Kays Translations
Just another Isekai Lover~
Chapter 67: The Broken Knight
“How is he, Catherine?”
“He’s coming along perfectly! I’m adjusting his stamina just right. He should be dead by the time the Imperial Sword Martial Festival ends.”
“Well done, Catherine. Looks like the other one is doing his job too.”
Catherine reported to Odin, who gazed out the window.
The imperial capital was in a festival frenzy.
Every year, the Imperial Sword Martial Festival was a grand celebration of the KOG, but this year, the excitement was even greater.
Nobles and tourists from all over Asgard poured in.
All to witness the turning point of an era.
“Tomorrow is the day. I hear Lord is returning as well. As expected of my brother—he actually conquered that battlefield in just a week.”
“The seeds we planted for Lord-sama seem to have been put to good use. It’s truly delightful.”
The battlefield where Lord had been sent was originally prepared for a different operation.
If Odin had determined that a coup was imminent, Lord would have been led there and killed.
But since Lord never showed any sign of rebellion, it was never put to use. And now, with victory assured, such measures were unnecessary.
Odin hadn’t expected Lord to challenge them without using any military force, but in the end, it meant there was less damage on their side.
“Yes, tomorrow everything will be decided. Though Osiris’s victory is already guaranteed. No one could ever defeat him anyway.”
“Indeed. Just yesterday, he fought every single Holy Knight Commander in the capital and emerged victorious. The title of Sword Saint isn’t just for show. As expected of your knight, Odin-sama.”
“You’ve made sure Osiris doesn’t hear about this, right? He’s strict about underhanded tactics. Knights in general are like that. He’ll fight if I order him to, but I’d rather he do so without any doubts holding him back.”
“Yes, Lord Osiris has spent the past week training in seclusion, like a monk in the mountains. Keeping information from him was easy. He’ll cut through his opponent with a single stroke. He’s been completely isolated until the festival.”
“I see. That makes it all the more exciting.”
…
“Hey! Are you listening? Hey!”
(…Someone’s talking… I can’t understand them.)
Then, Lielbert supported Kenya and asserted.
“With this fever, his life is in danger! The interrogation should be stopped immediately!”
Kenya’s condition had worsened daily.
And today, Lielbert finally pleaded for a halt.
“Hmph, I suppose it’s time. Enough—throw him back into his cell. Release him tomorrow morning. Let him fight to his heart’s content.”
At last, the interrogations ended on the eve of the Imperial Sword Martial Festival.
“Understood.”
Kenya collapsed, unable to stand anymore.
His fever had risen further, and he hadn’t slept at all.
Despite vomiting blood, he received no treatment—forced to stand for days, his body was in ruins.
Eventually, he lost consciousness and was thrown into his cell.
(It’s… so cold. Where… am I? What was I doing?)
A body weakened by sickness, exhaustion from being forced to stand, a freezing prison, malnourishment, and increasing doses of poison.
“Cough! Cough!”
Kenya had developed pneumonia. The poison had severely inflamed his stomach.
Every cough spread the taste of blood in his mouth, and vomiting blood became frequent.
Watching him from outside the cell was a single woman.
“Oh dear, did I overdo it? But there’s just one day left, so I think it’s perfect. My talent is terrifying.”
She knelt by Kenya, who lay curled up, unable to move, and whispered in his ear.
“Just hang on a little longer. And make sure to die as disgracefully as possible. It’s for the good of the world. Ahaha! Ahhh, I love breaking arrogant little brats.”
Catherine left the cell in high spirits.
Leaving Kenya alone on the cold stone floor.
…
The Morning of the Imperial Sword Martial Festival
(So hard… to breathe… Why am I like this… again?)
Alone in the darkness, Kenya wandered.
His consciousness had drifted away. This was a dream.
But he didn’t know that.
(Why… am I suffering like this? I can’t remember.)
His body and mind had been worn down to the point of near-total collapse.
But there was one thing he still knew.
