Surviving as a Knight in a Trash Game

“No one risks their life to help others in this world. But as a knight who follows chivalry…”

Selena was truly a wise young woman. She held wisdom within that large frame. She hadn’t knelt easily.

“It’s already been thirty years since the emperor passed. The world’s completely changed. Chivalry’s become a laughingstock. No—I'm not even sure that what you speak of as chivalry existed when the emperor was still alive.”

“I know. But still, I’m begging you… Even in a world like this, my father has always lived by the righteous path.”

“So because your father stayed on the righteous path, I’m supposed to help?”

“You have the power to save him, don’t you?”

“That’s not a reason.”

“I’ll do anything you ask.”

“I don’t like fat women.”

“…”

Karl’s answer was so chillingly cold that it left her speechless for a moment.

“I can lose weight. I’ll try to become someone you can like. Please… please save my father.”

She was a bothersome woman. He had no intention of getting caught up in pointless trouble, and he’d already grown sick of fighting in the East Continent. When he came over to this land, he’d thought maybe he didn’t want to kill anyone anymore.

“It’s no use. The request I accepted was to escort you to the Fresco Monastery.”

“…”

The quest displayed in the message window ended there as well. At Karl’s words, she lowered her head.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Tears dropped and splashed to the ground. Because she had been trying so hard to remain composed and find a way, the sight of her crying felt all the more pitiful. Even so, Karl’s answer wasn’t going to change.

After that, Karl and his group continued on toward the monastery. Other than occasional small talk from Roberto, a heavy silence hung over the party.

“You truly aren’t going to say a single word.”

“…”

“I do believe Sir Karl is entirely correct, but still… in the end, the young lady will lose her father. You could at least speak a little more kindly…”

“Even though I won’t actually help?”

Roberto couldn’t find the words to respond to that. Because Karl was entirely right. There was no reason for him to risk his life for someone he had only just met.

The gold was payment for escorting the young lady from the domain to the monastery. Simply fulfilling that contract was more than enough by this era’s standards. Roberto sighed and turned to the young lady’s carriage.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

Though Roberto tried to offer comfort, her voice, though calm, carried an unmistakable sadness.

“Please don’t resent Sir Karl too much. If he gets involved in this fight, it could create a deep grudge with unknown consequences. It’s not something one can step into lightly.”

“I understand…”

Selena also knew well that Karl would not help.

“But still…”

“It’s dangerous!”

Clang!

Roberto hastily deflected a bolt flying in from somewhere with his sword. At the same time, he pulled Selena behind the carriage, just as a dozen or so more bolts came flying toward them in succession.

“Ahh!”

Most of the bolts were blocked by the carriage, but one of the wild shots flew through the window and lodged into Selena’s shoulder.

“Sir Karl! It’s dangerous!”

As Roberto took cover behind the carriage and kept watch for enemies, Karl suddenly appeared—no one knew from where—sword drawn in one hand, launching himself straight toward the front.

From the forest, another dozen bolts flew toward Karl. Roberto was sure the arrows would pierce straight through his body.

Whoosh!

Just when it seemed like Karl was surrounded on all sides by arrows, he spun his body and advanced diagonally with a strange step.

Then, as if by magic, the bolts struck the spot where he had just been. In that split second, Karl surged forward even faster.

“Block him! Work together!”

As Karl approached the forest like some kind of stuntman, the ones hiding there gasped in surprise.

Slash!

Before anyone realized how he got so close, Karl’s sword had already taken the head of one of the ambushers. The ones disguised as bandits shouted in disbelief.

“He’s a skilled one…!”

The one who seemed to be the leader let out a startled cry. Though they were wearing masks in an attempt to hide, even they knew they hadn’t pulled off a perfect disguise as mountain bandits.

Swish, slash.

“Ah…!”

In a matter of moments, Karl closed the distance like a ghost and swung his sword a few more times.

“Shit, no one said we’d be up against someone like him!”

