I Became a Tin Knight

“Damn it, how could things get so messed up?”

“I told you we should’ve bolted somewhere else! At this rate, we won’t even have a chance to run, and we’ll all get swarmed and killed!”

“Exactly! If we’d moved to the Duke’s territory or Nemea Castle right from the start and rallied there, it would’ve been smooth sailing!”

“Shut up, you moronic idiots!! If we had made such blatant moves, that cunning Empress would have never allowed it! This was the best way to catch her off guard! You all agreed to it and now you’re blaming others?!”

The Elder Council was in a tight spot.

The attempt to suppress the royal family failed, and every report coming in from various places was grim.

Actually, it got to a point where those “grim reports” stopped coming altogether.

They say no news is good news, but applying that saying to this situation was just wishful thinking.

As the council squabbled over their shortcomings and blamed each other, the Council Leader wore a sardonic grin.

From their bloodshot eyes spewing spittle, there was not a shred of dignity left of the empire’s greatest noble family.

After all, dignity and nobility stem from composure, and expecting such from those cornered was out of the question.

In fact, the Duke they had imprisoned hadn’t shown a shred of shame until the very end, making this reasoning a bit less credible, but the Council Leader conveniently ignored that to rationalize himself.

The Duke needed to be labeled as a “foolish family head who ruined his bloodline with poor judgment,” not as a “politician who valued compromise and balance.”

Only then could the uprising they initiated be framed as a noble decision for their bloodline rather than a disgraceful struggle for power.

“Everyone, quiet down. What benefit is there in bickering amongst ourselves right now?”

“Leader.”

“There’s Hilda and Werner inside. They won’t be able to breach this place.”

In Werner’s case, he was half-forced to fight by taking his family hostage, but the Council Leader chose not to address that point.

That would surely be a massive worry later, but if they couldn’t get through this moment, it wouldn’t matter much.

“But if we just sit here and wait, the situation will only worsen. We need a different plan.”

“I have one.”

With that statement, the Council Leader gazed at the ground.

A secret within the Duke’s family, only known to the head of the family or other key figures.

A true last will that was separate from the publicly known testament of the Lion Duke, known only to his biological children.

「─When the crimson-armored angel descends upon this land, open my coffin. So that I may welcome her.」

What the true meaning of that last will was, the descendants did not exactly know.

What they had learned by hiring tight-lipped wizards with exceptional skills was that some unusual magic was placed on the Duke’s resting place and it was something close to resurrection.

However, since both this and that were ambiguously vague traditions, they couldn’t treat it as a core plan, but now, they needed to grab at straws.

If by any chance the Lion Duke truly resurrected in full, he could easily crush the current crisis, and even if it was a temporary and imperfect resurrection, it could still serve as a turning point to change the bizarre current flow.

Of course, this would mean completely disregarding the Lion Duke’s final wish, but… isn’t it all for the family’s sake?

The Council Leader was convinced that he could count on the Duke’s understanding for the sake of posterity.

***

In a one-eyed country, it is said that two-eyed beings are abnormal.

Among a bloodline where most members have outstanding martial talent, having “ordinary talent” itself is a rarity.

Unfortunately, in a negative sense.

Werner von Lenart was precisely such a being.

While his peers toyed with ferocious beasts using their natural physical prowess, he found himself fleeing for his life from the same beasts.

When his fellow trainees were mastering dozens of weapons and picking one to specialize in, Werner couldn’t even fully grasp the basics of a single blunt weapon.

Physical abilities, resistance to poisons, rapid recovery, and an innate sense for martial arts—all attributes his family members possessed, he was never allowed.

Furthermore, Werner’s era was one of war.

Before the Ironblood Emperor’s reign, the Empire and the Magical Kingdom were entrenched in bloody conflict, burying grudges with even more hatred.

The Lion Duke’s bloodline had the duty to protect the Empire, and to fulfill that duty, the young of the bloodline had to burn their lives.

In that environment, Werner continued to fight and somehow managed to survive.

He lacked the talent for flashy and technical swordsmanship, so he wielded the only weapon he was average with—a club.

Through endless assaults and wounds, he instinctively inscribed the skills of self-defense into his body.

Fight, fight, fight, and fight again.

While seniors glancing at him with pity, peers renowned as geniuses, and juniors who ascended much faster than him all fell around him, he kept on surviving.

By the time he’d aged to the point where it would not be strange for an ordinary person to be buried in the ground already, Werner was, for some reason, no longer called a dimwit.

He had become known as the Leather-skinned Nemean Lion, a figure who could not be toppled by any attack, the strongest warrior of the Empire.

Even if the era of strife has ended and his fame was dismissed as ancient history by the youth, the skills and experiences he built up over the years couldn’t just disappear.

Kaaang!

The moment the Tin Knight’s sword slashed at Werner’s shoulder, a sharp metal sound reverberated.

It was not because he wore special armor.

─Concentrating magical power at the point of impact to mitigate damage.

This basic technique, something a warrior wielding magic could do, was merely a result of honing it to the extreme.

