Ch-357. **I Am the Master of the Round Table**
—
The Knights of the Round Table!
A truly unrivaled knight order, with Wilhelm at its head.
Yet aside from Commander Wilhelm and the Pure-White Knight Serengeti, there were scarcely any known names among its members.
As if they were ghosts.
They were the so-called *Phantom Knights*, roaming countless battlefields.
A miracle born from the once-weak Kingdom of Valan!
It would not be an exaggeration to say that Valan’s rise to its current stature was largely thanks to the Knights of the Round Table—yet from the beginning, they did not belong to Valan.
* *They are mercenaries.*
* *Monsters who appear wherever war breaks out!*
* *Nameless, origin unknown—specters of the battlefield.*
The battlefield was where they grew.
A mercenary knight order that fought wars for pay on behalf of warring kingdoms.
They were called a knight order, but in truth, they were little different from a mercenary band.
Still, no one regarded them as mere mercenaries.
Because they did not fight only for money—they cared about cause and honor.
However, the moment they stepped onto the battlefield,
they became demons.
Weapons of evil that could not be considered human.
They fought, killed, and thirsted solely for blood—ferocious fiends!
* *If not for Wilhelm, the Knights of the Round Table would be remembered as a den of malevolent gods and slaughter.*
Such talk was common enough.
Because nothing was known about them, they were instead beautified through Wilhelm alone.
Soldiers who faced them on the battlefield all lost their will to fight.
It was astonishing how such creatures had been gathered together.
“The Knights of the Round Table?”
“Vice-Commander Abelof…?”
Those who heard the name naturally tilted their heads in confusion.
The Knights of the Round Table were gone.
Most were believed to have perished during the Great Expedition.
And to hear the name of a vice-commander for the first time, at that—
After all, besides Wilhelm and Serengeti, even the vice-commander’s name had never been revealed.
And yet—
The Knights of the Round Table, Vice-Commander Abelof?
Still, it couldn’t be dismissed as a lie.
First of all, this situation—
How could anyone forcibly open and use a sealed warp?
More than that, the presence of the man calling himself Abelof—
It was so intense, it felt as though it were swallowing the entire holy city.
“Wait—hey, isn’t that knight Serengeti?”
“The Pure-White Knight Serengeti?”
“Y-yeah, that’s her!”
At that moment,
everyone looked past Vice-Commander Abelof.
Hidden for a moment by Abelof’s overwhelming presence, there she was—undeniably the Pure-White Knight Serengeti.
Even clad in helmet and armor, her radiant bearing could not be concealed.
The murmur among the citizens swelled instantly.
“That’s right. The one who recently forced King Frederick to step down…!”
“If the Pure-White Knight is with them… then it really is the Knights of the Round Table.”
“Don’t tell me they’ve been resurrected?”
“Then why are they here, in the holy city of Adrium?”
Serengeti was currently the hottest topic in Pangaenia.
King Frederick of the Iron Kingdom, who had been conquering neighboring nations like a storm—
The tale of how he withdrew after clashing with Serengeti was being told like a legend.
“Then those sightings of Wilhelm…”
“…So the rumors were true?”
“No way. They’re all really alive?”
“That can’t be. I know a mercenary who swore he saw several of them die!”
“Ghosts that don’t die, no matter how many times you kill them…!”
*Gulp.*
Throats bobbed everywhere.
Perhaps the rumor that the demonic Knights of the Round Table could not die was not just a rumor.
Perhaps they truly did not die.
Yet the puzzling thing was *why* they had appeared here—
In Adrium, the holy city of the Goddess Faith.
“…So these are the ones who dared trespass into the sacred city.”
At that instant,
someone appeared, their presence making the air itself tremble.
“Lord Marlon!”
“The strongest holy knight!”
“Woooah…!”
Cheers erupted from the crowd.
Marlon—the Pope’s direct subordinate and the most renowned of all holy knights—had arrived, leading his order.
Absolute invincibility.
An undefeated monster.
A man so rarely seen that encountering him even once a year was difficult.
Naturally, people cheered.
But Marlon himself was incredulous.
“I heard you died in the Great Expedition.”
He knew.
He did not know their names, but he knew they truly were Knights of the Round Table.
And yet it was impossible.
They had died during the Great Expedition.
This wasn’t mere hearsay—Marlon himself had investigated and confirmed it with highly reliable sources.
And now they stood here, alive?
“We have come to see the Pope.”
“His Holiness is busy. He has no time to see trespassers.”
“Then we will have to go to him by force.”
“…Do you think you can get past me?”
Marlon let out a short laugh.
Vice-Commander Abelof.
Though hearing the name was new, meeting the man was not.
They had once clashed on the battlefield.
And—
“Did you not already lose to me long ago?”
Abelof had lost to Marlon.
Though he was monstrous as the rumors claimed, he was no match for Marlon.
Overwhelmed by sheer force, he had nearly lost his head.
If not for Saintess Seia intervening, Abelof would already be dead by Marlon’s hand.
And now—Abelof, when even Wilhelm himself would be laughable?
Fighting again would change nothing.
The outcome was obvious.
At that moment—
*Shing!*
Vice-Commander Abelof drew his sword and spoke.
“We of the Round Table have come in person to judge the Pope who concealed the death of the Goddess and clasped hands with an Apostle of an Outer God. If you stand in our way, we will consider you accomplices and cut you all down.”
Firmly.
In a voice that did not tremble even the slightest.
