Maxime caught the unconscious Adeline as she collapsed. As he brought his hand down towards her neck in a martial strike, there was no resistance. It seemed she had decided to trust his words. After retrieving her sword, Maxime lifted her into his arms. His shoulder and right arm trembled slightly, but he stubbornly ignored the sensation and turned his head to the side.

“You can stop watching and come out now. I’m not sure how long you’ve been there.”

A red-haired man emerged from the alley, raising both hands as if in surrender. He didn’t seem particularly remarkable, but Maxime recognized the lily emblem on his chest. This man was none other than Aaron, the deputy commander of the royal guard. Maxime realized that, for him to have failed to sense Aaron’s presence, this man truly possessed the skills befitting his rank.

“I’ve been here since the beginning, following His Majesty’s orders to discreetly support you.”

“…Would have been nice if you helped during the fight, then.”

Aaron shrugged his shoulders with a shameless expression.

“Well, judging by the conversation between you and the young lady you were fighting, it didn’t seem like a situation I should intervene in. I was ready to step in if things got really dangerous, but it didn’t come to that.”

Aaron wasn’t wrong, so Maxime stopped grumbling.

“In the end, I’m stuck cleaning up the aftermath. Damn, His Majesty can be quite indifferent.”

Aaron crossed his arms and cast a glance at Adeline, who was now in Maxime’s arms. His expression soured as he addressed the situation.

“So, His Majesty’s only command was for me to follow and support you. But from what I see, I have an additional task now, don’t I?”

Maxime nodded, while Aaron, though grumbling, didn’t seem to mind fulfilling the request of his junior.

“Can you take her somewhere safe in the palace?”

“Does this favor of yours involve this knight of Benning?”

Maxime nodded again, and Aaron let out a contemplative hum, though he didn’t seem intent on prying further into the details.

“Alright then. If it’s a favor that His Majesty decided to grant, I won’t ask any more questions. But if your favor poses any threat to the royal family or His Majesty’s safety…”

Aaron’s eyebrow raised slightly, as if to imply, ‘You know what would happen.’ Maxime passed Adeline into Aaron’s arms, who then scrutinized Maxime carefully. Maxime, sensing the curiosity, returned the gaze with a questioning look.

“So, you said you have something else to do. His Majesty informed me. I was originally supposed to assist with what you’re about to do. Rescuing a comrade, right?”

Maxime nodded heavily.

“Yes. There’s a path leading to the Mage’s dungeon through the sewers. I intend to rescue my comrade, who’s imprisoned deep within.”

“…I see.”

Aaron’s gaze fell on Maxime’s trembling right shoulder. His right arm, already overexerted and possibly with torn muscles or even damaged bones, trembled faintly.

“When you fought this knight, you forced yourself to stop the final blow, didn’t you?”

Maxime neither confirmed nor denied it. His arm, strained while forcibly halting the flow of the elvish sword technique, had been half-ruined internally. He could still use it if absolutely necessary, but it was visibly unsuited for extended combat.

“Your right arm must have been damaged then. And it looks like your body has taken quite a bit of internal damage too.”

There was no point in pretending otherwise. Aaron, as deputy commander, was not someone Maxime could deceive with mere words.

“Do you really think you can rescue your comrade from the dark mage’s dungeon in that condition?”

In a calm voice, Maxime replied to Aaron’s question.

“This is something I’ve chosen to do. If I succeed, then that proves I was capable.”

“You’re overreaching. Almost arrogant, even. If you were my subordinate, I’d beat some sense into you right now.”

Aaron regarded Maxime with a disapproving look. Maxime’s black eyes reflected the gaze of someone who had once been broken but had stood back up. Aaron sighed deeply. A will rebuilt after being shattered wasn’t something another person could easily break again.

“I’m sorry.”

“Well, if His Majesty hadn’t ordered me to make sure you survive, I would have just let you be.”

Aaron unfastened the sword from his belt and tossed it to Maxime. Maxime caught the sword, then looked at Aaron with slight surprise.

“Your sword was about to give out after that last battle. Consider this a temporary replacement.”

“…Thank you.”

“Don’t die down there. I’ll come back to help, so don’t overextend yourself. His Majesty’s command was to protect your life, so don’t throw it away so carelessly.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Maxime gave Aaron an awkward smile, which didn’t inspire much confidence in Aaron, who shook his head and carried Adeline out of the alley.

Maxime watched Aaron disappear from sight for a moment. It was fine. His trembling right arm should be avoided in combat situations. He gripped Aaron’s sword. The feel of the blade, used by a deputy commander of the royal guard, was markedly different. He circulated mana, sending it from his heart through his body’s extremities, as he stared down into the pit.

“Let’s go.”

With that, Maxime steeled himself and threw his body into the sewer. The moment he landed, the stench hit him—an overwhelming smell he’d never get used to. Without so much as a grimace, Maxime pressed forward.

A low, rasping sound, like a wolf’s breath thick with phlegm, reached his ears. As soon as he sensed the presence of his enemies, Maxime unsheathed Aaron’s sword. His eyes darkened as he peered ahead, and upon seeing the scene before him, he ground his teeth.

