Betrayal Knight's Joyful Faith

Chapter 518

Arendt fell asleep again and woke up after sleeping for three days and nights.Finally, he received permission from the healer to see Arendt.

“Hey, you fucking bastard!”

Llewellyn, who had suddenly barged in, suddenly embraced Arendt. Startled, Arendt pushed him away.

“Ugh, that’s really gross, isn’t it?”

“You damn bastard! I thought you were going to die! Do you know how scared I was?”

But Llewellyn pretended not to hear and began to cry loudly.

Arendt, frantic, tried to push him away, but his efforts were futile as he had no strength in his arms.

“Ugh!”

“Oh, senior! Get this bastard off me!”

Arendt asked Arthur for help, but Arthur just stuck his tongue out mockingly.

“It’s your karma. If you scare someone, you deserve to be punished to that degree.”

“No, it hurts! It hurts! Get off!”

After all sorts of twists and turns, Arendt was able to get rid of Llewellyn, who was squeezing out all his tears and snot.

But the freedom he found was short-lived, as Seton, Enoch, and Rosie, who had returned, joined him.

“Why are you so hurt, Sir Arendt?”

“Waaah! Don’t get hurt anymore!”

While Seton and Rosie were clinging to Arendt’s shoulders, Enoch and Salem were also standing a step away, sobbing and wiping their eyes.

“Do whatever you want…”

At that point, Arendt had no choice but to give up entirely.

Everyone laughed quietly as they watched Arendt, his expression dazed, accepting the dampness on his shoulders.

Eventually, Arendt was able to escape only after the healer scolded them.

“Wow, damn…”

After everyone had been kicked out by the healer, Arendt collapsed on the bed with a face that was completely drained of energy.

“What crime have I committed…”

Laius rebuked Arendt’s words, which were like a lament.

“You did commit a crime. No one ever told you to push yourself like that.”

“Don’t I always tell you, if you don’t like it, then move faster? Why are you making a fuss with me when you’re the ones who are slow?”

“If you didn’t like it, you shouldn’t have gotten hurt. You’re so talkative, even though your whole body is a rag.”

Lumiel smiled bitterly as she watched the two bickering.

“I made a foolish decision… I’m sorry. I made it even harder for Sir Arendt.”

“I’m glad you know…”

Laius immediately shut his mouth.

“Ugh.”

“Please don’t blame yourself, Your Excellency. No one would call your courage foolish. I just wish you had valued yourself more.”

“Haha…”

Lumiel laughed awkwardly. No matter how nicely Laius tried to cover it, once she’d heard Arendt’s words, she couldn’t make them disappear.

Arendt, who was about to glare at Laius, soon gave up and sighed deeply.

‘One way or another, is it no different from usual?’

Laius still treated Arendt like a troublemaker. Lumiel’s still looked at him like he was a child who needed to be kept away from deep water.

Laius’ words that he would treat him no differently than before also seemed sincere.

Even though they knew full well that Arendt von Eckhart had been replaced…

‘Am I still me after all?’

Of course, neither of them were as calm as they appeared. While he was unconscious, they must have been constantly agonizing and worrying.

And they came to their own conclusions.

They decided not to ask any questions and to keep quiet about all the facts.

They were trying to put into practice what they said, that it didn’t matter what kind of life he lived before.

‘…Should I say that I’m lucky?’

Because it also meant that they were choosing to respect him as Arendt.

If that was the case, then he too could maintain his position as Arendt von Eckhart, as if nothing had happened. Maybe he’d eventually have to show them his back and leave someday, but the time was not yet right.

‘Because I’m ready either.’

He was still too weak to calmly talk about what had been taken away.

Then, .

The door opened without any knocking and Lexion came in.

Lexion paused for a moment after seeing the scene inside the room.

Laius covered Arendt’s mouth with one hand, and Lumiel smiled awkwardly.

He could roughly guess what the situation was.

“…It’s really amazing.”

As Lexion spoke with dry sarcasm, Arendt pushed away Laius’ hand and responded.

“I’m kind of amazing.”

“You should just keep your mouth shut. I saved you from dying, and now you’re making such a fuss the moment you open your eyes.”

. Lexion came in, closing the door, and stood in front of Arendt.

A previously unseen eyepatch was placed on Lexion’s face.

‘Come to think of it…’

He suddenly remembered. After the battle with Nikephoros, Lexion had returned with one eye severely damaged. Arendt tilted his head.

“Can’t you fix that?”

“It seems difficult. It won’t really matter, since I don’t rely on sight like you lower races.”

Lexion responded nonchalantly. Then, Laius and Lumiel’s expressions hardened.

“Thank you for your hard work, Lord Lexion.”

“No need for flattery at this point. But more importantly…”

Waving away Laius’ polite words, Lexion yanked Arendt’s blanket off. Then, without warning, he grabbed one of his legs and began examining it closely.

He twisted the ankle, bent the knee, then pulled the leg out straight.

Arendt sighed briefly and left him to his own devices.

After a while, Lexion clicked his tongue.

“I guess it’s become a bit dull. You might even limp a bit.”

“It doesn’t matter. As long as I’m alive, that’s all that matters.”

Arendt shrugged. Laius glared at him, who spoke so indifferently.

“Don’t talk as if it isn’t your body.”

