There Is No World For ■■

Tianlin greeted Yeomyeong with a mix of surprise and pleasure on his face.

"Not a team leader, just the lowest member of Team One."

Due to his casual demeanor, mercenaries who didn't recognize Yeomyeong's face also crossed their arms or lowered their weapons, observing the situation.

It was a relatively mild atmosphere considering they were dealing with a superhuman who had subdued dozens of people at once.

After stepping out of the same limousine as Yeomyeong, Tianlin looked at Yeomyeong, then at Sancho who also exited the limousine, and finally back to Yeomyeong before speaking.

"Why are you here? Didn't you say you were going back to Earth?"

"I have a request to fulfill."

"A request, huh? We've received a commission."

Tianlin said this and gestured with his chin toward a building.

"We came here to capture a war criminal."

War criminal? Yeomyeong tilted his head in confusion, and the one-eyed dwarf Jepon shouted angrily,

"A war criminal! Why would our leader be called a war criminal?"

Tianlin sighed and responded,

"For the atrocities committed in the Provence Autonomous Region, for driving monsters to massacre civilians, and for the murder of innocent Earthlings."

The Provence Autonomous Region was once known as the Marcher Lord's territory—a land betrayed by the Emperor, handed over to the French.

Jepon grimaced so much that his one-eyed glasses nearly dug into his flesh as he glared at Tianlin.

"We're the murderers? Bringing monsters? Do Earthlings die if they tell the truth?"

Tianlin shrugged.

"We don't believe it either. Frankly, it's dubious that you even have the capability to do that."

"What did you say?"

"But what does it matter if we believe it or not? The bastards who hired us say it's true, so it must be."

Sancho, and even the mercenaries, remained silent, as if they just realized the existence of a manipulator stirring up the mercenaries and the mafia.

Tianlin continued, looking back at Yeomyeong,

"See that luxury villa over there, four stories high... Ah, vice commander, don't turn your eyes so obviously."

Yeomyeong, unlike Sancho who blatantly looked toward the roof, sneakily checked it.

Tianlin clicked his tongue and added,

"There are CIA agents targeting us from that roof, and at the back, the U.S. military is preparing artillery. Not just any soldiers, real U.S. military."

True to his words, there were three figures on a roof about 2 kilometers away.

Deputy Commander Kim Mansu of the mercenaries, CIA agent Scarlet O'Hara, and...

Jeon Yongseop?

"Why is he here?"

The knights blinked in confusion as to who 'he' was, while Tianlin scratched his nose and answered,

"Who knows?"

"What's clear is that the U.S. definitely wants to capture or kill the person here."

At the mention of the United States, the knights' eyes shifted, filled with questions and fear.

Yeomyeong fiddled nervously with his hands before asking,

"Are you sure you'll be alright?"

It was a question about whether it was okay to spill so many secrets. Tianlin smirked.

"Of course, it's not okay. But we might have to pretend to fight, what do you think?"

Using telekinesis to strangle might be too much... Breaking an arm or a leg might be better. Hey, does everyone agree?"

Despite the sudden absurdity, the knights made bewildered faces, and Yeomyong turned to look at the other mercenaries.

Their eyes held the meaning of agreement.

The mercenaries looked at Yeomyong and Tianlin alternately and then sighed, picking up their weapons.

"I'll need a proper explanation later on who that guy is."

"I'm not sure if this is okay. The leader will be angry."

"Mercenaries do exactly as much as they're paid for. Just pay for the bullets, and that's all they shoot."

Tianlin chuckled at his murmuring colleagues, then picked up his gun, adding,

"This mission is semi-forced. And the pay is low."

"Still, let's try to make it look convincing. We should at least take a couple of shots. One in the arm, one in the calf. How about it?"

"No, that's a bit..."

"Alright, I'll count to three, and we start. Three, two..."

Before he could say "one," Yeomyeong preemptively used his telekinesis.

Instead of choking or breaking limbs, he sent all the guns flying.

"You really hated getting shot, huh? With your regeneration ability."

"Sorry. I couldn't make a noise with the gun."

"Oh, is that so? No wonder they didn't give us silencers."

Tianlin said this and then leapt back, conjuring an ice blade with magic, loudly enough for the Americans behind to hear,

"Negotiations have broken down! Kill them!"

****

"What in the world?"

With a hint of panic in his voice, Kim Mansu turned his head to look at the owner of the voice.

