Curtain Call (1)
On La Mancha, the stage created by the Star of Scorn, Najin could not unfold his own stage. It was not impossible to open a stage on top of a Transcendent's stage, but even that required a gap to slip into.
The Star of Scorn, Quixote, had no gaps.
That paint-stained stage left no room for anyone else to set foot on it. It functioned only as an exhibition hall for the Star of Scorn's delusions.
And on that stage, the Star of Scorn was the protagonist.
What is a protagonist, a leading role?
Literally, the owner of the role. Stage devices, narrative, narration, direction. Everything on stage exists to make that role shine. It was no different from saying the whole world catered to the lead.
A stage where he stood as the protagonist.
On stage, Quixote always won.
How do you beat him without destroying the stage itself? Najin already knew the answer.
"The Star of Scorn's stage is a play."
"It looks flashy, but in the end it is closer to unraveling 'his own story' to strengthen himself."
"Narrative. Story."
"That ans you have to clash with the story you have built."
His master, the Helt Knight, had said that.
"Obviously, it is difficult."
"I tried too, but failed. The Star of Scorn's twisted self-assurance leaves no room for anyone else to interfere."
"So I smashed his stage."
"I do not think that is the right answer."
He had said he chose the easy road. He could not find a way into the Star of Scorn's stage, so he used the easy thod and broke it. Najin could only smile bitterly at his master calling that easy.
Still, he understood what the man ant.
At the ti, the Helt Knight had clicked his tongue in regret as he said it. He preferred eting an opponent at full power and crushing them head-on, so choosing to break the stage had probably felt like a foul to him.
So Najin...
There was sothing impossible for his master, but possible for him. Najin made his decision.
Boom.
His body restored, Najin kicked off the ground and ran. As he raced, he kept turning over in his mind the thod for breaking this stage.
Kaaaang!
Najin knocked aside the Star of Scorn's spear as it was about to pierce Sancho, then stepped in one pace deeper.
【Land of giants, where giants stomp their feet!】
【There, you took on the body of a giant...】
The stage narration rang out at the sa ti.
Najin listened and exhaled.
"Yes, my lord, you pierced the giant."
Then he cut in.
"I rember it. The mont you burst out laughing in front of giants charging in like waves."
Najin spoke with a grin.
"Co, let us run, those giants are blocking our path...."
The star of Banter shone.
"But who would dare."
Najin slamd aside the Star of Scorn's spear. The stage narration began to shake. He stepped in again without hesitation. The star of Banter engraved in Excalibur blazed fiercely.
"Block Don Quixote, the Ingenious Gentleman of the Quixano Domain?"
Craack! The trajectory drawn by the Star of Scorn's spear shattered. Caught in Najin's rising slash, the spear-path bent and struck empty space. The spear that should have been a Guaranteed Hit missed. The Star of Scorn's eyes went wide.
Najin smiled.
"How could I not know?"
Standing on the stage, Najin shouted.
"I was there too."
Najin had traveled La Mancha as Sancho. Even though he appeared in the final mont as the Free Knight, he had still been there through that whole journey.
That entire journey was inside the star of Banter.
No matter how much the Star of Scorn's stage rejected outside interference, would it reject an actor who had stood on that sa stage? Everything on stage exists for the protagonist, but sotis the spotlight shines on the supporting role too.
And Najin...
"Those were glorious days."
"You."
"Wasn't that true, my lord? Think about it. You dismiss all of this as delusion, but..."
He was not soone who could be explained away as a simple supporting role.
"How could all of this be a delusion?"
Najin threw a question at the protagonist.
"I am standing right here."
Creak, creak-creak, creak. The stage devices spun loudly. It felt like the stage narrator was panicking. The Carnival King could never exclude Najin from this stage.
Because the stars brought by Sancho upheld Najin's existence.
That was the difference between the Helt Knight and Najin. The story Najin had built opened a crack in the Star of Scorn's stage. Standing with one foot in that crack, Najin raised his head.
"My lord."
He asked again.
"What is a knight?"
A question thrown at the protagonist.
