Chapter 191
Chapter 191
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: EP.44 – The Knight Hates Romantasy Events (2)
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"-It's about time for an incident to break out."
A month had passed since the Sultan and that headache of a spellcaster vanished.
During that time, Lee Han had done his utmost to avoid getting tangled in any troublesome matters.
He had dumped all the issues—from the fanatics to everything else—onto his royal big sis.
As a result...
- You rotten punk, you planning to use your big sis as your errand runner?!
- It's just sharing the workload. If a mere knight like me goes around sticking my nose in, wouldn't that look even worse? I have to play office politics too.
- ...That's the most shameless excuse I've heard all year.
- It's based entirely on facts, though?
- ...You little punk.
He had to put up with all her whining, but that wasn't his problem.
Do what she asks, and that's it. What more does she want? Geez.
'Power-hungry types always lack a conscience... a conscience...'
Just like that, Lee Han had offloaded everything and spent the past month solely focused on adjusting the disconnect between his body and senses. He hadn't spared a glance elsewhere.
In other words, he had enjoyed a truly peaceful daily life.
...But Lee Han knew.
That this peace was the calm before the storm.
'The clouds of war haven't dissipated yet.'
The air of the battlefield, imperceptible to ordinary folk.
That heavy atmosphere still prowled around Lee Han, and he was certain an incident would erupt at any moment.
Like leaving a small spark unattended and risking a massive blaze, even a minor scuffle could balloon into a huge disaster.
Tsk!
'...Sometimes I wish my gut feelings would just fizzle out.'
Lee Han clicked his tongue.
His instincts were a point of pride at times, but when even the bad omens hit the mark, his face naturally soured.
Pluck.
"Phew, I got so pissed I whipped it up in seconds."
Lee Han set down the needle and handkerchief.
His 'training' for the day had ended while he was lost in thought.
And the young ladies witnessing it...
"...I-Instructor, that's a-amazing...! To embroider a fish so precisely and so quickly...!"
"And the quality and flair are just...!"
...showered praise on the 'masterpiece' without holding back.
It was an exquisite embroidery of dynamic fish stitched densely—fit for any noblewoman to pay thirty gold coins for on sight.
To depict over a hundred lively fish on that tiny handkerchief was absurd skill in itself.
"J-Just two weeks, and he surpassed us..."
"...Heavens."
"Th-This is talent...!"
These noble daughters had learned embroidery since age three, yet in less than a fortnight, he produced such refined work. The girls felt a thick sense of defeat.
They might have shrugged off just the fish handkerchief, but seeing the dense scales of dragons and phoenix feathers, plus embroidered meadows, made them confront the wall of talent.
"My fingers are tougher than yours, so don't overpraise me. It'll spoil me."
Lee Han was human with skin so tough that needles and thread scraping or pricking did nothing.
Plus, from his past life to his current organizations, sewing was mandatory.
No one to mend your torn clothes? You learn to do it damn well by force.
Sad history, but thanks to it, embroidery came easy. With decent senses and dexterity, surpassing the girls was no sweat.
Just grind relentlessly, obsessively—that was it.
'Perfect [training method] for me.'
To master strength control, crude stuff like dumbbells or rebar was out. Delicate, focus-intensive training was better, so he'd conquered teddy bear dolls and knitted a hundred sweaters and scarves besides embroidery.
Productive work made it fun, and finer work yielded cooler 'pieces'—a satisfying regimen for Lee Han.
"Thanks to you all, I think I've got the hang of strength control. Not sure if it'll serve as thanks, but take the embroidery, sweaters, and dolls I made—divide them up. ...If you want them."
Would girls want stuff made by a guy? Lee Han shrugged.
But...
"Lady Rose! No funny business! Where'd you snag five?!"
"Wh-What are you talking about...?"
"Hah! Playing innocent? Fine, let's settle it with fencing!"
"...Oh? You dare challenge me to fencing? Hate to brag, but excluding Lady Levy, I'm second among female cadets."
"Talk is cheap. Scared?"
"...Fetch the fleurets now!"
The girls grabbed fencing swords and waged a skirmish over the knight's masterpieces. Lee Han blinked in disbelief.
...
He was a 'budding master' oblivious to his own genius.
"Who knew you had such unexpected talent, Instructor."
"...I still question if this counts as combat training. Still, their passion for sparring is nice."
As expected of nobles.
