I Became a Tin Knight

#264 Episode: The Tin Knight and the Frenzied Banquet (4)

Synchronizing in battle is tough work, let me tell you.

In a split second, you could end up slicing one of your own teammates with the sword you’re swinging around, trip over each other’s feet, or have your line of sight blocked by a comrade.

Thus, even if five ordinary folks gather with a total power of 1, they won’t be able to display a total power of 5. They just get in each other’s way!

To fix those shortcomings and draw out even more power, you need formations and tactics.

For a small noble family that struggles just to maintain a proper knight order, it’s common sense for more substantial families to practice at least one formation or tactic.

If the world were just a little different, the Lion Duke Bloodline, known by names like the “World’s Strongest Gate” and “Lenart Family,” wouldn’t be an exception either.

In fact, they were quite proficient in cooperative attacks, ranking among the best on the continent.

Despite some minor differences, they trained in the same martial arts, and their relentless competition and practice allowed them to predict each other’s moves with ease.

Just a simple exchange of glances was all it took for them to find the optimal position and synchronize their movements, making it look as graceful as a sword dance on stage.

In contrast, the Tin Knight and Adelheid’s movements were all over the place.

First of all, the armaments were different—a one-handed sword and shield versus a two-handed sword. The Tin Knight emphasized defense and counters, while Adelheid focused on evasion and critical hits.

“Ugh!”

But every time these two forces clashed, it was always the Lenart side that went down.

Their beautiful yet ferocious flurries of strikes couldn’t breach the Tin Knight’s ironclad defense, and on the flip side, every time Adelheid unleashed her fierce attacks, she crushed at least one member of the bloodline without fail.

[The ‘Tin Knight’ comments that a party with distinct role divisions is usually stronger!]

There was nothing surprising for the Tin Knight in that.

It was only natural that a party with a balanced mix of melee, ranged, and support would be stronger than some hodgepodge combo of all melee fighters.

Sure, within the Lion Duke Bloodline, there were variations like a swift blade, a fast blade, and a whirling blade, but those quirks were just minor discrepancies.

Moreover, Adel was no longer the Little Lion of yesteryear.

She no longer needed to be given orders for every action; she made her own judgments. Once the major threats were dealt with, she handled the smaller attacks on her own, and above all, each of her strikes was unbelievably powerful.

The Tin Knight understood better than anyone that his position was closer to that of a damage-dealer-tank hybrid, so he worked hard to raise a teammate who could unleash intense firepower.

Seeing the fruits of that effort manifest so clearly brought him a sense of satisfaction.

Sure, he still felt some regrets overall, but that was something they could refine over time.

For that reason, they needed to wrap up this situation decisively.

“It’s a fork in the road, huh?”

[The ‘Tin Knight’ appreciates that there are solid performers in this production!]

Two paths led deeper into the mansion.

And at the ends of each path, they sensed the presence of enemies looming.

It was an invitation and a provocation all at once.

If they were thinking purely about efficiency, it would be best for both to converge on one location and beat the opponent up, but humans can’t live solely on efficiency.

Especially not for those who want to move beyond their past.

Just as the Tin Knight was about to suggest that they split up, Adelheid spoke up first.

“I’ll take this one. I want to face that child fair and square.”

The Tin Knight observed the face of his apprentice hidden behind the mask, watching the eyes peeking through the gaps.

Then he gave her a thumbs up.

[The ‘Tin Knight’ transitions from the cooperative task to the next individual task!]

[The ‘Tin Knight’ urges her to show the results of her special training!]

“Yes!”

With a little bow, Adel sprinted down the right path.

The Tin Knight watched her retreating figure for a moment before he, too, moved down the left path.

At the end of the left path stood the old man they had met before.

Werner von Lenart.

The strongest among the Lion Duke Bloodline living in this era and perhaps the most powerful martial artist overall, his stature was imposing, reminiscent of a massive mountain.

Yet his face was anything but cheerful.

“Tch. I understand that thinking you can only fight on your preferred battlefield is a luxury, but still, it’s disappointing. To face a warrior worthy of respect on such a shabby stage.”

The implication of “shabby” was clear—it didn’t only refer to the location.

It was obvious that he didn’t intend to fight on the side of the radicals.

Were they being forced to fight as hostages? Or was their family about to be obliterated unless they complied? Or maybe they were bound by some contract or other?

The specifics were unknown.

There was a possibility he might share if asked, and there could be a way to get through without fighting via conversation, but that wasn’t a route the Tin Knight would choose.

Only his comrades were allowed to converse with him.

He knew nothing about having discussions with any other opponents; all he understood was battling.

[The ‘Tin Knight’ prefers the straightforward approach over negotiations!]

Well, even if dialogue had succeeded, the outcome probably wouldn’t have changed much anyway.

Bang! Bang!

The sound of sword clashing with shield echoed from the Tin Knight.

It seemed like there was no need to dwell on the details of the background as warriors faced off, and even Werner’s face, filled with concerns, relaxed just a bit.

“Alright then, I’ll accept the hospitality.”

A hefty-looking club landed in Werner’s right hand.

A faint golden magical power rippled around his body, enveloping the old man like leather.

