“So… you didn’t come to me to take revenge on those who betrayed you, who deceived you? To let raging flames of fury sweep across the continent?” The silver-haired girl blinked her exquisite eyes, gleaming like crimson gems, disbelief flickering in them.
The knight shook his head. “Ending it here is more than enough.”
“You’re among humanity’s finest. Are you truly willing to abandon the skills you forged through blood and sweat?”
His silent nod sent a faint ripple through her once-still heart.
“Not even a trace of bitterness? You gave everything for humanity, for this land—yet not a soul thanks you.”
“Their gratitude is their concern. My actions are mine alone.”
“A knight never needs their approval to anchor his beliefs.”
Meeting his gaze, she found not a hint of resentment in the armored man’s eyes.
No human’s deceit could be so deep she couldn’t see it.
Only one possibility remained.
He truly walked his talk.
“You don’t seem human at all.”
“Is that a compliment… or an insult, Your Majesty?”
“A pure compliment.” A subtle curve touched her lips. “Honestly, I’ve grown weary of ordinary humans. You… bring something refreshingly strange.”
“For that alone, I thank you—showing me such an odd human exists, reshaping my view of your kind.”
“Sir Knight,” she crossed her perfectly proportioned legs sheathed in black stockings, crimson eyes glinting with playful mischief, “are you truly without desire? Or do you merely believe you are? Don’t worry—just us here. No one will leak your… *unspeakable* secrets~”
“Are you certain you wish to hear it, Your Majesty?”
“You’ve piqued my curiosity.”
“……I want a chicken leg.” After a pause, the knight spoke hesitantly yet earnestly, a touch of embarrassment in his tone.
“……Huh?” Her expression froze. “What?”
“I miss roasted chicken legs—tender, glazed with black pepper sauce, sprinkled with cumin……"
“Stop.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. *This armored man was about to monologue about chicken legs.* She had no idea what face to make.
“Are you mocking me? I meant *other* desires!”
“Hmm……" He tilted his head, thinking.
After a long silence: “Chilled blueberry wine.”
“……?" A twitch at her eye. In all her centuries as the Crimson Queen, she’d never been this speechless.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“But these *are* my desires.”
“Tch. Food and drink? I meant grander ambitions! No wish to be immortalized? For your name to be sung through millennia?”
“……Why should I care if they remember my name?”
“Hah? Don’t you want your name to *define* ‘knight’? To be praised forever?”
“That would be sorrowful.”
“? What do you mean?”
“If they only remember *me*, it means no worthy knights rose after. When the world suffers and no one steps forward to sacrifice… is there greater sorrow?”
“……"
“If you insist on calling it a ‘grand’ desire… I have one.”
“I hope they never need to remember me. Never have to.” His voice was calm, resolute.
She understood.
To recall a savior meant the world had fallen ill again.
“How dull.” She shot him a glance and sank into her throne.
“You’re the most unusual human I’ve met… but not interesting.”
“You’re also the most boring.”
So boring she’d lost all urge to kill him.
“And the favor I requested, Your Majesty?”
“A request means I can refuse, yes?”
“What? If I say no, will you attack this delicate, helpless girl~?” She giggled sweetly, voice dripping with exaggerated coyness.
“……" He stood motionless.
“……"
An hour passed.
“Enough.” She sighed. “I don’t mind extra decor in my court—but *this*? Ugly, tasteless, and painfully annoying.”
“My apologies,” the knight murmured, bowing.
“Then *leave*! Are you camping here?!” She’d never been this flabbergasted.
“So… if I refuse, you’ll stand here till you die?”
“……"
She’d met all kinds of humans. Never one so stubbornly eager to die.
*How is his brain wired?!* She almost wanted to pry open his tin-can armor.
“Tch. Why *me*? If you’re tired of life, find someone else. Or just end it.”
“Your Majesty,” the knight lifted his head, gaze locking with her crimson eyes, “do you crave an opponent?”
“An… *opponent*?” Her eyes narrowed. As a pureblood of the Divine Race—lineage untainted, undefeated for centuries save one lapse—she felt the old thrill stir.
“Having no rival must be lonely.”
“You… wish to be *my* opponent?” Her smile vanished. She rose. Her delicate doll-like face twisted into something terrifyingly fierce.
“Human. Do you grasp what you’re saying?”
Though the Divine Race had faded, any human challenging their dignity would be crushed to dust by divine might. Their pride would not ignore an ant’s taunt.
“For twenty years, I’ve searched for a worthy opponent.” He stood unmoved beneath her crushing aura. “One to test all I’ve learned. I haven’t found one… until now.” His eyes burned. “That is why I came to you, Your Majesty.”
“Heh… Should I praise your courage… or mock your ignorance?”
“You’ve lived thirty years. Do you know how long *I’ve* lived?”
“No.”
“Good. Even I’ve forgotten. Millennia, at least. And you—a fleeting human—dare claim no equal exists?”
“Then… I suppose I must fight.”
*Clang!*
He drew his rusted iron sword. Rust flaked away, revealing a cross-shaped divine blade blazing with golden light.
“I couldn’t agree more.”
“Heh.” She shook her head, a smirk forming. “Provoked like this… my hands are itching.”
“Well then.”
“Since Sir Knight so earnestly seeks a rival…”
“I’ll reluctantly play the evil dragon awaiting the hero’s blade.”
As she spoke, a giant bone scythe wreathed in soulfire materialized in her hands.