If this place was one story, the protagonist had to answer. This ti he was not allowed to brush it off with a sneer. The Knights of La Mancha were watching the Star of Scorn.
Now the spotlight no longer shone only on him. It began to shine on what stood across from the protagonist, the trial he absolutely had to overco.
Because a knight's tale must have trials.
Because an adventure without trials has no value.
Covered in paint, stained, distorted. Even so, the essence of this stage called La Mancha was chivalric literature. In line with that essence, the stage devices began to move with loud clatter.
"If you do not rember."
The Free Knight aid his sword.
"I will make you rember."
Because that was the Free Knight's role.
2.
The shape of the stage changed.
The structure of the story changed.
【A devil's whisper sounds in your ear.】
【But you are a knight!】
【Your spirit is not so weak that you would be fooled by a devil's whisper...】
Boom. Before the narration could continue, Najin charged the Star of Scorn. Then he scoffed. Want to cast as the devil? Try it. Go ahead.
Excalibur shone.
The Free Knight's coat fluttered.
Najin turned over the aning of the role he had been given. He did not just swing his sword. One by one, he drew out the stories he had built and laid them down. The stage narration and Najin's narrative collided.
【Your spear does not stop.】
【The spear-tip of the Ingenious Gentleman of Quixano flashes.】
When it changed the direction of the narrative and attacked Najin,
"That is the spear art Sancho taught you. Your montum was good, my lord, but your technique was lacking. The one who filled that gap was..."
Najin threw Excalibur. In place of Excalibur rising high into the sky, he swung the Lance of the Crossed Star.
"Sancho. Your squire, and your irreplaceable friend."
Najin wielded the spear like Sancho. He had once adventured as Sancho, and copying soone else's movents was never hard for Najin, so imitating Sancho's spear art was not difficult.
"Sancho was your teacher too."
The spear rushing in as if to pierce everything was helplessly knocked aside by Najin's spear. He overlaid it with the story of their sparring days, not a bloody duel ant to kill.
Spear struck spear. No blood sprayed.
Najin searched his mory. Just as the Star of Scorn unfolded his story, Najin unfolded his own.
『Those were joyful days.』
Now Najin no longer needed to speak the lines out loud. The star of Banter replaced narration with laughter. rlin tuned Najin's star and carried the narration onward.
『The first adventure we set out on.』
『We were clumsy.』
『Because we were clumsy, yes, that is why it was fun.』
In Sancho and the Star of Scorn's first adventure, as Don Quixote and Sancho clashed spear and blade, Don Quixote suddenly fell from his mount. His spear stabbed off target and he tumbled across the ground.
Because in that first adventure, Don Quixote had fallen.
He was not used to riding, and ended up rolling on the ground in embarrassing fashion. And the sa went for Najin, who had called forth that story.
Splat!
Najin also failed to handle the spear's weight, lost his balance, and rolled across the ground. He rolled once over the paint-stained earth, then got back up.
『It was not a graceful move.』
『Still, we looked at each other and burst out laughing. Our mud-covered faces were ridiculous.』
The corner of the Star of Scorn's mouth, once filled only with sneers, twitched. Laughing out loud, Najin brushed mud off his face and charged.
【You recall the days when you faced the fallen stars...】
『You recall a happy past.』
rlin stole the Carnival King's narration. Normally she could not have, but too many eyes were watching this stage now.
Sancho, Rocinante, and the Knights of La Mancha.
They continued their own battles while watching Najin and Don Quixote clash. The narration Najin brought forth was not a story that belonged only to two people.
『There were sad days, but you laughed.』
『Pointing toward La Mancha, wherever it might be, you swore to your friends.』
『You said you would adventure toward an ideal land that might not even exist.』
『You said that adventure would surely be joyful.』
The Star of Scorn did not laugh. The clowns who followed him did not laugh either. Yet Najin smiled, and the Knights of La Mancha each added their own words.
"When you suddenly leaped to the top of the tower, I was so shocked. That tower had imprisoned for centuries, and you broke through it that easily."
"Haha! Princess of the lonely tower, if only you had seen my lord climbing it. Know how he did it? He just stuck himself to the wall like a spider and climbed."
