PDLP Chapter 173: Knight of Dark Disaster 02
Chapter 173: Knight of Dark Disaster 02
"This is an order, I cannot refuse."
The young knight, whose eyes were covered by black satin, spoke in a flat tone, and it was impossible to tell whether he liked or disliked it.
The silk ribbon behind his head fluttered in the cold wind along with his hair of the same color. He walked at the front of the team, as if he was the only black in the white.
This color is so rare in Slavic culture that it seems even more mysterious and dangerous, making people unable to help but keep their eyes on it.
The knight armor he wore was also different from that of other knights.
The knights charged into battle heavily, their armor covering their entire bodies, thick and majestic.
His armor is more close-fitting and lighter in style. The jet-black armor has a cold luster. It looks light, but one can tell it is heavy from the sound of friction.
Unlike other knights, he did not carry a lance, but instead had a black knife on his waist.
The shape of the knife is also very strange, thin and straight, it looks like a command knife but is sharper and more majestic than a command knife.
All of his equipment was specially made for him by an oriental blacksmith who lived in seclusion here to suit his fighting style.
Who would have known that the knife that looked like it would break into pieces if it came into contact with the heavy sword could actually cut through iron like mud.
"But..." Hermann wanted to say something else, but after a long while he couldn't come up with any idea.
They are subjects and can only obey orders.
At the same time, in the magnificent and luxurious palace.
Pure white hair fell like a waterfall on the dark throne. A gorgeous and exquisite black crown of thorns was worn on the head, and a blood-red gem was inlaid in the center, shining brightly.
The gorgeous yet extremely majestic monarch leaned back in his chair with his chin propped up, his brows and eyes lazy.
Anyone who sees this Slavic king would probably not believe that this man, who looks to be in his early thirties at most, is actually over fifty years old and has many children.
"Father."
At the bottom of the high stairs, a young man with a face as gorgeous as an oil painting, deep and three-dimensional facial features, and extraordinary elegance even when kneeling on one knee, bowed his head respectfully.
The long pure white ponytail was scattered on the dark blue cloak piled behind him, and a pair of light golden phoenix eyes that were almost identical to his father's were slightly lowered to look at the ground covered with golden red carpet.
The Slavs were once known as the kingdom of gods, and their Slavic royal family was rumored to be the descendants of gods, as evidenced by their incomparable looks and extraordinary combat power.
"Chelno will be back here tomorrow. He is the contracted knight I chose for you, so you don't have to prepare for the knight selection anymore."
This proud and strategic Slavic king only spoke in such a gentle tone when facing his favorite second son.
The young man in pure white knight uniform frowned. He raised his head and looked at his father, with a little dissatisfaction in his tone, "Father, I don't like Cherno."
Tarnov Berg's tone remained calm, and there was no fluctuation in his cold eyes. "Why?"
The young man's mind unconsciously recalled the ominous black cat that always stood in the corner and spied on his thin figure. He felt annoyed and said, "He and I have different personalities."
"If you don't like him, just ignore him and keep him by your side. He is the most trustworthy of all your brothers and he will protect you unconditionally." Tarnov's tone of voice when he said this was not a question but a statement.
Whenever the king spoke like this, it meant that a matter had been concluded.
The young man finally made a final struggle relying on his father's doting on him. "Then let him become the first in the knight selection in a fair and just manner. Otherwise, he will only be met with endless rumors and provocations, which will definitely affect me. I don't want to be bothered by these trivial matters."
Tarnov raised his lips slightly when he heard this, and replied lightly, "Sure."
"Thank you, father." The young man respectfully placed one hand on his chest and bowed, then he respectfully stood up and said goodbye.
The moment he turned around, the young man's eyes, which were originally full of emotions, instantly became calm, and his expression was so cold that no emotion could be seen at all.
The young man stepped out of the gate of the royal court, looked back at the towering castle, and then looked at the knights who had been respectfully waiting for his result, and his eyes swept over them one by one.
The coldness and indifference in his eyes had already been covered by humility before he came out, and his tone was also very calm, "In the knight selection in two days, I hope you can win for me."
The most outstanding knights in the royal capital immediately showed determination in their eyes, and looked at the Second Prince who was destined to become the king in the future with fanaticism in their eyes.
"Yes, your highness." They said in unison.
Their powerful and beautiful king could never have a contracted knight who was born a bastard and had black hair. This was a blasphemy to pure white, and even more so to the king they swore to follow until death.
However, their gentle king was still so kind that he asked them not to harm the life of the "Son of Disaster", and of course they obeyed.
Making someone disabled shouldn't be considered murder, right?
Listening to their colleagues discussing how to plot against the Third Prince, some true knights looked troubled. In the end, they did not choose to go along with them, but instead planned to win fairly.
Some ideas that have been instilled since childhood are difficult to remove and change, especially for these noble knights who have received a stereotyped aristocratic education since childhood.
Supporting pure white and hating darkness has long become their creed and even their belief.
Xu Yan watched all this through the virtual screen opened by 937, his eyes always on his second brother.
He didn't care at all about these people's rejection and malice towards him, he was just thinking.
If the mission in this world is still aimed at the 'protagonist' and he continues to have emotional entanglements with the protagonist... wouldn't he have to fight with his second brother...
Tsk, that’s a bit exciting.
Xu Yan was inexplicably excited.
But unfortunately, his script will no longer revolve around the 'protagonist' this time.
He could finally seek death purely, and also stretch his muscles and relax his body and mind.
Thinking of this, a hint of bloodthirsty madness flashed in his blood-red eyes covered by black satin.
Xu Yan's war beast mount is a silver-white Wind Wolf King. It runs fast and steadily, has a strong and agile body, and can run briskly on any terrain.
The pitch-black cloak fluttered behind him as the pitch-black knight rode the gigantic wolf king through the snowy forests and disappeared in the distance in the blink of an eye.
A moment later, a figure suddenly appeared in the snowy forest.
He had an upright posture and a handsome face, but his handsome eyes and brows were filled with gloom and hostility. The biting wind and snow could not get close to him at all.
He was wearing a black and gray suit and a windbreaker, and his black combat boots made a squeaking sound as he stepped on the thick snow. A black long sword and a blood-red dagger were hung on his waist, and the two weapons were tied tightly together, with the sword outside and the dagger inside.
His hand was always on the hilt of the long sword, and he carefully protected the bloody knife as if he was protecting a fragile treasure.
Even though he knew that as long as he was alive, almost no one could damage this life-long weapon, and even if it was broken, it would revive again.
But he still couldn't bear to do it.
Because this was the only thing that man left him besides 'freedom'.
Even the memory of that person was not left to him at all.
If he hadn't recovered his memories bit by bit, he would probably still be living in a daze, not even knowing that his beloved died for him and gave up everything for him.
And now.
He finally found it.
Found the soul that escaped from his sight.
He was so grateful that he had kept a trick and had someone take Xu Yan's soul away from the copy.
Otherwise, he might have truly lost him.