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Chapter 372
Malcolm
Frontesis's wall had entered reconstruction by the dwarves' hands.
Without even needing a meeting, the dwarves voluntarily remained and declared they would reinforce the wall here.
Though they built it knowing it would collapse, as expected, its collapse had properly wounded the dwarves' pride.
-It won't do to be this shoddy bearing Frontesis-nim's name!
Vowing to seal not just the Far East but all zones adjacent to the Devil's Land, they launched the project.
Е̇ ñ u mа́. ì d̃
The dwarves moved like fish in water, laying out a massive construction site.
Incidentally, they also supported Vernel, helping with magitech equipment production.
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Abdulmesid and Hudret, who came as reinforcements, returned to where they originally belonged.
Since Abdulmesid was a general who came by Hashim's command, he simply finished his duty silently, but Hudret's reaction defied everyone's expectations.
He didn't suddenly reveal his true colors and act like a thug, as his notorious reputation would suggest.
They only secured a promise to provide aid when needed, then left with appropriate compensation.
Е̂ nũ mа .і̇d
Olivia moved for the greater good.
She was convinced this wave of victory would become the greatest wave capable of shaking the Empire, and that was only possible if she moved even a day faster.
A blood wind would blow through the Empire.
As always.
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Many died in the Far East, and many were wounded.
But even more people survived beyond the Wall.
Еn̆ů mȧ
Wounds thought incurable eventually healed, and they lived as if nothing had happened.
Because that is the life of imperfect mortals.
The area in front of City Hall was packed with people.
The triumphal procession was scheduled to take place there.
Ferda, as Regent, was managing and supervising everything.
He reviewed the roster again, conducting rehearsals, doing his best to ensure nothing went awry.
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"Arwen Consilirus, I greet the Regent-nim. I apologize for being late."
The Far East's new representative, Arwen, had arrived.
He was later than the appointed time, but Ferda said nothing.
He had endured difficult days.
"Did the Count-nim pass well?"
"Yes, thanks to you, I saw him off well."
Е̃ nũm̄ а́
"Fortunate. It's strange to call it fortunate for a tragic event, but..."
"No. It is fortunate."
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Arwen forced a smile.
"I'm just grateful I could send him off peacefully thanks to the Regent-nim."
As Arwen wished, Ulbera spent his final moments in bed.
He saw his daughter-in-law and grandson's faces, and even witnessed Arwen's return before meeting a peaceful death.
Е̃nu mа . і ḋ
Consilirus held a joint funeral for the Far East war dead within his territory, concluding it three days ago.
"What did he say at the end?"
"Just nagging under the guise of life advice. He said if I want to protect the territory, take good care of my wife. Was I that unreliable?"
Well, a bit.
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"You're not unreliable. It's just that Ludmilla is a woman far more clever than imagined. Consider yourself lucky she loves you."
"Yes, that's right. And he taught me one more thing."
Е̄ñ ǔm а
"What else?"
Whether he didn't want to share it willingly, or was curious because only he didn't know, he asked Ferda.
"What do you think protects and sustains a family?"
Ferda thought briefly and answered.
"Ludmilla?"
"No."
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"Then is it you?"
"That's not it either."
"I wouldn't know."
Arwen smiled at the sight.
He enjoyed it, as if seeing his past self.
"He said it was Ulbera. That my son is everything of the family."
E nuṁ ȧ.id
"Advice befitting him."
One could understand why Count Consilirus gave such advice.
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He lost everything when he lost his son.
Perhaps that was also why he took the vanguard in this war.
"Your mission has grown heavy. You must protect both the territory and the family."
"So it has."
Е̇ n ů m̂а̌
"I look forward to working with you, Count Consilirus."
"I will dedicate myself to the Far East."
Though young in age, since Ulbera Consilirus had marked him as successor, gaining the alliance's recognition wasn't difficult.
He would become the figure who guards this Far East as a new pillar.
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Shortly after, a mage observing the situation spoke to Ferda.
"A carriage has departed from the castle. 10 minutes until the start."
Ŵ.ӗ b n o v̇ e ľ Е̃ ǹu m а
"Inform everyone."
Organizing the scattered matters, they began preparing the ceremony in earnest.
With the joint funeral of the soldiers who guarded the Wall concluded, it was now time for the triumphal procession.
Time to wrap up the grief and celebrate the victory built upon those sacrifices.
A single carriage entered the controlled boulevard.
From that carriage, a silver-haired valet stepped down first and cleared the path.
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"Show proper respect!"
At those words, everyone knelt and bowed their heads.
Soon after, guided by that valet, a woman descended.
Everyone held their breath.
If there were a single grand rose blossom, wouldn't she be its meaning?
She walked elegantly upon the red carpet with a crimson, slender figure.
W е̄b̊ ñ оv̈е̌l̃ Ё ň û.ṁ а
"That person is our Grand Duke..."
If they were people of Hestia Village, they knew what Valdrova looked like.
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That figure who appeared during the hardest times, standing atop the Lonely Mountain, recharging their morale.
