"Are you from the Academy?"

As Maxim was gathering his resolve, Clint suddenly asked. Maxim frowned at the unexpected question.

"Why do you ask that out of the blue?"

"No matter what, don't think of handling this situation the same way you were taught to deal with being surrounded."

"Suddenly trying to be friendly, huh?" Maxim replied curtly. He assessed the monsters closing in on them. It was a pack of hellhounds—about thirty of them. A considerable number.

No need to use the aura blade...

"But why aren't they eating each other? You said there was no food left," Maxim asked.

"Even in this area, it seems cannibalism among their own kind is rare," Clint replied.

The sun was high in the sky, its light shining brightly on the earth, but Maxim's sword didn’t gleam, covered as it was in dried hexapede blood. He glanced back over his shoulder. A red aura was rising from Clint’s sword. Maxim noticed Clint's gaze was also fixed on his own sword.

"Let’s get started," Maxim said, and before Clint could ask anything else, he charged into the pack of hellhounds.

The hellhounds neither barked like dogs nor howled like wolves. Their cries were sharp and monstrous, fitting for such creatures, as they rushed toward Maxim.

Kyahk!

One down.

Maxim pierced through a hellhound’s jaw from below. The momentum of its charge sent the beast flying off the cliff, killing it instantly. Without looking back, Maxim set his sights on the next monster.

From above, downward.

Maxim circulated mana just enough to enhance his body. Though the amount of mana coursing through his veins was meager, it significantly strengthened him. Maxim felt his veins throb with pain, like needles piercing his flesh.

The wounds on his body began to ache slightly. It was almost laughable that using this small amount of mana could cause such pain.

Another hellhound lunged at him, its jaws wide open. Maxim shoved his blade into its drooling maw. With a swift upward slash, he split the creature’s head in two, spilling brains and blood everywhere.

Next.

Dozens more remained. Maxim picked up the pace. The number of hellhounds attacking him increased from one to two, then from two to three. Killing them one by one with a single strike wasn’t enough. His sword cut through the heads of two hellhounds at once.

"...They’ve changed their tactics."

They were persistent. He had already taken down about seven of them, but instead of retreating, the remaining twenty or so hellhounds surrounded Maxim in a fan shape, gradually closing the distance.

"Cunning bastards," Maxim muttered, noticing the hellhounds baring their teeth. Their expressions almost seemed to mock him. Maxim glared at them. He knew better than to charge into their fan-shaped formation. If he did, they would quickly surround him in a circle and start tearing him apart.

Surely, by now, he should have received some help.

Maxim glanced back.

"..."

Clint had already dealt with the monsters climbing up and had driven them back with the other soldiers. Clint and Maxim’s eyes met, and Maxim saw that Clint was watching him with a look of curiosity and some distrust. It was clear Clint had no intention of helping.

What is he testing me for?

Maxim shot an annoyed look at Clint, who merely shrugged.

"I'm not trying to kill or harm you."

"Then why aren’t you helping?" Maxim demanded.

Clint raised an eyebrow.

"I had my doubts, but after seeing you handle the hexapedes, I was convinced of your skill. I’m sure you can handle this. Why, can’t you? I heard you needed some discipline, so I figured you could use a little hardship."

Maxim gritted his teeth at Clint’s words.

So that's what this is.

Maxim lowered his sword.

This is the punishment you’re giving me.

Theodora’s face flashed in his mind—the cold, piercing look she gave him and the warm smile she used to show him. Memories of tears, laughter, surprise, joy, and contempt—all the emotions that Theodora’s eyes had conveyed—rushed through his mind. At the end of it all was Theodora, who called him Maxim, not Max.

I’ll accept it. I’ll take it all as my punishment.

Even in this situation, Theodora trusted in his skill, confident he wouldn’t get hurt. The weight of Theodora’s feelings toward him was heavy, and the unshakable trust even heavier. No doubt, Theodora thought this was merely a test, a bit of suffering for him. But the consequence of this was a far heavier punishment for Maxim.

Why did things go so wrong between us?

At first, Maxim wanted to do his best for Theodora. Their words to each other were cold, but at least he didn’t want to be hated more than necessary. But his hopes crumbled during the selection trials. His sword could never carry his true intentions. And a sword without sincerity could never reach Theodora.

