Chapter 160: A Standoff Between the Royal Knights
Clad in gleaming red and white holy armor, a solitary figure descended upon the wasteland. He held the sacred lance Gram in one hand and the holy shield Aegis in the other. A crimson cape fluttered wildly in the evening breeze, snapping against the wind, yet it did nothing to diminish the burning, unyielding will radiating from his very core.
This was a Royal Knight whose legend stood absolutely equal to the warrior standing before him. This was Gallantmon.
"Omnimon, my dear friend."
The crimson knight spoke, his voice carrying an invincible weight and an unfathomable depth that echoed across the scarred battlefield.
"I can feel the hesitation in your heart. Stop this now."
Omnimon did not lower his weapons. His glowing blue optics remained locked onto the new arrival. "No. I am not hesitant. Now please step aside. I must expel the anomalies from the other world."
The majestic, unfathomable aura surrounding Gallantmon almost shattered like fragile glass.
Beneath his helmet, the crimson knight mentally cleared his throat, desperately forcing his composed, enigmatic persona back into place. He could not let his imposing image crumble so easily in front of a colleague.
"Very well, my dear friend," Gallantmon said, spreading his arms wide in a gesture of grand questioning. "Look closely. Does an enemy that truly needs to be expelled really exist before you?"
"Yes," Omnimon answered immediately.
Gallantmon froze. '...''Do you know how to hold a conversation? Do you know how to read the mood? Read the room, damn it, read the room!'
If they were not standing in the middle of a highly volatile battlefield, Gallantmon would have marched right up and rapped his knuckles hard against Omnimon's helmet. His fellow knight was exceptional in every conceivable regard, save for being entirely too rigid and blindly loyal to a fault.
A heavy sigh echoed through Gallantmon's mind. He let the frustration wash away. There was no point dwelling on his comrade's lack of tact now.
"My dear friend," Gallantmon began again, his tone dropping its theatrical edge and settling into a solemn gravity. "Although our past friendship brings me great joy, I can no longer stand by and watch you make mistake after mistake."
He raised Gram. The tip of the holy lance carved a glowing, crimson arc through the evening air, drawing a burning line into the scorched earth between them.
"If you have truly hardened your resolve, then cross this line. When you do, it will be a duel between us."
"Gallantmon... do you truly understand what you are doing?"
Omnimon narrowed his eyes. The ambient light of the setting sun caught the polished, deadly edge of the Grey Sword extending from his left arm, flashing with a cold, absolute judgment.
"I can understand your resistance to the slaughter," Omnimon continued, his voice measured and heavy with duty. "I will not pursue your failure to execute your previous orders. However, when it comes to these visitors from another world, I will not compromise under any circumstances. They are an evil that must be purged."
"Evil?" Gallantmon let out a soft, almost mocking scoff. "I am curious. Exactly how did you reach such a conclusion?"
He planted the base of his lance into the ground. "From the very moment they arrived in this world, I have been observing them from the shadows. I can tell you this with absolute certainty: if their actions can be labeled as evil, then there is no longer a single trace of good left in this world."
Omnimon stared at the crimson knight, genuine incomprehension radiating from his stoic posture.
Even when facing the direct, absolute orders of King Drasil, Gallantmon had shown hesitation and reluctance to rebel. He had struggled with his duty. Yet now, for the sake of two mere anomalies from another world, the crimson knight was baring his fangs, displaying the sharp, uncompromising determination of his prime.
Why?
"Gallantmon, you should know the truth," Omnimon pressed, unwilling to cross blades with his closest comrade if it could be avoided.
He would fight Gallantmon to the death over the internal affairs of the Digital World, but a human? Surely there was room for reason.
"That anomaly... is a human."
Omnimon hoped Gallantmon was merely acting on a fleeting impulse, a temporary lapse in judgment. The response he received shattered that hope entirely.
"A human. Yes... of course I know."
"Then why are you still—"
"It is precisely because I know he is human that I must stand before you!"
Gallantmon's voice boomed like thunder across the wasteland, cutting Omnimon off completely. He leveled the tip of Gram directly at his friend's chest.
As he held his ground, memories of a distant past drifted through his mind.
Gallantmon knew exactly why Omnimon harbored such deep, uncompromising hostility toward humans. The moment this human boy had crossed the dimensional boundary into their reality, King Drasil had issued a strict, absolute warning to all the Royal Knights.
But Gallantmon's perspective was entirely different.
Long ago, in a distant, almost forgotten era, he had stood by King Drasil's side, gazing across the dimensional boundary into the Human World.
He knew humans were far from perfect. They were fragile, deeply flawed, and capable of terrible things. Yet, despite all of that, they possessed a brilliant, guiding light. In the deepest, most suffocating darkness, humans could bloom with a radiance that outshone the stars themselves.
Back then, the Digital World had not yet fallen into its current state of despair. King Drasil had recognized that the infinite potential of humans—their unique ability to constantly forge miracles—could be harnessed to save their dying world.
But ultimately, King Drasil had refused.
Even after countless cycles, Gallantmon still remembered the gentle sorrow in his god's voice.
"Indeed, we could use the power of humans," King Drasil had murmured. "However, doing so would inevitably cause unimaginable devastation to the Human World. After all, compared to Digimon, humans are far too fragile... even if they possess a potential that we do not."
With those parting words, King Drasil had completely severed the connection between the two worlds. For years, their god had searched tirelessly for a solution to the Digital World's catastrophic data overload.
But no solution was ever found.
The grip on the holy lance tightened. The metal of his gauntlet groaned under the pressure.
King Drasil...
After his period of silent observation, Gallantmon had confirmed it. This human boy possessed that very same power to create miracles.
If that power could be nurtured, if it could be guided, then surely King Drasil could return to the gentle, compassionate ruler of the past. Perhaps this broken world could finally return to its original, beautiful state.
Therefore.
Therefore!
No matter the cost, he had to protect this hard-won, fragile hope! Even if the price was a heartbreaking, bloody duel to the death with his dearest friend, he would not take a single step back.
The aura surrounding Gallantmon solidified. It erupted into a towering, raging wildfire of digital energy, reflecting the absolute, unyielding determination burning within his visor.
"So, it is time to make a decision. My dear friend."
Omnimon remained silent. "..."
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