Chapter 125

“—I’ll pursue him.”

Yord sought permission without taking his eyes off the distant shadow, and Ihan asked him plainly.

“Can you catch him?”

“At this distance? Absolutely.”

“Confident, huh. Hmm... Forget it. Just let him go.”

“But, sir…!”

Yord didn’t fully know the details, but he could easily guess that the giant man was the one responsible for Ihan’s severe injuries and the mission’s complications.

Letting such a person go didn’t sit right with him, and his displeasure showed.

“Drop it. He’s not someone you can handle.”

“Senior?”

Jake placed a hand on Yord’s shoulder to stop him. Not because he underestimated him, but—

“No matter how tired you are, going after the 'Black Lion of the North' would be impossible.”

“!!?”

Yord’s eyes widened in shock.

The Black Lion of the North.

The legendary Giant Slayer and the strongest champion of the North.

“The vice-commander of the Black Iron Lions….”

“It’s almost certainly him. His build has grown larger since the last time I saw him, which is why I didn’t recognize him right away. But it’s definitely him. Has his growth spurt still not stopped, as the rumors say?”

“...Are we sure he’s fully human?”

“Well, technically, he’s supposed to be pure human.”

“Doesn’t seem like it…”

Encountering the infamous vice-commander of the Black Iron Lions in such a remote place was so unexpected that Yord forgot his grievances, staring blankly after the giant’s retreating figure.

As the younger knight stood there in stunned silence, Jake turned to his exhausted friend, collapsed on the ground.

“…You okay?”

“Do I look okay?”

“No.”

“Then why ask?”

“To mess with you.”

“…You bastard.”

It might have been the first time Jake had seen Ihan so utterly worn out and sprawled on the ground.

And as Jake suspected, the reason for Ihan’s current state was likely—

“It wasn’t some cultists who managed to land a blow on you, nor would any monster have done this. You’re the type to wipe them all out without breaking a sweat.”

“…You know me too well.”

“Yeah, unfortunately. I also know this: there are probably fewer than fifty people on the entire continent capable of doing this to you. If one of those fifty is the Black Lion of Lionel, then yeah, I could see it.”

“…We fought. It just sort of happened.”

“…I figured.”

Jake sighed.

Self-inflicted trouble, as usual.

Ihan admitted the truth without hesitation. He had no intention of hiding it anyway.

But—

“What exactly do you think your mission is? You delinquent knight.”

“…Yeah, my bad.”

At his friend’s sincere reproach, Ihan muttered an embarrassed apology.

Even he couldn’t deny that his actions had been reckless.

Apparently, Ihan’s ‘conscience’ wasn’t entirely dead yet.

Jake didn’t bother asking Ihan why the fight had started.

There was no point.

‘It must’ve been over something trivial.’

Both Ihan and the great warrior of the North had eccentric personalities. It was obvious that they’d found some minor pretext to justify a duel.

While Jake didn’t show much reaction, he couldn’t help but wonder—

‘Who won?’

It wasn’t that he wasn’t curious.

The strongest warriors in the kingdom—excluding Aura Users—had clashed. Any knight would be curious about the outcome.

Still, Jake held back his questions.

Because—

‘If I ask now, he’ll hit me.’

Judging by Ihan’s sour expression, it wasn’t the right time to ask. Jake decided to suppress his curiosity for the moment.

‘There’ll be a time to find out.’

He could only hope that day would come.

Whoosh! Whiiish!

The woman sprinted at full speed, her sweat dripping steadily as she crossed several meters in mere seconds. Her movements were as fluid and graceful as a snow leopard bounding across the frozen tundra.

Despite carrying the massive Maximus Lionel—a man so large he weighed as much as a bull—she moved effortlessly.

If she couldn’t handle this much weight, how could she claim to be a member of the Black Iron Lions, the strongest warrior group in the North?

In the North, gender was no excuse. Only skill mattered.

“Thankfully, it seems no one is pursuing us.”

The tall woman, her skin pale as freshly fallen snow, glanced back cautiously. Relieved that no one seemed to be following, she allowed herself a moment of ease.

If the knights of the White Lion had pursued her, it would’ve been troublesome.

‘Even excluding the one collapsed on the ground, the other two were no joke.’

Even by Northern standards, they weren’t to be taken lightly. She couldn’t help but be impressed.

‘I’d heard the White Cats were all fools, but it seems there are some competent ones among them.’

Perhaps this was the true strength of the kingdom.

However, her thoughts soon drifted away from the knights.

With a sidelong glance…

Perhaps because she finally had some breathing room, she looked at the limp form of the vice-commander she was carrying.

Maximus Lionel.