The words spread throughout the holy city.
“W-what is he saying?”
“The Goddess… is dead…?”
“H-hey! Don’t utter such blasphemy!”
“There’s no way His Holiness would ally with an Apostle of an Outer God!”
…The confusion among the people only deepened.
The Goddess could not be dead.
And for the Pope to conceal it and ally with another god—that was even more absurd.
Marlon’s expression hardened instantly.
“You are truly blasphemous, Abelof… All of you will be executed.”
*Shing!*
The strongest holy knight, Marlon, raised his sword.
He could not let such words go unanswered.
He would cut them all down.
A clash between Marlon, the strongest holy knight of the Goddess Faith, and Abelof, Vice-Commander of the Knights of the Round Table.
Everyone held their breath at the sudden confrontation of titans.
—
—
Abelof felt as though he were dreaming a long dream.
Countless memories—from birth to death—replayed again and again.
* *A child chosen by Lord Diablo.*
* *You are chosen. You must accept death.*
He had been born to die—a sacrifice to an evil god.
Destined to be devoured by Diablo, one of the Four Great Evil Gods.
Perhaps that was why.
Abelof did not know hope.
He did not even know such a thing existed.
Not until he met the Knight King, Wilhelm.
* *Abelof. You have talent too precious to waste. Will you walk with me?*
Wilhelm, who eradicated the cult of the evil god, made him that offer.
And not only to him—to all the others as well.
They were not called disciples, but they were no different from Wilhelm’s disciples.
They roamed countless battlefields together, sharing hardship and survival.
He taught them how to live by the sword.
Their names did not need to be known.
So long as they could swing their swords beside Wilhelm.
So long as they could witness his legend firsthand—
They would gladly give their lives.
*I should have died.*
During the Great Expedition, Abelof had died.
He burned his entire being so that the Knight King Wilhelm could reach the Demon King.
But…
He lived.
The World Tree gifted them new bodies.
Bodies of incomparable power.
Stronger, more complete, and more resilient than anything before.
“H-how is this possible…?!”
Marlon’s eyes widened.
Though hailed as the strongest holy knight—
His blade could not reach Abelof.
Instead, Abelof’s sword was overwhelming Marlon.
How could this be?
It wasn’t just physical completion.
He had grown technically as well.
To an extent that defied comparison.
*Because I was raised as a sacrifice, my body could not keep up with my talent.*
Abelof had always felt regret.
His talent had been great enough to be chosen as a sacrifice—
But because he was to be offered to an evil god, he could not hone it from a young age.
By the time Wilhelm discovered him, his body had already stiffened.
The other members were the same.
Now, with bodies perfected by the World Tree, their talents shone.
Yet there was another reason Abelof was overpowering Marlon.
*Slash!*
Marlon’s sword of light was severed.
In the blink of an eye, Abelof’s blade was at Marlon’s throat.
“As expected—you’ve grown weaker.”
Abelof spoke in a disappointed voice.
It was true that he had grown stronger.
But it was equally true that Marlon himself had weakened.
Holy knights were granted power by the goddess.
Now that the Goddess was dead, their power could only diminish.
“If you don’t want to see him die, open the way.”
“…How dare you threaten Captain Marlon…!”
The holy knights raised their swords in unison.
And then—
“Open the way.”
Someone stepped between them.
All who saw her gasped.
“S-Saintess Seia?”
“This is not a matter for the Saintess—”
Stopping intruders was not her place.
Yet Saintess Seia shook her head firmly.
“It is not *I* who steps forward.”
Then she continued.
“His Holiness the Pope awaits you, Knights of the Round Table.”
—
—
The Papal Palace.
The Pope sat at the center, surrounded by twelve cardinals.
He slowly raised his head to look at the Knights of the Round Table.
“…I have heard. You sought me?”
A senile, weary face.
Skin mottled with age spots.
An old man who scarcely looked like a Pope.
Abelof addressed him.
“Pope. You who concealed the death of the Goddess and took the hand of an Apostle of an Outer God. We have returned from the underworld to exact judgment.”
“Insolent wretches! Do you know where you stand?!”
“Knights of the Round Table, mind your manners!”
The cardinals shouted, veins bulging.
The Pope raised his hand to silence them.
There was something more important.
“Wilhelm. Is he alive?”
“That’s not what matters here.”
“…Then he is dead.”
*Hooo.*
The Pope exhaled deeply.
A look of disappointment crossed his face.
From Abelof’s answer, he immediately grasped Wilhelm’s death.
If Wilhelm were alive, he would have come himself—he would not have sent Abelof.
“Then who moves you now?”
He was curious.
The Round Table moved only by Wilhelm’s will.
They were his hands and feet.
It was astonishing they were alive at all—yet to storm the holy city meant they acted under command.
But Wilhelm was dead.
If Wilhelm was dead, they should have scattered.
At that moment—
“It is I.”
*Step.*
The man standing at the very back of the Round Table—
The one who had silently observed everything—
“I am the new master of the Round Table, Pope.”
As he removed his helmet and stepped forward—
“Y-you are…!! Aaaahhh—!!!”
Someone suddenly screamed—a cry bordering on a wail.
Twisting his body, tears streaming from his eyes—
He fell to his knees.
An utterly incomprehensible reaction.
“O embodiment of the Goddess’s will itself!!!”
It was Aaron.
Newly elevated to the rank of cardinal, he greeted—with every ounce of reverence he possessed—the very embodiment of the Goddess’s will.
