When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist
Chapter 81 - 80 I Think I Am a Knight

Chapter 81: Chapter 80 I Think I Am a Knight

The suspension bridge began to sway as groups of villagers clutched their carts, not daring to look at the rushing river below, and made their way to the opposite shore.

"Is there still time?" Jeanne stubbornly gripped Horn’s arm. "Just wait for three more small sandglasses, and they can cross the bridge."

"There’s no time." Watching the villagers singing their Celestial dreams, Qianqian warned, "We must cut the suspension bridge ahead of time, or those who’ve crossed will not survive."

"Alright, then we must abandon them..." After half a minute of silence, Horn responded softly.

Perhaps, he should have listened to Qianqian. He insisted on bringing everyone to escape, but ended up having to abandon these 300 old, weak, women, and children.

Perhaps it was a good thing?

With 300 fewer people, his retreat might be smoother, and he could reach Joan of Arc Castle sooner.

There, with his knowledge, ability, and learning, he would certainly become a prominent figure.

Why should he be sad?

Horn gripped the longsword in his hand: "Let’s go, we need to notify the suspension bridge side, prepare, we can..."

"Wait." Holding his sword, Danji propped himself up on the grass and stood up, "I might be able to buy them a few more minutes, perhaps those refugees can cross."

"If you want to say anything like a speech, just stop it." Jeanne’s face darkened, "This is not the time for jokes."

"No, that’s not what I mean."

Danji turned around, opened the cloth bag on the horse’s back, where five lances were stored.

Leading Black William to the edge of the hillside, Danji stroked its head like touching a lover’s arm.

Danji stood proud, the golden light of the sunset falling on his rough reins.

He looked into the distance, at the winding river valley, with the meandering refugees, their rough and yellowish skin exposed between the seams of their clothes.

He could hear the cheerful songs of the villagers, so moving, so pleasant, mixed with the heartbreaking sound of hooves from afar.

The Water Mill Knight’s coarse fingers ran through the black horse’s mane: "Actually, someone once asked me a question, he asked, without an estate, a prized horse, or glorious honor, what kind of a knight am I?"

"I said, I believe I am."

The Water Mill Knight stood proud, a smile on his face, yet uglier than crying.

"A knight, a knight shouldn’t be a knight for some messy titles and estates, shouldn’t for money and noblewomen, be a knight!

They should hold their heads high, with rightful pride, you know? Like standing rightfully and proudly in front of the weak, saying, I will protect you.

Not for money, not for land, but out of reason and justice!"

The Water Mill Knight laughed as if he was right there, standing in front of those being wronged.

He laughed with longing, his eyes shining brighter than if he had returned victorious from a knightly tournament.

Sniffing, Danji did not let the tears fall.

He turned his head to look at Horn and Jeanne, and Horn couldn’t tell what kind of smile that was.

"I can even imagine that day when, due to my foolish persistence, I collapsed by the water puddle by the roadside.

No one weeping by the bedside, no one offering flowers, but I could tell myself, look, the Knight of Chivalry is here."

The Water Mill Knight laughed so loudly, laughed as if he were crying.

"A knight, a knight should not be a guardian of the kingdom and church, but rather, should be, should be a guardian of reason and justice!

How could they kneel before the powerful, yet slaughter the weak, plunder for money and randomly kill for laughter...

We are knights, yes, knights, not bandits!"

Horn had never seen such an expression on Danji’s face.

This knight who always did his best to maintain composure was now crying raggedly.

Like a wronged child.

Tears traced down the grooves of his cheeks, and the Water Mill Knight wiped them with dusty hands, yet the more he wiped, the more muddy his face became.

Horn didn’t know what to say, he vaguely knew he should stop Danji’s farewell.

But those words tangled at his lips.

He couldn’t speak them.

"Pardon me for making you laugh." Grabbing Black William’s mane, he wiped away his snot and tears, Danji revealed a bright smile.

