Clomp, clomp...
Strange feelings continued to wash over Knight Wellinger as he headed to the Round Table.
‘How bizarre.’
How many times had he visited the Round Table over the years? Although he had never counted it, the number should easily exceed three digits.
Even if Knights often dealt with situations within their countries, and the Round Table allowed its core members to hold remote conferences, some matters still required those with the Knight title to visit the organization’s headquarters.
Especially more so when they were supposed to uphold the Round Table’s customs!
As such, Knight Wellinger had to step into the Round Table HQ countless times.
The powerful emotion of awe he felt back when he stepped into the Round Table for the first time after enduring long and arduous training and self-sacrifice to become the representative Knight of his nation still lived on vividly in his memories.
He always tried to recall that emotion whenever he returned to the Round Table’s HQ. He told himself that giving his all to this organization was for the good of his nation as well as his comrades of the Round Table.
Wellinger slightly raised his head to look. The surroundings still looked familiar.
Only by walking through this somewhat dim corridor for some time could he reach the main hall where the actual round table was.
Walking through this corridor used to instill this reverential feeling in his heart. Countless Knights had walked the same path before him. They probably also told themselves to give their all for the continued prosperity of the Round Table.
For today, however... Walking through this familiar corridor imparted a different kind of emotion, something new and foreign, on Knight Wellinger.
‘Is my heart heavy?’
If not, could it be awkwardness? Unfamiliarity? He wasn’t quite sure how to explain it.
One thing was for certain, however. And that was how this supposed-to-be-familiar corridor gave him such a different feeling right now.
There could be one of the two possibilities for this—either he had changed, or the Round Table had.
Neither of those answers could be considered as a good outcome.
The air in the corridor seemed to crush down on him. Maybe it wasn't the air but the heaviness in his heart was the culprit, after all.
Knight Kramer walking behind him quietly called out, “Knight Wellinger?”
“Mm...” Wellinger responded with a brief nod without looking back. That must’ve been enough of a reply since Knight Kramer continued to speak.
“Most of the Knights we’ve spoken to have agreed to our cause and promised to lend us their aid.”
“Did you say most?”
“Yes. That’s because...” Knight Kramer lowered the volume of his voice to that of a hushed whisper. “Knight Besley and his faction refused to respond to us till the end.”
“So, not an approval but not a refusal either. Simply silence...”
“Indeed.”
“Mm, I see,” Knight Wellinger muttered, his brow creasing a little.
‘Does that mean they won’t help us till the end?’
Wellinger slightly cocked his head to the side. “Then, could Besley be in the Master’s camp?”
“It doesn’t seem that way. We’ve been monitoring his camp to the best of our abilities but have not detected any communication between Besley and the Master.”
“How certain are we of this?”
“My apologies, but we can never be 100% sure. The Master is a terrifyingly savvy opponent, after all. However, knowing Knight Besley’s temperament, he wouldn’t be confining himself in his residence if he really had joined hands with the Master. At least, that is my prediction, Knight Wellinger.”
Wellinger frowned again. Prediction, was it?
Their situation wasn’t easy-going enough to risk so much on something so uncertain as a prediction.
‘After all, this won’t be our usual conference.’
The upcoming conference would determine the future direction of the Round Table. In other words, it’d be a tug-of-war between two pillars maintaining the Round Table, the Master and the Knights from various countries.
Who wins this war would change the fate of the Round Table.
‘It’s the same as walking on a knife-edge...!’
Wellinger’s camp had amassed enough support. And they also boasted enough strength to threaten the Master. Even then, Wellinger didn’t feel confident. Not even close.
If his opponent was still the same Master from his memories, Wellinger amassing this much strength would have been within that man’s calculations.
‘And he must’ve made plans to counter us.’
That one thought sent chills down Wellinger's back. It felt like his blood rapidly cooled down
and this heavy lump filled his heart from merely recalling the Master and his name.
That old man should be wise enough to guess what Wellinger would do and make preparations accordingly.
However, Wellinger had no choice but to trust something as uncertain as “prediction” in a battle against the Master?
Normally, he wouldn't have done this. But did he have any other choice? When time was not on his side?
The longer he and his side took, the more advantageous it’d become for the Master. Since that was the case, Wellinger had to make a choice.
Should he step back in fear of the unknown and choose the safety akin to livestock feeding on fodder? Or risk his life and join this all-or-nothing battle?
‘How... heavy.’
Knight Wellinger stealthily looked behind him and saw Knight Kramer looking back, his eyes filled with determination and confidence.
If Kramer was so confident, why didn’t he take the lead? Instead of egging Wellinger on like this?
‘Nope, that can’t be done.’
Wellinger sighed under his breath.
He would've liked nothing more than to dump the responsibility of this battle on Kramer's shoulders. Unfortunately, that dream must remain a dream. Not everyone could take the lead and charge at the target, after all!
Kramer lacked the knowledge, experience, and popularity to represent the Knights. If someone like that took the lead, this mutiny would have never gotten the support of these many Knights.
With Wiggins and Leveaux no longer in the picture, only Wellinger and Besley were recognized enough to rally the others together. With the situation in that state, Wellinger had no choice in the matter anymore.
Kramer spoke in a firm, unyielding voice. “Knight Wellinger.”
“...Yes? Please speak.”
“We must end this situation today.”
“Yes, I know.”
“We don’t have anywhere to retreat after this. If we fail to get the Master to surrender, the only choice we have remaining is...!”
The only choice remaining? Wellinger furrowed his brow. What could that be? Obediently keeping his head down and living like the Master’s pet dog?
‘No, that can’t be it.’