"Really? I never heard that one."
"Do not get started. That was hardly his only absurd stunt."
Colliding with clowns, bleeding, limbs broken, they still laughed and chatted. Even in brutal battle, the Knights of La Mancha did not lose their laughter.
"You cannot leave out when we broke through the Heaven-Wandering Star's domain."
"Do not forget when the garden accidentally caught fire and the gardener scread while yanking my lord's beard. I still think about it."
"What about the barber's prank?"
"And when Sancho proudly said, 'I am not like my lord,' then jumped into the labyrinth and got trapped with him anyway."
They laughed and talked.
About those incredible adventures, about traveling with Don Quixote.
The star of Banter shone even brighter.
There did not need to be narration. Sotis a play moved forward with only the actors' lines, no comntary at all. There was no space for narration to cut in between their voices.
"Those were joyful days."
"Monts you could only survive by laughing."
The Star of Scorn covered his ears against their laughter. Following them, Najin recalled the past. He had been there for every mont.
Boom, kaaang!
Najin and the Star of Scorn no longer fought only inside the pit. They shoved each other, blasted each other away, hurled each other, and crossed the battlefield.
Battering Ram.
The Star of Scorn ripped apart the storm made by Najin's spear with a spear-first charge. And waiting for him when he tore through that storm and reached Najin,
Thud.
Was Najin, stamping down and bringing his sword straight down. He compressed sword aura that could have been released across dozens of ters into the blade itself. Wrapped in that compressed aura, Excalibur no longer just shone, it looked like a star.
With a blinding flash, the descending sword shattered the Star of Scorn's charge. Craack, with that sound, the dismounted Star of Scorn slamd into the ground. The earth for dozens of ters caved in, and cracks raced outward.
The impact should have shattered all four limbs.
Thwack!
With paint surging up, the Star of Scorn imdiately reattached his body and grabbed Najin's ankle with a blood-soaked hand. He yanked. At the instant he tried to throw off-balance Najin to the ground, slash, the Star of Scorn's arm was cut off.
"Uha, uhahaha, hahahahahaha!"
The Star of Scorn cackled madly and reached for the severed arm. The mont he grabbed it, he fused it back. Reattaching the arm and charging were one continuous motion.
The Star of Scorn slamd into Najin barehanded.
The mont Najin was knocked back, Rocinante rushed in from behind and struck Najin's body again. As his own steed ca running, the Star of Scorn mounted and accelerated.
"Run, run, run, run!"
He beca a streak of light and charged. Each ti he touched the spear forged from Sancho's lted flesh, Najin's body festered and rotted. But Najin's eyes stayed calm.
A straight-line attack. Repeated again and again.
Najin's eyes did not chase the Star of Scorn. He moved to where the man would arrive one second later. He was done reading him. Done analyzing. Excalibur flashed.
They collided.
First clash, he took the attack head-on. Second clash, he redirected it. Third clash, he countered. Craack, and the Star of Scorn was dismounted. At the mont of dismount, instead of rolling away, the Star of Scorn thrust his spear at Najin.
As if he would even use the motion of falling off his mount.
Najin also swung his sword, ready to sacrifice part of his body if needed.
...Stabbing, slashing, crashing. Exchanges too fast for ordinary eyes to follow continued. Sparks burst several tis every second. Each collision shook the ground with a heavy boom.
【You...】
『This story was not made by you alone.』
rlin blocked the Carnival King's narration. As if reinforcing rlin's narration, Sancho directed the Knights of La Mancha. Clashing with the clowns, they slowly advanced.
『Now, it is Curtain Call.』
Curtain Call.
When a play ends, the actors who appeared in it return to the stage and exit to applause.
"I will go first!"
Those who had traveled with Don Quixote, those actors who had appeared in this story, stepped onto the stage one by one.
『In the Outland, a certain gardener who wished to see a beautiful flower field traveled with you.』
"Catch!"
The gardener threw a large scythe at Najin. The mont Najin caught it, he spun in place. He knew exactly how that man handled this weapon. He had traveled with him and seen it, so Najin moved like the gardener.