A conflict raged loudly within Maxim’s heart.

One part of him wanted to sever all ties with her and make her hate him.

Another part couldn’t let go of the slender thread of hope, willing to risk everything to hold on to it.

It was fortunate.

If Theodora had been even slightly kinder, even slightly less cold, the latter would have won.

Maxim sighed.

The hellhounds' cries echoed across the wilderness.

The wide encirclement was gradually closing in on him. The hellhounds had him within their range. Maxim looked up. The sky was visible—a blue, sorrowful sky. Behind him, Clint’s voice called out.

"Take care of them yourself. I won’t be helping."

Maxim turned his head back.

"I don’t need it."

The hellhounds licked their lips, their eyes gleaming with anticipation.

I won’t ask for your forgiveness, Theodora.

Maxim raised his sword high.

So that you can continue to hate me.

The embers of regret met another, fiercer fire.

And despite everything, I will forgive you. I won’t deny the feelings I had for you. Even if, one day, your hatred drives me to death, I’ll never resent you.

Maxim continued to circulate mana as he stepped forward. The hellhounds, excited by the anticipation of a feast, snorted furiously.

"Come on."

The hellhounds charged. Maxim threw himself into the torrent of monsters. His sword carved graceful arcs through the air. The space around him split like a line drawn on a canvas. Necks were severed, legs were cut off, torsos were split open, spilling intestines.

Kyahk!

It was deep. Maxim took another step forward and thought. Hellhounds lunged at him from the side and behind, their fangs and claws aimed at him.

Maxim dodged the snapping jaws first. Just barely, the hellhound’s mouth grazed his side as it snapped shut. But he couldn’t avoid the claws. The intense pain from the mana coursing through his body was hindering his swift movements.

Shrrk.

His armor was scratched. Maxim kicked the hellhound’s head away. Another one came at his right shoulder, its huge maw opening wide.

Chomp.

Before the hellhound could bite down, Maxim quickly threw himself sideways, slamming his shoulder into the creature’s jaw. The staggering hellhound was split in two the next moment, spraying blood like a fountain.

There were still more.

His armor was scraped again. A small cut appeared on his cheek. Maxim paid it no mind and continued to swing his sword.

Crunch.

Finally, his armor, which had endured so much, gave way, and he felt a sharp pain near his shoulder blade. Maxim immediately stabbed the hellhound through the neck, but its jaw muscles refused to release their grip on him. Even in that state, Maxim took down two more hellhounds.

Only five left now.

Maxim forcibly tore the dead hellhound’s jaw apart, pulling its fangs out of his back. Blood poured out.

One, two, three, four, five.

Maxim’s sword swung precisely five times, and the only thing left in the wilderness was the carcasses of the monsters. Blood continued to drip down his back.

Clint was walking toward Maxim, a look of surprise evident on his face.

"...You..."

Maxim glared at Clint. He was not in a good mood.

"Why didn’t you use your aura blade?" Clint asked, clearly baffled.

Maxim narrowed his eyes.

"None of your business."

"Are you trying to make a statement against us? Are you really trying to deny that you’re a knight?"

It wasn’t unreasonable for Clint to react this way. After all, there had never been a case where a knight who could use an aura blade suddenly couldn’t. Especially with someone of Maxim’s skill, the idea that he couldn’t use it was even more absurd.

"If you have a problem with our methods, you should prove it with your sword."

Maxim scoffed.

"I told you it’s none of your business. Whether I deny being a knight or not, the monsters lying dead ahead of us say everything, don’t they?"

Clint frowned.

Make sure you report this accurately to Theodora, knight of the Wilderness. You can exaggerate or embellish it if you like. Maxim finally steadied himself. Now there was only one thing he desired.

That Count Benning’s will would no longer sway Theodora.

It’s enough for me to be the only one caught up in it. I hope she continues to hate me and never uncovers the truth hidden beyond.

The investigation was completed, and all the personnel reconvened and returned to the camp after sunset. Theodora and the marquis of the frontier were in the tent, poring over a map of the Wilderness with troubled expressions. Paola and Clint were also present.

