"An old story?"

The old king nodded.

"Quite an old story. Isn't it interesting?"

"Not really."

He laughed.

"Even if it's not interesting, please bear with me. I really wanted to tell you this story."

While I was staring at him with a sullen face, the old king took a sip of his tea and threw out the first words.

"Did you meet Ophosis?"

"...!"

"It seems you did."

Ophosis was a figure who had died decades ago. Of course, it was impossible to meet him in a common-sense way. That meant... he knew that I had met Ophosis in the trial room inside Ophosis's tomb.

"How did you know?"

"You brought out Vlad, didn't you? So you must have taken the trial."

The old king shrugged as if it were no big deal.

"A simple deduction."

"How did you know about the trial?"

That was something that even Ophosis's disciple, Hans, didn't know.

"I heard it directly."

"You heard it directly?"

"Ophosis was my dear friend. He told me about the trial room."

"Ah."

Only then did I remember something I had vaguely heard before. At that time, the king and Ophosis were said to be close friends. It seems Ophosis had explained his plan to the king once. Thinking about it that way, it wasn't that strange of a story.

The king stroked his chin and was lost in thought.

"I don't remember the principle exactly... what did he say? Was it a simple application of an ego sword? It wasn't something that could be understood with common sense, but well. In the first place, he wasn't a person who could be defined by common sense."

I looked at him for a moment, then asked.

"Then... do you also know about the last sword?"

"The last sword? Are you talking about Vlad?"

I examined his expression closely. But he really seemed not to know.

"Hmm. It's nothing."

It seems he hadn't told him about the rainbow sword that bloomed in nine colors. Did he really take that to his grave?

'He was close friends with Ophosis when he was alive...'

Thinking about it that way, a question arose. About the tragedy that Ophosis and his disciples had experienced. As the king of his own country, he would have had the power to protect them. But except for Hans, who had left the forge beforehand, no one had survived. That meant the old king in front of me had turned a blind eye to them.

He let his dear friend's disciples die? Why on earth?

For a moment, I remembered Ophosis's worried gaze as he asked about the whereabouts of his disciples. And even the bitter smile he had given after hearing the answer.

The old king, as if he had noticed what I wanted to say from my gaze even before I spoke, gave a bitter smile and opened his mouth.

"Yes, I should start with that story. It's all connected anyway."

The bitter smile hanging on his lips... resembled Ophosis's.

***

"What are they talking about?"

Walpole whispered to Ashley.

The answer came from behind.

"Don't mind them."

It was a voice as cold as ice.

Walpole was startled and turned around. There was Frost, holding a teapot and tea set, as if he had brewed the tea himself.

'In an instant...!'

He had come right up behind him, but he hadn't even noticed his presence. His blood ran cold.

Walpole reflexively examined his expression. It was a face as cold as ice, fitting for his cold voice.

Walpole said, as if making an excuse.

"Ah, Sir Serkov. I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I was just curious..."

"...."

Frost stared at the excuse-making Walpole silently. His gaze was quite cold.

Walpole lowered his eyes and finished his sentence as if crawling.

"Yes. I was just asking out of curiosity... I had no other intention..."

Indeed, he was the strongest knight of Blake, the Knight of Frost, whom he had only heard of. It was hard to even make eye contact with him unless you had considerable courage. It was even more so because he was always expressionless, so you couldn't tell what he was thinking. He was a very difficult man to deal with.

In other words, he was like a being beyond human. It wasn't for nothing that he was called a demigod who had transcended humanity. The Knight of Frost had that much of a presence. His presence was too great for an ordinary human to face. Just facing him made cold sweat trickle down. A dry gulp went down his throat.

How on earth does Lord Ashuban talk to such a person so casually?

Ashley, who had been giving her clumsy subordinate a glare, sighed softly and said to Frost.

"I apologize on his behalf. He's quite immature."

"...."

Thump.

Frost silently placed the teacups on the table, then poured the tea. Just pouring tea, but an unknown tension flowed.

Frost, who had poured tea into everyone's cups with neat movements as if measured with a ruler, said in an indifferent tone.

"Drink. The aroma is good."

"Ah, yes."

Frost poured his own share of tea into an empty seat and then sat down there. Then he watched the people sitting around the table drink their tea, and then asked Linda, who had put her teacup back down with a frown.

"Does it taste bad?"

"Yuck. It's disgusting."

"...."

The flustered Ashley defended her.

"Linda says everything is disgusting unless it has poison in it."

At Ashley's defense, Frost stared at Linda.

"Is that true?"

"Yeah. The color was pretty, so I thought it would be tasty, but it's not tasty at all. It's yuck, yuck."

Frost nodded.

"There is no poison separately. If you want, you can add it yourself and drink."

"Yeah. Okay."

Linda took something out of her pocket and added this and that to her teacup, then finally started sipping her tea.

