To The Eternal Knight (2 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 1
Something was wrong.
“His Royal Highness Crown Prince Claude Castarti!”
The steward announced the prince’s arrival once again at the top of his lungs. A thunderous banging echoed from above the trembling doors, shaking the entire hall so violently that the chandeliers swayed—yet the crimson zitanwood doors remained stubbornly shut.
The nobles, who had been hiding their boredom behind polite decorum during the long wait, now exchanged bewildered glances. Could this possibly be part of the plan too?
But that absurd thought shattered the moment they saw Acting Count Gabe Esteban, the prince’s father-in-law, dash toward the doors with a deathly pale face.
What on earth was happening? Several delicate noblewomen pressed their hands to their foreheads.
Who could have imagined that the exhibition by Le Souer, the wildly popular war painter, would turn out like this?
Ever since the Imperial Palace officially announced the Crown Prince’s attendance and patronage, this event had seemed as meticulously staged as a theatrical performance.
The nobles cast resentful glances toward the massive wall veiled in white cloth.
Behind it, hidden within Garamcheon Hall as the sun set in crimson hues, lay the painting—its subject obvious to all.
It vividly depicted only the brutal horrors of the Hundred Years’ War, which had ended in victory a decade ago—a clear message meant to reinforce the stability and authority of the current Imperial throne.
Otherwise, it made no sense: why hold the exhibition in this glass conservatory rather than a lavish gallery, why arrange such a triumphant procession for the prince’s arrival, or why would the Imperial family—and Acting Count Esteban, the Emperor’s loyal hound—publicly sponsor a painter who never showed his face, especially during the busiest social season.
The prince needed to enter—by force if necessary—before the commoners outside, who had cheered the prince’s procession, noticed this bizarre situation of the doors refusing to open right before his eyes.
But then—
Thud.
At that exact moment, the cloth covering the painting fell away.
Yet the prince still hadn’t entered…!
Those who hastily turned their eyes to the canvas froze in utter shock.
Their expectations had been utterly wrong.
Beneath a sunset drenched in blood-red light, the canvas was filled with a knight clad in gleaming black armor.
His long crimson hair, scattered by the wind, was rendered with astonishing detail. Strangely, his unnaturally pale face against the dark background drew every gaze irresistibly toward it.
His unfocused, watery eyes exuded such an eerie aura that, despite knowing it was just a painting, one couldn’t help but wish to meet his gaze.
Then came the horrified realization—the red smears on the knight’s pale face weren’t strands of hair but blood, and in his hand he held the severed head of an old man.
The elderly man’s silver-streaked hair, his hollow eyes wide with terror as if witnessing his own death, and at the foot of his dripping neck lay the faded crown of Gauwe, discarded on the ground.
That chilling image was unmistakable.
“…Yes. Nerea Esteban.”
The moment that name was whispered—restrained yet echoing through the hall—the nobles remembered the forgotten hero.
Nerea Esteban, the Shield of the Castarti Empire, the true hero who had ended the Hundred Years’ War by revealing King Gauwe’s death to the world.
Boom—
A deafening sound shattered the icy silence. One by one, the nobles, overwhelmed by the painting’s intensity, snapped out of their trance and looked around.
“Here…! The lady has fainted! Call a physician at once!”
Soon, suppressed screams and gasps burst forth. Just as frantic hands pounded on the doors from outside once more, those same doors—which had remained so stubbornly locked—swung open easily.
“What in the—!”
The Crown Prince’s face, flushed with fury, instantly drained of color the moment he saw the painting.
In the chaotic hall, nobles rose unsteadily and instinctively stole glances at the artwork. The crowd that had trailed the prince’s procession did the same.
The dark background, the mountain of gruesome corpses, the final terrified expression of King Gauwe—and standing amid it all, the war hero known as the Black Knight, Nerea Esteban, her long red hair flowing wildly beneath her gleaming black armor.
Naturally, that day, every newspaper was dominated by Le Souer’s masterpiece, “The Black Knight.” And before even a full day had passed, another headline began capturing public attention:
“Extra! Extra! A special report on the Black Knight, Nerea Esteban, is out!”
—The nation’s savior, the Black Knight Nerea Esteban. Where has this ill-fated hero vanished to, having disappeared from the very victory banquet where she deserved the highest glory?
[This is the timeline separator]From that day on, Ledia Hall was always crowded with people.
