WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator: Ryuu

Editor: Ilafy

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ I Pulled Out Excalibur

Chapter 159

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Clown or Knight? (2)

The star that mocks knights, the Star of Scorn, Carnival Knight Quixote.

That knight, who didn’t just seek power through a contract with a demon but truly swore loyalty to the demon, was given a name by the world: Clown—a clown who dances for the devil.

As a word that contrasted with "knight," it was used to mock Quixote, but Quixote himself liked the derogatory term. He saw himself as a clown who danced ridiculously for the sake of one woman. To him, ‘clown’ wasn’t an insult but a compliment.

‘Laugh. Dance. Sing.’

‘For her.’

‘For my one and only master.’

The clown knight dyed his armor in vibrant colors of yellow, green, red, blue… The armor, reminiscent of a child’s scribbles, was garish and absurdly ridiculous, but it wasn’t just the armor that was ridiculous.

Peacock feathers adorned his helmet, a military flag patched together with rags hung over his shoulders, and a mount resembling a donkey, mask split in half, rested below him.

Every element of Quixote was absurd. Was he a clown imitating a knight or a knight imitating a clown? It was impossible to tell, but Quixote used everything about himself to mock the very concept of knighthood.

“Charge forward, Rocinante!” With exaggerated gestures, he spurred mount.

The beast, resembling a donkey but twice the size of a horse, galloped forward. It was astonishingly fast. In the blink of an eye, Quixote closed the distance of dozens of meters and charged forward.

Mounted on the donkey, he thrust his lance. Despite the exaggerated and ridiculous movements, the power of his lance charge far exceeded Najin’s imagination.

Kwaaaaaaaang!

The moment the lance struck Helmet Knight, a shockwave erupted, the air exploded, and the ground split apart. 

Helmet Knight was sent flying into the air, and even Najin, who wasn’t directly hit by the lance, was thrown to the ground by the shockwave.

The result was as if a bomb had gone off, not a lance strike. 

A high-pitched ringing filled Najin’s ears; blood trickled from them—his eardrums had burst. He barely lifted his head and saw Quixote looking down at him.

“Oh, Sancho! Sancho, why are you here?” With an unnervingly friendly smile, he reached out his hand to Najin. “Let’s go, Sancho. Don’t you see the monster over there? There’s a giant. A giant! A knight must fight giants and sing for his lady. Sing with me.”

Najin immediately drew his Sword Aura and swung his sword to deflect Quixote’s hand, but Quixote effortlessly parried the sword as if he were swatting away a child’s wrist.

“Come on.” Just as Quixote’s hand was about to grab Najin…

“Get lost, you filthy clown.” A fierce Sword Aura surged from afar, splitting the ground as it struck Quixote’s body. 

Helmet Knight, having been pushed back, walked toward Quixote with his sword raised. “That boy is my squire. Didn’t you kill your squire, Sancho, with your own hands? What, do you regret it now?”

“What are you talking about? Sancho is right here.” Quixote lovingly caressed his Star Lance, forged from the stars of a constellation, as he curled his lips into a smile. Once, Sancho was the name of a squire who served him. To him, Sancho was no longer a squire but a representation.

A young star that had not yet lost its purity…

Raising the lance forged from Sancho’s star, Quixote gave a mad, roaring, mocking laugh. A clown who could only express his emotions through laughter laughed as if the world were ending.

“My lady wants you,” he said. “My master wants you.” Pointing his lance at Helmet Knight, the clown sneered. 

Helmet Knight answered with silence. The sound he wanted to hear wasn’t the clown’s sneer.

Thud.

He stood beside Najin.

“Najin.”

There was no response.

He looked at Najin. 

Najin stood with his sword raised, his eyes wide open, his shoulders and arms tense with excessive force and the veins in his eyes bulging. 

He seemed so tense that he couldn’t hear anything around himself.

Helmet Knight tapped Najin’s head. “Relax. If you swing with too much force, you won’t be able to cut anything.”

“…” Najin turned to look at Helmet Knight. Though he couldn’t see the knight’s eyes through the helmet, he could feel his gaze. He could even sense the meaning behind that gaze.

“Don’t do it.”

“Th—”

“I said don’t do it.” Najin cut off the knight’s words.

“Twice is enough. Do you understand? Twice is enough.”

Helmet Knight knew what that “twice” referred to. He had heard Najin’s story about Ivan and knew how Najin’s first mentor had met his end and what his final moments were like.

The situation overlapped with that past.

“So…” Najin spat out. “Instead of talking nonsense about using your third request, just get ready to fight.”

“What are you talking about? I wasn’t planning to use it yet.”

“…Huh?”

“Three times. I’ll block him three times. In that time, aim for his left side. Strike from his blind spot. That’s the only way to create an opening.”

