34. Vows

The meadow Nathanial stood in was nothing more than a mental space the system had created. A private location where time ticked away, but allowed him to act freely. He stared at the golden screen as if waiting for a response. However, knowing the messenger, it never worked the way he wanted.

His eyes fell on his vow.

I will endure this war, no matter the cost to myself.

A truth.

I will not allow those I cherish to fall as others have while I still draw breath and wield a sword.

A condition.

The more I bear, the stronger I become. The more I protect, the heavier my burden.

A cost… and… a grace.

The vow was composed of four sentences.

Four concepts that bound the vow together, creating a rule based on a philosophical ideology. Then there were the thresholds for each vow. A value that increased based on the merits.

Nathanial’s gaze swept over the number. Seventeen out of a hundred. If only he could have done more. Then maybe John would still be here. Maybe the men who followed him would still be around.

But now he needed to form his next vow. A vow that would force him to give away a part of himself just to obtain a sliver of strength.

“How many vows can I have?” Nathanial quietly asked.

[ At your current strength, only two. ]

Nathanial weakly chuckled. A piece of the puzzle was still missing. What his first vow meant to him was carrying a responsibility no one else could. Yet… was that really the case? All the survivors were grieving for someone they cared about.

They had all lost someone. War was built on inherited grief, and until the end arrived, the cycle would only continue.

Nathanial felt the wind brush against his face. Then, without warning—the endless blue sky he stood beneath vanished. Replaced by rain the night before, which hammered against his face. He staggered, trying to get his bearings.

Cold mud shifted beneath his metallic boots, and the white clothes he wore no longer existed. Only his iron armor.

The scent of blood and smoke flooded his lungs. The distant roar of thunder and flames crackling through the forest reached him, and his eyes widened.

Nathanial focused on the sound of metal clashing against metal. Azure aura illuminated the darkness beyond the trees, then came the waves of pressure racing outwards.

Nathanial’s breathing staggered as he slowly turned.

An explosion thundered through the woods. Nathanial stared at the source and immediately saw them.

John and the six-star knight traded blows one after another.

The watchman stood several meters away with his halberd half buried in the skull of an Empire soldier. Blood dripped down from the iron weapon as ice grew on his wounds to seal the bleeding. His azure aura cradled his battered body.

Why was he fighting so hard?

John’s armor was shattered across the chest and shoulder. Deep wounds covered his body, and arrowheads had lodged themselves in his limbs.

And yet—he still stood.

Even though he should have given up long ago, John continued fighting with sheer desperation in his eyes. His halberd cut through the air before getting blown back by the Empire’s knight. The remaining two watchmen had long fallen. One cut clean in half and the other bleeding out while launching one final attack.

The knight didn’t even bat an eye and swung once with his aura-clad blade, tearing through the forest as an aura slash claimed another soul.

He walked toward John and admitted. “You’ve delayed us longer than expected.”

John forced a smile. “Funny. I was about to say the same thing.”

Blood spilled from his mouth and through the torn green half mask. Nathanial’s heart ached. He prayed with all his heart for John to run. To escape, knowing that he had done enough. But Luka’s broken voice echoed in his ears.

John was dying.

He was dying to buy as much time as possible, even though the watchmen could have easily escaped without them.

Nathanial tightly squeezed his fists with each clash, sending the wind rushing past his figure. Every movement, every strike, and every second John bought—was just so that they could escape.

He gritted his teeth, remembering the three rules that John had established.

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One: Never fight an opponent you aren’t confident you can beat.

A rule John broke the moment he stood between the knight and his friends.

Two: Never fight while outnumbered.

Another rule John broke as he was surrounded on all sides by the Empire’s scouts.

Three: Never let your emotions control your decisions.

This was the final rule John shattered when he chose to protect his friends, knowing that he would die in exchange.

Nathanial stood there in silence, watching the watchmen’s desperate struggle against the knight.

The knight tilted his head slightly, unsure what to make of the entire situation. “You should have run with the others.”

John wiped the blood from his lips. “And let you chase them?”

Azure aura flared around him again, with frost expanding from the ground beneath his feet. He locked eyes with the knight, forcing himself to stand as if he was dragging strength from a body that should have long collapsed.

“You cannot win,” the knight declared.

“I know.”

The knight held onto his longsword. “How foolish.”