"...So it seems everyone witnessed something similar," the marquis said, tapping the map with her command baton and letting out a sigh. The clues and peculiarities reported by the investigation teams all contained common elements.

Monsters climbing the cliff as if fleeing, creatures appearing frightened, and the unusually low number of monsters visible below the cliff.

"...And monsters that were strangely starved," the marquis added, tapping her shoulder with the baton.

Reluctantly, the marquis had to consider a possibility she had pushed to the back of her mind.

"I would love to think that the number of monsters has simply decreased because this land has reached its capacity, but..."

The marquis sighed deeply.

"If those creatures were really fleeing from something... If there’s something approaching that could reignite the fear that was suppressed in them due to their desperation to survive..."

"That would be the worst-case scenario," Paola concluded grimly.

"It reminds me of 15 years ago," Clint remarked. At his words, Paola and the marquis both recalled a certain entity.

"Behemoth..."

"It would make sense if the Behemoth has indeed reappeared," the marquis said, clenching her jaw. The Behemoth, which had barely shown itself 15 years ago, still haunted her nightmares.

"We’ll need quite a large force," the marquis muttered.

"When you report this to the royal palace, be sure to emphasize the severity. In a place like that, where they always assume the worst-case scenario, it wouldn’t hurt to exaggerate a little."

"...Are you suggesting we mention that the Behemoth might appear?" Theodora asked cautiously. The marquis nodded.

"His Majesty the King should remember well what kind of creature it is."

"Is the Behemoth really that..." Theodora began, but Paola continued the explanation.

"The Behemoth is dangerous in and of itself, but there’s something even more troublesome and dangerous about it."

Paola’s expression hardened as she spoke.

"The Behemoth subjugates other monsters. To be more precise, the monsters voluntarily submit to it."

Theodora’s eyes widened in realization.

"So that means..."

"Yes. The sudden decrease in monster numbers, the appearance of frightened creatures... all of it can be explained by the presence of the Behemoth. Though when it first appeared 15 years ago, there were no such signs."

"That might be because it was the first time the creature showed itself. Now, no one knows what’s happening beyond the Cliff of the End."

Paola and Clint's faces were extremely serious. Sensing the overly somber mood in the tent, the marquis clapped her hands to lighten the atmosphere.

"Well, it’s not like the Behemoth is going to show up tomorrow, and we haven’t even properly identified what these strange occurrences are. There’s no point in losing sleep over it now."

The marquis waved her hand dismissively, signaling the end of the discussion.

"You’ve all done well today. I ask that you continue to give your best during the investigation period. But for now, get some rest."

"Ah, Marquis, there’s something I’d like to discuss," Clint said as he stood and whispered something to the marquis. Theodora watched the exchange with a puzzled expression, and the marquis met her gaze. The look on the marquis’s face wasn’t a pleasant one.

"Alright, Clint. You may leave."

"Yes, ma’am."

Clint exited the tent, following Paola.

"Theodora, would you stay for a moment?" the marquis asked. Theodora nodded, already guessing what the conversation would be about.

"That knight you mentioned—he’s supposedly hopeless," the marquis began.

"What do you mean?" Theodora asked, furrowing her brow.

"His skills are fine, but it seems he’s lost his identity as a knight. Clint said he appears to have neither desire nor a sense of duty."

Theodora listened calmly.

"He refused to use his aura blade until the very end. He may have discarded his pride as a knight, but he still seems to have some other kind of pride left," the marquis said with a shrug.

"Is that so," Theodora replied.

"It seems Clint was rather upset about it," the marquis said, letting out a dry laugh.

"He’ll be in for a rough time during this investigation. We’ll have to give him a proper education."

Theodora could only respond with a bitter smile to the marquis’s words.

Night had fallen outside the tent. Theodora, feeling restless, wandered outside the camp. The troops had retired to their tents beyond the walls. Needing to clear her mind, Theodora strolled aimlessly, her eyes scanning her surroundings.

There wasn’t much to see in the wilderness—just an empty, barren landscape. It was a walk for the sake of walking, a stroll across the desolate plains. Suddenly, Theodora spotted a familiar figure. The figure seemed to recognize her as well and hesitated in place.

Theodora raised her lantern to get a better look.

And there, she saw Maxim, walking with a slightly awkward gait.