Although some viewers screamed or fainted upon seeing this chilling yet passionate painting, its fame only grew stronger. Many returned countless times just to see it again.
The only time Ledia Hall ever grew quiet was during the dim hours of early dawn—after all, visitors who came to witness the blood-soaked horror bathed in sunset light had no interest in seeing the painting shrouded in cold, silent darkness.
Except for one person.
“As expected of Acting Count Esteban—swift as always. Nowhere in the papers can one find a single word about His Beloved Royal Highness fleeing the scene as frantically as a dog with a thousand tails.”
From a shadowed corner on the second floor, Johnny Hamilton, a man with chestnut hair, rolled up the newspaper and tapped it rhythmically against his palm.
“Of course, distributing replicas across the entire Castarti territory—despite the Imperial Palace’s tight security—is infinitely harder than just suppressing a few news articles!”
“….”
“I only did what was necessary, my lord—no need to flatter me so much.”
Johnny, who had lifted his chin with an air of bravado, quickly studied the man’s expression—and realized the man hadn’t even glanced his way.
This was troubling. He had so much to report: Le Souer’s upcoming exhibition, updates on the trading company, and more.
“My lord? Master Danju? Are you even—”
Johnny abruptly fell silent. Under the moon’s hazy glow, the man before him was astonishingly beautiful.
Even Johnny, who knew well the dry soul concealed beneath that mesmerizing exterior, found himself momentarily speechless.
Beneath languid, dreamy eyelids lay large, jet-black eyes exuding overwhelming intensity. Below deeply shadowed sockets, that endless black gaze wandered over the Black Knight’s painting.
Johnny, lost in the knight’s heartbreakingly tender expression—so poignant it chilled even the viewer—jerked back in alarm and turned away. He hurried down to the first floor as if fleeing, then muttered bitterly while eyeing the edge of the painting:
“…Honestly, there’s no one more obsessed than that guy. Ten years ago he was the same—how can he keep trailing after her even inside a painting? Just go already, beg if you have to. What miracle do you think you’ll find by stubbornly holding out like this?”
.
.
.
Once even Johnny had left, silence blanketed the space once more. Slowly, the man blinked. His yearning gaze, previously fixed solely on the knight, now took in the entire painting.
Details invisible even to those scorched by sunlight filtering through glass became instantly clear to him.
The oppressive, sweltering heat. How thin the soles of those boots must be, standing atop corpses rotting so foully they drew flies. How dazzlingly the black armor gleamed under the sun.
Or, for instance—
In the lower right corner, seemingly just part of the dark background, a child with raven-black hair sobbed bitterly while dragging something resembling a sled behind the knight.
And upon closer inspection, that sled looked uncannily like a coffin.
Memories so vivid they remained sharp even with closed eyes filled the man as he looked at the painting. The corners of his mouth softened into a gentle smile, and this time, he finally spoke aloud the words he’d always swallowed before:
“…Now I’m ready. So…”
I’ll go to you.
It was a night when the black gem of the necklace he habitually touched gleamed darker than ever.
[This is the timeline separator]Raindrops lashed his face so fiercely he could barely see ahead. Torrential rain, muddy roads, and his own feet sinking so deeply into the muck that each step felt impossible.
This was her present—and her future.
Nerea Esteban herself: once hailed as the nation’s savior, now a broken knight unable even to lift her arms properly. All she could do now was leave—so at least her squire wouldn’t suffer any further injury.
“Sir Knight, please take me with you!”
Yet cutting sharply through the downpour came a voice choked back with sobs. How far had that fool gone…! Nerea instinctively turned and bit her lip.
On the rain-muddied ground, her squire knelt, rubbing her palms together as she pleaded. Tears streamed down her feverish, ashen face.
“My lord, you know I barely eat…”
But Nerea saw something else beyond that pleading.
“I really can sleep less…”
Cheeks that had once been plump and glowing were now covered in sores.
“I’ll do laundry, cleaning, and cooking even better…”
A body that had grown so gaunt it seemed her bones might poke through.
“So please take me with you, my lord…”
And above all, her own helplessness—being unable to give even a single dose of medicine during her squire’s illness.
