Killed by the Love I Believed In, I Shatter Everything with a Greatsword - The Judgment at White Hawk Castle

His left flank burned as if on fire. Allen gritted his teeth. Each time he tightened the cloth wrapping, the white fabric seeped red. The wound still hadn't closed. But there was no time left. (...What does it matter.) Morning light streamed through the gaps in the collapsed wall, illuminating the inside of the abandoned house in pale white. Beneath the rubble, dried bloodstains clung black and crusted—traces of last night's battle. Allen stood up. He reached inside his jacket. A bundle of papers sewn into the lining. Copies of ledgers. Assassination orders. Threat letters. And—that record, with his sister's name carved into it. Everything was here. (*Milia...*) He rolled his sister's name around in his mouth. He no longer spoke it aloud. Allen left the abandoned house. Morning in the royal capital, Legrand. In the lower district's streets, day laborers were beginning to gather. In front of the tavern "The Bent Chimney," the owner Dario glanced at Allen. The one-eyed giant of a man said nothing. He simply shook his head slowly. (*Don't do it.*) That's what it seemed to say. Allen passed by in silence. He headed north. Toward White Hawk Castle—the royal palace. He passed through the middle district and approached the gate to the upper district. Three guards stood at the stone gate from morning. Their silver breastplates bore the royal crest—a hawk with outstretched wings. Allen removed his hood. Tattered servant's clothes. Black hair grown to his shoulders. A scar on his left cheek. Sharp, gray eyes. One of the guards grimaced. "Hey, today's the engagement celebration banquet. No one unrelated gets through." "Delivery worker." Allen answered curtly. He showed a wooden tag pulled from his pocket—a merchant's cargo tag for transporting wine barrels, picked up in the lower district. The guard stared at the tag for a moment, then looked Allen up and down. "...For a barrel hauler, your eyes are way too intense." "Lack of sleep." Silence. Eventually, the guard sighed. "Go on through. But try anything funny and we'll throw you out immediately." Allen nodded and passed through the gate. The air in the upper district was sweet. The scent of flowers drifted on the wind. Well-maintained cobblestone paths. Waterways flowing with clean water. Everything was a world adorned with gold and power. White Hawk Castle was a massive fortress built of white granite. Five towers soared toward the sky, and at the grand staircase in front, carriages of nobles were already forming a line. Nobles dressed in colorful clothes streamed inside one after another, laughing. (*The front gate's impossible.*) Allen circled around to the back of the castle. Delivery workers had gathered at the rear entrance. Men carrying barrels and wooden crates came and went, sweating. Allen silently blended into the line. No one took interest in a single servant. A stone corridor leading to the kitchen. Damp air mixed with the scent of freshly baked bread. At that moment— A woman appeared from around the corner of the corridor. A white apron. A silver tray in her hands. A young serving girl with chestnut hair tied back. She looked up. Her eyes met Allen's. It was Ella. That servant from two years ago—the one who had spoken about the Fernan family's ledgers and been driven out. The woman who had tremblingly handed over copies of the ledgers in the lower district. Ella's eyes widened. "Ah..." A sound escaped her. The silver tray trembled slightly with a clatter. Allen silently pressed a finger to his lips. (*Keep quiet.*) Ella caught her breath for a moment. Then, slowly, she nodded. With a trembling hand, she pointed deeper down the passage. "...Turn right up ahead. It's a back way to the great hall." "Make sure no one sees you." Allen nodded just once. "...Sorry." Just one word. He said only that and began walking. Ella stood frozen, watching Allen's retreating figure. The bloodstains seeping through his back. His awkward, limping gait. He was clearly not in any normal condition. (*That person... he's hurt again.*) A sharp pain tightened deep in her chest. But she couldn't call out to stop him. He was trying to walk his own path. Ella bit her lip and looked down. He advanced down the corridor. Turned right, climbed a long staircase. His left flank throbbed with sharp, stabbing pain. Allen placed a hand against the wall and steadied his breathing for a moment. Blood oozed between his fingers. (*...Will I last.*) He asked himself. But the answer had long been decided. Even if he didn't last, he would only press on. He arrived before the doors of the great hall—the Hall of Mirror Wings. A murmur could be heard from within. The chatter of hundreds of nobles. The clinking of glasses. The strains of string instruments. Allen pushed open the doors. Light flooded out. A massive chandelier blazed with hundreds of candles. Golden ornaments adorned the white walls. On the dais at the far end, the royal crest was displayed. Before it stood the king's proxy, awaiting the two figures. Lilia. And—Diethart. In the center of the great hall, the two faced each other. Lilia was clad in a pure white dress, her radiant platinum blonde hair elegantly pinned up high. Her deep emerald-green eyes held a gentle light. The perfect image of a bride. Diethart took her hand. The murmuring quieted. The elderly king's proxy opened his mouth. "Henceforth, the engagement between His Majesty's younger brother, Diethart Brenheim, and Lady Lilia Fernan—" That was when it happened. Allen advanced through the crowd. The nobles parted way. Some furrowed their brows at the appearance of an unfamiliar servant. Others grimaced at the smell of blood. The murmuring spread like a wave. Allen stood in the center of the hall. Directly before him—Lilia. Lilia's eyes caught Allen. —In that instant. Her perfect smile froze. For just a moment. Just a single moment, something cracked deep within those emerald eyes. But she immediately donned her mask again. A look of bewilderment settled on her face. "...Who might you be?" A