Chapter 328
Chapter 328
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: EP.69 – The Knight Cheers for the Youths (7)
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Even though there were still ten days left until the royal debutante ball, which was held only once every few years, nobles were already flocking to the capital in droves.
These days, you couldn't step out onto the streets without seeing nobles everywhere.
With so many nobles gathered, the capital hadn't seen a single dark night in the past fortnight.
Parties were happening one after another, and it wasn't uncommon to spot low-ranking nobles passed out drunk in the streets, having partied from day through night and into the dawn.
And today was no different.
"The Prime Minister's so worried he's going to make himself sick. So what if there's some shady faction lurking around? They're not causing any real harm to the capital anyway. Those punks? Our knight order could wipe them out in one go."
"You think the Prime Minister wants to worry? It's just that being in a high position makes him fret over everything."
"Then we need to show him in the war games and ease his mind. Let him see how strong our house truly is!"
"I'll be looking forward to it, Jackson. I expect great things from you."
"You bet!"
The banquet hall's lights burned through the night. If anything, the energy was only ramping up.
In the midst of a raucous party hosted by some count, a group was chattering away in the center with exaggerated flair.
They looked seasoned enough, but hanging out with friends made their conversation come off a bit childish—though no one seemed to mind.
'Sir Jackson must be desperate for cash.'
'Well, his house poured everything into building up their knight order despite not having much wealth to begin with. Can't blame him for being urgent.'
They knew it was just flailing.
Merchants or nobles without proper estates were a dime a dozen down south, which was why plenty of them scrambled for attention like this.
So their over-the-top boasting was clearly a ploy to advertise themselves and draw crowds to the war games.
For nobles, attention meant profit, and prestige turned into coin.
Even if the war games were just noble entertainment, victory brought fame—and the backing of wealthy patrons looking to borrow some muscle.
But defeat...
'They'd lose everything.'
Well, mocking the losers was entertaining in its own right.
The nobles hid their two-faced sneers behind smiles, cheering them on lavishly.
Hoping, at least, for some thrilling distraction from their bored lives.
"...Disgusting, really."
A young man watching all this from the back clicked his tongue in disgust.
These so-called nobles showed not a shred of dignity or nobility.
Just arrogant vulgarity.
"Don't be too harsh. The economy runs because of people like them."
"I get that, but..."
"Thanks to them opening their wallets, folks in all sorts of trades will enjoy a bountiful winter. It's a good thing."
"Hmm... Fair point."
It was a convincing argument.
The flowers, crops, and fruits decking out this banquet hall had been bought in bulk from countless farmers. Even the booze, food, cutlery, and towels were custom-ordered from every workshop in the capital.
It was like handing them a full year's worth of work all at once, but no doubt the commoners were grinning ear to ear amid the rush.
Well,
"The one grinning widest is probably our lord's purse."
Jack couldn't help but admire his liege, who had clearly foreseen all this and was raking in the kingdom's wealth.
This banquet hall alone was his, and the loot from the past fortnight would more than cover construction costs—it was piling up into a massive fortune. And there were dozens of such venues he'd supplied.
It was beyond impressive; it was masterful.
"Sadly, I don't have a purse. I just reinvest the profits back into the merchant guild."
"H-How rich do you plan to get, my lord...?"
"What? I just need enough to live comfortably. Still a long way to go."
"Ha, the instructor said you already have 'more than enough,' and now I get it."
"Maybe."
He chuckled softly, then patted Jack's shoulder. The young man's face was still flushed with lingering heat.
"Jack. You're still angry."
"Ah, this is..."
"It's not just their vulgarity that's got you riled up, is it?"
"......"
"You're mad because these fools treat the peace our instructor—our master—sweat and bled for so lightly. Am I wrong?"
"...You see right through feelings even I don't fully grasp, my lord."
Jack gave a wry smile toward the black-haired youth who read him so perfectly. In response,
"Don't get mad. Empty-headed fools full of unearned confidence are everywhere. Wasting your anger on them just hurts you."
"You're... right."
"Good, you know it. Don't waste your energy. Time's too precious."
"...Your way of speaking sounds just like the instructor's, my lord. Haha."
"...Guess it's rubbing off."
Roan let a faint smile creep onto his face.
Reminding himself he hadn't spoken like this originally.
But it didn't feel bad.
A little...
'I'm overcoming my 'past' too.'
It might be the 'future' to others, but to him, it was an uncertain illusion of time from the past.