“My lord is my knight, and I am your squire…”
That was why she had to ignore the plea piercing through the rain. Turning her back on that raven-haired, tear-streaked face, Nerea took a step forward. Her squire finally broke down, shouting desperately:
“I’ll try harder! Please don’t abandon me, Sir Knight! I…”
Just lifting her foot felt suffocating. Her rain-soaked body trembled—not just from cold, but from chills so deep they shook her bones. But if she softened now and turned back, her squire would suffer cold not just for a moment, but for a lifetime.
So Nerea clenched her fists tightly. She squeezed her eyes shut against the sharp sting of nails digging into her palms—and when she opened them again—
Beyond her blurred vision, red light spread outward. At the same time, a cheerful voice chirped:
“Wake up, miss! You’re already running late—better start getting ready now.”
What was all this?
Nerea blinked, dazed. Warm tears rolled down, making the red glow even clearer—it was her own disheveled hair.
She was in her bed.
Which meant—she had just woken from a dream.
When male lead is the homewrecker
“I know she doesn’t love him.”
I’ve read the novel below twice already. Girls, I’m highly recommending it to you!
The female lead? Not a good person.
The second male lead? Not a good person.
The male lead? Willingly plays the third party, breaking up the female and second male lead’s relationship despite all the warnings from his friends—so yeah, he’s definitely not a good person either.
Basically, nobody in this novel is simple-minded or without scheming.
The female lead starts off as the male lead’s secretary, but don’t worry—later on, she takes over the company while the male lead steps back to support her. He won’t steal her spotlight, overshadow her, or dull her shine.
I love novels where men are out here snatching wigs, tearing each other down, and going to war just to win the female lead’s affection. And this is exactly that kind of novel. Most of Hai Dai Ran’s works have this dynamic. You’ll see the male characters’ emotions being pushed to the absolute extreme.
There’s even a scene where the second male lead exposes the male lead online for being a homewrecker. The brotherhood immediately gangs up on him, dragging him through the mud. I find it compelling —it completely flips reality on its head, where usually, women are the ones fighting over a man and getting torn apart by the sisterhood.
For me, female leads in the novels I read should only struggle in their careers, not in love. But if the brainless romantics in the story are all men? I have zero complaints.
I’ve pretty much read all of Hai Dai Ran’s novels and even translated all of them—her works are just my thing. I’ll slowly upload everything here. One day, when my website is official, I hope I can invite her to join as one of the star authors.
Here’s the story synopsis:
One-line summary: She is his lifelong obsession, to the point where he was willing to be a third wheel, scorned by society, just to wedge his way into her relationship with her fiancé.
Cold-hearted and indifferent female lead + Scheming and subservient CEO male lead
Intro 1:
“I know she doesn’t love him.”
With blood trickling from his clenched fist, Rong Xiu gazed at the woman before him, his eyes clouded with anguish. Hidden in the wardrobe, he had witnessed Fan Xia – the woman he desperately loved – in an intimate embrace with her fiancé. Yet his heart still yearned for her, defying all reason.
Fan Xia, the elegant and composed assistant, carried something mysterious in her eyes whenever she looked at her fiancé, Wen Lan Sheng. Strange occurrences began to surface – secret meetings with the young Gu Jin Yi, an unexplained withdrawal of 5,000 yuan… Then suddenly, her fiancé’s sister, Wen Jing, violently attacked her.
In this matriarchal society, Rong Xiu had risen to become the chairman of a powerful healthcare conglomerate, breaking through gender prejudices. But for the first time, he willingly stepped into the shadows as the other man, disregarding his friends’ warnings to become her secret lover.
Because he had discovered the truth – Fan Xia wasn’t the pure angel everyone believed her to be. And perhaps, he was the only one capable of helping her execute her mysterious plan…
Intro 2:
Rong Xiu’s biggest regret in life was missing out on Fan Xia.
He secretly loved Fan Xia for 7 years.
Watched her go public with her boyfriend.
Watched her kiss her boyfriend at their wedding.
Until that man blissfully nestled in Fan Xia’s arms, obtaining everything he could only dream of.
The crazy jealousy stripped away his hidden secret love, layer by layer, burning like wildfire.
Fan Xia, how can I have you!
【Reading and Trigger Warning Guide】
1. Female dominant, male submissive, male pregnancy
2. Male lead schemes his way to the top, male competition
_____
Please help me, I want to bring you the best possible things.
If you find any chapter or novel with poor translation and editing quality, let me know by commenting directly under that novel or chapter. I will retranslate it as soon as possible.
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