Countless bards sang songs bearing her name, and even now they steadily used it as a money-making tool.
"But I saw her once before, and she wasn't like that..."
"What did she look like?"
Ёñ ū m̂ а̌.іď
"Something sleek... an untouchable noble aura, I suppose?"
They didn't know the figure publicly shown was Penelope in disguise.
She had sharp eyes, a lithe physique, and appeared befitting the name 'Owner of Fire and Power'.
But now it was the real one, not the double Penelope set up.
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Her eyes were gently lowered, her body held beautiful curves without excess.
She felt not like an absolute monarch, but a pure and fragile woman.
Ӗ n uṁа
"This way."
Ferda courteously escorted her.
Valdrova stood on the dais, scanning the crowd.
Soon, the investiture ceremony began under Isabella's moderation.
"Ferda-ssi."
Valdrova whispered in his ear, barely moving her lips.
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Ferda, standing beside her, answered.
"Yes."
"I'm so nervous."
Her tail, hidden by the dais, was stiff, and her legs trembled.
"You said I just had to stand, but I don't think I can even do that. I want to hide, what do I do...?"
Ferda smiled at those words.
Ẁ ëḃn̈_о̄v ѐ ĺ Еn̈ u.ṁ ӓ
Then, something pushed into Ferda's hand from Valdrova's.
He was startled, but the touch was one he knew well.
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Ferda secretly took her hand beneath the dais.
"How is it now?"
Valdrova smacked her lips as if they tickled.
"The tension's gone. But..."
Еñù m̄ ă . і d̃
"But?"
"I keep wanting to laugh, what do I do now?"
"You're laughing right now."
"Ah, but you said not to laugh..."
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"Just laugh. Brightly."
Valdrova laughed as he said.
Е n̆ ûmӑ
Everyone watched that smile.
"They say dragons are beauties, but this exceeds imagination."
"How could one bearing such infamy as an evil dragon exist?"
No matter how you looked, she was far from a tyrant.
Even her faint smile exuded a benevolent aura, making the atmosphere warm and cozy.
"We will proceed with the investiture ceremony. Recipients, step forward to the dais."
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At Isabella's words, knights stepped forward in investiture order.
They stood one step below the dais, and Valdrova drew the ceremonial sword.
Her elegant figure looked like it might be sharp, but seeing the blunt edge brought relief.
"Ulbera Consilirus's son, Arwen Consilirus."
Isabella performed the investiture in her stead.
"You are the Far East's proud knight, and as commander you considered all people, throwing yourself into death with the spirit of chivalry. Thanks to that, tens of thousands of soldiers and lords returned home. Acknowledging your merit, by the authority of the Great Grand Duke, Guardian of the Far East, Valdrova, I bestow upon you the name 'Guardian Knight'."
Ẁė b n̆ ov́ē l̄ E n̄ üm̀a
Valdrova carefully touched the sword to his shoulder, completing the investiture.
"It is an honor to behold the Great Lord up close. House Consilirus will follow your will."
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"Thank you."
Arwen bowed courteously and withdrew.
Many knights thereafter received titles and territories, proceeding smoothly.
'Finally, he comes.'"
Ӗ ṅ u mӑ . і̇ d́
The most ill-fitting man at the triumphal procession.
Despite wearing formal attire, he seemed to reek of dirt from his face.
He was the last in the investiture order.
"Malcolm of Pitch Hill."
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At his name, he knelt before Valdrova with stiff, awkward movements.
"Instead of fighting bravely at the front lines, you retreated to the rear. Yet when you were needed, you threw yourself into death's battlefield more bravely than anyone, saving comrades, and arming yourself with Alte's belief that life knows no status, you rescued 527 precious families."
Е̄ n_u m̃á. ĩď
527 people.
Hearing that number, people gasped in surprise.
Merits are prone to inflation.
But only those of high rank bother inflating them.
Knights without patrons like Malcolm had no reason to inflate their merits.
Everyone showed disbelief, but those who'd been to the battlefield knew the number wasn't exaggerated.
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In fact, among those receiving investiture here, quite a few had been rescued by Malcolm's hands.
"Thus, I bestow upon you the name 'Savior Knight'."
Valdrova, who hadn't spoken a word from nervousness, opened her mouth for the first time.
"I heard... you saved Ferda-ssi."
Malcolm flustered at the beautiful voice.
"Uh, th-that... I just did what I had to do!?"
Е.n̄ūm а
"If not for you, I wouldn't have met Ferda-ssi again. You're the person who saved my life. So won't you come closer to me?"
"Huh!? Ah, yes!"
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Whether to stand and go, or go while kneeling.
He ended up dragging his knees to Valdrova's front in his flustered state.
Some people couldn't bear to watch the mood-breaking sight and squeezed their eyes shut.
Why did she tell him to come closer?
Е̊ ň u̇ḿа̂
Soon everyone learned the reason.
Valdrova tilted her head, pressed her forehead to Malcolm's, and kissed him.
No, precisely, she placed two fingers on his forehead and kissed there.
But that alone was enough to show the formality of the Queen's kiss.
