Chapter 30…
Nobles are a privileged class.
It means they are beings who possess power, wealth, and influence that are completely different from commoners.
Some used that in the right direction, but there were just as many—no, far more—who didn’t.
Even though Dante himself was a noble among nobles, he was convinced of this.
After his family collapsed, he had experienced that reality with his whole body.
Precisely because he had been among the privileged, the difference was even clearer to him.
And Crimson Veil.
They were nothing less than the crystallization of the dark side of noble society.
They measured everything by bloodline and family rank, treated the battlefield like a mere stage to prove their own prowess.
Born with everything already in hand, they moved only for fleeting pleasures and hollow honor—trash, in short.
If that was all, it wouldn’t be beyond tolerance…
But Crimson Veil delighted in casually crossing the line society had drawn.
Assault, imprisonment, exploitation, murder, rape—
If they judged someone to be beneath them, they committed such acts without hesitation.
And they felt no guilt.
To them, it was nothing more than amusement, a right they naturally deserved.
That was why Dante did not acknowledge Crimson Veil as knights.
They were just beasts with claws, dressed in the lofty packaging called swords.
Those can’t be the ones Eina mentioned.
Crimson Veil was notorious.
Infamy was still fame, after all.
But Isabella would never personally welcome such scum.
Which means there must be another order of knights.
Dante narrowed his eyes.
His gaze passed over the gaudy Crimson Veil and turned to the rear.
And then he saw them.
It’s them.
Unlike the ones clad in red, they entered casually, dressed plainly, trudging step by step.
There wasn’t the slightest sign of military discipline.
They only looked endlessly free.
But that freedom felt overwhelming.
As if a battlefield like this was nothing more than daily routine.
It was so natural it sent a shiver down his spine.
“Who are they?”
Dante, unable to guess who they might be, asked Mileon.
“Forgive me, I’m seeing them for the first time as well.”
“Even Sir Elaine doesn’t know?”
“My apologies.”
Neither of them knew.
That meant they weren’t a famous order.
But Dante was sure.
These were the special knights Eina had spoken of.
He couldn’t help but be convinced—
because the mana around those twenty or so knights was surging on its own.
Not something they were forcing out deliberately, but the power spilling out naturally.
Every single one of them has awakened their Trait.
Astonishing.
No order like that existed in the Principality—except Acracion.
They were elites among elites.
Now he understood why Isabella had come to greet them personally.
An order like that would be a massive help in holding back the monster wave.
“We should move as well.”
While they stood watching, the knights had already reached Isabella.
Dante stopped wasting time and walked forward.
“You came?”
Isabella greeted him with a smiling glance.
“I heard you called for me.”
“Yes. There are some people I wanted to introduce you to.”
Dante tilted his head at the word people.
Not just acquaintances… does she have a close bond with them?
Though, maybe not—Isabella liked to call anyone younger than her “children.”
“Thank you.”
He expressed his gratitude for summoning him, then looked toward the newcomers.
Ignore those bastards.
Unfortunately, Crimson Veil was at the front, making Dante frown.
But he couldn’t ignore them, because their leader stepped forward as representative of the reinforcements.
“To behold the illustrious Princess of the Principality is my greatest honor. I am Lionel Bellast, First Sword of Crimson Veil.”
Dante knew that name.
Second son of Count Bellast, and a knight who would later be called the Sword of Light.
The Red Thorn, Lionel.
Dante’s eyes darkened.
“…Yes. Pleased to meet you. Is the Count well?”
Isabella’s expression turned faintly strained.
Clearly she too knew about Lionel and Crimson Veil.
Normally she would never have met them face-to-face…
But we’re the ones in need of aid.
Dante understood her position.
“Thanks to you, he is in good health.”
Lionel answered with a smile.
Whether because of prejudice, his natural expression, or something else, Dante found that smile revolting.
Then Lionel asked,
“But who is the boy beside you?”
So, he doesn’t know.
Word that Dante had come to the Principality with Isabella hadn’t spread.
The Emperor hadn’t ordered secrecy, but no noble was reckless enough to spread news that the Sword Queen had lost to the heir of House Aquites.
So Dante’s identity was naturally concealed.
Of course, some knew—but Lionel wasn’t among them.
