Chapter 289
Chapter 289
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: EP.62 - What is the Justification for a Knight to Fight? (11)
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"......Cough."
Everyone present let out a stunned cough, their minds utterly blank.
Only Guinevere, who had a long-standing alliance with Modred, knew the full circumstances. At most, the Pendragon royal family and Duke Galahad might have some inkling.
That meant only a tiny handful in the entire kingdom were aware. For a complete stranger they'd just met today to know all these secrets left their heads reeling.
The man responsible, however...
"What's so hard about it? There are at least five more people around me who could've guessed this."
"That just means the people around you are as extraordinary as you are..."
"First time anyone's called me extraordinary. Anyway, you nobles sure love making a fuss."
"...Have you ever been swindled by nobles? The hatred you spew toward them is as natural as breathing."
"Cut the chatter. Take that as confirmation my guess is right."
"......"
...seemed utterly unfazed.
As if he'd solved some trivial puzzle.
"Hah..."
His boldness was beyond measure. Even watching him casually sip his tea felt too audacious for words.
Cain wondered where in the world such a character had suddenly popped up from.
'What the hell happened out there during the five years we were gone?'
He was a knight Cain had never seen or heard of back when they were out in the world.
At first, he'd suspected he might be some thug from the Black Lion or Savage Fang, but after talking with him, Cain realized he was cut from a completely different cloth. What Cain had gleaned so far was that this man was an incredibly strong warrior—and sharp as a tack.
They'd only met and spoken for less than an hour combined, but Cain was certain.
This man was no inferior to him or his father.
Not in strength, nor in anything else.
So...
'Why?'
He couldn't fathom why this man was stepping up for Modred like this.
'What's in it for him?'
Great powers didn't move without cause.
Cain couldn't help but fixate on his motives.
At that moment...
"...I understand your intent. Even that you're gunning for that damned 'pest,' the Wraith King."
The old knight—no, the captain of the Hundred Ghosts Shield Knights and Modred's strongest knight—spoke with a grave expression.
"But that's not possible. This is our war, Modred's war. The task our ancestors left us. We can't hand it off to an outsider."
With each word, a heavy aura layered out, evoking the image of an impregnable tower.
At a glance, it seemed like a knight's stubbornness, an old man's folly, or even the noble arrogance this man despised. But everyone here instantly saw through it.
It was consideration...
'Father's taken a liking to him.'
He could read his father's mind clearly.
This young man, not of Modred blood nor even born in Wales, charging into the 'hell pit' on youthful impulse—he was worried.
He didn't want such a promising talent to throw his life away on a whim. It was a perfectly understandable sentiment.
Those who caught on all turned their gazes toward him at the same moment.
Gratitude was gratitude, but they couldn't let him share their 'curse'—ignoring him now was the proper thing to...
"-Tell me where that rotten god is, and I won't give you any cookies Louise made. They're the first she ever baked, by the way."
"......"
"I'll throw in a photo of the cookie-making scene as a bonus."
Tak.
"......"
"...What are you doing, Father?"
"Cough. A grandfather just wants to see his eight-year-old granddaughter's face, that's all."
"...I'm her biological father."
"So?"
"......"
"Fine, you can have the photo. Let go of the cookies."
"Heh heh. Yield a bit to an old man who could drop dead any day."
"Ha...! Cut the nonsense. You're the one outliving me."
"......"
"......"
...It sparked a father-son spat.
"That squirming little thing grew this big?"
"Grown? She's still tiny."
"My god..."
"Look at those chubby cheeks."
"...She takes after her mother completely."
"She'll grow up beautiful. Of course, she takes after Modred's finest beauty."
Unlike the petty adults still locked in their cold war, the others' eyes sparkled as they gazed at the photo Lee Han had handed over.
The late-born little sister.
With over ten years' age gap, the siblings looked at Louise like she was their child born from the heart.
'No one's marrying her.'
Nine protective brothers-in-law, plus a fiercely intimidating father and grandfather.
Whoever she brings home is in for pity.
"If anyone dares make this child sad, this Felix will tear them limb from limb!!"
...And one cousin built like a bear.
'She'll need to bring an Aura User just to get marriage approval.'
If he wants to survive those guys.
As Lee Han entertained such half-joking thoughts, the father-son battle finally crowned a victor.
"You're still green, boy."
"...Do you really want to beat your son that badly?"
"Heh heh."