The Tin Knight intended to follow up with another attack, but Werner swung his club with all his strength, indifferent.

Rough, simple. But with a trajectory that was highly practical, the club smashed into the Tin Knight’s shield.

Kaaang!

The heavy body of the Tin Knight flew back like an empty tin can.

It was an astonishing amount of force.

The club, slightly larger than a baseball bat, packed enough power to evoke images of a massive wrecking ball used at construction sites.

It was only natural to rip a human body like a water balloon, capable of easily turning any metal into scrap.

What stood out most was that he did not budge in the slightest, even while being attacked.

The Tin Knight took every hit on sheer toughness, swinging his club with steadfast determination was a sight to behold.

In the face of a terrifying offensive that would seem to knock him out with just one solid hit, the Tin Knight…

[‘The Tin Knight’ is astonished, claiming he’s encountered a real-life super armor!]

…was genuinely, seriously, and thoroughly excited.

If it was just a high defense, then he had faced Mombi from the north, but to be honest, her combat skills weren’t particularly extraordinary.

In contrast, the club Werner wielded, though rough, was filled to the brim with martial prowess accumulated through countless experiences.

And while he seemed to be simply charging in due to invulnerability, he was deftly managing his stance and steps to minimize any unnecessary damage.

For the Tin Knight, Werner was indeed an exhilarating opponent.

Magic supplied remotely through a line, the firepower needed to penetrate that golden armor, and the magic used for that.

Calculating the supply and consumption, finding openings, analyzing and strategizing against one powerful boss after another was thrilling beyond words.

On the contrary, Werner had to admit his mistake.

“…This is worse than I anticipated.”

From their first encounter, Werner realized the Tin Knight was a monster.

This was quite an extraordinary realization.

It was rare for someone with no prior knowledge to grasp the Tin Knight’s strength early on.

This was due to the fact that the Tin Knight was a magical automaton.

It was impossible to gauge his strength through conditioning or size, nor could he infer from the magical power his body contained.

Moreover, any characteristics that would naturally show in a human’s posture or behavior could not be revealed through the body of a puppet.

To pinpoint the Tin Knight’s capabilities, Werner’s conclusion was based more on sudden intuition rather than logical reasoning.

This was a hunch only those who had survived countless brushes with death could obtain.

Yet, even Werner didn’t expect this knight to be such a monster. No, he couldn’t.

That much, the Tin Knight’s prowess remained at an otherworldly level.

‘…I never thought I’d be outmatched in combat experience. It’s not just decades; even if one dedicated their entire life to battle, they’d be nowhere close to this knight’s amassed experience.’

Zero.

That was the count of times Werner had successfully landed a hit on the Tin Knight since the battle began.

In simpler terms, it meant he hadn’t landed a single effective strike at all.

One could argue that the Tin Knight hadn’t gotten effective hits on Werner either, but there existed a colossal gap between “being fine after a hit” and “getting knocked out if you make one mistake—and that knight doesn’t give you that mistake.”

Additionally, the Tin Knight was continuously improving his sword skills, shield techniques, and movements in real-time as he pressured Werner.

‘The skills built up are of a straightforward knight, yet the way he employs them is like a hunter specialized in observing the enemy, finding weaknesses, and squeezing the life out of them.’

Werner felt the sting of inevitable defeat.

In the beginning, he had intended to merely deceive the Elder Council before stepping aside, but now it felt like if he fought fairly, his opponent would automatically surpass him.

Moreover, considering the sinister magical power engulfing the mansion and the escalating chaos outside, it seemed the council was coolly observing Werner’s actions, ruling out the possibility of using hostages as leverage.

After smashing various parts of the room during the commotion to eliminate any potential surveillance, Werner decided it was time to withdraw.

“You, no, I commend your skills, my lord.”

Kbang! Scrape!

“It’s difficult to gauge the journey you’ve undertaken. Ordinarily, I’d want to settle this to the end, but the situation is pressing now.”

Kakakakakang! Kangk!

“I shall sheathe my sword now and… catch the instigator…”

Kakakakakakakakakang!

“……”

What’s going on, why isn’t he stopping?

Did he possibly not understand the words I said? It crossed his mind, but considering the Tin Knight’s actions from their first meeting and during the current battle, it clearly illustrated a capability for communication.

So why?

[‘The Tin Knight’ insists this royal mess is for his apprentice, but this is his duty!]

[‘The Tin Knight’ passionately argues that he’d rather skip the dialogue and just get on with the boss fight!]

[‘The Tin Knight’ reflects that pondering whether the enemy is plotting or truly surrendering is less clarifying than just knocking them all down!]

[‘The Tin Knight’ asserts that that lion-like self-defense has to be taught to his disciple because it looks cool!]

[‘The Tin Knight’ bluntly declares he won’t let you go until his technique analysis is complete!]

The Tin Knight’s demon-like eyes gleamed.

The Nemean Lion broke into a cold sweat, shivering.

Though he showed no fear on the blood-soaked battlefield, this kind of madness before him felt different.

Such was the sentiment of those entangled with the Tin Knight.

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