Chapter 160
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 160
“Don’t look so scared. Anyone watching would think I’m the one robbing you, not the bandits.”
“M-my apologies, Sir.”
Malcolm, finally coming to his senses, offered his thanks alongside his son.
It was a grave discourtesy to show such wariness toward the knight who had just saved their lives. However, Vincent waved his hand dismissively, as if he didn't care in the least.
“Well, as long as you know. A knight doesn’t crave gold like a common bandit does.”
“You are absolutely right, Sir.”
“Though, of course, a knight doesn’t exactly refuse a token of gratitude freely given, either.”
Vincent tilted his head, making a circular gesture with one hand.
Malcolm, a man who had seen much of the world, realized what Vincent wanted and looked troubled. He truly lacked the funds to offer a proper reward.
“I am sorry, Sir. I wish to give you something, but I truly have nothing.”
“Ahem, really? Nothing at all? Even though I saved your lives?”
“To be honest, our travel funds are nearly exhausted. We’re at a point where we might run out of money before reaching our destination, so we’ve even been cutting back on meals.”
“...Dammit.”
At Vincent’s curse, Malcolm and his son flinched.
A knight strapped for cash could sometimes turn into a bandit knight. Fortunately, Vincent only let out a deep sigh and did them no harm.
“If you’re at the point of skipping meals, I suppose it can’t be helped. Where is your destination?”
“Asagrim, in the North.”
“Ah, there... Right. I wish you a safe journey.”
“Thank you, Sir. May the Eight Gods bless your path.”
Fearing Vincent might change his mind, Malcolm and his son hurried toward the next territory as if they were fleeing.
Vincent scratched his head as he watched their retreating backs.
“Nothing is going right. Seriously, why do people travel these days without any money?”
“People don't carry money because the world is like this.”
As if answering Vincent’s monologue, three shadows suddenly emerged from behind him. They were Martin, Jude, and Widro—men who had once belonged to the Black Lions alongside Vincent.
“When public order is this bad, travelers usually fall into two categories: those with enough money to hire plenty of guards, or those so desperate they have no choice but to risk the danger. Those two just now were clearly the latter.”
“You think I don’t know that? I just thought that no matter how desperate they were, they’d at least have a few coins to spare.”
“So, any luck? I believe that’s the third time you’ve rescued someone from that second category.”
At Widro’s pointed remark, Vincent looked away.
It would be one thing if he’d saved someone pretending to be poor, but he kept running into people who were genuinely destitute. What 'luck' was there to be had?
When Vincent didn't answer, Widro let out a heavy sigh.
“I knew it. What was it you said? ‘Follow me, and at least you won’t starve’? We don’t even have money for tomorrow’s food, let alone a feast.”
“...We’ve still managed to eat every day so far, haven’t we?”
“For the past few days, all we’ve had are scraps of rye bread without so much as a bowl of stew!”
“Your bellies are full, aren’t they? Regardless, I didn’t lie.”
Widro pressed a hand to his forehead at Vincent’s shameless response.
To think that the Black Lions, who once made the entire Eastern Region tremble, were now reduced to begging for meal money. Recalling the good old days made their current plight feel all the more pathetic.
“If the Second Young Master hadn't taken over House Valdek, I never would have followed you, Senior.”
“See? Isn’t this better than working under the Second Young Master?”
“I’m saying it’s better than the absolute worst, not that it’s a compliment.”
Despite his grumbling, Widro couldn't deny Vincent’s point.
Living as a wanderer like this was several times better than serving under Jordi. When they worked under the former Grand Duke, Sigmund, they had pride, even if they were handling dirty work. They had the pride of knowing that by doing the unsavory tasks, they were stabilizing the Empire and protecting the lives of the commoners.
But that pride had vanished completely when Jordi staged his rebellion.
Every order issued since then had been solely for the purpose of lining Jordi’s own pockets.
‘Even now, I know I made the right choice leaving. I’d rather starve to death than work under those kinds of orders.’
The only regret was that they hadn't had the chance to retrieve the wealth they had accumulated during their years as Black Lions. If all the Black Lions had tried to withdraw their personal assets at once, Jordi would have noticed. To escape safely, they had to abandon everything with a heavy heart.
He didn't regret the decision, but living like a beggar indefinitely was also a problem.
“Senior, let’s just go to the Third Young Master—no, His Grace the Grand Duke. If we appeal to our past connection, surely...”
“No.”
“Why not, for heaven’s sake?”
“Look at the Grand Duke’s recent actions. He’s gathering every bit of legitimacy and justification he can find. Do you think he’ll just take us in, knowing we’re Black Lions?”
Gathering legitimacy meant distancing himself as much as possible from 'dirty' work. Even with their past connection, it was doubtful whether the current Lucian would accept the Black Lions, who had handled all sorts of foul deeds.
“Captain Raymond is fine because he officially became the Grand Duke’s escort knight before leaving for the North. But for us, our only meeting with His Grace was during a mission. If others start digging into our past, we won’t have a leg to stand on.”
“Maybe back when he was the Third Young Master, but he’s the Grand Duke now. Is he really in a position where he has to worry about such petty scrutiny?”
“It’s a manageable loss, but it’s not no loss. Would His Grace be willing to endure even that much for our sake?”
“...”
Widro fell silent, unable to answer.
Objectively, the Black Lions were talented assets, but looking at Lucian’s current situation, it was hard to say he was lacking in talent. Furthermore, their 'connection' was nothing more than a fleeting encounter.