sweet, demure voice. But Allen did not answer. He pulled the bundle of papers from inside his jacket. He held the first sheet high. "Copies of ledgers." His voice echoed through the hall. "Records of the Fernan family's backdoor dealings over the past two years." The murmuring grew louder. "March of last year. The assassination of Baron Helmut Werner. Payment to the Iron Lid Troupe—three hundred gold coins." Allen read out flatly. "June of last year. Threats against Baroness Frieda Olsen. Hostage: her eldest daughter, Katarina. The text of the threat letter—'If you value your daughter's life, relinquish the rights to your territory.'" "Wha—!" One of the nobles gasped. A relative of Baron Helmut. "September of last year. The bribery of Councilor Albert Schneider. Amount of the bribe—eight hundred silver coins." Allen's voice was cold and quiet. One by one, holding up the evidence, he read the crimes aloud. Lilia's face grew paler by the moment. "Stop this!" Her voice cracked slightly. "It's all fabricated! This man holds a grudge against me and has forged false evidence—" Allen held up the final sheet. His hand trembled faintly. "Three years ago. The murder of the family of Allen Kreutz, apprentice of the Demonforge Order. Executor—Galt Becken. Compensation—fifty silver coins." The hall fell deathly silent. "Half a year ago. The murder of Milia Kreutz—age nine. Executor—Galt Becken. Compensation—forty silver coins." Allen's voice did not waver to the end. Silence. A heavy, heavy silence enveloped the great hall. The color had completely drained from Lilia's face. She tried to open her mouth, but no words came. Her fingers were clenched so tightly they turned white. At that moment— "...Let me see that." It was a quiet voice. Diethart stepped forward. "I want you to show me that evidence." Allen wordlessly held out the bundle of papers. Diethart carefully examined them one by one. The numbers in the ledgers. The dates on the assassination orders. The Fernan family seal. The expression faded from his face. A long silence. Eventually, Diethart looked up. "...It's genuine." His voice was surprisingly calm. "The seal on the ledgers belongs to the Fernan family. The dates on the assassination orders match the days nobles actually went missing. This... cannot possibly be a fabrication." The hall erupted in commotion. Lilia's face contorted. "Lord Diethart...!" A clinging, desperate voice. But Diethart did not look at Lilia. In his blue eyes floated deep sorrow—and something more. "I believed in you." Diethart spoke quietly. "I believed in you. That is precisely why—I cannot forgive this evidence." Lilia's expression changed in an instant. The mask completely fell away. "Guards!!" Her scream rang throughout the hall. "Seize this man! Now!!" Soldiers poured in from all sides of the great hall. Ten of them. Their demonforge swords emitted a pale blue light. Allen extended his right hand forward. "—Come forth." Black light gathered in his palm. A pitch-black vortex transformed in an instant into a greatsword. Its jet-black blade swallowed the chandelier's light. The nobles screamed and recoiled. Idea Forging. The soldiers charged all at once. The first— Allen kicked off the floor. A tearing pain erupted from his left flank. He ignored it. He struck the soldier's chest with the flat of his blade. *THUD.* The armor caved in, and the man was sent flying. The second— A soldier slashed at him from behind. Without turning, Allen thrust his sword backward. It struck the man's stomach, and he collapsed with a groan. The third, the fourth— Allen did not stop. Blood spurted from his wound. His clothes grew redder and redder. Still, he did not halt his steps. (*Milia...*) His sister's face surfaced in his mind. (*Just a little more.*) The fifth, the sixth— The great hall had become a battlefield. Tables overturned. Glasses shattering. The nobles fled to the walls, merely trembling. When he sent the seventh soldier flying with the flat of his blade, the remaining soldiers retreated. At Allen's feet lay seven fallen soldiers. A pool of blood spread across the white marble floor. Ragged breathing. His vision swayed faintly. (*...Not yet.*) Allen raised his head. Straight ahead—Lilia. Her face was twisted in terror. The perfect mask was nowhere to be seen. Her makeup was ruined by tears, her lips trembling. Backing away, she screamed something. "Stay away... stay away from me...!" Allen drew closer, step by step. "Monster...! You...!" The cold voice that had worn authority was gone. All that remained was pure terror. Pure weakness. Lilia's legs tangled, and she collapsed to the floor. Allen stood before her eyes. He raised the greatsword high. The black blade reflected Lilia's face, twisted in fear. She trembled soundlessly, merely staring up at him. Her face, hideously ruined by the mixture of tears and makeup, was watched by everyone in the hall. (*Two years ago...*) In Allen's mind, that day came rushing back. His family's death. Lilia's sneer. The fall from the cliff. Two years of hell. Everything was for this moment— (*...Sister.*) Milia's name surfaced. She was nine years old. A smile suited her so well. She was gone now. Allen's hand stopped. The greatsword trembled in the air. If he brought the blade down, everything would end. His revenge would be complete. But— (*...What would that end.*) Even he didn't know. The hand gripping the sword lowered slightly. The great hall was utterly silent. Everyone watched, holding their breath. The fallen soldiers. The trembling nobles. Diethart, his expression filled with sorrow. And—Allen. The demon of vengeance simply stood there, frozen. Greatsword still in hand. Repeating his sister's name over and over in his heart.

日本語

What is Novelia? →

Episode 6

Name: Killed by the Love I Believed In, I Shatter Everything with a Greatsword
Author: Novelia

What is Novelia?

Novelia is an AI-powered platform to read original light novels and fan fiction, create your own in just a few taps, and chat with the characters. New, illustrated episodes arrive daily — free to start.

Learn more about Novelia →New sign-ups get 5,000pt