My Ex-Girlfriend Was Appointed as a Knight Commander

Chapter 134

"Hans... he didn’t make it back."

That was the outcome Dennis Amber received after sending his first recruit to join a far-off expedition. The youngest knight of the Royal Guard, dispatched to a no-man's land as additional reinforcements, never returned from the battlefield—not even as a body. The shock of losing a comrade for the first time. Dennis Amber buried the scar it left on his heart, never allowing himself to examine it, to keep his motivation from permanently faltering.

He had to endure.

Meanwhile, the palace had already been infiltrated by the influence of the second prince, who had brought the Bening faction into their midst. Many of Dennis’s old comrades from the First Guard, including his recruits, were never coming back. Nothing, no one, could he protect. So Dennis laughed on the outside while clinging desperately to his sword with everything he had.

Eventually, another recruit joined his ranks, even though he wished it would never happen again.

A knight with long black hair and a peculiar aura.

The new recruit, who introduced himself as Arsen Bern, was strikingly powerful. Though he seldom revealed his full swordsmanship skills, the techniques Arsen occasionally displayed in training were at a level that Dennis could barely keep up with. The fact that the King himself personally summoned Arsen made it clear he was no ordinary recruit.

Dennis treated him indifferently, trying not to grow attached. Yet, over time, as they trained together and he saw Arsen’s skills and dedication, Dennis found himself caring deeply for his new recruit. Even if Arsen Bern wasn’t truly meant to be his successor, Dennis treated him as though he were.

And so, when Dennis saw that his opponent in the quarterfinals would be Javier Franco, he felt relieved. Javier’s swordsmanship was rife with enough killing intent to kill anyone, and if Javier was a knight of Leon Bening, there was no telling what dirty tricks he might try during the match.

And thus, Dennis faced off against Javier Franco.

Though his body was riddled with holes, blood pouring down, he never let go of his sword. He had to win here. He had to defeat that man.

When Dennis came to his senses, he found himself lying on the ground, with Javier Franco approaching, sword in hand. With his vision blurring, Dennis glanced at the spectator seats. There, he saw Charlotte and Maxime sitting in their seats. But what caught his eye next was something he never could have imagined.

Dennis blankly stared at the black sword embedded in the ground before him. Someone had thrown it, stopping Javier’s advance in his tracks.

Ah.

Dennis’s eyes widened, and the world regained its normal pace. The sound of the crowd murmuring in confusion and the referee shouting in panic reached his ears.

"Match suspended!!"

Dennis felt the strength leaving his body. He had thought Arsen acted solely out of duty, but the look on Arsen’s distorted face suggested there was more to it than that. Interfering in the middle of a martial arts tournament. Getting disqualified from the tournament was the least of the issues; there would likely be much bigger consequences afterward.

He couldn’t let him go—he should have been the one to stop this.

With this thought, Dennis glared at Javier standing over him, even as event staff rushed into the arena. Two of them hurriedly helped Dennis up.

"Let’s get you to the waiting room... no, the infirmary would be better."

Even as he was escorted by the staff, Dennis kept his eyes fixed on the two swords embedded in the arena. His consciousness was fading, but he refused to pass out. He pushed the two staff members off and insisted on walking out of the arena himself.

If he collapsed now, the victory would automatically be awarded to Javier Franco.

And so, Dennis, dripping blood, trudged toward the waiting room tunnel.

==

Maxime stood frozen in place, holding Baek-Ah in one hand, locked in an ungraceful stance that would have embarrassed him if anyone were watching. But he had no time to worry about the stares of others. His gaze was captured completely by a sword that had been thrown before he could act.

"Senior, was that just...?"

Christine, wide-eyed after witnessing what had happened, looked at Maxime in astonishment. Maxime lowered Baek-Ah. The audience’s eyes weren’t on him but on the jet-black sword embedded in the center of the arena. Charlotte, similarly in disbelief, had her eyes wide open.

"That sword..."

"I think I’ve seen it before. Isn’t that the black sword Theodora Bening used?"

"Hey, yeah! You’re right. But why is her sword stuck there in the arena?"

"Idiot, it’s there because someone threw it, obviously."

Why?

Maxime couldn’t find the words, his gaze fixed on the pitch-black sword in the arena. Could Theodora have sensed Javier’s murderous intent? But even if she had, why would she risk everything to interfere in the match...?

The murmurs among the crowd grew louder. Maxime noticed that the tournament staff were hurriedly rushing somewhere, with people hastily clearing the way. He caught sight of their anxious expressions as they passed by.

Are they going to bring Theodora in? Unconsciously, Maxime began to move. He had no time to think. Christine grabbed onto his sleeve, and Maxime paused to look back at her. She was holding onto him firmly, her expression serious. Maxime placed his hand over hers, intending to remove it when—

"Senior!"

After a short ride, the carriage arrived at a building that served as headquarters for the tournament organizers. The retainer opened the carriage door and bowed.

"I will lead you to the Count."

The servant quickened his pace, and Theodora followed, her face stoic. She was anxious to see how Leon Bening would respond to this open defiance. Eventually, she found herself at the door to his office.

"Come in."

The Count’s voice was as even as expected, giving no hint of anger or indifference. Whether he was furious that his plans had been ruined or felt nothing at all was impossible for Theodora to tell. She entered the room, and as soon as the door closed behind her, Leon Bening spoke. His first words were unexpected, bearing no relation to the current situation.

"What were you thinking?"

Leon Bening’s tone was cold, demanding an answer. But Theodora didn’t flinch, responding sharply.

"What were you thinking, trying to have him killed?"

"It was necessary, an unavoidable choice to secure victory for myself and for the Bening family. Surely you, Theodora, understand that much by now?"

"I have no desire to understand you or your intentions."

"The tournament will continue, regardless."

Leon Bening’s gaze was icy. Theodora bit her lip.

"The rules..."

"If you truly wish everything to proceed by the book, then I can arrange that. Along with the disbanding of your Raven Guard."

"You were the one who insisted that each individual is accountable for their actions in the tournament."

Leon Bening tilted his head.

"The rules that apply to me are not the same as the rules that apply to you, Theodora. Do you truly want to see where your little rebellion leads?"

Theodora remained silent, but Leon Bening continued, unaffected by her lack of response.

"All your actions will be overlooked. You will proceed as planned to the semi-final, and soon enough, this incident will fade from everyone’s memory."

Leon closed the folder he’d been reading with a loud snap.

"Don’t even think about forfeiting, Theodora. I don’t want to turn my daughter into an enemy."

"...I didn’t think you’d stoop so low."

Her voice trembled, but Leon merely shrugged.

"Just win. If you do as I say, you’ll get what you want. But if you ignore my warning again, daughter..."

Leon lowered his voice.

"I’ll leave it to your imagination what awaits you."

Theodora bit her lip. She hadn’t thrown Black Wolf for this—to listen to her father’s threats again. She had acted to break free from the shackles of her father.

I’ll win. But afterward, you’ll regret making me the champion.

"...If I win,"

She said, her voice steady but laced with defiance.

"Do you really think things will go as you wish?"

Leon regarded her for a moment. The frightened little girl was gone, replaced by a platinum hawk seeking freedom from her gilded cage.

Leon Bening shook his head, seeing the need to lock that bird away again. And he knew exactly where to find the key.

"The moment you reach the final, the tournament will already be over, Theodora."

Leon’s words were loaded with meaning. Not wanting to hear any more, Theodora turned and left his office. Once she was gone, he muttered the rest of his message to her empty seat.

"Because your opponent will forfeit the final... or simply not show up."