There stood a man who was once known as a handsome mage in Korea, his face etched deeply with the years, but still undeniably a handsome middle-aged man.

Of course, Kim Mansu didn't care how the man looked. What caught his interest was the look in Jeon Yongseop's eyes as he watched Yeomyeong—a look filled with... anger? No, it was confusion. The confusion of encountering an unexpected presence.

Scarlet O'Hara seemed to feel the same, whispering something softly into Jeon Yongseop's ear.

"Train... Necro... Unknown... Crashed..."

Kim Mansu tried to focus mana in his ear but could only catch a few words.

But as soon as he heard something about a 'fallen star,' he could clearly see Jeon Yongseop's face contort.

What was this 'fallen star' that elicited such a reaction?

Kim Mansu hid his rising curiosity by turning back to the fight between Tianlin and Yeomyeong.

Just then, one of the mercenaries threw a hand axe at Yeomyeong.

It was a speed that a superhuman could easily dodge, but as Yeomyeong avoided it using his telekinesis, Tianlin magically accelerated the hand axe.

A nearly perfect combo attack. Yeomyeong ended up taking the axe in his left shoulder.

From this distance, the blade slicing through his deltoid and the blood splattering were clearly visible.

Wasn't that a bit harsh? They should take it easy on the kid.

Kim Mansu frowned slightly, then shut his mouth as he saw Tianlin's leg twist unnaturally.

The intensity of the staged fight was beyond belief.

Jeon Yongseop and Scarlet also seemed deceived by the combat, scoffing as they saw Tianlin rolling on the ground.

"Tch, can't even play the bait role."

...

This guy? I knew from the start he was just bait.

Despite sharing the status of having left Korea, Kim Mansu, freed from viewing him through the lens of a traitor, clenched his fists.

It was fortunate that Tianlin had just brushed it off. There was no need to work for someone who couldn't even muster minimal respect.

As Kim Mansu thought this and spat on the ground, Jeon Yongseop pulled out a military phone.

"Plan A has failed; moving to Plan D."

"What? Not Plan B? There could be civilian casualties..."

Scarlet expressed confusion, but Jeon Yongseop dismissed her concerns.

"We're switching to D."

He began typing something into the military phone, prompting Scarlet to shout in panic.

"Sir, please reconsider. Or give me just 10 minutes! I can evacuate the civilians in 10 minutes!"

Despite Scarlet's plea, Jeon Yongseop swiftly finished typing. He put the phone down and said to her,

"Don't be mistaken, Agent Scarlet. We're not here just to save a few lives."

After saying this, he glanced at Kim Mansu and spoke as if granting a favor,

"I’ll give you one minute. Get your mercenaries out."

Kim Mansu had neither the authority nor the time to question what was happening. He immediately jumped off the roof and pulled out his radio.

"Everyone, retreat!"

****

The commander was meditating quietly, his eyes closed.

His life-long honed senses and mana told him that a fight was happening right outside his door, but he deliberately ignored it.

Keeping his sanity was already a struggle.

However, the mind is ultimately a slave to the body, and meditation follows the brain.

Soon, all kinds of intrusive thoughts filled his troubled mind.

Broken vows, lost honor, remnants of pride, and... fate.

Yes, fate.

Fate was a cruel mistress.

And yet, so brutal.

Wasn't it, Saint? What sin did I commit that fate has laid such trials upon me?

Was it a crime to live a life chasing honor and pride? Is this the outcome of a life dedicated to chivalry?

I should have rather died crushed under a Soviet tank. 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

Or perhaps it would have been better to be purged while advising His Majesty the Emperor.

Why.

Why did the Saint not find love and died alone?

Why did the Marcher Lord lose his home and pride?

Why did the Emperor's lineage abandon us?

Why did the people embrace communism, and why were the nobility and magicians so foolish?

Why, why, why-

Why must I end up like this?

Fate, you should have struck me down with cancer. Better to die a gruesome death.

Sancho, look at that poor fellow.

He lived his life as a knight without being a citizen of Earth or this land.

He deserves happiness. A hundred, a thousand times more deserving than I, who failed to keep my vows.

Why then, is he still taking care of me at his age?

Is this the punishment for my failure to keep my vows? If so, the burden should have been mine alone.

Can I still fulfill those vows?

Even now, should I cross the dimensional gate, butcher those damned baguette and cheese bastards indiscriminately, dig up Churchill and de Gaulle's corpses to console the Saint...