The youngest brother of Grand Duke Lionel, yet more often referred to as the ‘Great Warrior of the North’ than by his familial title.

A man who had forced every Northern warrior to their knees through his natural talent, relentless effort, and insatiable desire for improvement.

Even she, driven by her competitive spirit, had once challenged him. That day, she had come to understand what it meant to face a giant in human form.

Maximus was that powerful. For Lirina Hartmun, imagining him losing to anyone other than the Grand Duke was nearly impossible.

She knew firsthand how boundless his stamina was and how his strength felt like it could overturn mountains.

But now—

‘I’ve never seen him so exhausted.’

Not even when he fought a Frost Giant alone in the past did he come away with a single scratch.

It was only natural for Lirina’s gaze to fill with curiosity…

“—Lirina, what is it you’re curious about?”

“….”

“If there’s something you wish to know, ask, and I’ll answer.”

“…How did you end up in such a state? The so-called Champion of the North.”

When given the chance, Lirina asked directly, true to her warrior nature—blunt and forthright.

Maximus, who was being carried like a sack of cargo on her shoulder, smiled contentedly at her straightforward question.

“It was a magnificent duel. Truly a battle that ignited my heart and soul.”

“….”

Lirina’s eyes widened.

She had never seen their vice-commander look so satisfied before.

He continued.

“Lirina, the continent is vast. Ha-ha!”

“…That’s an unusually humble response for you.”

“Is it? Perhaps you’re right.”

Maximus didn’t deny her words. After all, she wasn’t wrong—he was far more arrogant than humble by nature.

But this time was different.

“If one remains unchanged even after experiencing ‘defeat,’ can they truly call themselves human?”

“!!!”

“What’s the matter? Is it so hard to believe that I lost?”

“…Did you… really lose?”

The word “defeat” was perhaps the most ill-suited term to describe Maximus, their vice-commander.

Defeat. The idea that he could lose to anyone in a fight was simply unfathomable. He always emerged as the victor in every duel.

But Maximus said—

“Lirina, have you forgotten? I’ve never spoken a lie in my life.”

“….”

“And I’m not lying now. Besides, I don’t find my defeat shameful or unfamiliar. In the North, I’ve always been a loser.”

He had always lost to his elder brother, the Grand Duke, the embodiment of the North’s mysteries. He had always been defeated by the blizzards that swept through the North.

Even the Eternal Snowfield, a natural wonder imbued with legends of ice spirits, had always left him in awe, making him feel the weight of defeat.

To Maximus, defeat was nothing new.

“Losing to the Black King and to nature—how is that even a defeat? Can a human possibly win against such forces?”

Lirina Hartmun was incredulous.

The entities Maximus mentioned—

The Black King of Lionel, a fragment of the Lion King and the land god of the North.

The Eternal Snowfield, a glacial phenomenon over a millennium old, rumored to hold the remains of snow fairies.

These were not adversaries that any mere human could challenge.

Who could ever think to battle against nature itself—or calamity—and call themselves defeated?

“Goals should always be set high.”

“…You’re just insane.”

“Hmm, perhaps so.”

Maximus nodded readily, agreeing with her judgment. After all, everyone has their own standards.

And by his standards—

“From my perspective, I was indeed defeated this time.”

“…Even though you broke that knight’s sword?”

“Haha, you noticed, did you?”

“I only saw him angrily toss the hilt aside.”

It was a familiar sight in the North.

Maximus’s specialty was destroying weapons, leaving countless warriors mourning their shattered blades.

But this time—

“Lirina, look at my neck.”

“…What?”

“Quickly.”

“….”

Lirina tilted her head, wondering why he’d suddenly ask such a thing. But she obediently looked at his neck.

And then—

“Eek…!”

She couldn’t help but let out a gasp.

It wasn’t often that she was startled, but this time her shock turned to horror, and her legs froze in place. Her pupils trembled.

…A red line.

Maximus was suppressing a wound on his neck with sheer strength.

“This aura technique—I’m so glad I learned it.”

Otherwise, he would’ve been dead long ago, bleeding out in a fountain of crimson.

“Well—”

“When you live as a knight, your neck will get cut from time to time. It’s not a bad experience, haha!”

“D-don’t laugh! Don’t you dare laugh, you idiot! You’re bleeding! Why didn’t you say anything about being injured?!”

“Hahaha!!”

Maximus merely laughed it off as if it were nothing, but Lirina’s face turned pale. Without wasting any time, she moved to treat the lunatic standing before her.

“Damn you, you reckless fool!!”

Lirina Hartmun glared at her vice-commander—and at the same time, her [husband]—with exasperation.

After all, she had almost become a widow.