(I have to win. I have to win.)
Why?
He didn’t know.
Why was he fighting?
Who was he supposed to fight?
His thoughts wouldn’t connect.
His body felt unbearably heavy.
All he wanted was to sleep.
…
“Sword Sylphid is cleared of any suspicions of treason. Thank you for your cooperation.”
With that, the soldiers handed Kenya over to Lord and Reina in front of the military facility.
“Sword!”
“Big brother!”
“…Lord… Reina…?”
Lord and Reina ran to him, supporting his broken body.
His voice was hoarse, his face pale as a sheet.
Hearing their voices, Kenya’s dim consciousness stirred.
Then Lord lifted his face, his expression laced with fury.
His gaze locked onto—
“Lielbert… Explain. I received no reports. All I was told was that he was just sleep-deprived.”
Standing before him was the golden-haired, bespectacled honor student.
Lielbert—who was supposed to be working as Road’s spy.
Lord’s voice trembled with anger, demanding an explanation.
But—
“…Lord-sama, thank you for everything.”
Lielbert bowed, his voice devoid of warmth.
His face and tone were so chillingly cold that Lord immediately understood everything.
“…Since when?”
Even so, he didn’t want to believe it.
“From the very beginning. Everything. Truly from the very beginning. Ever since that day, when my parents were burned alive by those EU bastards during the Great EU War.”
“…I see. I really have no eye for people. No wonder I can’t even make a single friend. To think you were betraying me all along.”
“If only you were a pure-blooded Asgardian… No, there’s no point in saying that now. Just talking to you, someone with EU blood running through your veins—someone with filthy blood—makes me sick. But rest assured, up until today, I have truly served you with sincerity.”
With that, Lielbert turned his back.
For a long time, he had served as one of Lord’s subordinates.
But in reality, he was Odin’s agent.
A boy consumed by hatred for the EU, he had been used by Odin, becoming a double agent within Lord’s faction.
Etched into his heart were the screams of his parents—tortured and killed during the war against the EU when he was just a child.
Odin had skillfully exploited that hatred, and Lielbert had dedicated himself to his revenge, working as a double spy.
Because of that, Lord’s faction had been kept completely in the dark about what had happened in the Inquisition.
“Ugh… cough cough!”
Kenya coughed up blood.
Seeing this, Reina shouted in outrage.
“Don’t mess with me! Do you have any idea what’s happening today, right now?!”
She glared at Lielbert and the soldiers, her voice low and threatening.
“We only conducted an interrogation. If he fell ill, that’s his own fault. You should be the one to understand. Do you know who’s fighting today? And what happens to the loser?”
The soldier spoke with no respect for Lord anymore.
He was one of Odin’s men.
Confident that Odin would emerge victorious today, he knew Lord would soon be cornered.
That’s why he no longer showed Lord any deference, speaking to him with intimidation.
Today, on this very day, Lielbert had severed ties with Lord.
He had spent years building up trust—only to use it all now, on this decisive day, as one of Odin’s most effective cards.
“Mark my words. You’ll never be able to take back what you just said. And Lielbert—”
“I return those words to you, Lord.”
Lord loaded Kenya into the car.
“Go. To the venue.”
“!? …Lord! You can’t! Not in this condition! We have to postpone—postponing is the only option!”
“We can’t do that. You saw yesterday’s broadcast, didn’t you? The world won’t wait anymore.”
“Th-That’s…”
“Kenya, can you fight?”
“…Yeah.”
His voice was weak.
There was no strength in it, no conviction.
With only a few hours until the Imperial Sword Festival, the world was already in motion.
While Kenya had been imprisoned in the Inquisition, the global situation had changed drastically.
Kenya knew nothing about it.
And Lord had no intention of telling him now.
Because, at the very least, he wanted Kenya to focus on the battle ahead.
He placed all his hopes on his battered knight.
“We’re here, Kenya.”
The place they arrived at—
It was a coliseum, like something straight out of the medieval era.