They had simply been told to kill a lowborn knight and capture the noble young lady. They had never faced such a one-sided crisis even back in the West Continent.

“Basko, what the hell is going on? Why is that monster here…?”

Three knights leading the group watched Karl’s one-sided slaughter with expressions that said they had seen something they never should have. It wasn’t just because Karl was cutting down soldiers in the blink of an eye.

They had realized that the man before them was a Superior.

The Superior rank was so rare, you’d have to search the entire continent to find one. Of course, life-or-death combat wasn’t always about facing each other fairly, but if confronted head-on, even a few Expert-class warriors—those beyond the level of normal players—would struggle to defeat a Superior-level knight.

“You’re supposed to be in the East Continent… Why…?”

One of the attackers recognized Karl, but before he could even swing his sword, his body collapsed to the ground.

“Tch!”

Exchanging a glance with a comrade, Basko clenched his teeth and lunged toward Karl. The two of them began a coordinated attack, as if they had fought together for a long time.

They were survivors of the Holy War—those who had lived through the hellish desert and the demonic zealots. In that brief moment of cooperation, they dared to hope for a mirage of victory.

“The ‘Ghost of Chevalier’ is still human! A man dies if you stab him!”

Basko—ranked 7th in the Northwind Knights, who had aligned with the Bolido House—screamed to overcome his fear and swung his sword at Karl’s knee. At the same time, his fellow knight’s blade flew toward Karl’s neck.

That’s it! We got him!

The comrade was certain his sword would take Karl’s head.

Swish.

In the moment of that certainty, Basko met Karl’s eyes. Then he saw Karl’s blade sliding up his comrade’s sword like a snake on an impossible path.

“No…”

No matter what Basko muttered, his comrade’s head was already flying into the air.

“He’s… he’s real… The Ghost of Chevalier… it’s the Ghost of Chevalier!”

Basko’s pupils trembled uncontrollably.

It had only taken a moment. Before he realized it, everyone who had come with him was lying on the ground. And Basko knew—they weren’t getting back up.

“Are you coming?”

Basko gripped his sword tightly at Karl’s quiet yet terrifying voice.

“Uaaaaaaah!”

With a scream that sounded more like a desperate roar to overcome his fear, Basko charged at Karl.

Thud… roll, roll…

And the moment he charged, his head flew into the sky and dropped to the ground. In his rolling, severed head, his eyes were filled with a strange sense of injustice.

[Your Fame has increased.]

[Your Fame has increased.]

[Your Fame has inc—]

[Fame…]

[…]

It was the moment he cut down the final enemy. Suddenly, countless translucent message windows flashed across Karl’s vision like mad.

[Title: Ghost of Chevalier has been granted. All stats increase due to the effects of the title.]

Karl stared at the system window that had abruptly appeared and fell into thought. Why had a function that hadn’t activated even once in the past fifteen years suddenly gone berserk like this now? After some contemplation, Karl reached a conclusion.

In RPGs, as the character levels up, the difficulty increases. Quests get harder, the gear gets better, and the environment changes along with the character’s growth and the story’s flow.

Then what about Karl now?

He had trained to the point of transcendence, fought in countless battles, and left a legacy that any sword-bearer from the East Continent would know by name.

And yet, in the past fifteen years, aside from a message saying his stamina had increased and being unable to skip the prologue, he had seen nothing.

[An anomaly in the character has been detected. Adjusting mission difficulty.]

Just as Karl’s thoughts arrived at that point, a new message appeared before his eyes.

Difficulty adjustment—he couldn’t be sure what exactly it meant, but the gears that had long been halted had finally begun to turn again.

‘Not that it matters now.’

After all, he had survived countless years in the East Continent with death constantly at his throat.

“…!”

As Karl focused on the newly rising windows, Selena, who had been watching the utterly one-sided slaughter unfold before her, stood frozen in shock.

In an instant, Karl had wiped out ten soldiers and three knights.

There had been no mercy, no hesitation.

It painted a vivid picture of the life he must have lived.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes.”

