The Adventures of an Overpowered Knight in Another World Chapter 713- Divine Paladin, Sword Saint

In that moment, Reinhardt had no idea how significant a role that simple piece of cloth would play in the future.

Years later... Blood soaked the earth. Comrades fell one after another and darkness swallowed the skies.

Just when his body finally collapsed upon the battlefield during the expedition that the world remembered as the Bloody Rain, it was this promise... this simple strip of cloth tied around his arm that became one of the reasons he continued struggling against death.

One of the reasons why he refused to close his eyes. He crawled forward even when his spirits lay shattered, and every part of his body screamed for him to stop, to get out of the godforsaken land.

Later, fate guided him toward his mentor.

Having survived the tragedy, Reinhardt, whose spirits were broken, encountered a wandering retired knight named Tollivar Stout in a remote village.

Unlike his father and other instructors who had tempered him through discipline and responsibility, Tollivar was freedom incarnate.

He travelled wherever his feet took him, carrying only a hammer, a flask, and stories from every corner of the continent.

Their meeting had been accidental and left behind lessons that Reinhardt would carry for the rest of his life.

Swordsmanship, battle instincts, survival... and most importantly, ideals that would one day shape the man known as the Divine Paladin.

These things were something that could never be learned inside training grounds or classrooms.

Although Tollivar never formally accepted disciples, he eventually snorted one day while drinking beside a campfire.

"If anyone asks, tell them you’re only half my disciple. I don’t want the responsibility of being blamed when you eventually surpass me."

Reinhardt laughed. Half disciple... It was a strange title. Yet one he treasured deeply.

Reinhardt learned under him for half a year. And then it was finally time to go back.

The scattered members of the Allied Knight Order had returned to their kingdom, homes and to the people who were waiting for them.

Of course, the cruelty of things could not be changed. Out of the tens of thousands of knights of the Allied Knight Orders who had marched into the Tainted Lands with banners flying proudly beneath the skies, only a fraction returned.

Even the ones who returned returned broken. Some had lost limbs, some had lost comrades, while some had lost their minds.

The scenes they saw deep inside the Tainted Lands left a permanent scar in all of them.

Not to mention the many names that were listed as dead or missing.

The account of the survivors made the possibility of survival even less likely. The news spread throughout the continent like wildfire. Everyone mourned the losses they suffered.

Blueberry Town received the news three days after the Bloody Rain incident. Nobody spoke for a long time.

The old people sighed, the children cried, Silas silently crushed the paper in his hand. Drystan stared toward the horizon.

As for Aurelia, she refused to believe any of it. "A mistake. They made a mistake."

Nobody knew what to say to her.

Weeks passed. Then months.

The survivors continued to recount the horrors they saw. At some point, after waiting so long, even Silas knew that the probability of Reinhardt returning alive was low.

The villagers urged her to stop, to accept reality. But Aurelia never listened.

She waited. Sometimes beside the gates, sometimes near the church or sometimes near the road leading into town. Through rain, snow and storms... She never stopped believing in him.

Drystan watched all of this in silence. More than once, he wanted to tell her to stop, but the words never reached his throat.

One day, he sat beside her, staring idly at the town gate.

"Did he promise he will come back?"

Aurelia nodded. "He did. He promised me".

"In that case, you should go back, don’t worry, I’ll wait here in your stead. When he comes back, I will drag him back straight to you".

Drystan spoke, flexing his muscles.

Hearing his words, Aurelia’s eyes brightened, and she couldn’t help but ask. "You believe he’ll come back, too?"

"Hmph, that guy? He’s the man who beat me black and blue in front of an entire town. He became the children’s goal. He stole my sister’s heart. He even had the nerve to become my rival"...

"There is no way a monster like him dies that easily. I have so many scores to settle with him".

Aurelia laughed through her tears. Together, they waited.

Half a year quickly blew by.

And then one ordinary afternoon. Near the entrance of the town, a lone figure arrived. He had golden hair, his armour, and there were quite a few scars that had not existed before on his body.

His body looked thinner, and his eyes had a newfound resolve. The man had changed quite a lot over the years, yet his smile remained the same.

Aurelia, who had been waiting for him all this time, stood there in a daze. Her eyes never left him as if afraid that blinking would make the illusion disappear. Afraid that reality would once again prove cruel.

Then, Reinhardt slowly lifted his arm, showing the cloth tied to his wrist that fluttered gently in the wind.

Seeing the faded piece of fabric she had tied on his wrist there before the expedition. The proof of their promise, Aurelia’s eyes couldn’t help but tear up.

Reinhardt started awkwardly.

"I..."

But before he could finish, a blur rushed forward. And the next thing he knew, Aurelia dove into his arms. Crying, laughing and hitting his chest.

She held onto him tightly as if she would never let go again.

"You liar... You took too long... I was... worried that you would never..."

She could not complete her sentence and broke down crying.

Reinhardt slowly wrapped his arms around her. For the first time since surviving the hell known as the Bloody Rain, he finally felt like he had returned home.

Far away, Drystan looked toward the sky and clicked his tongue. "Took you long enough, idiot."

Yet despite his words... The smile on his face never disappeared.

.

One by one, everyone gathered near the town’s gate, revelling in the celebration. That day, the entire town celebrated the return of a hero.

It went on from the afternoon till late at night.

The reunion celebrations had barely settled when Drystan appeared before Reinhardt with a sword resting on his shoulder.

"Come with me to the empty ground". His expression was serious.

Reinhardt looked at him before smiling faintly. He knew what the man was here for. A challenge.

Standing on the empty field, the two faced each other.

"Let’s see how much progress you have made".

Hearing this, Drystan snorted. "Don’t look down on me. You should be careful. I’m not the same man you fought a few years ago. I’ve become much, much stronger."

The confidence in his voice was not arrogance. It was conviction. The conviction of countless days of training.

Gruelling days spent covered in blood, sweat and effort, and the mentality that made him refuse to stop moving forward.

Reinhardt looked at him for a long moment before smiling. Then he slowly unsheathed his sword.

"Good, let’s go".

The battle began. Steel rang endlessly. Shockwaves spread in every direction.

Sometimes the battle unfolded on the ground; sometimes it moved onto rooftops. Both figures could be seen exchanging dozens of blows while running across walls or leaping between buildings.

The townsfolk gathered from afar to watch.

The battle continued until morning.

Drystan lay on the ground, in the middle of the field. His chest rose and fell violently. Although he lost, a bright smile was plastered on his face.

Not far from him stood Reinhardt. Unlike Drystan, the expression on his face was not of a victor but rather covered in astonishment.

After stepping into Level 9... Reinhardt had believed that defeating Drystan would be simple.

Just like their previous matches, which ended up with his complete victory. However, he had been completely mistaken.

Drystan had grown; no, that wasn’t enough to describe it. The young man had transformed.

Not only had he mastered the advanced swordsmanship of the Temple of Light, but he also completely mastered the skills of the knight that even some veteran knights struggled with.

He had integrated all of them into his own combat style perfectly. Every strike flowed naturally into the next, and every move carried purpose.

Most shocking of all, Drystan had already stepped into Level 8.

A Level 8 swordsman in his early twenties.

Even among the Temple of Light, or rather in all of Solaris, such talent was extremely rare. Reinhardt looked at the exhausted man lying on the ground and laughed helplessly.

During the entire battle, he had not gained nearly as much advantage as he expected. In fact, there had been moments when even he had been forced to take things seriously.

"Bastard..." Drystan’s voice sounded from the ground.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"I wanted to punch you at least once."