Published at 9th of May 2019 8:29 pm

Volume 4, Act 16 Part 5: -03:55:51

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– A woman was crying.

Her beautiful countenance became more ragged by the day with sorrow, and wrinkles of dilemma were etched into the ends of her brows; the woman was silently crying.

She blamed and questioned herself.

She was ashamed beyond measure.

As a sinner who shouldered all the guilt and blame in the world, she could only wet her face day after day with her tears.

Everyone was speaking wicked words of her – an unchaste wife, a traitorous queen.

Those foolish plebeians blinded by the glorious myths did not know the truth, but only surrounded her and reprimanded her all at once.

They did not even know that her husband was not a man.

In this world, only her noble visage made ‘him’ give out his true heart.

However, all ‘he’ could recall were her frustrated and sorrowful tears.

Yes, ‘he’ had hurt her.

Loved her –

Was loved by her –

That was the root of their fall.

Even she must have had discarded everything back then and consigned herself.

An ideal king was needed to save the country ravaged by chaos and war – and a noble and virtuous queen needed to be beside the king. That was the way the monarch was supposed to be in the dreams of the populace.

A woman’s life was so insignificant compared to this grandiose ideal.

Even if the king wasn’t a man, even if this marriage was between two women who hid the true gender of one and could never be consummated, this sacrifice was necessary to protect the country and its greater good.

Even so, ‘he’ still wanted to save her.

The first time ‘he’ had been granted audience in the court, ‘he’ had sworn silently in his heart that ‘he’ would do anything for this woman, and would even give up ‘his’ life for her.

It had been too late when she discovered that it was this thought of ‘his’ that had been tormenting her.

She had fallen hopelessly in love with ‘him’.

She had already discarded the happiness of a woman. Love was the greatest taboo.

Even if this romance was impermissible, there should still have been a path in which they could make their difficult resolution, shoulder their sins, and continue till the end.

What man would not fight against the entire world for the woman he loved?

However – ‘he’ could not do that.

She was not a ‘woman’, nor was she a ‘human’, but a mechanical part called a ‘queen’ that supported the king ruling the world.

'He’ was not a ‘man’, nor was he a ‘human’, but a mechanical part called a ‘knight’ that served the king with absolute loyalty.

'He’ was the man called ‘the Knight of the Lake’ – incomparably brave, courteous and chivalrous, elegant and flamboyant at the same time. ‘He’ was indeed the personification of the essence of chivalry, an existence that all admired.

Not only was this ideal knight worshipped by all, he had even been blessed by the fairies. This title was ‘his’ ultimate glory, and at the same time the greatest curse bestowed upon ‘him’.

The ‘perfect knight’ who served the ‘perfect king’ – this man could only live in this way that others had expected and trusted ‘him’ to, and so give up ‘his’ life for it.

'His’ life did not belong to ‘himself’, but to the people who honored chivalry and gave their lives for it.

And the king that ‘he’ served was truly too perfect, a hero that was absolutely flawless. The ‘Knight of the Lake’ could never harbor any thoughts of betrayal towards this ‘King of Knights’ who had saved ‘his’ home country from the depths of war.

'He’ swore ‘his’ absolute loyalty to the perfect monarch, and made a noble friendship with the monarch.

'He’ also knew that, behind this noble chivalry, there was a tormented and ignored woman who wept by the day.

Just which path had been the correct one? No one could tell now.

Should ‘he’ have been cruel till the end and stayed with ‘his’ ideals, or should ‘he’ have discarded loyalty and lived for love?

While ‘his’ heart was twisting in agony, time was passing mercilessly by. Finally, the worst outcome greeted ‘him’.

Villainous fellows had shattered the king’s prestige to pieces, and the betrayal of the queen was finally revealed to the world. In order to save the queen, who had been given the death sentence, ‘he’ could only go against ‘his’ king in arms – thus, ‘he’ lost everything.

A knight turned traitor –

'His’ disloyalty broke the balance within the Knights of the Round Table. Finally, this incident became the trigger of war and carnage, and the country shattered to pieces in the flames of war.