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Not only the audience but even those on the dais were shocked.
The Queen's kiss was the most honorable moment for a knight.
Ё_n ǔ m̂ ӑ
A country bumpkin who'd never kissed any woman received the kiss of a beauty, moreover a dragon called the Continent's Immortal—an honor no title could match.
"Since I'm unmarried, I can't really kiss you. So please be satisfied with this."
"Ah, no. I'm just overjoyed to receive the Dragon-nim's glory!"
His face turned beet red, and he stammered on in excitement.
Valdrova smiled with a sense of kinship at Malcolm's appearance.
She felt somehow at ease.
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"What will you do after this?"
"Uh, th-that... I want to visit my hometown for a bit!"
Malcolm began babbling.
"I want to go back to my hometown with Rocinante and brag about today! A-and I'll confess to Suji!"
"Suji, you say?"
"Yes! She said she'd accept my confession if I returned as a knight!"
Ӗ ṅum̈а̄.іd
"Yes, I hope you succeed."
Valdrova glanced at Ferda.
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Ferda brought out the words he'd prepared.
"When you step on your hometown soil, I'll prepare it so no one can look down on you. They'll have no choice but to praise your achievements."
"Th-thank you so much!"
He seemed a bit more knightly, but his sniffling showed he still couldn't shake the country bumpkin vibe.
Е nu.mӑ
The triumphal procession ended thus.
The festival began, and people ate, drank, and danced.
Malcolm, who never fit in with anyone, that day drank with many knights here and there.
"Th-that, Regent Ferda-nim."
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Garnet, who was assisting, approached and whispered.
"Hm?"
Е̃ ňú.m á
"You told me to look into Malcolm, so I did."
He'd instructed her to examine what problems his hometown had before he returned.
Since Malcolm had done him a great favor, it was only right to do this much.
"The woman named Suji has already started a family with another man."
It wasn't particularly surprising.
"Are you certain?"
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"Confirmed up to two children. No particular family discord, living happily."
It was confirmed she really just said it casually.
Would it be okay to send him off without telling him?
He felt a pang of guilt, wondering if he should tell him the truth.
"Hm?"
As he thought this, someone naturally sidled up next to Malcolm.
Ё ṅu m̂ а̀ . іd̆
An elf, at that.
She was blatantly circling around Malcolm.
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It wasn't just a feeling—the elf was staring intently at Malcolm.
"Who's that elf?"
Garnet answered.
"She's the elf Malcolm saved during the World Tree incident. She was also at the fortress siege."
Е̊ n̈ u m̌а . іd́.
"Does she owe Malcolm a debt and is repaying it?"
"That can't be. Simply that wouldn't be enough."
Garnet tossed out information casually.
"I hear Wood Elves have a habit of keeping things they like close and observing them."
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"That means..."
The conclusion was drawn, but he didn't want to accept it.
Ẇеb́ nо vе l Е̌ ǹü m̈ ä
That elf?
Malcolm?
But knowing that, he realized the look in her eyes toward him was quite different.
Of course, oblivious Malcolm didn't seem to notice at all.
He surely never even imagined a beauty like that had her heart set on someone of his station.
'What a lucky human.'"
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Not long after, Malcolm departed for his hometown leading the grandest procession.
The villagers of Pitch Hill, thinking a noble person was coming, all prostrated to greet him.
But they realized the protagonist of that procession was the man they knew well.
The Fool Malcolm who stole the bird tied to the village mill and fled.
The Fool Malcolm they'd vowed to beat with a whip if he ever returned!
He said with a triumphant expression.
Ĕn̄ ů m̊ ã .і̆ d
-What did I tell you? I said I'd become a knight and return!
It was a scale impossible to call a lie.
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Malcolm brought out rare food and drink at the village hall, and told them everything that happened to him.
The story of dancing with the Imperial Princess at the Spring Festival.
The story of rescuing countless elves at the World Tree battlefield.
And the story of saving the Regent's life in the Continent Defense War.
E̊ńum а̂
Even receiving a dragon's kiss for that merit—all of it.
From that day on, Fool Malcolm began to be called by the nickname Braggart Malcolm.
Of course, Suji didn't keep her promise with Malcolm.
The ring and flowers he prepared to propose fell miserably before the two children she held.
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Suji was equally flustered.
-Did you really believe that, you fool? You kept clinging to me trying to drop it. Everyone in the village knows Mike and I like each other... You blockhead, I should've just cursed you out properly if I knew this would happen.
En ũ m ǎ
Malcolm was seized by betrayal.
He wanted to denounce her for breaking her promise.
But her son and daughter resembling her were so pretty he could only hand over the bouquet and turn away like a fool.
He felt his entire life had been denied.
The elf who followed him smiled watching Malcolm's shattered state.
Malcolm didn't even imagine at that moment that the ring's owner would become that elf.
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He received the name Savior Knight at Valdrova Castle, but was called Foolish Knight more often.
Though he bears the name fool, no one looked down on him.
He was undoubtedly the Grand Duke's knight.