‘If we’re lucky, we might be welcomed, but we could just as easily be turned away at the door.’
Both men sighed simultaneously.
Everything depended on Lucian’s state of mind, but since they had no way of knowing it, it was a headache.
“Anyway, if we just show up and get rejected, we’re out of options. We should wait until we have at least some pretext to visit Asagrim, then try to slip in.”
“Is such a pretext ever going to happen?”
“How should I know, you brat? If you don’t like it, go try and get accepted by yourself.”
“...I’ll wait for the pretext.”
Having reached an agreement, the two men looked at each other and nodded.
If you make an overt proposal and get rejected, it becomes impossible to bring it up again even if the situation changes later. It was better to leave the opportunity open in a way that wouldn't hurt their chances if they were initially turned down.
Following the silence of the Imperial Family, a true era of chaos descended upon the Empire.
Ambition and betrayal, war and intrigue broke out everywhere, and public security worsened by the day. The lives of the commoners grew harsh, public sentiment soured, and bandits appeared in every corner.
The only territory enjoying peace and prosperity was Asagrim in the North.
Trade flourished more each day, the people were full of vitality, and the army was powerful. Recently, with the unveiling of the Northern Royal Family's Legacy, new talents were flocking to the region.
However, despite enjoying a peace that others envied, the atmosphere in Asagrim had been somber of late.
The benefactor of Lucian, the Conqueror of the North, and a giant of the era was about to leave this world.
“Sir Eisen.”
“...Your Grace.”
At Lucian’s call, Eisen, who was lying in bed, opened his eyes slightly.
His voice was cracked and dry, as if even answering was a struggle. The image of the Sword Saint who once overwhelmed hundreds of knights was nowhere to be found.
“Are you alright?”
“No. It seems I don’t have much time left.”
“...”
Lucian didn't know how to respond to Eisen’s calm words.
Eisen smiled faintly, as if telling him he didn't need to answer.
“Could you call Felicia for me?”
“Of course. Please wait a moment.”
Lucian gestured to a nearby attendant. The attendant bowed slightly and, as soon as the door was closed, ran off in a hurry.
A moment later, footsteps reinforced with mana could be heard from a distance.
BANG!
“Father!”
“Shh.”
As Felicia burst through the door, Eisen brought a finger to his lips.
That simple gesture made Felicia’s heart ache. She could see that he no longer even had the strength to scold his daughter for her brashness.
“Sit down.”
Felicia silently pulled up a chair and sat.
Eisen watched her for a long time without speaking. Finally, the Sword Saint spoke.
“Felicia.”
“Yes, Father.”
“I have failed as a knight.”
“Sir Eisen.”
Eisen shook his head at Lucian, who tried to interject. His expression said he appreciated the comfort, but now was not the time for it.
As Lucian reluctantly sat back down, Eisen continued.
“There is a saying that half of a life is determined by how one lives, and the other half by how one dies. In that regard, the conclusion of my life has been quite clumsy.”
“...”
“I failed to protect my lord, I failed to even recognize the one who killed him, and I couldn't even take revenge with my own hands, leaving it to His Grace instead. It is truly shameful.”
But your life was truly brilliant.
You served House Valdek for three generations, served two family heads excellently, and left your name in history. You only made a very small mistake at the very end.
Lucian wanted to say those words, but he couldn't.
He knew they would provide no comfort to Eisen.
“Do not become a knight like me.”
“Father...”
“Protect His Grace. You must protect him. I am not telling you to be a 'great' knight. If you lose your lord through a moment’s folly despite having more than enough strength, you will weep tears of blood.”
Instead of answering, Felicia gripped Eisen’s hand tightly.
Eisen smiled at the intense resolve transmitted through her fingertips.
“Yes, that is enough. As long as you do not forget that weight, you will not fail as I did.”
“...”
“However.”
Pausing for a moment, Eisen toyed with the calluses on Felicia’s hand. It was as if he were retracing the marks he had left upon the world.
“Though I may have failed as a knight, my life as a swordsman was a success. For I was able to leave such a magnificent successor to the world.”
“...!”
“Do not be bound by my shadow; show the world who the Sword Saint Felicia is. I wish to remain in this world not as the Sword Saint, but as the father who raised the greatest Sword Saint.”
At his tender voice, hot tears streamed down Felicia’s cheeks.
Their father-daughter relationship had certainly begun as a means to guarantee the status of Felicia, an illegitimate daughter, and to sever her ties to the House of Roglan.
Yet, no biological child could have ever become a truer daughter to Eisen than Felicia. If a child is considered an extension of the parent, then she was his truest self.
After holding Felicia’s hand for a long while, Eisen turned his gaze to Lucian.
“Your Grace.”
“Yes.”
Lucian quietly waited for Eisen’s next words.
He expected some helpful advice, much like what he had given Felicia. But the words that reached Lucian’s ears far exceeded his imagination.
“Achieve your Great Cause.”
“...!”
Lucian felt as if his breath had stopped.
This was Eisen, a man who had served House Valdek and the Empire his entire life. Such a man was now validating Lucian’s ambition.
He was telling Lucian to achieve his goal, even if it meant tearing down the Empire. He had spoken words that directly contradicted the values he had pursued his whole life.
Feeling the immense weight of those words, Lucian answered in a trembling voice.
“I shall certainly do so.”