“Stop.”

The commander desperately clung to his sanity, as now was not the time.

Soon, Sancho would come with comrades to end this pain.

He had not expected that these unknown young comrades would turn over a notebook, but it was not unwelcome.

If he could just keep his mind together, the worst outcomes could be avoided.

With the senses of the commander, something flying through the air was felt.

The familiar sensation of a shell. The haunting memories of a lifetime on the battlefield.

"Artillery!! Artillery incoming!! Everyone take cover!!!"

There were no comrades or trenches to hear him here, but the commander instinctively covered his ears and shouted.

He curled up, thinking,

This isn't real. It's an illusion. Just a symptom of dementia...

As he comforted himself,

A shell struck directly into his room. The wooden walls, built just like those of the Knight's barracks, shattered, and the armor and fragments hung on the walls scattered.

However, no explosion was heard.

Instead, the magic engraved on the shell struck the commander's mind first.

-Aaaargh!! Priest! My priest!! -My leg, my leg is... -Get down!! You idiots, get down!!!

A simple illusion spell that any magician could cast.

The commander's eyes could see through the magic, but his mind could not.

As the scars in his heart peeled away, tears flowed instead of blood. The madness he had so tightly controlled surged and took over his mind.

Moments later, the commander opened his eyes, not in the outskirts of Gemini City but in the middle of a battlefield.

-Commander! -Marcher Lord has ordered a retreat! -There are too many wounded!

The voices of dead comrades rang clearly in his ears. The commander picked up a mace rolling on the ground and shouted,

"Everyone retreat!! I'll buy us time!!"

Just as he had done decades ago on the battlefield.

****

In the smoke of artillery, the commander ran in the opposite direction of his retreating comrades.

In war, retreating is as dangerous as charging.

Especially when retreating from Earthlings chasing with guns, the cover of superhumans was essential.

Thus, the commander swung his mace at the first Earthling he encountered, to save even one more comrade.

The mace, filled with mana, tore through the air and sent the Earthling flying far away.

"Deputy commander!"

The power ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) of the attack could have dented thick steel plates. But unfortunately, the opponent did not die.

Though knocked far away and rolling on the ground, gasping for breath was visible.

The Earthling survived such an attack? Impossible?

"You've finally learned to handle mana!"

The commander exclaimed in horror, clutching his mace.

"You vile thieves! Have you created false knights with stolen elixirs?"

Perhaps this was the battlefield where he would die, a small sense of anticipation creeping in.

'Wait, anticipation?'

As the commander sensed something was off and furrowed his brow, someone's sword aimed at his neck dropped.

A fine ambush, but a poor choice of opponent. As the commander felt the approaching sword, he arched his back and swung his mace wide.

The shockwave from the clash of sword and mace created a windstorm, engulfing the surroundings.

As their mana clashed and pushed back, both the assailant and the commander prepared for the next strike.

The sword, rebounding from the force, stabbed in again.

Instead of swinging his mace, the commander took advantage of the weapon's weight, stepping forward.

With a loud crash, the assailant was kicked in the ribs, sounding like tearing leather as he flew away.

The force was so powerful that the assailant rolled on the ground several times before crashing into a wall and finally stopping.

Good, one down...

As the commander thought this and was about to turn to the next enemy,

The assailant he had thrown against the wall suddenly stood up. Building debris from his head and shoulders cascaded down.

"Don't interfere, just retreat."

Despite the assailant's words, other Earthlings shouted something, but the commander couldn't hear well.

Was this assailant also trying to buy time for his comrades like himself?

Meeting such an honorable enemy on Earth, the commander smiled and lifted his mace.

"I am the commander of the Imperial Knights, and the foremost sword of His Majesty the Emperor. And you are?"

The Earthling with golden eyes spat out blood-stained spit and raised his sword.

"...Thousand."

"Any titles or ranks?"

"..."

"This really isn't a match."

Thousand seemed momentarily at a loss for words, then seeing his comrades escaping, he replied,

"Janitor of the Month, Liberator of Dragons, disciple of Corvus, and... um, Saint's... no, forget that..."

Clearly trying to stall for time, but the commander did not fault him.

Similarly, his own comrades were also gaining time to escape.

After a moment, a fellow named Yeomyeong spoke,

"...Seti's lover."

"Excellent. After this fight, I will personally send a flower to your lover."

With that romantic declaration, both men kicked off the ground, lunging into action.