SSS-Knight in a Hero World-Chapter 89: It’s an elf!

Knight Order:

Viking.

Mountain training area.

The harsh blizzard rushed through the valleys like a chaotic wave.

But even such a destructive force of nature couldn't help but change directions as waves of essence clashed with its momentum.

Atop a flattened mountain range, two shadowy figures under the white storm engaged in mortal combat.

The clashes of their swords alone melted the surrounding blizzard, creating a mist-like effect around them, then quickly changing back as more of the blizzard continued to cover the battlefield.

And if they weren't directly clashing with each other, they would send out countless waves of essence blades, to the point that it overwhelmed the environment around them, creating a light show that reflected and refracted the crescents of light.

Then... it stopped.

"You're really taking advantage of this blizzard, coward!" Yaromech screamed at the howling storm.

Not wanting to wait for his opponent to attack, Yaromech charged his sword essence, extending it to such a degree that it almost covered the entire arena.

With a single spinning sweep, he completely blasted away the blizzard, allowing the sun to light up the snow-covered area.

Yaromech looked around but saw no signs of his opponent, then suddenly...

A shadow from the sky passed over him, and Yaromech instinctively raised his sword.

Then, a shard of light slammed against his blade before ricocheting into the ground.

"His rapier?" Yaromech shifted his eyes to the embedded sword, then quickly back to the sky.

It all happened in a flash, and Yaromech's body couldn't move fast enough. The outcome was already clear.

Yaromech could feel the daggers nearing his neck.

It was Alaric's hand in a claw gesture, just shy of choking their prey's neck.

Then, after a while of staring at each other in silence, Yaromech sat back down, admitting total defeat.

Alaric settled his killing aura and extended his open hand. "Just like your two-dimensional brain, you fight in a two-dimensional manner.

You did not anticipate that I'd attack from above."

"Maybe I've been out of it lately," Yaromech scoffed, accepting his comrade's help to stand back up.

But Yaromech had more to say. "I sensed your presence before you began your attack.

You may be fast enough to negate that flaw, but being detected is unacceptable."

Alaric slightly opened his mouth in shock and scoffed a foggy breath. He, too, had a lot more to critique.

But before he could say anything, a beam of light erupted in the distance. There was a tiny gray speck nested on top of the tallest peak of the mountain range.

"Atreus?" Yaromech blurted out with a concerned look, then he looked at Alaric, who had a somewhat uneasy expression.

The two looked at each other.

"Call the senior staff for a meeting," Yaromech ordered.

"Okay."

***

Citadel of the Knightly Order, Viking.

Yaromech hastily changed his training clothes into his more usual indoor outfit.

Unlike the other knightly orders, which had hundreds to thousands of members, the Viking Order of Knights barely reached a hundred.

This was because of their nature as a heavy strike group meant to penetrate hordes of the serpent's vile spawn, perform surgical strikes on key locations, and even carry out assassinations.

Their nature was also the reason they had access to their own teleportation device despite their small size, as it allowed them great reach despite the isolated nature of their citadel.

But these low numbers and isolated environment led to a lack of formality expected of a knightly order.

One could even call it a very large family of the most deadly individuals.

As Yaromech walked through the vast corridors and wooden arches, he finally stumbled upon the main conference room.

A curved, long oak table stretched to accommodate a total of twenty-one seats, including the head chair.

Despite being open to the environment, it was thanks to the citadel's height that the blizzard and its snow never touched the room.

"Is everyone here?" Yaromech asked Alaric, who was standing at attention near the doorway.

"The lead squad commander, squad master, and the quartermaster are here."

Yaromech nodded in approval. "I'm sorry for taking your valuable time, Tyr."

Placing himself at the head seat, Yaromech looked to the right and bowed slightly to a very tired-looking woman wearing a suffocating amount of winter clothing.

"I just finished shedding my scales, you brat...

Everything's so sensitive now."

Tyr softly caressed the patches of scales behind her ears, looking in absolute discomfort with each stroke.

Such was the burden of draconoids. Great power came with many racial burdens, like shedding or puberty, even though true dragons didn't experience such trivial things.

But it did come with a long life of peerless beauty. For Tyr, it came with long waves of azure hair and horns that were pleasing to the eye and not a disturbance during sleep... aside from her tail.

"Is this about your brat again?" Tyr asked, even though she already knew the answer.

"Yes. We're just going to wait for Atreus' report, since she has severe teleportation sickness.

So, for the meantime—"

Slam!

"There is no meantime. If that brat Felix doesn't come back before his 'vacation leave' ends, it's by knight's law that we revoke all his privileges and strip him of everything—"

"Dame Tyr."

Yaromech gazed at the draconoid's eyes with incredible essence, and Tyr knew exactly what those eyes would do to her if she pushed him the wrong way.

"Requests and suggestions like that go through me before they reach the knightly council."

Tyr sharpened her eyes and scoffed. "That's abusing your position as the lead of our order. If the council hears of this...

Then you'll be court-martialed, again."

. . .

The air tensed around the two as the essence of their gazes slowly tried to dominate the other into submission.