“Damn it, these lunatics…”

Three werewolves, creations of dark magic, were devouring something vaguely human. The tattered rags caught in their teeth indicated the unlucky victim had been a vagrant wandering the sewers. As Maxime revealed his presence, the werewolves stopped their feast. Their lifeless eyes locked onto him.

“They even let these monsters loose down here?”

Maxime shifted into a stance, but with his left hand, not his dominant right. His movements were sharp, causing the werewolves to growl threateningly. One of them, without hesitation, tensed its muscles to leap at him. A small breeze swirled around Maxime, and as the werewolf lunged, the momentum exploded.

Its jaws opened wide, revealing teeth slick with human flesh and a scarlet tongue darting out. Maxime drew a line with his sword through the creature’s gaping maw. The first werewolf, the one that had lunged at him, died as its upper and lower jaws split apart.

A furious growl erupted from the remaining werewolves. Without delay, both charged at him in unison. There was no time to waste. Maxime moved fluidly, like a ship caught in a favorable wind.

He ducked under the claws of one, avoiding the swipe aimed at his head. As he moved, his sword sliced into the werewolf’s vulnerable legs, just like the strike Adeline had attempted earlier. The second werewolf collapsed forward as its legs were severed.

“Next.”

Fangs flashed toward him. Maxime pushed off from the wall, twisting out of the werewolf’s bite. Its back was fully exposed. Maxime switched his grip on the sword to a reverse hold, using his right hand to support the pommel. He drove the blade straight down, piercing the werewolf’s spine.

There was a crunch as the bones shattered, and the creature’s strength drained from its body. With a sweeping motion, Maxime turned the werewolf into chunks of flesh. After finishing off the other one that had been crippled, Maxime winced, flexing his right hand repeatedly.

I’m fine.

He continued forward. The stench of the sewer was now overshadowed by the stench of death. Maxime moved towards the increasing odor of decay. He came to a wall in the sewer that he remembered. Just as he thought, a large hole had been punched through it.

Without hesitation, Maxime stepped through the opening. The green slime glistened under the dim light, casting a sickly, nauseating glow. He moved forward into the dark passage, his footsteps echoing as he made his way deeper into the dungeon.

There were no further obstacles. It was as if the path had been cleared just for him. He climbed the stairs of the lab, heading toward the chamber with three doors. The smell of death was overpowering now. The scattered remains of hybrid monsters littered the floor, rotting away.

The deeper he descended into the dungeon, the more Maxime’s mind sank into a focused state, the awareness of death sharpening his thoughts. When he reached the entrance to the stairs that led to the dungeon’s deepest part, Maxime exhaled a deep breath, as if trying to empty himself completely. He ignored the pain in his right arm and whatever creature might be lurking below. Only one thing occupied his thoughts now—the image of a single smiling person.

Maxime stepped down into the abyss. An arrow flew toward him, and with a quick motion, he deflected it with his sword. Another step triggered a trap, a sharp alarm echoing through the air as the atmosphere of the dungeon grew more menacing. Maxime kept his eyes fixed ahead as he passed one trap after another.

The stairway leading down was much longer than the one he had ascended before. After walking for what felt like an eternity, he finally saw a faint light just ahead.

There it was—a sound, the breath of something massive. This time, it wasn’t just three werewolves. The closer he descended, the clearer the sound became.

Snarls. Growls. Heavy breathing.

The stench of rotting beasts filled the air as Maxime saw shadows cast against the walls of the stairwell. Hulking, grotesque shapes twisted and writhed in the dim firelight.

Werewolves, hellhounds with insect-like heads, and something else… something that was little more than a mass of flesh.

The room below was filled with monsters, crawling over the ground and walls of the massive chamber. Maxime couldn’t help but recall the time when he and Theodora had fallen into the depths of the no-man’s land. That time when the entire world seemed to turn into one giant killing machine, trying to annihilate them both.

I swore I’d never throw myself into hell like that again… yet here I am, walking into it.

Maxime’s grip on Aaron’s sword loosened slightly in his left hand. The monsters, sensing his weakness, began to close the distance, their eyes gleaming with hunger. Drool dripped from their gaping jaws.

‘Deputy Commander… Or should I call you something else now?’
‘Hey, isn’t swinging your sword around all the time boring?’

Maxime looked up at the ceiling and suddenly let out a laugh. It wasn’t the laugh of a madman or someone who had given up. He genuinely found the situation amusing, and he continued to chuckle. Finally, he composed himself, though a smirk remained on his lips.

“I’m going through all this trouble to rescue you.”

The monsters’ growls grew louder. Maxime kept his gaze upward.

“So, please…”

He trailed off, as if speaking directly to her.

“Just stay alive.”

The monsters’ jaws snapped open. Maxime gripped his sword tightly with his left hand. From the start, he was going to break through with everything he had. His heart pulsed, circulating mana through his body. The first monster, a hellhound with a grasshopper-like head, disintegrated mid-leap, its body exploding into the air.

A werewolf, unable to contain itself, charged forward, ramming Maxime from below. He caught the attack on his blade, rising into the air. The vast plaza stretched before him, a hellish space filled with the writhing bodies of countless monsters.