His memories and scars were still etched into his mind and soul within that temporal haze. Thankfully, unlike the day before, Roan wasn't thrashing about lost in them.
'The episodes are less frequent.'
Just yesterday, floods of memories would sometimes swallow his thoughts, triggering outbursts where he'd smash nearby objects or the [power] dormant inside him would rampage. But lately, those fits had noticeably decreased.
'It started after meeting the instructor.'
More precisely, after absorbing his teachings and going through those counseling sessions, things had gradually improved.
...Well, in a way, it was like forced therapy through brute strength.
'That fist alone is enough to scare off any madness.'
One solid knuckle rap packed with overwhelming power could crack his skull.
'The more I think about it, the more absurd it gets.'
It was ridiculous that he, of all people, was staying sane out of fear of getting hit.
Yet Roan welcomed the change.
Because
'I'll grow through it too.'
Mentally, in swordsmanship—whatever it took.
Roan viewed the phenomenon positively.
As he basked in this peculiar sentiment, a murmur reached his ears.
"What's going on?"
"...Looks like a new noble arrived. Let me check... Ah, there on the list. Seems like a guest invited by the hosting count."
"Guest?"
Roan blinked in confusion.
Not at the guest's arrival itself, but at how one mere guest had the nobles suddenly buzzing.
"Ah, my lord, you've been too busy lately to hear the rumors, huh."
"Rumors?"
"Nothing major. Just that a woman who's taken high society by storm has appeared."
"?"
"Word is, she's a stunning beauty. Young noble scions are dying to even hold her hand if she shows up, but she won't even let them—won't allow so much as a kiss on the back of her hand... And yet, instead of hating her, tons of them are desperate to catch her eye. Even titled nobles among them."
"...Is this from some trendy play?"
Roan furrowed his brow for a moment.
It sounded that ridiculous.
Hard to believe nobles—whose pride left them little more than corpses without it—would fawn over one woman's looks.
Rumors had limits. This was...
Clack—.
"......"
Clack, clack.
...The next instant, Roan froze mid-thought, eyes wide like he'd seen a ghost. Everyone in the hall fell silent, mouths agape.
The only sound piercing the hush was the sharp click of heels striking the pristine white marble floor. The crowd couldn't hide their shock.
"...The rumors were true."
"It's like the shock from when Her Highness Isis first debuted in society all over again."
The woman who appeared, parting the surging nobles, was breathtaking.
Her rose-red hair and enigmatic wine-colored eyes evoked mature vintage wine, effortlessly stealing gazes. The sultry allure she exuded tempted without regard for gender.
Her black dress perfectly complemented her, amplifying her charm. People stared as if admiring a masterpiece.
Yet strangely, no one dared approach.
They just stood mesmerized, like gazing at a rose blooming under moonlight in a dark alley.
Her presence was that captivating.
...To the point it made you question if she was even human like them.
And,
"That damned thing dares show up here...!"
The youth who knew she wasn't human boiled with rage.
Just seeing her triggered past trauma!
"Judia..."
Roan ground his teeth, spitting her name. He meant to head down immediately.
It was impulsive, but he couldn't hold back this fury.
Seeing her exactly as he remembered from his past—he couldn't just stand by.
Even risking exposure of his hidden identity in the banquet hall, he didn't hesitate. Ignoring Jack's urgent attempts to stop him, he started forward—
Grab!
"!?!?"
...Irresistible strength pinned him down.
"This idiot's lost it. You always go feral when you get worked up?"
A familiar voice.
Roan instantly recognized the owner of that controlling grip and narrowed his eyes.
"...Let go, Instructor. Even you can't stop me this time, ...Who are you?"
But soon, Roan forgot his anger and tilted his head.
"Who else? You don't recognize me?"
"??"
He was a handsome man.
With a refreshingly appealing charm.
A strikingly memorable face, hard to forget once seen.
In that sense, Roan had never laid eyes on him before. As confusion set in,
"Ah, first time seeing this form, huh? Hold on..."
Krunch!
"......"
"Ah, partial release is tricky. Hey, blackie, got a spare room? My clothes are gonna rip."
"......"
"Blackie?"
"...Instructor?"
"Yeah?"
"......You're human, right?"
"Huh?"
"...Hah..."
...What kind of person shapeshifts like this?
The regressor forgot his rage entirely, staring in stunned disbelief with a hollow laugh.