The scythe blocked the Star of Scorn's path.
『The barber who lost his head, the priest who could not believe in god, the teacher who failed to protect his students, the knight who never wanted to beco a knight, the immortal who longed for death, and the star who did not want to dream nightmares.』
Weapons that appeared from sowhere filled the space around Najin. They were weapons he had never used before, but when Najin's talent and the stage direction combined, he wielded them freely.
He kicked a spear and sent it flying. Swung a hamr. Heaved up a greatsword, slashed with a dagger, and slamd with a shield.
Borrowing the Knights of La Mancha's equipnt, Najin pressed forward.
Tap.
Soone jumped in beside him.
『Your guide, Rocinante.』
Rocinante swung his staff. Crack, and the donkey under the Star of Scorn started kicking wildly on its own. Unable to endure the mismatched movent, it collapsed in place.
And so an opening appeared.
『Your irreplaceable friend, Sancho Panza.』
Like a streak of light, Sancho pierced into the dismounting Star of Scorn and drove through his wrist. The spear fell from his hand. The spear spinning in midair, the Star of Scorn defenseless.
『And.』
Najin stepped forward.
『The Free Knight who watched over this whole journey...』
Just as the stage was about to close.
【All of this is your delusion.】
The Carnival King pulled out her final asure.
3.
【All of this is your delusion.】
【Those dancing on the stage are rely actors, puppets dancing according to your delusions.】
【Your journey was false.】
【Everything was your dream.】
Just like when she brainwashed Don Quixote.
The Carnival King reduced everything to delusion.
【Delusion, a false journey, a fictional story.】
A wave made of paint swept the stage. The clowns, the Knights of La Mancha, even their stars, all were swept away and subrged in an instant.
Even for the Carnival King, this was her final resort.
For hundreds of years, the Carnival King made the Star of Scorn dream nightmares. She made him believe those nightmares were real, and by doing so kept strengthening his stage.
【Now it is ti to wake from the dream.】
She shattered that herself.
The price would be huge.
The Star of Scorn might lose his rank as a Constellation and beco a Forgotten One. Even so, the Carnival King chose.
Even if it ant losing her last court jester here.
Najin had to die.
The surging paint demoted Najin too into a fictional existence. Trying to tear apart that fiction, the Star of Scorn scread and charged him. His ripped mouth no longer spilled only sneers.
Despair, frustration, screams, pain, emptiness.
A sneer mixed with every emotion rang out. He was laughing as he cried. The stage, looking ready to collapse at any mont, tightened around Najin.
The final blow.
And Najin spoke. He could no longer borrow the narrative power created by the star of Banter, but he did not need to.
"A knight, my lord."
Because what decorates a play's finale should be the lines spoken by its characters.
"One who dreams impossible dreams."
Najin stepped forward.
"One who defeats invincible foes."
He walked toward the screaming Star of Scorn.
"One who endures unbearable pain."
One step, two steps, then Najin kicked off the ground and started running too.
"One who dies for a noble ideal."
Najin did not raise Excalibur. Excalibur, turned into starlight, settled into his body. In Najin's hand was the Lance of the Crossed Star.
Because Lance Charge should be answered with Lance Charge.
"One who keeps faith and reaches the stars."
The stars shone.
The stage demoted Najin as fiction, treated him like a delusion that would vanish if soone waved a hand. Yet Najin smiled at the leading actor on stage.
So what if it was an illusion.
So what if it was a dream, a lie.
A knight who had brought dreams into reality stood right here. For him, reality and dream were not that far apart.
"And one who never loses laughter, no matter when."
The star of Banter created soone's illusion.
"That is a knight's duty."
『No, a knight's privilege!』
An actor who had been on stage from the beginning, one who was almost the true protagonist of this stage yet had not joined the Curtain Call until now, gripped Najin's spear firmly.
『I am the Ingenious Gentleman of La Mancha.』
Holding the spear together with Najin, he shouted.
『The Star of Mirth, Don Quixote!』
The Star of Mirth charged toward the Star of Scorn.
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