The Amber Knight Swears His Love on the Saintess’s Left Hand - Chapter 18

The red eyes locked onto Quill.

“GU-GIAAAAAAA!”

It unleashed a grating shriek toward the sky.

Black Wolves called their kin; they were pack hunters by nature. A pack was always nearby, gathering at the signal of a scout’s cry.

The moment Quill closed the distance to striking range, black shadows leaped down from the roofs on both sides. He shifted his weight from toe to heel in a smooth slide, jumping backward.

Two new arrivals slammed into the very spot Quill had occupied a second before.

There are more hiding. He couldn’t afford to dive in recklessly. He leveled his sword against the three beasts, waiting for their move.

Then, he heard a faint scuffing sound from a nearby alley.

A boy had been left behind. Judging by his clothes, he was from a good family—no older than Adele.

The boy, who had been trembling behind a wooden crate, stood up the moment he saw Quill.

“Don’t! Don’t move!”

A massive Black Wolf was already plummeting from above toward the boy’s head.

As Quill lunged, the three wolves he had been baiting moved in unison, baring their fangs at the prey who had turned his back to them.

“Ice Array”

He cast the spell behind him. With Quill at the center, an arc of light traced the ground, and pillars of ice surged upward. Two wolves were blocked; the third managed to leap over the crystalline barricade.

Quill scooped the boy up with his left arm and swung his sword upward.

The tip of the blade grazed the hide of the large wolf targeting the boy, scattering a few drops of dark-red fluid. The liquid scorched the wooden crate where it fell, making the boy scream.

“You’re safe.”

Cradling the boy, Quill ran deep into the alley and broke out onto a wide thoroughfare. The Black Wolves, now totaling four, were hot on his heels.

After putting some distance between them, he set the boy down and gave him a shove.

“Run to where the people are. Don’t look back.”

The boy nodded through tears and ran. Quill watched his retreating back out of the corner of his eye before fixing his gaze on the approaching beasts.

The numbers don’t add up. A pack of Black Wolves should be at least five—ten at the most.

The lead alpha twitched its snout upward. The three following it moved to the front.

But Quill’s ears caught the sound of the wind shifting behind him.

He threw himself into a hard leap to the right. A flash of heat seared his left arm. Two wolves had been closing in from behind, and one had managed to rake him with its claws.

Fighting a pack in the dense urban layout of the capital was poor luck.

Four in front, two behind. Six in total. He prayed that was the end of them.

He channeled mana into his sword.

The blade took on a frigid chill, extending the reach of the steel. Along the surface of the ice-clad blade, the red blood dripping from his left arm drew a stark line.

The six Black Wolves circled him. The largest individual directly in front was likely the pack leader.

The alpha stared Quill down, a low growl vibrating in its throat.

The moment its maw opened to reveal its fangs, Quill moved first.

“Ice Blade”

The incantation was short; the sword erupted in light.

A fraction of a second after the physical swing, a blade of ice followed the trajectory. It bisected the alpha’s head clean through its open mouth and continued on to gash the belly of the wolf beside it.

The wolves behind him howled. Having lost their leader, the pack lost its coordination, each beast lunging wildly to feast.

“Ice Spear”

He swung his left arm out. Quill’s blood splattered onto the pavement, and from those spots, long, jagged spikes of ice thrust upward.

The spears impaled the torsos of the wolves, sending up plumes of steam and black mist as they met the monsters’ caustic fluids.

Three left.

He cut down one that leaped at him, using the momentum to spin his body. A wolf clamped its jaws onto the blade as he swung it behind him.

Leaving the beast’s teeth buried in the ice, Quill leveled his left hand.

“Shatter”

The ice coating the blade detonated. Blasted from the inside out, the wolf lost its grip on the sword and collapsed to the ground, motionless.

He took aim at the final one, pointing his sword.

The wolf’s red eyes locked onto Quill’s dark-red gaze.

Growling, crimson fluid dripping from its fangs, the Black Wolf suddenly flattened its ears back.

…What?

It looked terrified.

Of what? Of Quill?

No.

“Quill! Behind you!”

He spun around, heart hammering.

“Ice Wall!”

The defensive barrier he raised was pulverized in an instant.

Standing beyond the collapsing shards of ice was a two-headed wolf—an Orthos.

“Impossible… inside the capital?”

Its frame was far larger than a Black Wolf’s.

