Chapter 14
Chapter 14
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 14
Chapter Title: The Departure Ceremony (3)
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Clad in heavy armor beneath pale green surcoats embroidered with a two-headed snake, and mounted on fine steeds, the forces of House Giftrang were the very picture of what people imagined a knightly order to be.
Beneath fluttering banners, the citizens of Comrat watched in awe as some thirty cavalrymen held their spears aloft with perfect, measured uniformity.
It was a sight so impressive that, for a moment, the existence of the Relief Knights completely slipped their minds.
“Waaaaah!”
The citizens, who had been staring blankly, belatedly erupted in cheers that seemed to shake the very square.
The Giftrang forces, sitting ramrod straight, cut through the crowd and came to a halt in the center of the square.
“Our House!”
Young Lord Klail Giftrang stepped forward from the group.
“Has decided it can no longer stand by and watch the citizens of Comrat suffer at the hands of a lawless band of bandits!”
As if on cue, the cheers subsided.
“Therefore, we have resolutely drawn our swords to rise and punish the bandits ourselves!”
His voice, carrying a strange power, magically echoed through every corner of the square.
“But before that, I ask the citizens of Comrat!”
His feigned look of sorrow as he asked was as tragic and mournful as a scene from a play.
“Are the people of Comrat so weak they need outside help? Is your pride so shallow that it can be shaken by a pack of bandits no more threatening than a summer breeze!”
At his impassioned voice, the citizens' faces flushed.
“Whose duty is it to protect Comrat?”
“Comrat, by the hands of its people!”
The Giftrang forces responded to the Young Lord's perfectly timed roar.
“That's right! The people of Comrat must protect Comrat!”
“How can we trust outsiders? They'll just stir up a bunch of trouble and leave, pretending they know nothing!”
“Long live House Giftrang of Comrat!”
“The greatest house in Comrat!”
The citizens' cheers, erupting a moment later, echoed throughout the square, and the Young Lord watched with a pleased expression.
He thought to himself.
Even if those Relief Knights—who knows where they crawled out from—show up now, they won't impress the citizens. They must know that, which is why they're too scared to show their faces in the square even with the sun high in the sky.
“A shame.”
He had intended to put those Relief Knights, a motley crew of riffraff, squarely in their place, so this was quite a pity for the Young Lord.
A glance.
The Young Lord looked directly behind him.
Three knights stood there, wearing surcoats emblazoned with a two-headed snake holding a flower in its mouth.
They were the Yuhyeolmogi Knights, House Giftrang's public sword, personally dispatched by the family head.
“What do you think? With a display like this, I imagine those Relief Knights—who knows where they crawled from—have been completely erased from the citizens' minds.”
The Yuhyeolmogi Knights showed little reaction to his confident tone.
“After seeing a true knightly order, do you think the citizens would even spare a glance for such riffraff?”
“Perhaps…”
The belated reply was utterly half-hearted.
To give such a vague answer to him, the one who would soon inherit the house, was infuriating, but he didn't let it show.
We'll see if you act so stiffly when I'm the head of the house.
He simply resolved to deal with it later.
“Young Lord.”
“Address me as Commander for now.”
“Young Lord.”
Just as he decided he had to say something this time and was about to rebuke the Yuhyeolmogi, he clamped his mouth shut.
“…”
The square was unnaturally quiet.
The cheers that had been loud enough to shake the city just moments before had already died down.
The gazes of the citizens, which had been fixed on him with admiration, were now directed elsewhere.
“…?”
Following their gazes, the Young Lord turned his head and saw a blue flag jutting out above the crowd.
A flag with a white cross on a navy-blue field.
“The Relief Knights…!”
It was the flag of the Freelance Knights' Guild.
But the citizens' reaction was strange.
At first, he assumed they were simply speechless at the sight of the hastily assembled Relief Knights, a band of misfits, especially right after witnessing a proper knightly order.
But the silence of the crowd was too heavy for that to be the only reason.
“Hmm.”
The dense crowd between him and the Relief Knights made it difficult to grasp the situation. Still, as the Young Lord of the great House Giftrang, he couldn't possibly approach them first, so he simply waited for them to reach the center of the square.
And at last, the Relief Knights cut through the crowd and appeared in the center of the square.
“…!”
The Young Lord's eyes widened.
Their armor, lacking even a shred of uniformity, was nothing to look at,
The only thing identifying them as a single group was the dark blue cloaks they wore, pulled down low.
A disorderly rabble of foot soldiers, without a single horse to their name, making a mockery of the term 'knightly order'.
And yet, they didn't look shabby in the slightest.
It was all because of the dark red stains on their spear tips and cloaks.
Blood, blood, and more blood.
Clutching swords and spears from which bright red blood dripped, they looked as rough and brutal as warriors returning from battle.
“What is the meaning of this…”
The Young Lord, thoroughly displeased by their classless appearance, so unbefitting of a solemn departure ceremony, was about to shout—
*Thud.*
The Relief Knights threw the sacks they had been carrying at their waists down before him.
“Huh? Huh? Isn't that blood?”
“Gah! Th-there are human heads inside!”