He wouldn't have started this whole event if that had been his intention all along. Since that was the case, there could be only one outcome.
...The demonstration of one’s martial prowess!
If words or laws could not convince the Master, physical strength would have to be introduced into the proceedings next.
That must be what Kramer was thinking right now.
Wellinger couldn’t help but chuckle subtly.
‘Hah... You are actually entertaining such thoughts?’
Not even Knight Leveaux tried to use force to suppress the Master.
Although one could argue his actions weren't all that different from using physical strength to crush the Master, Leveaux at least relied on the Round Table's decision-making process to get the job done.
But Knight Kramer implied that he wouldn’t even stick to that minimum requirement, something a Knight serving the Round Table’s laws should never say, never mind entertain in his head!
Did that mean the rebels were driven to the extreme edge? Or did it mean the Round Table's rules were no longer seen as sacrosanct as before?
‘Just like the other quandary, neither is an attractive answer for this one, too...’
Clomp, clomp...
Knight Wellinger didn’t say anything and continued to walk ahead. Nothing would change at this stage by talking to Kramer, anyway. In the end, it all depended on how the Master would respond to their demands.
Bright light could be seen at the end of the dim corridor.
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In the past, Wellinger found this sight quite sacred. Divine, even. He had no doubt that the light at the end of this deliberately dim corridor represented the hope offered by the Round Table.
When viewed through his currently jaded eyes, though?
‘It’s all theatrics, that’s what it is.’
Now that he could no longer view the Round Table with the same reverence as before, it became easier to see through the ruse. Whether it was this corridor or the rays of bright light gushing out of the hall, they were all a part of the ‘theater.’
Everything had been considered during the construction of this place. As in, the Knights were meant to focus on the light in the distance while walking through this dim and lengthy corridor.
What an obvious design it was. One that Knight Wellinger was no longer willing to fall for!
Clomp, clomp...
Wellinger stepped into the light and was greeted by a massive hall. And in the center was the large round table. He quickly sucked in a deep breath before making his way toward this round table.
Most of the Knights were already here, seated by their assigned chairs, silently waiting.
‘How long has it been since this many Knights have gathered here?’
Wellinger couldn’t quite remember it.
Knights handled the duties of the Round Table and their nations simultaneously. People withstanding such insanely busy schedules wouldn't have found it easy to make time for an in-person conference like this.
Even then, all the seats were almost filled. It implied that these Knights considered this conference's topic a matter of grave importance.
“You’ve arrived, Knight Wellinger.”
“Good to see you.”
“It’s been a while, Knight.”
The Knights smartly got up from their chairs around the round table and solemnly greeted Wellinger.
Knights were supposed to be of equal standing in the Round Table, even though they voluntarily assigned a hierarchy, of sorts, according to one's age and experience on the job.
In other words, these Knights had no reason to stand just because Wellinger had arrived.
Even then, they still chose to do so. It was their way of expressing their belief in Wellinger as far as this matter was concerned.
“It’s great to see you all again,” said Wellinger while smartly bowing toward other Knights.
Some of these people had always been on good terms with him. Meanwhile, he wasn’t so eager to see a few people here thanks to personal history or the conflict of national interests. Of course, he knew none of these mattered this time.
Whether they shared bad blood or not, everyone in this room was in the same boat. Now was the time to bury the hatchet and cooperate with each other.
Wellinger settled into his seat, then checked his watch.
‘There’s still some time left.’
He prayed that the Master would take his sweet time today. Even if the Knights had already exchanged their opinions, talking directly with one another was perhaps even more crucial.
Wellinger got the conversation rolling. “Thank you all for coming despite your busy schedules.”
“No problem. We thought our presence was a must during this conference.”
“We’re thankful that you’ve agreed to represent us.”
The Knights responded favorably. They weren’t paying mere lip service, either. Wellinger could feel their genuine gratitude.
‘I’m not surprised.’
If Knight Wellinger hadn't taken the lead in the opposition against the Master, other Knights would have had no choice but to sit still and watch as their authorities were taken from them.
Or, they would’ve tried to fight back as viciously as possible only to be crushed mercilessly.
‘That won’t do!’
Wellinger was well aware of what the Master was aiming for. And he had no thought of letting things head in the direction the Master envisioned.
Just as everyone finished sharing pleasantries...
Clank, clunk...!
The noise of plate armor clicking and clacking dug into Wellinger’s hearing. Naturally, everyone’s attention shifted in the direction of that noise.
Silhouettes of a handful of figures could be seen in the dim corridor. Wellinger furrowed his brow slightly after noticing the leader of this group entering the hall.
‘Knight Besley...?’
The man who should have been performing Wellinger’s role was now entering the hall of the Round Table.
Clank, clunk...!
Wellinger frowned even deeper after noticing Besley’s get-up. The latter was armed to the teeth!
“You’ve decided to join us, Knight Besley?”
Wellinger got up first and offered his greeting, but Besley only offered a cursory glance in return before heading to his seat without saying anything.
“How dare he!”
“What disrespect!”
Knights immediately expressed their outrage, but Knight Besley didn't seem to care. Not even one bit.
Wellinger sighed deeply. “Knight Besley?”
Besley silently glanced at Wellinger again.
“It’s been a struggle to get a hold of you, good sir. We’re here to discuss a grave matter concerning all the Knights. At the very least, offer us your...”
“Stop right there,” said Besley.
“...I beg your pardon?”
The corners of Besley's lips curled up strangely. “I have no desire to converse with any of you. You'll learn soon enough... Soon, you'll understand what you've done!”
The atmosphere in the hall rapidly cooled down from Besley’s unexpectedly cold, nay, icy rebuke.
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