“Bring those bastard knights!”

“You guys, come here right now!”

The thugs that had taken over Kirsche City once again called on the knights as if they were dragging along slaves. The knights of the city had been reduced from honorable protectors of peace and honor to people who were being used as meat shields by the thugs.

It had happened in front of their eyes. The baron’s passing broke the seal of the lord’s territory and poison spread inside.

Every time he heard of the strange decisions the young lord and his advisors were making, Arthanal placed a hand on the cherry tree engraved on his armor, the symbol of the Kirsche Knights.

“Trust,” he would say.

To his complaining troops. To his floundering family. To his nervous townsmen.

“Trust.”

And in front of that complacent trust, Arthanal could only watch as the city was completely taken over by the thugs.

Every position was filled by scum, and the knights were not even allowed to carry weapons except wooden swords and leather armor. It was pure hell, but Arthanal and the Kirsche Knights endured.

Perhaps he was running away from the responsibility. Maybe he didn’t want to accept that his city was slowly being rotten from the inside. That was why, Arthanal placed a hand on his emblem with a newfound resolution to endure.

Along with his knights, Arthanal remained in the order. Even though a giant, stout man was assigned as the Knight Captain, they didn’t leave.

The knights endured so that they could still protect the people of the city. When the thugs dragged around the elderly and forced them to pay exorbitant taxes, the powerless knights could at least shield some blows and when the thugs were annoyed by somebody bumping into them, the powerless knights could at least take the fault on themselves.

But…

Even the most staunch of knights were slowly losing their will.

Arthanal and his knights were dragged to the front of the city, the breached walls right in front of his eyes. A while ago, maybe the knights might have seen this as a chance to take back power, but now their spirits had been shaved to a degree where they couldn’t react to such a situation.

Skeletons were flooding in from the breach. With each passing moment, the skeletons were encroaching on the land of the city like snakes crawling at their prey.

“Knights! What are you doing!?” The roar of the Knight Captain snapped Arthanal to his senses. He took in a deep breath, if only the people of Rascarte had come to the rescue… it was unfortunate that this city had to face a Dark Mage right after the takeover.

The skeletons broke through the lines of thugs. Far at the very center of the breach, a lone man with an axe and a flame circling around him walked straight ahead. No one could stand in his path as he made his way to the Lord’s Castle.

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Arthanal took in a deep breath.

So this was how they were going to die.

At the hands of skeletons that were using other skeletons like shields and kicking the living shit out of everyone that came in their way.

“Don’t just watch! Go and fight, buy time for me to escape!” The Knight Captain whose genetic makeup was closer to hogs than to homo sapiens huffed and snorted from his stout. “Go!”

The knights raised their weapons and were about to charge at the skeletons. They slowly moved ahead, ready to accept their deaths.

This much was enough. Now they were going to die.

With a hand on the emblem, the last thing he had carved out from his armor, Arthanal rushed into the sea of skeletons with his eyes closed.

The skeletons’ footsteps came closer. They were upon him… and then past him.

“Heh?” Arthanal opened his eyes and looked around. “What’s happening?”

The skeletons ignored the knights and charged past them. Their target was the man at the very back, the Knight Captain.

“W-what? Don’t chase me! The knights, fight the damned knights!”

The Knight Captain immediately turned around and tried to run away. Against these numbers, even a hog couldn’t charge its way through. Arthanal could only watch before another skeleton stood in front of him.

The number ‘9’ was marked on its head with ink. The skeleton slowly extended its hand toward Arthanal’s chest, he stepped back but the Skeleton was faster.

A bony finger pointed at the emblem on his chest. Once, twice, the skeleton looked straight into Arthanal’s eyes and raised its hands.

“This… you…” Arthanal watched as the Skeleton raised both its arms up to the sky. He could see it, almost as if an illusion spell had been activated.

He could see the shackles on the skeleton’s wrists gleaming under the sun. With a gutsy shout, the skeleton broke the shackles and took its fate in its hands.

Tears streamed down Arthanal’s eyes. The knight bit his lips and nodded.

“Liberation…?”

The skeleton marked ‘nine’ nodded.

The wind of liberation was blowing in Kirsche.

***

Have any of you seen a mountain town? Especially in another world? If someone hadn’t, allow me to explain what it looked like. A mountain town was erected on a slope and at every moment, the largest building at the top-most part of the town, in this case, the lord’s castle, looked like it would come tumbling downhill like a bowling ball.

If that ever happened, wouldn’t the people inside be in danger?

If I was told that high-rises and skyscrapers were made by ‘magic’ even I wouldn’t want to step in them. I couldn’t let these people place themselves in such dangerous situations solely by trusting civil engineering of another world.

That’s right. Since I was a good, upstanding citizen of this new world, I decided to kill everyone inside myself before the building could score a strike.

“Asirmo.”

The living flame wrapped itself around the bone ax, covering the blade with a veneer of fire. I kicked the door to the lord’s castle down and stepped inside.

The Skelians would handle the rest, but I had some questions.

Why would people who had been quiet all this time suddenly start kidnapping people on such a large scale? Going as far as to get rid of all the mountain bandits that had been in a symbiotic relationship with them? It was a curious situation.

I quickly climbed up the stairs and toward the lord’s room. Of course, it was not all smooth.

“AAAAH!”

“M-my legs?! My legs!!”

Right, the ax was swinging all through the road, making a clean path to the top. I didn’t have to go all the way to the lord’s chambers to find the foe I had been looking for.

In a long red garb, a muscular man with scars on his face looked at me.

“All the way here? You are a more capable enemy than I thought.” The man raised his right hand, the iron gauntlet on it gleamed brightly.

“You must be Tanien the Iron Gauntlet,” I remarked. “Tell me, what makes you suffer?”

“Hah! Must be a cultist.” Tanien ignored me and took a step ahead. I was hoping for an answer, noticing my expression, he smacked his fists together. “Don’t bother with words, I don’t talk to dead people.”

The de-facto ruler of Kirsche charged at me.