Just as he finished speaking, Quixote charged again. It was less of a charge and more like teleportation. In the blink of an eye, he was right in front of them.

“If you understand, then move. Quickly.”

Najin leaped to the side. 

Helmet Knight blocked Quixote’s lance as it came within inches of his face. The joints in his body creaked, but he held on.

First strike, second strike…

With each strike of Quixote’s lance, shockwaves erupted, tearing apart the ground and shattering Helmet Knight’s armor. 

Meanwhile, Najin slipped to Quixote’s side. The Sword Aura gathered on his blade shone brightly.

Third strike…

Helmet Knight didn’t block the third strike with his sword; he caught it with his hand. The gauntlet shattered into pieces from the shockwave, his fingers broke, and flesh was torn away. Using one arm as the price of blocking the lance, Helmet Knight reached out with his other hand.

Helmet Knight grabbed Najin by the back of his neck and lifted him; then slammed his foot into the ground. With a swing of his arm, he threw the boy toward their original destination: the place where Helmet Knight had defeated the Carnival King and taken her sacred ground.

It was a forbidden zone for the Carnival King.

Any stars related to the Carnival King would rapidly erode just by stepping into that forbidden zone; the same applied to Quixote. 

If Najin could escape there, Quixote wouldn’t be able to follow. Helmet Knight knew that.

‘It’s impossible for both of us to escape.’

So, who should be saved? The answer to that question was easy, too easy. 

Throwing Najin toward the forbidden zone, Helmet Knight smiled. “Go ahead.”

He was sent flying in the opposite direction by the shockwave. 

Najin glared at him with wide eyes, but Helmet Knight didn’t respond.

‘At least one of us should survive.’ A star facing death had made its choice. It was time to pay the price. Helmet Knight, rolling and sliding across the ground, struggled to get up.

Najin, having been thrown by Helmet Knight, passed through a translucent barrier and tumbled down a slope. He stabbed his sword into the ground to slow his momentum and came to a stop, gritting his teeth.

‘That bastard lied to me.’

What was all that about aiming for the side on the third strike? Was he planning this from the beginning? Grinding his teeth, Najin climbed back up the slope. He had no intention of following Helmet Knight’s plan. His head was boiling, and he acted on impulse.

He stood at the boundary line and tried to pass through the translucent barrier he had just crossed to return to Helmet Knight, but the boundary wouldn’t let him out. 

He frowned as he collided with the barrier. Even when he pushed with his hands, the barrier didn’t budge.

‘Why? There was no resistance when I entered earlier, right?’ Najin drew his sword, gathered Sword Aura, and struck the barrier, but it simply bounced off.

“Damn it…” He gritted his teeth and struck the barrier again.

Kwaang! 

A loud noise echoed, but the barrier remained unscathed. His eyes burned with frustration as he stared at the barrier. 

He looked around. ‘What is this? Why…?’

- …It’s a forbidden zone.

‘What does that mean?’

- It’s a type of sacred ground. Rules are set, and if you don’t follow them, you can’t leave.

Najin shouted in frustration, “What are the rules?! Tell me how to get out of here right now!”

- I don’t know. Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.

Najin’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”

- Calm down.

“Do I look calm to you…?”

- I told you to calm down.

Merlin shoved her face in front of Najin’s. Her bluish eyes glared into his bloodshot ones.

- Do you really think going out there will change anything? Seriously?

‘…’

- This isn’t like you. You’re too worked up.

‘The situation… the situation is like this. How can I…’

Najin groaned. As his face twisted in frustration, his intense emotions reached Merlin. 

She knew exactly what he was feeling and thinking.

“This is the second time. The second time…”

The situation was traumatic for Najin. Ivan, who had been a mentor, a father figure, and a friend to him, had sacrificed himself to save him. Knowing this, Najin had been powerless to do anything.

He was weak. He lacked strength. There was no way for that version of himself to save Ivan.

A lot of time had passed since then; Najin had become a Sword Seeker, surpassing the level of a Sword Expert, and had reached the stage of Budding. He had even obtained three stars. Being much stronger than before, he thought he wouldn’t have to face a situation like that again.

But he was wrong. Absolutely wrong.

He was still weak. Even with three stars, nothing had changed.

“What do you mean it’s not like me? What am I supposed to do?”

- …

Merlin also gritted her teeth. She didn’t want to say this either. She, too, felt anger at the situation. She felt emotions similar to Najin’s, but a guide isn’t someone who sympathizes and shares anger—a guide is someone who shows the way.

- The Carnival Knight is a constellation with seven stars. He’s on par with, or even stronger than, the Sword Masters you met on the continent. What can you do against him?

Merlin pressed reality onto him.

- If you go out there now, you’ll only be a hindrance. Helmet Knight will try to protect you while fighting.

‘But…!’

- I know. I know!

Merlin spread her hand out to Najin.