A massive stadium, large enough for KOG warriors to battle each other year after year during this traditional festival.
It looked like a soccer stadium, yet it was meant for combat.
The three entered through the participants’ entrance.
“Kenya, please! We have to stop! If you die… then none of this will mean anything!”
“I’m fine. Cough cough! I can manage at least one fight. Besides… I have to fight today, don’t I, Lord?”
From the fragmented conversation he overheard in the car,
Kenya understood that today was a turning point.
There must be a reason.
“…Yeah. If we miss today, my brother will take control of the Empire. And then, billions will die, and tens of billions will be enslaved. Including the people you want to protect.”
“…Then I gotta… *cough* …keep going.”
“Lord! Why… why are you saying this?! Why won’t you stop him…? Why won’t you save him?”
Tears streamed down Reina’s face.
Why wasn’t Lord stopping Kenya?
How could he let him fight in this condition?
“He’ll die! Kenya will die! His opponent is the Sword Saint, for god’s sake! *Sob* He… he can’t win in this state…!”
“I’m sorry, Reina. But I have to go.”
And then, Kenya stood up.
On his own feet, trembling—his back looked so fragile, so weak.
Reina could do nothing but watch that back through her tears.
She collapsed onto the floor, staring at the two figures walking away.
Imagining the future ahead, imagining Kenya’s death, she could only sob uncontrollably.
“No… no… don’t go, Kenya…”
Her voice reached him.
But he did not stop.
“I’m sorry, Reina. There are people I want to protect… You and Kaguya. I have to save you both. I have to.”
“Sob… sob…”
Reina could only cry at his words.
In front of her, Lord stood tall, while beside him, Kenya walked forward, supported by his shoulder.
Her voice alone had no power to stop them.
“My bad, Lord. I didn’t think I’d end up fighting in this condition. Never imagined Lielbert would be the enemy.”
“I should be the one apologizing. I was completely fooled. I was so focused on the battlefield, I never truly looked at the people around me… that was my mistake.”
“I see… But even so, *cough*… I’m still on your side. Don’t worry. Even if I’m just a broken knight.”
“…”
Lord’s eyes shimmered with emotion.
But he had no strength left to lift his head, so Kenya never saw his expression.
All Lord could say was—
“Thank you.”
Kenya looked down, smiling.
And together, the battered knight and his lord walked forward, side by side.
Now, Lord had only one person left he could trust—his tattered knight.
Even in this situation, he had to believe.
He couldn’t allow even the slightest doubt about losing.
Until the very end, Lord had to believe in Kenya’s victory.
So the only words he spoke were—
“Win, my knight—Mitsurugi Kenya.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Kenya!”
“Kenya-kun!”
Lord and Kenya arrived at the waiting room.
Inside, Sieg and Issei Tanaka were waiting.
“…Those bastards… Damn it!”
Seeing Kenya’s condition, Sieg clenched his fists and slammed the wall in frustration.
He knew immediately—this was the Inquisition’s doing.
He knew their methods.
And yet, he had let himself feel relieved, thinking that with Org and Lamia’s help, torture had been forbidden.
Now, that relief felt like a bitter mistake.
“Takemikazuchi is in perfect condition, Kenya-kun. But… you’re…”
Tanaka also understood immediately.
In this state, Kenya wasn’t fit to fight.
“I’ll be fine. My arms and legs still move… somehow… ngh… cough!”
Just then, the announcer’s voice echoed through the arena, speaking like a sports commentator.
“And now, it begins! The Imperial Sword Festival!
Today, our empire will crown its next emperor, and you all shall witness history!”
The announcement signaled the start of the Imperial Sword Festival.
A crowd of over ten thousand spectators filled the stadium.
Among them, Odin and the noble families of Asgard watched.
In the opposing waiting room, a lone man slowly opened his eyes, emerging from his meditative state.
“…It’s time.”
The strongest knight in the empire—Osiris Halberd—had awakened.