The thick hide protecting its torso reflected magic. It had a long tail tipped with the head of a serpent.

If it stood on its hind legs, it would be twice Quill’s height.

This was a high-tier beast that rarely appeared even near the Aschefallen Mountains. Why was it here?

As Quill leaped back while firing ice shards, other knights sprinted to his side.

“We’re late. Sorry,” Sascha apologized, grimacing at the sight. “What the hell is this? Black Wolves and an Orthos?”

“I don’t know. I think that was the last of the pack, but this…”

The Orthos’s howl shook the capital.

The sound rattled Quill’s very skull, but he didn’t look away as he leveled his sword.

Sascha moved his First Squad members to surround the beast.

However, the Orthos’s serpent tail lashed out with a mind of its own, keeping the enemies from closing in.

Yet, even while intimidating the others, the Orthos’s eyes remained fixed on Quill.

It was just as he’d felt during recent hunts. The magical beasts were obsessed with him.

Does the Betzyraft eye bother you that much?

Quill pulled one corner of his mouth into a grimace and charged the Orthos.

“Quill! What are you doing?!”

Ignoring Sascha’s shout, he thrust out his left hand.

“Ice Shards, Scatter!”

He fired a volley of ice pellets, laced with his own blood, toward the Orthos’s right head.

Magic would work if it hit the head.

The tail slammed the ground, and the right head sagged. The left head moved forward to shield its wounded half.

Suddenly—

Quill thought the Orthos’s red eyes looked just like his own.

That was it. They were the same. These red eyes of Betzyraft…

They were identical to the eyes of a monster.

The Orthos’s four eyes turned toward him. Quill stared back.

A bead of sweat rolled down his back.

Seconds passed, or perhaps minutes.

Then, the Orthos—the beast that had been glaring at him suddenly lowered both its heads. As if showing submission to Quill.

“…Huh?”

In the moment Quill stood dazed.

A strike descended.

A single blade of wind decapitated the Orthos. The heads slid from the torso, hitting the ground with a thud. A moment later, the legs buckled, and the massive body collapsed. Dust billowed into the air as the tremors slowly faded into silence.

Looking up, Quill saw Geis standing on a nearby roof.

“Good work.”

Geis gave a broad grin, surveyed the surroundings, and hopped down to join Quill.

“What’s with that look, Quill? You look like a total dunderhead.”

“Commander, just now… I…”

“Nothing happened. Right, Sascha?”

Geis prompted. Sascha, who had looked dazed for a moment, shook his head vigorously.

“The hell you mean ‘nothing’! An Orthos in the capital? We’re having a meeting immediately!”

Geis laughed and nodded.

“True enough. This is the biggest disaster in recent years. If Lady Lynette hadn’t brought the word, someone would’ve definitely died.”

They’re covering for me. Realizing they were brushing over what just happened, the chaos inside Quill slowly began to settle.

Instead, he remembered the face of his fiancée, whom he’d sent as a messenger.

“Commander. Where is Lady Ceryes?”

“Ah, I have her waiting in the Commander’s office. Let’s head back for now.”

Geis and Sascha took turns slapping Quill on the back. It was more than he could bear.

“I think my back hurts quite a bit.”

“Hmm? WHOA! Quill, your back is a mess! That claw got you good!”

Ah, that explains it.

The moment he became aware of the injury, the pain caught up with him. He slumped against Sascha’s back with a groan.

“I’m tired…”

“Hey, hey. If you’re gonna act like a baby, do it with your fiancée. If I’m gonna be leaned on, I’d much rather it be a girl.”

Quill ignored the nonsense and allowed himself to be dragged toward the headquarters.

The members of the First Squad followed, offering lighthearted praise. It seemed they, too, had decided to lock away the “impossible” sight they had just witnessed.

I’m glad this is where I belong, he thought as he leaned on Sascha. Sascha cursed at him for being heavy.

Here, he could breathe. Here, he could just be Quill.

They reached the headquarters shortly after, and members of the Second Squad carried him to the Commander’s office.

Geis knocked on the door, but there was no response.

Frowning at the silence, Sascha pushed the door open.

A cup had toppled over on the table, the half-finished tea forming a puddle. The saucer had fallen to the floor, and broken shards were scattered everywhere.

“…Lady Ceryes?”

Quill stepped off Sascha’s back and called out, but there was no reply.

Lynette and Nicola had vanished from the Commander’s office.