Men had often called ‘him’ with those mocking tones.

That stained name was carved deeply in the history of the past and would never be washed clean.

Therefore, she fell into a deep self-deprecation for having misguided that ‘perfect knight’, and was crying to this day.

In the end, the only thing ‘he’ had done for the woman ‘he’ loved – was to make her cry forevermore.

Had ‘he’ been born as a sordid man without honor, ‘he’ may have taken away the queen without a moment’s hesitation and destroyed the king’s prestige.

But ‘he’ was a knight, an overly perfect knight.

For the king who was ‘his’ rival in love, for the one who caused the woman ‘he’ loved to step onto that painful and difficult road – 'he’ had never had any feelings of hatred till the end.

Yes, who could possibly depreciate that famous king? That king, whose glorious name was passed down through the eons, was more courageous and noble than anyone else. That king had ended that troubled time.

That king, who had never lost a battle, was uncorrupted and just, honorable but never affected by personal emotions, and had never made a mistake in life.

After all, that king had never blamed ‘him’ throughout life. Even when the king had gone to exchange blows with ‘he’ who had been discarded by the Round Table, it had been a helpless act to make an example out of ‘him’ with the country as their witness, and never the king’s original intention. For ‘him’, who had committed the greatest sin of betrayal, the king had always treated him with a pure and noble friendship even to the very end.

That noble king was so ‘correct’. How could anyone hate or despise that monarch?

However – if that was the case, then to whom should ‘his’ regret and her tears be dumped upon?

The hatred ‘he’ brought to the grave was extracted at the end of time’s long passage, and tormented ‘him’ for an eternity on the Throne of Heroes that had no end… And then ‘he’ finally heard the call from afar.

Come, mad beast.

Come, stubborn vengeful spirit. That sound from the end of time had called.

That sound woke ‘his’ long-held wish.

Had ‘he’ not been a knight.

Had 'he' been a beast knowing no honor and had no reason, had 'he' been a demon fallen into the league of beasts, maybe 'he' could have avenged this hatred and regret.

Yes, madness was the road to salvation.

A beast would not be lost. Therefore, it would not feel pain. No one expected anything of it, no one entrusted anything to it. If ‘he’ could become a beast and direct the movement of ‘his’ limbs with nothing but ‘his’ own desire –

This wish became the connection that linked ‘him’ with the end of time, and placed ‘him’ on this battlefield that ‘he’ cared and knew nothing about.

'He’ had long ago forgotten ‘his’ name, long ago forgotten ‘his’ disciplined vow. ‘His’ body only existed to perform the murderous skills that ‘his’ hands had long been drenched in. The pride that took shame in this no longer existed, and the heart that regretted was lost as well. This was who ‘he’ currently was – the existence called ‘Berserker’.

There were no regrets. To fall, to be freed, that was what ‘he’ had sought.

Moreover, the merciless hand of Fate had even arranged such an ironic rendezvous.

"... Ar… thur…”

The call that slipped out of 'his' lips no longer meant anything.

Even so, this silver swordsman who now knelt in the torrential rain was undoubtedly that person whom 'he' had both loved and hated in the past.

That noble visage and that majestic and solemn face, which innumerable hopes and blessings had been bestowed upon, was now kneeling in front of despair. Now the king knew the truth that had been hidden for so long, knew the hatred that had been buried in eternal darkness. The king forgot the pride of a monarch and mourned.

– Do you hate me so much, my friend? –

Yes, that’s what I wanted to see – the beast in his heart cried, the knight in his heart sobbed. Savor it well. Now you know how many tears we’ve shed for your transient glory, how we have annihilated ourselves, wasted our days, and sat in emptiness waiting for old age.

Now was the time when his buried injustice would be revenged. The fallen black knight lifted his sword of vengeance up high.

– Do you hate me so much, Knight of the Lake?! –

Ah. Yes, that’s right.

At the time, had I not been a knight, but only lived as a man –

Had I not been a loyal subject, but hated you as a human –

Then, perhaps, I could have saved that woman!

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