Chapter 314: Do What You Must Do
Many times, Margaret had asked herself—why had she chosen the path of the knight?
Perhaps it was because her grandfather was once the most renowned of the Silverlance Pegasi, a knight of House Nearl? Or maybe it was because she had once admired the champions of the Kazimierz Major?
Those reasons… were far in the past. So far, in fact, that Margaret could barely remember her original intentions anymore.
But even as her first motivations faded, a new answer had revealed itself—clearer, sharper than ever before.
"To be a knight is to be the noble light that illuminates the land."
That was the phrase Margaret loved most. It was also the creed she had followed, without compromise, ever since.
She did not seek to shine brighter than all others. No—she only wished to be a small ray of light upon this cruel earth. Enough to illuminate the road ahead, to show others that the path existed.
It was for that reason she had stepped into the Kazimierz Major, even though they reeked of coin and corruption. She had believed that if she could win—if she could prove herself—then she could hand this answer back to the people of Kazimierz. That somewhere out there, others would follow her example, and choose to become light as well.
A spark can ignite a prairie fire.
Sometimes, someone must step forward first. Someone must wake the people from their dreams.
So when her grandfather cast her out, when her uncle Młynar scolded her and claimed she was shaming the honor of House Nearl, Margaret had never understood.
But today… as she watched her uncle raise his blade and stand firm before the Warden—she finally realized.
Her uncle was not the man she had thought he was. He was not one who had abandoned honor, nor one who had given in to complacency.
The brilliance that radiated from him was proof enough. No one without resolve could wield such light. And the sword energy that had torn through the monster's assault—proof that Młynar had never once neglected his training.
Now, with Młynar holding the line against the monstrous guardian, Margaret had the chance to escape. She could have dashed to the nearby staircase, climbed to the next floor.
But she stopped.
The Warden was not like the mindless iron golems below. For the Silverlance Pegasi, the second floor combatant, the iron golems, were merely a matter of time. But for her uncle, defeating the third floor combatant was also only a matter of time—except in reverse.
Młynar's arts were not infinite. The strain already showed on his face.
If she left him here, with only Viviana beside him, what fate awaited them? Margaret dared not imagine it.
"Why are you hesitating?"
Młynar's voice cut through her thoughts. He did not look back, but his words were directed to her.
"If you still want to do what you've set out to do, then go. Don't waste time here. As your kin, I won't say I supported you before, nor will I say I do now. But if it's what you want—then I've no reason to stop you."
Still as blunt as ever. Still as proud. He wasn't asking for help. He was pushing her onward, as though saying: leave this to me.
Margaret clenched her fists. Then her eyes hardened with resolve.
"Do what I want to do, huh? …I think I finally understand."
There was no point in holding back anymore. The Warden had already been provoked beyond reason.
She turned sharply.
"Miss Viviana," she called, "please lend me your strength. No matter what it takes—help me restrain it, even just for a moment!"
The woman who had been weaving her candlelight and shadows to ease Młynar's burden blinked in surprise, then looked at Margaret.
What she saw in her face was not hesitation, but unshakable determination.
Viviana did not fully understand what Margaret intended. But still—she nodded.
Her arts were nearly useless against a monster like this. She knew it. Her shadows could barely scratch its hide. Such beasts were never meant to be brought down by sorcery like hers.
And yet—if it was to buy even a few seconds for Margaret—then she would give all she had.
Młynar, faced with his stubborn niece who never listened to his advice, truly had no idea what she intended this time. But with the situation worsening by the second, he had no choice but to let her follow her will.
He swung his longsword—its blade wrapped in Originium-fueled arts—and barely managed to deflect the crushing blow of the Warden before him. The steel shuddered violently in his hands, the tremors running down to his very bones. Without the shield of his arts, that single strike would have reduced him to the same fate as the Blood Knight lying broken nearby.
Even so, his position was grim. Compared to Margaret, who was only able to dodge and survive by a hair's breadth, Młynar could still muster the strength to launch the occasional counter. He even had the skill to meet those sudden, formless shockwaves with bursts of sword energy.
But the results were disheartening. Whether it was his slashes or his blade's energy, all they left behind on the monster were shallow scratches—mere insults that only drove the beast into further frenzy.
Its defense was monstrous. No, more than that—it was unnatural, as if this creature had no place existing in this world.
Time passed, and the burden of channeling Originium arts weighed heavily on him. His movements grew sluggish, his parries slower, his evasions narrower.
The Warden, however, showed no sign of exhaustion. If anything, the wounds inflicted on it only sent it into greater rage.
Margaret had been right: if she had chosen to leave and head for the fourth floor, Młynar's defeat would have been inevitable.
But she had not. Instead, she had chosen the harder path—the impossible one.
To defeat the monster here and now.
Viviana raised her candlestick high. Candlelight flared, stretching the shadows of all present into long, grotesque shapes that reached toward the Warden. The shadows warped, converged, and then fixed themselves to the ground like black anchors.
Time seemed to still. The Warden, once a storm of violence, was pinned in place, frozen as though its own shadow had betrayed it. Its bulging frame strained, but no matter how it roared, it could not move a single step.
But the spell's cost was immense. Beads of sweat streamed down Viviana's face, her hand trembling as she gripped the candlestick, struggling to maintain control. Even a single second was agony. The monster's sheer force tore at her sorcery, threatening to shatter it apart.
Yet even a single second… was enough.
Margaret, who had stepped back earlier, now closed her eyes. When she opened them again, wings of radiant light unfurled faintly from her back, as though an angel had descended into the chamber.
She pushed her Originium Arts to the absolute limit. A golden brilliance gathered before her, coalescing into the form of a spear that shone like crystallized dawn.
With the spirit of a knight's charge burning within her, Margaret became a streak of golden light. She hurled herself straight into the immobilized Warden, spear aimed unerringly at its chest.
The golden radiance swallowed the blind monster whole. Her spear pierced its body, and from the wound erupted a blinding light that spread through its flesh, consuming it from within before fading into nothingness.
At that very instant, Młynar seized the opening. His longsword ignited with its own radiance as he stepped in, blade sweeping down in a single, decisive stroke.
The Warden's towering body shuddered—and its head fell cleanly from its shoulders.
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Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
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