Betrayal Knight's Joyful Faith

Chapter 217

Altair slowly closed his eyes and opened them again.“I don’t know much either, so I’ll just tell you what I’ve heard and seen.”

“That’s enough.”

Altair simply nodded at the short reply.

Even after that, the Grand Elder remained silent for quite some time.

Caw…

Far away in the forest, a nocturnal bird cried out in the distance.

As the bird sound died down, Altair began to speak again.

“My mother was a scholar, so instead of going to war, she stayed behind to protect the young elves.”

Altair was born after the war ended.

After the hero Khan passed away, the elves who survived the war settled here and began building a new home.

By the time he came of age, the framework of the current kingdoms was slowly being established, with each region divided into four by race and a Grand Elder being elected.

“And my mother was working on restoring the lost records of the Nereid Temple along with other comrades who had remained in this land during the war.”

Arendt listened to him quietly.

Altair’s gaze wandered into the distance.

“Then something happened. One of the scholars died suddenly.”

That was where it all began.

Arendt’s face hardened.

Altair continued calmly.

“He wasn’t murdered. He didn’t have any chronic illness. He just passed away one day, as if he was sleeping. He was the one who wrote the books that I ordered Zakar and Polaris to hide.”

“This is quite…”

Arendt opened his mouth without realizing it, trailed off, and then added.

“…It’s quite blatant. What about the will?”

“No. The funeral was held quietly. The books were almost finished, and my mother took over the rest.”

A calm answer came back immediately.

“But not long after, another scholar passed away. He too passed away quietly. Can you imagine?”

Altair laughed self-deprecatingly.

The scholars died one by one without any warning.

It was as if their souls had literally been taken away by the hand of God, and they would close their eyes peacefully over and over again.

“Until then, there were quite a few elderly people. But as each day passed, they quickly became weaker.”

It wasn’t just scholars.

Warriors returning from war, elders, and those who stayed home to care for children were all targets.

“Then one day, another scholar passed away. Unlike the others, he had a horribly distorted face and was holding a book with the name of the evil god in one hand.”

“…”

“At the moment of his death, he announced to his people that a curse had been placed on them by the evil god.”

People who were barely middle-aged suddenly collapsed, died in their sleep, got sick, or even committed suicide.

They tried everything to prevent death, but it was no use.

The belated erasure of Chernion’s name from the book was also one of those attempts.

“Half of the elders remember that time. I found out later that the same phenomenon occurred among the elves scattered outside the kingdom.”

From the time Altaïr was a child until he became an adult, the curse continued to progress very slowly without stopping.

Altair let out a self-deprecating laugh.

“Do you understand? An entire generation died young. Many of them didn’t even know the cause of death. My mother was one of the few who survived long enough.”

It might have been better if they had been wiped out all at once.

The elves who were forced to watch their comrades dying immediately trembled in fear.

The fear of young people watching their parents’ generation disappear one by one was also great.

The adults eventually gave up on surviving and devoted all their energies to raising and protecting their children for the rest of their lives.

That was also the reason why they stubbornly kept a record even after realizing that they had incurred the wrath of God.

“And finally… when I came of age, she too passed away. She looked peaceful, as if she was sleeping. She was the last remaining member of the war generation from the Fog Forest Tribe.”

Arendt was speechless.

It was a long time for humans, but for elves, it was just enough time for a child to be born and grow into an adult.

From a human perspective, it was a situation where all the elders of the species died in just over 20 years.

Altair and his peers experienced with their whole bodies what was clearly an abnormal situation.

Arendt, who had been unable to speak for a while, finally spoke.

“…Didn’t they inform the other races of the situation?”

“It seems that they decided not to do so. The war was already over. If the vengeance of the evil god was directed only at the elves, then they have decided to endure it willingly.”

A natural generational change was already taking place on the human side.

Not only the hero Khan, but all those who experienced the war firsthand also lost their lives.

The same was true for the dwarves, because they were a race that lived longer than humans, but much shorter than elves.

They thought that asking them for help would only cause more confusion rather than finding a solution.

“One thing is certain, everyone I know never gave in to the evil god.”

Altair’s voice continued quietly.

“My mother said this. .”

She accepted death calmly, as others had done.

“But in the end, it turned out like this… I don’t know.”

Elves who were forced to lead their race at a much younger age had to find a way to survive.

In this way, they chose to minimize interactions with outside races and cover up what happened in the previous generations.

Fear was something they had decided to keep for themselves.

Arendt, who had been silent for a while, opened his mouth.

“So the other elders too…”

“They understood and respected my decision to avoid getting involved with the evil god. Even though it was stupid, as you said.”

The Grand Elder smiled bitterly.