Karl pulled a few items from the pouch tied to his horse and tossed them over. One by one, the items landed in their hands—disinfectant, bandages, and healing ointment.

“The bolts don’t seem to be poisoned, but if you don’t remove them and disinfect the wound quickly, it’ll fester. You know how to disinfect, right?”

Just like Earth’s medieval times, medicine wasn’t well-developed here either.

With religion blaming disease on sin or demonic influence, it wasn’t surprising.

However, as small regional lords began holding fragmented power and war became more frequent, the concept of disinfection had started spreading among those near the battlefield.

In that sense, this world was slightly better than medieval Earth.

Roberto also understood the basic principle, so he pulled out the bolt from Selena’s shoulder, disinfected the wound, and tightly wrapped her shoulder in a clean bandage.

Perhaps due to the ointment’s effects, blood leaked at first, but soon the bleeding stopped.

“Thank you…”

Selena bowed her head in gratitude, knowing that she had only survived because of Karl.

“Guess the 40 gold wasn’t a complete waste.”

Karl, unnecessarily emphasizing the 40 gold, gathered his belongings and stood up.

“Let’s move.”

The corpses would attract wild animals, and there was also a chance of another ambush.

‘Unlikely, but still.’

Karl changed the group formation.

This time, a knight stood on each side of the carriage, prioritizing its protection.

“Just a moment ago… They seemed to know who you were. Who are you, Sir Karl?”

“Who I am doesn’t matter. My job ends once I get you to the monastery.”

“Yes, once we reach it… that’s the end…”

Selena’s expression stiffened slightly as she turned her body to the side.

Then, from beyond the carriage, Roberto’s voice came.

“Couldn’t you treat the young lady a little more warmly?”

“…”

Getting no response, Roberto let out a heavy sigh.

“You’re even more frustrating than I am, Sir Karl.”

It was the first time Selena had seen Roberto sigh like that, and she let out a small laugh. Her maid and Roberto also chuckled along with her.

Even though Selena’s frame was more than twice that of an average woman, when she smiled, her natural beauty shone through just a little.

“Sir Karl seems to have extensive battlefield experience.”

“Not exactly lacking.”

“The movements you showed earlier… Was that the Verdadera Destreza used by the Holy Knights?”

“You’re quite well-informed.”

“It’s a technique that's been made public anyway. I tried mimicking it once myself. It was so complex, I doubted its practicality and gave up right away.”

Karl’s eyes seemed to say Exactly.

“The rotation and circular motion you used to dodge the bolts—I’ve only ever seen that in manuals. This is the first time I’ve seen it actually used. Even the Holy Knights I’ve met never moved like you did.”

“Then they must’ve been hacks.”

Verdadera Destreza was a martial art created with the goal of achieving ultimate movement.

Its footwork and body motions were based on circles and geometric forms.

By constantly moving, one maintained a positional advantage over opponents—it was the core of the Holy Knights’ martial system.

However, in recent years, even among Holy Knights, very few truly understood or mastered the technique, and it was on the verge of being lost.

Things had gotten so bad that the Holy Knights had released the manuals to the public in an attempt to preserve their foundational martial art.

It was a radical choice, especially for a group that valued tradition.

In Roberto’s eyes, the man before him, who wielded the notoriously difficult technique more skillfully than the Holy Knights themselves, was not someone whose past could be easily imagined.

He began piecing together bits of information he’d heard from the attackers earlier.

Karl had participated in the Holy War and had once been part of the Holy Knights. And then there was that nickname…

They called him the Ghost of Chevalier.

Perhaps Karl was a fairly well-known figure back in the East Continent.

He wasn’t saying anything, so there was no way to know for sure—but with skills like his, it was hard to believe he was just some nameless knight.

Even though Roberto cast him a questioning glance, Karl didn’t react at all.

Realizing Karl had no intention of revealing his past, Roberto gave up and turned his head away.

He wasn’t about to pry into a past the man didn’t want to talk about.