The square, which moments ago had been filled with the excitement of the departure ceremony, instantly descended into chaos.
*Thump!*
With exquisite timing, the Relief Knights stomped their feet in unison.
Unlike the freewheeling gait they'd had on their way to the square, the sound was so disciplined it was as if a single person had made it.
“Fifteen in total.”
A youthful voice emerged from among the Relief Knights.
“Exactly the number of wolves' heads that were hiding among the sheep, biding their time.”
Though not spoken with great force, the voice was strangely clear and penetrating.
“These are the heads of the heinous wanted criminals that the Relief Knights cut down last night.”
“Th-those are all wanted criminals' heads?”
The citizens, belatedly understanding the meaning of his words, began to murmur.
“I heard some mysterious men were stirring up trouble in the city yesterday, could it be…”
“I-I can't believe it. How do we know those aren't the heads of innocent people?”
No sooner had the words been spoken than a soldier burst out from the crowd.
“Pelon? Why is he…?”
As the citizens who recognized him whispered among themselves, the soldier checked each sack one by one before crying out with a pale face.
“All fifteen are wanted criminals! And they're the worst of the worst!”
The moment the soldier's confirmation was finished.
“Waaaaah!”
The atmosphere in the square changed once again.
* * *
“Relief Knights! Relief Knights!”
“Freelance Knights' Guild!”
The citizens, thoroughly excited, chanted the names of the Relief Knights and the Freelance Knights' Guild.
Everything was going according to plan.
That the citizens would be terrified as if they'd seen a ghost, and that someone would come forward to verify whether the heads in the sacks truly belonged to dangerous criminals.
And that the citizens would erupt in cheers afterward—it was all expected.
“The Esquire's plan worked.”
One of the mercenaries beside me exclaimed in admiration.
I had known from the beginning that the Relief Knights would inevitably be compared to House Giftrang's forces, and I had been pondering how to avoid becoming a mere side show.
It wasn't an easy task.
A disorderly mob without a single warhorse and with shabby equipment—so pathetic it was embarrassing to even call them a knightly order.
For such a group to project a presence greater than that of an elite unit, which a noble house would have painstakingly trained for years, was virtually impossible.
That's why I came up with the idea of hunting wanted criminals.
I had long since identified the locations of wanted criminals in Comrat through the beggars, and I wiped them all out in one fell swoop right before the departure ceremony.
Through actions, not words.
It's the surest way to earn people's trust.
If our blood-splattered appearance made them think of battle-hardened veterans, then all the better.
My plan was a spectacular success.
“Waaaaah!”
“Long live the Relief Knights!”
The citizens' cheers.
*Grind.*
The sight of the Young Lord grinding his teeth, his face contorted in a scowl, was proof of it.
I glanced at Gunther.
Unlike the other mercenaries, who were hiding their excited faces in their cloaks and trying to calm their agitated breaths at the sound of the citizens chanting the Relief Knights' name, Gunther was completely unfazed.
He simply stood his ground, his cloak pulled all the way over his head.
There was something strangely natural about his posture, and I studied him several times.
To say he looked somehow accustomed to the cheers and praise of the people would be an overstatement, surely.
Of course. A beggar knight who lives by alms being used to people's cheers? Not a chance in hell.
“It's about time they took the bait.”
After a quick look at Gunther, I turned my attention back to the Giftrang contingent.
“…!”
“…!”
The furious Young Lord was shouting something, but his words were drowned out by the cheers, making it impossible to understand what he was saying.
It wasn't important anyway.
What was important now.
“I propose a duel between squires!”
Was the fact that the other side was baring its hidden claws to reclaim the initiative they had lost.
“Their squire must be the renowned genius, Lord Iden, but on this side, I only see that little squire over there.”
“It's unfair. So unfair. Why are they so desperate to crush people who've gathered for a good cause?”
“Tsk. The Young Lord must be seriously angry.”
The citizens murmured at House Giftrang's proposal, which was less of a sudden challenge and more of a malicious provocation.
No one truly believed the justification the Young Lord spouted—something about confirming if they had the skills to watch each other's backs on the battlefield, or if their incompetence would only embolden the bandits.
However, that didn't mean public opinion turned against House Giftrang's proposal.
“I hear Lord Iden's swordsmanship has reached a masterful level.”
“I don't know how it's possible at his age, but they say three afterimages appear every time he thrusts his sword, right?”
“Looks like we're in for a real treat today!”
They simply cheered at the fact that a new spectacle had been added to a departure ceremony they thought was over.
A few citizens objected that it was unfair, citing the difference in age and height between the two, but their voices were quickly drowned out by the cheers.
“Iden. I trained in the sword and spear of Giftrang under Knight Klail.”
As the atmosphere grew ripe with anticipation, the Young Lord's squire, Iden, stepped forward as if he had been waiting.
Even though our side hadn't even agreed to the duel yet.
“Yan, squire to Knight Gunther. I accept the challenge.”
Not that I had any intention of backing down, of course.
“Insolent…”
The kid's expression changed at the word 'challenge,' and he drew the sword from his waist.