“How’s the situation?”
Norsen spoke gently,
but his blue eyes reflected no warmth—only a trace of disdainful coldness.
“Ah, right, the Soul Devouring Lord! It’s inside! Your Excellency, the hunting squad, reinforcements! We must… must finish it off…”
Murphyana snapped back to reality, hurriedly speaking, though her words came out in a jumble.
Seeing the disheveled female knight before him, nearly stripped to rags, Norsen let out a faint, intriguing smile.
“Calm down, Murphyana. Panic is unbecoming of a Holy Patrol Knight. Didn’t we come to reinforce the border forces precisely to exterminate the source of disaster and leave a bold mark on the Monument of Merit? This is a perfect opportunity.”
His voice remained steady, his domineering gaze sweeping over the flustered knight. A flash of barely concealed disgust flickered deep within his eyes.
“But before that, there’s one thing to confirm—did he really die inside?”
Murphyana, as if doused with cold water, was jolted awake, suddenly recalling the objective of this mission.
To be honest, she couldn’t be certain.
The actions of Weiss during the rear guard were still fresh in her mind.
That man hadn’t crumbled like a typical mercenary; he even had some strategy against a lord-class Abyssal Form.
But Weiss was all alone. How long could he hold out inside?
She couldn’t say for sure, and could only mutter with a reluctant voice:
“I think… he’s not going to survive. There’s no way he will…”
Before her words fell, Norsen’s expression instantly darkened.
“Your answer is ambiguous, and I don’t like that. Make sure he truly dies—in the right place, in the right way—that is my order. You haven’t forgotten that, Murphyana Heinetionshu, have you?”
“N-no, subordinate would never dare forget!”
The female knight’s body began trembling uncontrollably.
“If necessary, you must eliminate him yourself. That’s what I said—but you didn’t.”
Norsen’s tone was calm, almost flippant, but his fingers drummed relentlessly on his sword hilt, betraying his growing irritation and dwindling patience.
“That’s because… because… the Soul Devouring Lord threatened me… I couldn’t…”
Murphyana stammered, attempting to explain—
—“Smack!”
An unexpected sharp sound.
The adjutant beside her suddenly delivered a loud slap, cutting off her words and turning her exquisite face swollen and red.
Norsen didn’t even glance at her. His icy blue gaze flicked emotionlessly toward the shadowy depths of the forest.
“You endangered your life but failed to carry out my orders to the end—do you realize how much trouble this causes me?
An ant that should have died cleanly instead dragged on, wasting more time than expected, creating unnecessary openings. Afterwards, it will inevitably raise suspicion.”
According to the plan, the knight squad was supposed to enter immediately after the mercenary’s death.
The script was already written—
“Although reinforcements arrived swiftly, regrettably they couldn’t save the mercenary who served as our bait.”
That perfect segue of regret,
was now about to become a mistake caused by the sluggish actions of the knights—because this female knight failed to execute her part.
Norsen could not tolerate flaws.
“To be a sword is to treat executing orders as a mission above all else—that is the creed knights uphold and embody. Your sister lived by that until her last breath, yet you have allowed the name etched on your blade to be soiled. Murphyana, you are unworthy of being a knight.”
“Th-That’s not true, I… I…”
Enduring the burning pain, blood seeping from the corner of her mouth before she could wipe it, Murphyana received another slap from the adjutant, knocking her to the ground.
“Still think you have the right to argue?”
The adjutant sneered sharply.
“Young Master has given you more than one chance, yet you’ve repeatedly failed. You’ve lost all value.”
He spat contemptuously at the noble knight lady, preparing to kick her again, but Norsen raised a hand slightly.
The adjutant’s movement stopped instantly, bowing and stepping back.
Norsen sighed in mock resignation, his half-lidded eyes looking down on the fallen knight.
“However, I’m not entirely unreasonable. Given the difficulty exceeded your abilities, it’s somewhat forgivable that you didn’t meet expectations. So, you get one last chance to make amends—”
He reached over, drew the knight’s sword from the adjutant’s belt, and casually tossed it.
The longsword landed point-first by her boots with a dull thud.
“Go back and finish off that unnecessary mercenary. Do it now. I won’t give you much time—before the knight squad arrives to take over the battlefield. Execute this final order well, and you will remain a member of my knight squad.”
As if granted salvation, Murphyana didn’t even bother standing properly; she crawled forward quickly, grabbed the sword, and slammed it hard against her commander’s head.
“Yes! Your Excellency, I will definitely, definitely carry out the order!”
Frantically pulling herself to her feet, she ran without looking back, sword in hand, plunging back into the light-devouring forest.
The adjutant watched her disappearing figure, showing no attempt to hide his disdain.
“Young Master, I don’t think she’s reliable at all. She’s probably going to die in there. A waste of the Heinetionshu bloodline, less obedient than a dog. Better if I go and finish it cleanly…”
“No need.”
Norsen chuckled lazily.
“Even a waste has its way of being handled. Let her go back; if she kills that extra mercenary and is still alive, then we’ll execute her for dereliction of duty in protecting the mission. Given Lord Lortisa’s attitude toward that mercenary, she deserves some explanation afterwards.”
“Ah, Young Master, you mean… use her as a scapegoat? That fits perfectly with her sister’s ending—an idiot to the very end.”
The adjutant’s eyes lit up but quickly raised a concern.
“But Young Master, what if she dies before killing the mercenary?”
“Then it’s even simpler, isn’t it?
‘Regrettably, the mercenary fell under the control of the Soul Devouring Lord. Murphyana failed to rescue him and was killed instead. At the critical moment, our Holy Patrol Knights arrived and, at the mercenary’s request, ended his misery with their swords…’”
Norsen intoned the words like reciting an epic lament.
The adjutant couldn’t help but applaud repeatedly.
“Brilliant, Young Master! Sending Murphyana back is just making use of trash—two birds with one stone. So that final order means she’ll end her life still bearing the title of a Holy Patrol Knight. That’s mercy from you, Young Master.”
Listening to his subordinate’s flattery, Norsen laughed disdainfully.
“Enough of your idle chatter. Go, notify the other members of the knight squad. The Holy Patrol Knight must draw their sword—it’s time to kill the Soul Devouring Lord and clear the disaster. That first glory belongs to us.”
“Yes! Subordinate obeys—”
The adjutant performed a perfect knightly salute and, before leaving, grinned mischievously.
“You spoke wrong just now, Young Master. That greatest merit should belong to you.”