Well-taught fencing from youth meant solid basics, and they'd absorbed his lessons into impressive skill.
Fierce enough to worry about scrapes or bruises, but...
"The holy barrier should cover it."
The name of the holy art deployed by the interns. With this up, the kids could train or fight without much injury risk.
Lee Han watched the sparring with peace of mind, and midway...
"So, what's up? You starting the convo? Got some headache for me?"
"Don't phrase it like I only talk to you when there's trouble."
"You do, though?"
"......"
"You're pretty shameless yourself."
"...Ahem."
He looked cold and curt, but surprisingly fun to tease. The black-haired young lord averted his gaze.
Fair enough—if he had a conscience, initiating chit-chat would feel guilty.
Roan Dimitri de Lionel, the disciple who defaulted to acting like strangers. Rude as hell.
"Alright, why'd our young lord grace me with words?"
"...Just call me like normal. That fancy talk's making me queasy."
"Picky."
"......"
"Fine, I'll quit teasing."
"...Jack."
Swish.
Since when had he been lurking? Or maybe he'd been there from the start, presence so faint no one noticed. A certain cadet revealed himself.
But...
"I wondered why you were loitering. Not trying to spook us, right?"
"Huh?"
"Tch! Train your swordplay instead of stealth."
Unfortunately, his skills couldn't fool Lee Han's senses yet.
Lee Han scolded him instead.
Invests more elsewhere than swordsmanship, he says.
Jack made an aggrieved excuse amid the barrage.
"...I-I'm training hard too. But stealth hones itself even when idle..."
"...Sounds unlucky, but weirdly pitiful?"
"Don't pity me..."
Jack, whose assassin talent grew just by breathing, pouted sullenly. But innate diligence unchanged, he pulled photos from his pocket and handed them over.
"?"
"Take a look first."
"...Hm."
At their words, Lee Han skimmed the photos, and for a moment...
"......"
A chill flickered in his eyes, then vanished swiftly.
...Twitch!
Just an instant's iciness, but the lord and his retainer flinched.
Feeling his sharpened aura alone chilled their blood.
Oblivious, Lee Han scrutinized the photos.
Grainy resolution, but recognizable faces and places. Calmly...
"Blackie, stalking's a crime, you punk."
"......"
...He alternated between the presumed shots of Judia Pierre and the guy, pitying him.
- Judia Pierre.
A biological woman who dressed as a man, dual-personality holder, the temple's hunting dog—or hyena—known as the heretic inquisitor.
Got royally chewed out the day before for threatening Lee Han.
...Dig deeper, her resume wasn't just inquisitor.
Mystic race—.
Could invade dreams, sustained by draining human essence regardless of gender.
Not set in stone, but she'd leverage those powers to marry Blackie, dealing him massive trauma. One of the kingdom's 'three great villainesses' later.
...Glamorous record, but no one saw her as dangerous yet.
Naturally—nobody knew her crimes.
Only two aware: him, and the status window guy... plus the one who'd married a villainess...
"Still hung up on her?"
"...No."
...Just the regressor Blackie.
Lee Han eyed the photos chronicling Judia Pierre's movements with distaste.
Her meeting and talking with someone—pure stalking, no other word.
'...Anyone unaware of the context would call the guards on sight.'
He got it knowing Blackie and Judia's ties, but to others? Textbook stalker.
Caught, Blackie's rep tanks hard.
Lee Han sighed, flipping through.
"Why show me this ugliness? Anyone else sees it, misunderstandings galore."
"I trust you, Instructor. And you know... how much I loathe and guard against her."
"I do... that's why I'm worried."
Worried he'd drag her underground for torture tomorrow.
That intense hatred simmered in him.
'...This is why breakups need finesse.'
Like quitting a hated job and spite-deleting key files—hello hell mode.
Breakups have aesthetics; messy ones ruin your own life.
...Unless you're ready for your life to get messy too.
In that vein...
'This guy's gunning to end her.'
"-Instructor, hand her over now. She's beyond salvaging."
Blackie—no, Roan—glared, desperate to ruin Judia Pierre's life. Lee Han scratched his nape.
'Predicted trouble brewing, but it's revving up already?'
The photo figures...
...All looked like 'temple folks.' Lee Han sensed his peaceful days ending.
'Medieval religions suck for this.'
Skip the faith stuff for weird crap.
...Would smacking him on the back of the head snap him out of it?