It looks like my left hand won’t be enough.

Before descending again, Maxime raised his right hand. The pain didn’t matter. All that mattered was that it could still function. With both hands gripping the hilt, Maxime became the wind itself.

He carved a path with his blade. As he moved, the monsters’ sounds grew more distant. The sound of his blade slicing through their flesh also faded into the background. The loudest thing was his own breathing and the pounding of his heart. Warm steam rose from the ground as entrails spilled out across the cold stone floor.

Behind him…

The monster, which he had thought dead, split into two new creatures and pounced on him. He tore the hexapod off his back, but in that brief moment, another attack grazed him. From that point on, more and more wounds began to appear on Maxime’s body.

‘Salvation, huh? That’s not an easy word to use.’

Naira had said that once.

‘I’ve lived a long life, and I know how empty the word “salvation” truly is.’

Maxime swung his sword again, cutting down another beast. His body accumulated more injuries. His right arm became more and more damaged.

‘Salvation doesn’t really exist. It’s just a hollow illusion. Do you really think you can save others and, in turn, save yourself?’

Master, I think that’s the wrong question to ask.

For the first time, Maxime disagreed with his master’s words. Naira, perhaps pleased by his defiance, had smiled.

‘Oh? Then what?’

Instead of asking if I can save others to find salvation, I should first ask if I can even save others at all.

His master had burst into laughter. It was a laugh of joy at his disciple’s growth, but also a sigh of relief that his student had not strayed down the wrong path.

‘So, you think you can’t save them and that’s why you’re asking me?’

…No, that’s not it.

Maxime had shaken his head.

Even if that were true, I still must do it.

The weight of the beasts pressed down on his shoulders. Dozens of monsters bore down on him. Yet, Maxime’s knees didn’t buckle. The sword gripped tightly in both hands hummed low.

Whirlwind.

Maxime whispered the word. It started as a gentle breeze, growing as it circled around him. It devoured one monster, then grew larger. The sound of metal tearing through the air echoed in the chamber as the beasts surrounding him were torn to pieces, their blood spraying everywhere.

What are you waiting for?

The flesh beast roared. Its maw, lined with countless unknown teeth, gaped wide. Maxime was sure that beyond this creature lay Christine, waiting in the depths of the dungeon.

Let’s go.

Maxime’s foot slammed into the ground. The earth cracked beneath him. His mana reserves were nearly depleted. Even though the breathing technique passed down from his master was conserving his energy, the prolonged battle had pushed him to his limit.

So what?

Tentacles from the flesh beast speared through his body. Blood gushed out. His muscles were torn, his insides shredded. But Maxime’s sword didn’t stop.

‘Deputy Commander!’

When he thought back on it, Christine always had a wide range of expressions. And Maxime, when he was with her, also allowed himself to show more emotions. Most of the time, they were smiling. Sometimes, when she tended to her wounds, she would show a sad expression. It was a sadness so deep, filled with guilt, that it sometimes puzzled him. But he never asked about it.

‘Senior…’

And in her final moments, as she lay dying in his arms, she had finally confessed the truth she had been hiding. Even though, by that time, it no longer mattered to Maxime, she still couldn’t hide her guilt.

‘I… I’m sorry…’

“Yes.”

Maxime answered her silent call. Of course, there was no reply, but he could almost see Christine responding with a mischievous grin.

He brought his sword down, slashing through the obstacles before him. The masses of flesh disintegrated, unable to block his blade any longer.

A path opened up, leading down another set of stairs. Maxime descended once again. He could hear movement below.

“This bastard…!”

“You said no one would make it this far… Who the hell is that?!”

“Shut up. We need to stop him now!”

As Maxime’s blurry vision cleared, he saw a lab-like chamber before him. Hooded mages stood there, staring at Maxime, who was now covered in wounds and drenched in blood. Their faces twisted in disbelief.

“That damn guy… How did he get here?!”

“He’s not normal! Kill him!”

Move.

Maxime mouthed the words, though the mages couldn’t hear him. Their spells flew toward him, but Maxime’s form vanished. The head of one mage rolled to the ground. The remaining mages, panicked, began casting spells wildly into the air. One of them was split in half from the waist.

“P-Please, spare me…!”

Killing the mages was far easier than taking down the beasts. Maxime beheaded the last one and moved forward. Each time a hidden mage appeared, his sword danced. The corridor was painted in the blood of both mages and Maxime.

He continued down the hall. His steps faltered slightly as his exhaustion grew. The dungeon and lab corridors were a maze, but Maxime moved without hesitation, heading for the deepest part.

A light flickered in the distance.

Maxime blinked, forcing his mind to clear. Before him stood a pale glass tube. Suspended in the transparent liquid inside was a figure, her eyes closed.

“Your hair… it’s grown long.”

The golden hair that once reached her waist now flowed even further, draping over her lower body. Her green eyes, once so full of life, were hidden behind closed lids. On her pale chest, the scar where she had been pierced had long since healed into a faint mark.

“I’ve come to save you.”

Separated by the cold glass, the mage and the knight finally met again.