Alaric sighed beside Yaromech. "I hate to say this, but seeing either of you take your job seriously is so disturbing, so please...

Go back to your whimsical selves."

. . .

Tyr grinded her teeth and leaned back in her chair. "Just had to make sure our leader isn't too whimsical. He gets a pass this time."

Yaromech also backed off, but he wasn't in any happier condition, a plague of thought still clear deep within his ocean eyes. "Maybe it was a mistake to send Atreus to check up on Felix. I should've confronted him myself."

"You said that before," Tyr remarked, "and I'll say my answer again.

It has to be Felix that has to come back to us."

"And if he doesn't?"

Tyr looked down as if her answer pained her. "Then you'll really have to discharge that boy. If he can't emotionally handle his squad dying, then he won't be able to lead properly as a knight.

It's for his own sake. You know that as much as I do."

The draconoid stood up, her height dwarfing both Yaromech and Alaric, and yet, out of all of them, she had the softest gaze.

She stretched her tail slowly, letting out all the tension caused by the uncomfortable, small, anti-tail seat design, then sat on the much more comfortable oak table.

"Since we're so understaffed, I have three senior ranks. Being the lead squad commander allows me to see all the goings-on of our squads out in the field. I know what each squad master and their members feel about even a single death of their comrades.

And as a squad master myself, I know what it feels like to have my comrades, my friends... die in my hands, die because of my mistakes." Tyr looked at her hands as if she was remembering something important.

"I'll have to admit, though, I can understand why that boy is so distant now.

Just having your entire squad die in one night and not being there... it must be so frustrating to think about. I myself would ravage an entire city if it meant the killer was amongst the innocent lives."

"Tyr..."

Yaromech remained quiet, Alaric even quieter.

"If you drag that boy back here with his wounds still not healed, it would be a terrible mistake... As experiencing another turmoil like that...

Would rip apart an even bigger wound..."

Slam!

The trio shook as the entrance door suddenly slammed open.

A tiny lady appeared, her height contradicting her presumed strength, almost shaking the citadel just by opening a door.

"Fuwah! Darn that serpent, and fucking teleporters!

Why is our citadel in the middle of bum fuck nowhere in the first place?!"

"...the creed," Alaric whispered under his breath.

Yaromech shot straight up in his seat, and so did Tyr.

"Just get straight to the point," Yaromech said, "and watch your mouth too."

"Oh, I forgot again..." Atreus covered her mouth as she made her way to the table, standing on it as well.

"Can't I curse just a bit though? It's just that this creed is being followed by everyone, and I feel pressured into doing it too—

"Atreus..." Yaromech said, extending the s sound.

"Oh right. So, I managed to track down Felix, because it was a no-brainer that I could find him in the city of burials.

I kept a watchful eye on him for a few days during the procession, but then he met an elf!"

Almost immediately, the three leaned in with concerned looks. Concerned for Felix's safety.

But Atreus cleared it up quickly. "Oh, don't worry about it. The elf wasn't an assassin."

The three collectively leaned back.

"It was a pretty lady!"

The three collectively leaned in.

"Too close, move away!" she retorted.

The three collectively leaned back.

"So who was this... elf?" Yaromech asked.

"I dunno, but she's definitely not a civilian. I was too scared to get close enough to hear them, but I knew for a fact they were talking, because they kept going on and on till it was almost noon or evening, damnit."

"Wait a minute," Alaric intervened. "Could this elf be some sort of... escort?"

"That... kind of escort?"

Alaric nodded. "Indeed. As the city of burials harbors the location of one of the biggest grave areas, it attracts many gloomy people.

Some certain businesses take advantage of such depression, making a profit out of anyone's tears.

But since Felix and that elf are just talking, as you said, could it be that Felix simply wanted company, or something more...

Perhaps, as we're talking right now, Felix has completely let his desires take control of him."

"Damn..." Yaromech exhaled a deep breath. "But why an elf?"

"It could be his way of curing his wound," Tyr began to explain. "Dominating the race that wronged you, even through sexual means, is... a... way?"

Even Tyr wasn't sure of what she was saying.

"That's honestly ridiculous..." Alaric mumbled.

Yaromech shook his head. "Well, if it's a way, then so be it—"

"Ridiculous!" Alaric said, flapping his arms around in disbelief.

"You guys are weird..." Atreus shamelessly pointed out. "It's not like that at all."

The three calmed down and listened.

"I followed them through the city, and they had tea together!

I've never seen Felix so happy before, even before this!

Then I got curious enough to move in a bit closer to hear what they had to say.

And honestly, when I heard their conversation, I started cringing, because it felt so... wrong!" she said, blushing a little.

The three continued listening.

"And then I slipped there. I almost got caught by them.

After that, I went back here."

Atreus finished her report, or story, then said her goodbye early because of the dizziness building up inside her.

The conference room remained frozen for a good minute as the three carefully gathered their thoughts and ideas.

"That's... good, right?" Yaromech said.

"I think so too," Tyr confirmed.

Alaric gave a resounding nod in agreement.

Yaromech breathed a sigh of relief. "...then all we have to do is sit tight and wait for Felix to come home."