Chapter 302: The Death Knight's Repose

"Stay away from me!"

Facing the reinforcements that had suddenly dropped from the sky, Jilannis showed no sign of happiness. Her figure darted back and forth around the Death Knight like a butterfly. Blades of condensed Arcane Magic cut through the swirling black mist surrounding the Death Knight, leaving marks upon its armor.

At first, Jilannis had tried to cripple the Death Knight to restrict its movements. But after her attempts proved fruitless, she shifted her strategy to focus on harassing and pinning it down, trying to buy as much time and minimize losses as possible.

But to the Elf Grand Mage's surprise, the Death Knight's movements had clearly become sluggish with the arrival of Ron and his reinforcements. 'Could it be the golden dragon's aura?'

'No, that can't be it. This Death Knight's power might even surpass that of an adult golden dragon. A being that cannot be easily killed has no reason to fear a True Dragon.'

'As for that Elder Mage?' Jilannis's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. 'A rather unremarkable human. It'll be a blessing if he just stays out of the way.'

'Could it be that woman?'

The Elf's gaze fell upon Farama. As this woman, who gave her a very unsettling feeling, drew closer, Jilannis could clearly sense that the Death Knight was actually recoiling!

Jilannis was not the only one to sense this change in the Death Knight. Nearly everyone present with combat experience noticed the powerful Undead Creature's sudden shift.

"Ha, our reinforcements are here!" Seeing Ron descend from the sky on his golden dragon, Sera's eyes lit up with joy. "Time to launch the counterattack!"

"Not so fast," Aive said, holding back her reckless barbarian companion. "Didn't you see our 'Administrative Consultant'? She's walking up there all by herself! The Death Knight was guarding her seal to begin with. Ron isn't stopping her either, so I think there must be some connection."

"What kind of connection could there be? I bet she just wants revenge for herself..." Sera wrinkled her nose but still held back her charge.

By now, New Green Swamp Town had been reduced to ruins. The horde of Undead Creatures had been completely wiped out by the group, leaving only the unhorsed Death Knight locked in a fierce battle with Jilannis. But as Farama slowly walked toward the towering Warrior, the two combatants, whose fight seemed destined to be a long and inconclusive one, both inexplicably stopped, waiting for the unarmed queen to approach.

From beneath the Death Knight's heavy faceplate came a sound other than a battle cry for the first time. It was as if its mouth was full of phlegm, making the sound so muffled and indistinct that it almost sounded like a whimper.

In Farama's eyes, it certainly had a reason to whimper, especially now that she had arrived.

When she was only three to five steps away from the Death Knight—a distance from which it could have easily launched a ferocious attack—it did not. With a clang of armor, the Knight slowly lowered its sword and shield, bowed its head, and knelt on one knee before Farama in a gesture of salute.

"It really is you, Charlie." Farama's voice was laced with simmering anger, her reproachful gaze fixed on the two pinpricks of red light on the Knight's faceplate, now so faint they were barely visible. "To think you're still alive. Like this."

The Death Knight spoke in a language no one but Farama could understand. He was explaining his past, using the language of his homeland, in the land where it was once spoken.

"To protect me? How disgraceful, Sir Charlie," Farama said, listening quietly before finally letting out a cold laugh. "Was this your way of serving me loyally? To turn on me when you knew all was lost, and then to stand guard over my tomb? What remarkable loyalty!"

Farama switched from the Common Language, her words now a rapid-fire torrent in the dialect of the Farama Kingdom. Although Ron and the others couldn't understand a word she was saying, judging by the state of the two, it was obvious that this reprimand from a superior of centuries past was not a light one.

"Tell me, Charlie, what about those bastards under your command? Did they end up like you, turned into these walking cans of armor after betraying me?"

The tirade lasted for nearly half an hour. Eventually, Farama, her throat dry from speaking, seemed to grow tired. Having vented nearly all her pent-up emotions, she tilted her head slightly, awaiting the Death Knight's reply.

To her surprise, her former Knight-Commander made a gesture for cutting the weeds and digging up the roots.

"You killed them all? Because they wanted to desecrate my—" Farama choked on the Death Knight's explanation, rolling her eyes. "Those ungrateful, untamable wolf pups!"

The furious queen eventually calmed down. "Compared to them, you are indeed the better one... Alright, Charlie. Although I still hold your intelligence in contempt, I understand your position and your predicament. It's no excuse for choosing between your bewitching lover and your loyal sovereign, only to end up betraying them both. But look at you now. You once wanted to have it all, and in the end, you got the one thing you never wanted, in the one way you never wanted it."

"You fell into depravity for your part in my murder, only to be killed by your lover and granted eternal life as a restless Undead."

"But all these years as a jailer seem to have made you see things clearly," Farama said, walking up to the Death Knight. She looked levelly at her former subject, who was as tall as she was even while kneeling. "Take off your helmet. Let me see what time has done to the Knight I once trusted most."

As the Death Knight raised its hands to remove its helmet, everyone, including Ron, craned their necks to get a look. However, a golden dragon wing blocked their view. "A Death Knight's gaze is no blessing. It is best that no one sees it, save for the one who can grant it salvation."

In the end, Ron didn't get a chance to see the Death Knight's true face—or rather, its remains. All he could hear was Farama's long, weary sigh.

"Put it back on."

The last queen of Farama raised her hand, signaling for the colossal Knight to rise. "Charlie, I won't say that I forgive you. The agony of being torn to pieces yet unable to die is far more than your atonement can make up for. My kingdom was erased from history, my subjects turned their backs on me, my body and soul had to be offered to the inferno, and the plots against me haven't stopped even to this day... You were one of the instigators of all these consequences. Your sins will be remembered forever."

"But—and I must say but," the queen said, stretching her limbs and twisting her neck, "look at me now. I'm alive, my body is whole and intact, and I will continue to live. I will live forever, free from the shackles of being a queen, living for other goals. In terms of results, you've achieved one of the two outcomes you wanted, haven't you?"

"Don't say 'but'," Farama interrupted the Death Knight's whimpering. "I am standing here, alive, while your betrayal has reduced you to this state. You have already received your due punishment, and your duty is almost complete. You should understand, Sir Charlie, that if you want to completely atone for your sins and receive my forgiveness, there is only one last thing you must do—"

Farama turned her back on him. From the perspective of Ron and the others, the Death Knight suddenly raised its greatsword and plunged it fiercely into its own chest.

Black ash rose on the wind behind the woman who was no longer a queen, and with it, all sin scattered into the breeze. The soul of the Knight who had wandered for centuries beneath his former sovereign's monument in the Delusional Land finally found eternal rest. Where the Death Knight had vanished, only a set of infernal tack remained, silently waiting for its next master to pick it up and fit it to a new nightmare.