Chapter 315: How Do You Lose Without Making It Look Like You're Throwing the Match?
The battle on the third floor, under the combined assault of the three knights, had finally come to an end.
But the first to collapse was not the Warden's massive body—it was the Candle Knight.
Viviana's hands trembled as she clutched her candlestick, before her strength finally gave out and she slumped to the ground. Though her spell had only bound the monster for a few seconds, to her it had felt like an eternity. Even pouring out every ounce of her power, that was the most she could manage.
And yet… she couldn't shake a strange thought. In that very last instant, the monster had seemed to stop resisting—almost as if it had given up. It had simply accepted Margaret's strike, allowing the lance of light to pierce its chest.
Of course, she could never voice such suspicions aloud. So all she did was lift her eyes, weak and dazed, toward her companions. There, the towering, headless corpse of the monster still stood upright. Its oppressive presence and suffocating aura had not faded in the slightest.
Everyone remained tense, half-expecting it to lurch forward like some headless titan and continue fighting.
But then Margaret's crystallized golden spear shattered into drifting motes of light, unable to hold its form any longer. At that moment, the Warden's towering body began to crack open from its core.
Brilliant golden light spilled from the fissures, spreading across its frame. With a thunderous rumble like a mountain collapsing, the monster finally disintegrated into a heap of fragments.
Only then did the two remaining knights allow themselves to exhale in relief.
Młynar fared better—barely. Using his longsword to keep himself upright, he was at least spared Viviana's complete collapse. Still, he couldn't ignore the sensation he'd felt when his blade took the Warden's head: the resistance of its flesh had seemed weaker, softer than before.
He dismissed it as nothing more than the aftereffects of Margaret's strike piercing its core. Whatever the case, a victory was still a victory.
Margaret, however, was in far worse condition. That final charge had wrung every last drop of strength from her body; even standing upright was beyond her. Her vision swam, and her knees gave way.
She would have fallen straight to the floor—if not for a strange force that rose up from beneath her feet, holding her weight aloft.
She blinked, bewildered, glancing at Viviana. But the Candle Knight, too, was being supported by the same unseen power, her own face marked with the same confusion.
"Congratulations," a calm voice spoke. "You've defeated the Warden and earned the right to challenge me."
Applause rang out as a knight stepped forth from the shadows, the same mysterious figure who had orchestrated all the chaos. He clapped leisurely as he approached, as though the sight of their exhaustion was a show for his amusement.
"You—!"
Every gaze fixed on him, burning with doubt and fury. They all knew this was the true culprit, the mastermind behind everything that had befallen the Grand Knight Territory. Defeat him, and the nightmare would end.
But Margaret found she could not even raise an arm.
Młynar alone still had some measure of strength left—but the moment he realized he couldn't read this man's movements at all, he gave up the thought of fighting.
After all, anyone who could control a beast like the Warden and post it here as a mere guard… how could such a foe be weaker than his minion?
If the gatekeeper was this overwhelming, then how absurdly strong must its master be?
"Don't rush," the knight said with a mocking smile. "Even if you wanted to, you couldn't fight me in this state. Coming at me like this would be far too reckless… and far too boring."
Steven raised his hand, stopping Margaret's reckless urge to fight on. Instead, he shook his head, wearing an expression that made it perfectly clear—he had no intention of striking when the enemy was already down.
Then, after a moment's thought, he snapped his fingers.
A cloud of faint pink mist spread outward, quickly enveloping everyone present.
Margaret wanted to resist, to dodge, but her body was still drained of all strength. She could only watch helplessly as the mist seeped into her skin—and then vanished.
And almost immediately, warmth surged through her body. Her limbs no longer felt like lead; the terrible weakness was gone. Her strength… was returning.
Her eyes widened. He's… healing me?
Her gaze snapped back to the strange knight before her, disbelief written all over her face. Just what was this man playing at?
Viviana, too, felt her vitality being restored. But unlike Margaret's stunned confusion, her eyes held a glint of understanding.
So, her guess was right.
From the very beginning, this man had never intended for them to fail.
Everything was part of his script.
But why? What was his goal? Surely it wasn't as shallow as simply wanting an "answer"… right?
Her suspicions were, in fact, right on the mark.
Steven had planned it all out long ago. Even their hard-won victory over the Warden had only been possible because he had secretly slipped in a blow, quietly dealing fatal damage to the beast.
Otherwise, it would never have been defeated so easily.
And Margaret had just happened to unleash a finishing move at the time he launched the secret attack. So why not cooperate? Time his strike right at the moment her spear pierced the Warden, let the world think she land the last strike, and everyone gets a happy ending.
Now, though, it was time to bring this performance to its finale.
Every "Demon King" has their destined day of defeat at the hands of the "Knight of Justice." And for Steven, this stage play was no exception.
As for the answer he had been seeking… he felt that he had already found it.
When he saw these knights, risking their lives to defend the Grand Knight Territory, setting aside old grudges, standing shoulder-to-shoulder in battle—it had already given him his answer to the question of what it meant to be a knight.
So even if Margaret could not put it into words, he would not press her. She had already proven herself more than enough.
And now, as a reward for everything she had done, Steven was willing to lend her his strength—to let her be the one who struck down the Demon King.
All of this was being broadcast live across the Grand Knight Territory. From the common knights on the first floor who had thrown themselves forward in selfless charges, to the Silverlance Pegasi still locked in blood-soaked combat on the second floor—their struggles were being projected into every corner of the nation.
And in the hearts of the people, a seed of realization was taking root. They, too, were beginning to understand what it meant to be a knight.
Now, at last, the knights who had braved countless ordeals stood before the Demon King himself. Margaret, and the citizens watching through the drones alike, felt their hearts pound with anticipation.
The fate of the Grand Knight Territory would be decided in this final battle.
But perhaps only Steven knew the truth. That the outcome had already been written from the very beginning.
The only question left was—how could he lose this fight in a way that didn't look exactly like he was throwing the match?
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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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