As the ground beneath them began to sink, neither waited for the other to make the first move, exploding towards each other simultaneously.

Boom!

***

At that moment, on the opposite side.

“Did you come?”

Hilda von Lenart greeted Adel with an oddly friendly demeanor, as if casually checking in for a morning chat.

Though her expression remained as innocent as ever, the splatters of blood all over her clothes gave a feeling of ominousness rather than charm.

Adelheid contemplated whether she should attack without saying a word like her master would, but eventually decided against it and opened her mouth instead.

“You don’t look very broken up about this.”

“Hmm?”

“Do you still think there’s a chance of winning?”

When taking down a group, it’s not necessary to be stronger than the entire group.

As long as one can defeat or seize the leadership, it’s possible to control the members in its name.

Countless dictators throughout history have operated like that with almost brazen methods.

Conversely, from the moment the attempt to subdue the royal family fails, the radicals’ plan is essentially shot.

Soldiers misled by false information or poor commands will eventually turn away from the radicals once they learn the truth.

Some fanatical supporters might stick around until the end, but in that case, it would simply prolong their struggle until the inevitable conclusion.

“Well, you don’t know until you try, right? At least it seems like the old guys are still trying to pull something.”

“The more you struggle, the worse it gets.”

“And what then? As the enemy sneaks up with a rope to wrap around my neck, I should just stand there and wait to be strangled?”

“No.”

Adelheid shook her head.

“I’m not too clear on the grievances you have with the royal family, and honestly, I don’t care much. The sin I’m talking about is something else entirely.”

“What sin could that be?”

“The sin of dragging others into your fight and using them as pawns.”

Adelheid’s eyes pierced through Hilda directly.

“Offering up family as sacrifices to gain political advantage. When you’re too weak to stand on your own, you incite fear to forcibly draw in moderates. Don’t you find that appalling? If you’re going to do something crazy, you should at least keep it within your own ranks.”

“Aah, that?”

Hilda responded almost lazily.

“─Don’t come at us with your whining, it’s the other people who are bad.”

“……”

“It isn’t wrong at all; the Empress is bad simply because she’s stronger than us. The Duke is bad for not joining us and yammering about balance and cooperation while he has the duty to protect his family. The nobles, who received kindness from us all this while, are bad for scampering off as soon as the Empress whispers sweet nothings in their ear. The commoners, who have continued living safely because of us, are bad for mocking us the moment they feel a little shaken.”

“……”

“Your father’s incident was all orchestrated by the Duke, you know? If we avenged him, shouldn’t you be thanking us instead?”

“……”

“Are you listening?”

Adel pondered.

The girl named Adelheid von Lenart thought.

Ah, I’m so glad I had this conversation.

I’m really glad I didn’t just jump into a sword fight without words.

If I had done that, I wouldn’t have known this feeling.

If I had done that, I would have fought not out of desire, but out of a sense of obligation.

If I had done that—

Thud.

—Then I would have hesitated to take off this mask.

The mask that had covered Adelheid’s face fell to the ground.

And at that moment, a horrific aura began to emanate from Adel’s entire being.

The wooden furniture scattered around the mansion creaked ominously.

The bloodline members still holding onto consciousness instinctively recoiled from the room where Adel stood, filled with primal fear.

No, some were so overtaken by fear that they simply collapsed, frothing at the mouth.

And at a certain moment, that dense aura of malice concealed itself.

It didn’t disappear; it merely clarified its direction.

“Ha ha.”

Receiving the overwhelming malevolence directed at her, Hilda showed no sign of fear.

A smile lingered at the corners of her lips, and her purple eyes sparkled with excitement, as if awaiting an exhilarating event.

In fact, Hilda’s comment about how “the Duke had used Friedel” was not meant as a provocation against Adelheid.

It was simply what the council had genuinely taught her to believe.

In that sense, you could argue that she was also a victim being used.

But the fundamental issue was different.

Hilda was neither foolish nor dull.

She somehow figured out that the council was exploiting her and that they weren’t merely sharing facts.

After piecing that together, she brushed it off with a casual “Who cares?”

Ultimately, it was someone else’s problem. It wasn’t her concern. She liked the old men who coddled her.

Good was good, bad was bad, and she had no interest in anything that didn’t fall into either of those categories.

Fast forward to hundreds of years after the appointment had fallen.

The most prodigious rascal ever born into the Lenart family moved not by right or wrong but purely according to his whims.

In some ways, her beast-like mindset may have been the most fitting match for the title of Lion.

And guided by that primal instinct, Hilda made her judgment.

─Ah, if I don’t fight with everything I’ve got from the start, I might just die.

So, Hilda lifted her sword.

That weapon, larger than her usual one-handed sword, radiated an ominous aura.

And it made perfect sense.

This sword was the one the family head wielded to suppress and was the beloved weapon of the Lion Duke that the radicals had seized.

One of the finest weapons on the continent, it could easily stand toe-to-toe with Adelheid’s “Belt.”

The superiority of their equipment had vanished.

The difference in talent was the same.

What remained was simply.

What they had nurtured within their hearts and what they had built.

Two lions began to tear at each other.

---