“Will it be difficult to fully recover?”

This time, Lumiel asked with concern. Lexion nodded.

“I guess. It’s a wound from before this battle, right? It got worse before it fully recovered, leaving aftereffects.”

Lexion nodded at Arendt and continued speaking.

“What’s already weakened can’t be healed even with healing magic. It won’t significantly affect your daily life, so be content with that.”

“I see…”

Lumiel’s expression clouded. But Arendt paid little attention.

“Okay, now.”

As always, he had a blank, expressionless face, but somehow, it seemed refreshing. Thanks to this, the three of them lost even the justification to continue nagging.

Arendt continued calmly.

“As long as I can breathe, that’s enough. I don’t expect much.”

“…Anyway, he’s always the same.”

Lexion sighed deeply and shook his head.

“That’s okay. Now that everything’s sorted out, just give it to me.”

“What?”

When Arendt asked curiously, Lexion frowned.

“That book you took. I’m sure the High Priest kept it. It’s been strengthened with magic, so it wouldn’t have been lost in that fire.”

“Ah, that’s…”

Lumiel, who had been listening quietly, tried to intervene, but Arendt raised a hand to stop her.

“Your Excellency, have you forgotten the promise you made to me?”

“Yes?”

When Lumiel paused, Arendt spoke naturally.

“There’s a password we agreed on.”

“Ah.”

Lumiel’s expression suddenly became ambiguous.

“Sir Arendt, are you serious?”

“Of course I mean it.”

Lexion frowned.

“What are you trying to do now?”

“It’s not a trick. You promised to tell High Priest Lumiel the password and then come see me. Once you make a promise, you have to keep it, right?”

Arendt shrugged.

“Well, now that Nikephoros is dead, it doesn’t really matter. But if you’re going to do it, it’s better to do it thoroughly.”

At first glance, he had a cold expression, but there was a subtle playfulness. The rıghtful source is novel-fire.ɴet

“I’ll have the servants come find it for you. When they return with it, I’ll tell you the password. You can take it then.”

“…What on earth are you scheming now?”

Lexion grumbled.

It was possible to search through the ashes and find it himself, but honestly, he didn’t want to set foot in a temple, no matter how devastated it was.

“A scheme? When did I ever do something like that?”

“Your Excellency, do you agree with that? After all, that guy entrusted it to you, so returning it is at your discretion.”

Lexion turned his arrow toward Lumiel. Lumiel smiled awkwardly and averted her gaze.

“Unfortunately, I owe him my life… I’m sorry.”

“Truly remarkable.”

Lexion grumbled in disbelief. He had never imagined he would be treated like this after showing his true colors.

Arendt smiled leisurely, like a well-fed cat.

“It’s a shame. Everyone here is on my side.”

“…”

The three paused. After a moment, Lexion shook his head, seemingly helpless. Soft smiles appeared on Lumiel and Laius’ lips.

Lumiel added with a small laugh.

“Yes, that’s right. I’m sorry, Lord Lexion.”

With Laius and Lumiel gone, only Arendt and Lexion remained in the room.

In a dark room, Arendt sat leaning against the bed and asked coldly.

“Are you leaving?”

“…You’re quick-witted. How did you know?”

“Now that the fighting is over, there is no need for you to remain in the Empire.”

Arendt said with a pretended calmness.

“Because you asked me to return something you hadn’t sought before.”

“You’re right. I have nothing to do here anymore. I’ve been here too long.”

Lexion also nodded calmly.

“The rest is up to you to figure out.”

The Empire still had many tasks to tackle: post-war recovery, dealing with the damage, and quelling internal turmoil.

The relationship with the Luce Church had not yet been resolved.

With a significant number of believers remaining within the vast Empire, it would not be easy to sort out the internal turmoil for the time being.

But that was all up to humans, and not something Lexion could get involved in.

“It’s kind of funny to ask this now, but what exactly is it?”

Arendt asked in passing. Lexion, who had been silent for a moment, blurted out.

“Records.”

“Records?”

“Records of my people.”

Lexion repeated his words once more. Arendt’s eyes widened slightly.

“It’s not as grand as you imagined. It’s just a brief record of our kind, written by some strange race that followed God Chernion.”

Arendt, who had been silent for a while, asked again.

“If you have that, will you be able to find other dragons?”

“I once thought so and searched for it, but now it seems useless. All the dragons have disappeared of their own accord, so it’s pointless. That’s why I’ve put off retrieving it.”

Lexion, who had been silent for a moment, added:

“But, it would be meaningful as the last remaining relic of my kind.”

“…”

Silence fell again in the room. After a moment, Arendt changed the subject.

“Where will you go when you leave?”

“Well.”

Lexion spoke as if sighing.

“Even in this situation, I might be able to find my missing kin. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to take care of any remaining remnants.”

“Do you think there are still dragons left?”

“Not everyone would have died. Nikephoros seemed to think we were the only two left on this earth…”

Lexion trailed off at Arendt’s question.

“There might be at least one left. They’re most likely hidden among the humans.”

“Hmm.”

Arendt spoke with casual indifference.

“Well, do your best.”

Lexion couldn’t help but show a complicated expression at the words that were either sarcastic or encouraging.

It was because he had no idea what on earth was going on in that tiny head of his.