The victorious knight stroked the cloth pouch holding the cookies as if afraid they'd crumble, paying no mind to the loser.
"To think that little one grew this much... this big..."
The cookies looked rather pitiful overall.
As a child's very first batch, they were bound to be amateurish.
But without a doubt, mold or poison be damned—they'd devour them all.
As if they were the most delicious cookies in the world.
"Thank you for the wonderful gift."
"I didn't just give it. Time to pay up."
"......"
"You took it. Now settle the bill."
"...I know. But having received such a precious gift, I especially don't want you going after that 'pest.'"
"......"
"You're still young, with a bright future ahead. And not even born in Wales."
So don't go.
This war was theirs, not one for outsiders to shed blood in.
"I'm not discriminating based on birthplace."
"Heh heh, it's not that. Not that at all..."
Garok's murmur faded softer and softer.
As if swallowing his emotions.
As if hiding his surging feelings.
"You're too good a man. That's why I'm trying to stop you."
"......"
"You're our benefactor, a good man. How could we not try to stop someone like that? When he might die—!"
The others, whose Spirit Eyes were still immature, might not know, but Garok had heard from the ghosts what Lee Han had done for Modred.
And it was a debt he couldn't repay even if he ground his remaining life to dust.
"You saved our poor granddaughter, this foolish old man in her stead."
He'd heard from the ghosts.
How his granddaughter had been treated.
How she'd survived.
How lonely and tormented she'd been.
...How that child had endured such harsh years.
"You're exaggerating. Any decent adult would've done the same."
"But you were the only one who did. The only adult who reached out to her."
"...It wasn't just me."
Lee Han trailed off vaguely, turning his gaze outside the tent.
"Did you think that kid survived completely alone for five years?"
"...?"
"There were plenty of decent adults."
Lee Han glanced outside.
The knights, soldiers, and servants still working out there.
"The families of those folks working out there helped her in secret a lot. That's how she survived."
"......"
It's a simple story.
How could a three-year-old suddenly abandoned survive five years?
Because of her survival skills?
Because she was cleverer than her peers?
Sure, those helped a bit, but not much.
So what let the child survive?
-Hey, Santa. You know? There's a fairy who leaves firewood every winter!
A certain knight's wife bringing firewood or blankets on cold days.
-And when there's no food, a grandma fairy sneaks in bread or dried fruit!
An old mother with a soldier son.
-There's even an uncle fairy who gave me a fishing rod!
A fisherman remembering the lord's grace.
For five years, steady helping hands appeared in secret whenever the child was truly in danger.
That's how she grew up healthy.
Everyone seemed to ignore and abandon her, but when she was truly at risk, people stepped up—that's why she could still smile.
"You said repay a debt? Don't repay me. Repay those people. I was there barely ten days, but they watched over your family for five years."
"......"
"Lucky, isn't it? Plenty of bad people, but good ones too."
"...You're right. Truly... yes."
Garok and the Modred clansmen reddened at the eyes.
A gratitude beyond words made their hearts surge.
Lee Han watched them quietly before slowly turning to the Frontier Baron, whose face was twisting as if about to burst into tears.
"Honestly, I wanted to punch you. No matter what, how could you just irresponsibly leave a kid like that?"
"......"
"...But soon I realized. People close to that kid started 'suddenly dying' a lot. The steward you left as proxy dies of some random illness, or the old retainer from your house who watched over her close-up drops from a heart condition."
"...Sir Vane."
"Yeah, Vane. The old man's name who protected the kid for a full three years."
...Another tidbit from the investigation: those who cared for or befriended the child met with sudden accidents more often.
Falling ill, or getting hurt over nothing.
No coincidence. That might be why the Frontier Baron couldn't assign many people...
"The [curse] stuck to that kid."
"......"
"That's why you kept numbers low. To minimize victims."
"......"
"...Some dark-skinned guy I know told me. Only people with special constitutions can host gods. And that kid probably..."
"'Vessel'..."
"......"
He gritted his teeth.
His eyes looked ready to weep blood.
"Yes. My daughter was arbitrarily chosen as the Land God's vessel. A 'vessel' for the god's descent, and the townsfolk are forced 'materials' to build its foundation."
Kaduk...!
"Want to know the worst part? We can't even run from this fate. No—even if we did, being born in Wales means we can't defy it. In other words..."
─We can't run even if we want to.
"...Our families, friends, and lovers are all hostages."