"Is it a little better?"

"Yeah! It's delicious now. Want to try?"

"I'm fine."

Frost looked at Roetgel, who was savoring the tea with a very neat posture. Roetgel, noticing his gaze, met Frost's eyes and nodded.

"The taste is good."

"Is that so."

Clatter.

Roetgel put down his teacup, then straightened his clothes, sat up straight, and looked at Frost.

"Sir Serkov."

Frost stared at Roetgel's expression blankly. From his extremely serious face, words filled with sincerity flowed out.

"I have come to learn from you."

"...."

Frost, facing Roetgel's sincerity, lifted his teacup to his lips. Until then, Roetgel did not move and looked straight at the Knight of Frost.

...Clatter.

Frost slowly put down his teacup and then opened his mouth.

"When they are finished talking."

"Talking?"

At that, Frost turned his gaze to one side. There were two people having a conversation in the distance.

"Ah."

Roetgel, following Frost's gaze, nodded as if he understood.

Frost lifted the teapot and said to him.

"Would you like another cup?"

Roetgel shook his head.

"I'm fine."

"...."

Only Frost, who had lifted the teapot, was left feeling awkward.

Ashley quickly emptied her cup and held it out.

"Please give me a cup."

...Pour.

As she watched the blue tea fill her cup, Ashley said.

"The tea tastes very good. Did you brew it yourself?"

Frost nodded.

"I did."

Then he stared at Ashley as she drank her tea. ...It was very burdensome.

Under his gaze, Ashley gulped down the steaming hot tea. As soon as her cup was empty, Frost poured her another cup.

Pour.

"Drink a lot."

"Th-thank you... I am."

Ashley, who couldn't refuse his kindness, ended up over-consuming tea as Frost kept pouring her another cup as soon as her cup was empty. Ashley wanted to go to the bathroom. She felt like she would pee blue.

***

The old king began his story.

"I would often sneak out of the palace and visit Ophosis. When my mind and body were exhausted from listening to the nagging of the ministers. Listening to the cool sound of his hammer, my heart couldn't be more at ease. I would often doze off."

He was a king with a rather peculiar hobby.

"And so, on a day no different from any other, as I was dozing off to the sound of his hammering, I suddenly got goosebumps all over and woke up with a start. It's hard to describe, but I felt the air had changed. The clanging sound of the hammer had stopped at some point."

"...."

"And so, the moment I carefully got up and saw Ophosis, I realized everything."

"What?"

"That his visit to me today was a planned event that had been decided long ago in the past. And that the entire universe was paying attention to today's meeting. I had a strange feeling that was hard to describe in words."

'Is he suddenly talking nonsense?'

I stared at the king who was talking nonsense. Had he gone senile? He was of an age where that was possible. Still, I decided to listen to the old man's nonsense to the end.

"He was Ophosis, but he was not Ophosis. A divine radiance was flowing from his eyes, and around him, a tremendous flame, blazing like hellfire, surrounded him. I felt like I would suffocate from the immense presence he was emitting."

"...."

"Ophosis had often said that there were moments when his memory would disappear when he was making a sword. I realized that this was that moment. Yes, I had witnessed the moment when a god had descended to earth through the body of his most beloved devotee."

The only thought that came to my mind was, 'Has this old man gone mad?' A god's descent? What nonsense is this?

"I am sure. It was Volund, the god of blacksmiths, iron and fire, anvils and forges. He looked straight at me and said, 'Listen, king of humans.' I trembled and had no choice but to kneel and receive the divine revelation."

"A revelation?"

The old king wet his lips with tea and then said in a reverent tone.

"‘The red-eyed adjudicator will come.’"

What?

"‘The red-eyed adjudicator will descend from a high place. In one hand, he will hold a broken longsword that will burn everything, and in the other, a dagger that will be used as a key.’"

I stared at the old king with sunken eyes.

"I stammered and barely managed to ask. When, when will he come? At that, he said, 'After my most cherished devotee has departed, a disaster will befall his disciples. But you must not dare to prevent that disaster.’"

"...."

"As soon as I heard that, I knew what it meant. So I was very afraid, but I gathered my courage. I risked being rude and dared to ask the reason. The answer that came back was concise. 'It shall be a trial for the adjudicator.’"

The old king spread his arms and looked up at the sky, continuing.

"‘The moment the adjudicator overcomes all trials, the master of a new throne will come.’"

An unreadable light sparkled in his eyes as he looked up at the sky.

"‘The one who stood alone. The one who awakened alone...’"

The old king, who had been muttering like a madman, lowered his raised arms and grabbed his teacup. The king, who had gulped down the cold tea, finished his story by putting down the teacup.

"And with that, I lost consciousness."

"...."

I looked at the king and then blurted out a single phrase.

"You crazy old man."

(End of Chapter)