He pulled the scabbard of the Knight’s Longsword from his waist and tossed it to Horn.

The scabbard traced a precise arc in the air, landing in Horn’s hand.

It was a plain scabbard wrapped in leather, wood, and iron, clean yet aged.

"This scabbard is for you; I see you always carrying that unsheathed half-sword at your waist."

"Where will your sword go then?"

"I won’t need it." Danji mounted his horse, turned his head, the valley wind billowing his sleeves, "Your Eminence, you will surely establish a country without knights.

Our Pope Country, our country, will no longer need knights to protect the weak, to uphold fairness, to guard obsolete justice."

Horn opened his mouth, but could not utter a single word.

"What are you talking about?" Jeanne, at a loss, stepped forward two steps.

After a deep gaze at Jeanne, Danji laughed: "I gave you ’Knight Sifal,’ be sure to read it well, it’s my foster father’s work; he was a true Knight of Chivalry."

Moving past Jeanne, Danji looked at the faint black mist on the horizon.

"The giants are coming, I’ll go kill them, you needn’t wait for me, go on ahead."

Riding on his horse, Danji, in classical knight fashion, smiled and tilted his head toward Horn.

As Black William neighed, he shook the reins and charged down the slope.

"Danji, what are you doing?" Rushing to the edge of the slope, Jeanne shouted at the back of the Water Mill Knight, "Are you mad? Come back!"

But Danji did not turn back.

He leaned forward, raising the lance, the black mane of the black warhorse obscuring his eyes.

The evening wind filled with the smell of smoke, whistling past his ears.

Below the rolling hills, he saw a black line, a wall of riders numbering in the thousands.

The warhorses neighed, the earth trembled, the black tide split the world in two, above the golden red sky, below the brown-black earth.

The black tide drew nearer, clearer.

Danji could clearly see the lances in their hands, the longswords at their hips, their cold expressions, the dust rising beneath their hooves.

The clatter of hooves sounded like the steps of giants.

In the boundless black tide, he spotted the knight riding a Dragon Blood Horse at once.

The tall knight held an extra-long iron lance upright, seated on the saddle, face hidden beneath the visor, taller by half a body than those around him.

Danji burst into laughter.

No matter how he looked, that wall of men resembled the wall of a mill, that tall knight, so much like the water mill he charged into.

Yes, just like the water mill he charged into.

Danji lowered his head, Black William snorted a crisp sound.

He had never accomplished anything worthwhile in his life.

Attending tournaments, suffering ten consecutive defeats in knight contests.

Going as a chivalrous knight, stripped of all clothing, going naked to seek aid.

Everywhere he went, he was a joke.

All these years, Danji wanted retirement, but before that, he could still do one last thing.

The only thing to prove he was ever a knight.

The only thing to prove the existence of knights.

Raising his head, Danji’s eyes were bloodshot, unexplainable rage burning through every inch of his flesh, nearly cracking the corners of his eyes.

Falling into a cesspit hadn’t made him this angry, being stripped of clothing hadn’t made him this angry, mocked by everyone hadn’t made him this angry.

For the first time in his life, he was so enraged he didn’t care about anything else.

As the Imperial Knights charged forward, he opened his mouth wide and roared in an unprecedented fury:

"Grand Master, Danji Alfonso Heide, of the Holy Grail Knight Order of the Papal States, is here!"

Once the knight charging at the water mill, he proudly held his head high, raising his lance, it was held across the human wall of knights.

Within the rolling dust, two thousand seven hundred fully armed Extraordinary Knights were hidden.

The knight who once charged at the water mill, his ally were only the hills rising on both sides.

Pointing his lance at the bandits, the Water Mill Knight, justified and proud, let out an ear-splitting roar:

"You damned bandits, if you want the lives of those poor souls, then come on!"

"Come! Come break my backbone! Pierce through my heart! Cut off my head!"

"But before that—"

"You shall not step a foot across here!"