“They call me Dante.”
He intended to add “pleased to meet you,” but the words stuck in his throat.
So his introduction came across as arrogant.
Especially to Lionel.
Dante could see Lionel’s eyes twitch.
By temperament he would have shouted or drawn his sword immediately—
but even a brute like him didn’t have the guts to do that in front of Isabella.
And Dante’s status was unclear besides.
So Lionel restrained himself and asked again,
“Might I know your full name…?”
He trailed off deliberately, making it clear he wouldn’t bother with honorifics.
Dante shook his head at the paper-thin ploy.
“Hmm. I don’t see any reason you need to know.”
Lionel’s face stiffened at once.
When had he ever been treated like this?
“You seem to be a knight of the Principality, yet you lack manners.”
Straightening his back, Lionel glared at Dante.
“Manners…?”
Dante hadn’t expected that word from his mouth.
“No matter if you’re a noble of the Empire. Before Her Highness the Princess, you straighten your back without permission and lecture about manners?”
He chuckled.
“Ridiculous.”
It was nearly an insult.
Dante let the disgust bubbling inside spill out.
Lionel flushed crimson, trembling, hand twitching toward his sword.
If Isabella weren’t there, he surely would have drawn it.
“Such a sharp tongue for one still wet behind the ears. Since you wear a sword, you must aspire to be a knight. I wonder if your blade is as smooth as your tongue.”
It was a challenge.
The gathered soldiers began murmuring.
“Who is that knight, to speak so rudely to Sir Dante?”
“They said he’s Crimson Veil.”
“What’s that?”
“An order with quite a bad reputation even in the Empire.”
Dante was captain of Acracion, called the hope of the allied armies.
He might be young, but no one on this battlefield disrespected him.
And yet this no-name dared to talk about tongues?
The murmurs grew louder, reaching even Crimson Veil’s ranks.
“Captain.”
One of them carefully stepped forward to stop Lionel.
The mood was bad enough—don’t make it worse.
Grind—
Lionel’s teeth audibly clenched.
But that was all.
Not because he’d suddenly matured—
but because Isabella’s eyes had narrowed.
The temperature dropped sharply.
Not just metaphorically—it really fell by several degrees.
“Lionel. Is your station so lofty that you may wag your tongue before me?”
Her voice was cold as ice.
Lionel shuddered.
Fear.
And shame.
Two conflicting emotions seized his body.
“I’ll overlook this today for your father’s sake. Now begone from my sight.”
Her tone was different.
This wasn’t Sword Queen Isabella, but Princess Isabella giving an order.
Lionel bit his lip, unable to speak further.
He barely calmed his shaking body, and managed only to shoot Dante a murderous glare.
That was all he could do.
“My apologies. Please forgive my rudeness.”
Bowing to Isabella, he turned and withdrew with Crimson Veil.
The clanking of their armor echoed hollowly in the silence.
“Sorry. That must have been unpleasant.”
Still staring disapprovingly at Lionel’s back, Isabella apologized to Dante.
Her tone was back to normal.
“It’s fine.”
Not unpleasant, just a little irritating.
“That’s a relief.”
She gave a faint grimace, then smiled again.
“Anyway, the ones I wanted to show you weren’t them.”
At her words, another group stepped forward to where Crimson Veil had stood.
As expected.
They were the knights Dante had noticed earlier.
Exactly twenty-four in number.
At their head, a middle-aged knight bowed to Isabella.
“It’s been a long time, Your Highness.”
It wasn’t particularly formal.
But the respect and affection in it was unmistakable, even to Dante.
“Yes. It has been too long, Eisen.”
Isabella’s gaze was just as warm, almost like she was looking at an old lover.
Hmm.
Dante narrowed his eyes with interest.
“Let me introduce him. This is my old friend and comrade, Eisen Granado, captain of one of the orders guarding the Empire’s west—Palantium.”
“…Palantium!”
A name Dante had heard countless times.
Of course—
for Palantium would become the Empire’s most famous knight order in the future.
And its captain, Eisen, was even more special.
He would later be called the sword that cut the mad sky.
In other words—
The man who beheaded the Mad Emperor.
He was the knight who killed Adrian Ka Rojan, the next emperor, and brought peace to the Empire.