- Then what? Should I descend there and destroy him? If that’s what you want, say it. I’ll do as you wish.

In her hand, eleven blue stars shone.

Najin could tell she wasn’t joking. If he wished for it, she would truly do it. She had the power to do so. Descending in her true form to kill Quixote and save Helmet Knight would be an easy task for her.

What would come after?

Even if she saved Helmet Knight, he didn’t have much time left. At most, a day or two, and the price for buying those two days? The destruction of the Outland and the continent.

The moment Merlin moved, the boundary would shake, and a gap would form in the seal of Camlann. The cursed beings of Camlann would burst through the gap, and the Witch of the Abyss would seize the opportunity to intervene and gift humanity with the apocalypse that had been delayed for a thousand years.

The Outland and Camlann would merge, and then the continent would follow.

Countless people would die and suffer fates worse than death.

In the end, Najin couldn’t make the choice. The price was too heavy to choose based on a moment of impulse. At the same time, he felt disgust toward himself.

Toward himself, who could do nothing. Toward himself, who was weighing Helmet Knight’s life against the fate of the world. Toward himself, who couldn’t make the choice to save Helmet Knight even though there was a way… he felt anger.

Grip.

His hand, holding his sword, trembled. He thought he had changed, but nothing had changed. Just like the day he fled, leaving Ivan behind, he felt powerless.

‘A way, there must be a way…’ Najin was desperately trying to think of a way.

Tap.

Someone touched his shoulder.

Helmet Knight thought, ‘The world really never goes as you want it to. It’s utterly miserable.’

At the very least, he wanted to choose his own end, but the world wouldn’t even grant him that. The world whispered in his ear that there’s no such thing as a heroic ending, that death is always miserable and pitiful.

Quixote’s lance pierced his body. His armor shattered, and blood flowed from his withered skin. He was surprised to find that he still had that much blood left in his body.

“Ah…” Groaning as he struggled against Quixote, Helmet Knight hated how pathetic he had become. He hated it so much. In the past, he could have easily defeated the clown, torn his mouth apart, and claimed a glorious victory, but now, he couldn’t.

He had weakened. He had eroded. He had broken.

Helmet Knight could no longer swing his sword as he once did and could no longer achieve victory. Yet, in his mind, he was still glorious and shining. The gap between reality and imagination tormented him.

‘Damn it, damn it…’ He gritted his teeth.

He felt fear. The miserable end awaiting him was right in front of him. He shuddered at the thought of that end.

He sensed his defeat.

It was an opponent he could never defeat.

Desperately, he tried to give meaning to his defeat. He had saved his disciple, hadn’t he? A mentor who sacrificed his life for his disciple—that wasn’t a bad end, was it? That much…

No. He couldn’t be satisfied with such an end.

He wanted to close his eyes with satisfaction, but he still had regrets. Those regrets made him struggle pathetically.

He rolled on the ground in an undignified manner. He kicked up dust to obscure Quixote’s vision and create an opening. Acting in ways unbecoming of a knight, repeating the despicable acts he hated the most, he struggled to survive.

‘I can’t die like this.’

‘This kind of end is unacceptable.’

‘I still have unfinished dreams.’

‘I can’t die here…’

The world wasn’t so kind as to grant wishes just because he wanted them. Quixote’s lance pierced Helmet Knight’s body. Blood poured out as Helmet Knight staggered back, his unsteady steps looked as if he would collapse at any moment.

He no longer had the strength to stand. Just as he was about to kneel…

“You’re about to kneel again, you damn fool. A knight’s knees aren’t so light as to kneel so easily.”

Someone supported Helmet Knight’s body. 

Helmet Knight turned to look. 

Bernstein stood there.

“…Bernstein? How are you here?”

“You said your destination hadn’t changed, so I waited.” Bernstein helped Helmet Knight to his feet. “We all came running for you. Your end can’t be like this. It just can’t.”

Bernstein smiled bitterly. He didn’t bother to say that he had spent the past month investigating what he’d been doing in the Outlands, that he had wandered around to verify his words, that he had finally come to realize the truth he had ignored for 150 years…

Instead of saying all that, he simply said, “Isn’t that right, Hero of the Empire?”

Monster, coward, traitor, deserter…

Not those derogatory terms, but “hero.”

Calling Helmet Knight a hero, Bernstein raised his sword. “A hero deserves an end befitting the title. This isn’t your final destination. I can’t let you close your eyes in a place like this. I wouldn’t be able to face my comrades who stood by your side back then.”

Bernstein raised his sword. “So, go…”

A star rose above the blade of the sword. Five old, eroded stars shone above Bernstein’s head. Stars that could no longer shine, answering their master’s will, shone one last time.

“Go where you must go.”

Bernstein’s Sword Aura burned the stars as brightly as the sun, using them as fuel.