“You came here… maybe it was Lord Luce’s mercy. Even if you were forced to come here, we finally got a chance to fight back.”

Altair seemed like a man who had given up on everything.

Arendt, who was blankly staring at the sight, suddenly realized that he was clenching his fist.

He forced himself to relax his grip and slowly sighed as he rubbed his face.

It was to calm his agitated mind.

“…What about Elder Polaris?”

“He doesn’t know. He’s been living outside for a long time. His father died young, but he probably just thought it was a disease.”

It was incredible.

He was trying to keep his composure somehow, but his chest kept getting tighter.

Finally, Arendt rubbed his face again and let out a deep sigh.

“…I’m going crazy.”

‘It all made sense.’

But finding out about it didn’t solve anything.

As his suspicion that God might have intervened turned into certainty, his already complicated mind was about to explode.

The elves seem to think it was Chernion’s doing, but Arendt wasn’t even sure about that.

Their trust came only from their faith in Luce, and there was in fact no proper evidence.

‘Shit.’

Just a few hours ago, the nape of his neck, where Nereid’s hand had touched, felt eerie again.

Altair, who had been staring blankly at him in silence for a long time, opened his mouth again.

“Are you still going to fight?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t you know why I am telling you this story? It is to dissuade you one last time. It may be a sin against Lord Luce, but I, a coward, would like to avoid disaster if possible.”

Altair muttered to himself.

“Perhaps it is not for us, insignificant beings, to step forward. How could we know the will of the great ones?”

“…”

Feeling the tingling sensation in his fingertips, Arendt clenched and unclenched his fists several times for no reason.

A cold wind brushed his cheek.

He could fully understand Altair’s desire to do petty things in order to survive.

Rather, it was rare for someone like Laius to be able to face all the storms head-on.

But nothing changed anyway.

Laius would never back down, and the play would continue on.

He slowly regained his composure amidst emotions that were about to waver.

“…I have no intention of just sitting back and doing nothing.”

Arendt took his hands off his face and responded harshly.

The Grand Elder shut his mouth at the sharp voice.

Arendt raised his head and looked straight at Altair.

“It is not God who is causing trouble on this earth now, but his lunatic followers. God and all that are problems for later.”

In the eerie darkness, golden eyes held a cold light.

“Then, we should first clear out the things in front of us.”

“…I see.”

There was nothing more that could be added to that.

Altair eventually gave up and bowed his head.

After a brief pause, Altair spoke again.

“Peace is cruel, Lord Arendt. It is fleeting, but quickly gone.”

Parents, their families, siblings and colleagues were sacrificed.

But even that was only a temporary measure.

Altair stared at Arendt with a sad heart.

“Please, do not become a sacrifice of peace.”

“…”

It was the heartfelt advice of a coward given to someone walking toward their own demise.

The apprentice knight was silent for a moment.

And after a while.

“A sacrifice?”

A mocking reply came back, completely out of place in the situation.

Altair’s eyes widened.

Arendt’s breathing, which had been somewhat disturbed, became stable again.

His eyes also had a peculiar indifference.

Arendt blurted out, standing awkwardly.

“Which one will be the sacrifice?”

“…What does that mean?”

“Do I look like a person who would have such a noble idea of ​​sacrificing my body for peace?”

Arendt burst into laughter at Altair, who asked in a bewildered manner.

“If necessary, peace must be sacrificed. Not me.”

A clear voice was clearly engraved under the deep night sky.

Arendt looked straight at Altair and spoke clearly, word by word.

“I don’t need a peaceful daily life. I will continue to humiliate, harass, and make fun of others.”

From the beginning, the person called ‘Arendt’ was far from peace.

That was the role he was given.

“I’ll trip them, then, after knocking them down, I’ll come to lift them up and shove them down again, before laughing at them. It doesn’t matter if they’re a crazy fanatic, a knight, an elf, or a god…”

An unusually clear voice continued.

Altair looked at the apprentice knight as if he were possessed.

A genuine smile of anticipation spread across the young man’s youthful face.

Arendt added cheerfully, his arms slightly spread apart.

“Wouldn’t it be hilarious to see those who had the whole world at their feet floundering around with their heads in the mud?”

“…”

Standing under the dim moonlight, Arendt looked extremely arrogant.

As if he already held the world in his hands.

Altair, who had been licking his lips several times, soon burst into laughter.

He became convinced that he could not stop that madman.

There probably wasn’t anyone in the world who could stop him.

Even if that person was God.

There was only one line the Grand Elder could utter at this moment.

“…Good luck, Lord Arendt.”

It was a prayer without the blessings of God that was often said.

Arendt, who noticed this, smiled mischievously.

The next day, the knights left the Second Elven Kingdom.