Chapter 17
Chapter 17
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: An Implicit Promise (3)
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“That’s not what you said before.”
Gunther grumbled immediately.
He was clearly annoyed that the man who had practically climbed onto his master's back, pleading with him not to go, had now changed his tune in the blink of an eye.
But the situation was different now.
“What’s the difference?”
He argued that knowing the enemy's aim was useless without the strength to stop them, and even if they didn't know, they could have stopped them if they were strong enough. In the end, nothing changed.
Gunther asked what difference it made.
It was a reasonable question.
The knights of House Giftrang were probably thinking the same thing, galloping gleefully toward the signal flare without a hint of hesitation.
Of course, they likely hadn't anticipated the involvement of a sorcerer.
“Then isn't this a huge problem? I must go and warn them at once!”
I shook my head at the mounted mercenary, who had somehow returned to his original spot.
Generally, knights are terribly inept at hiding their true intentions.
If I go and tell them in advance, they’ll be unable to restrain themselves and will draw their swords on the spot, one hundred percent of the time.
If they act so rashly, the three brothers will sense it and slip away.
Sorcerers are beings that grow by preying on knights.
If the three brothers were allowed to devour the knights of House Giftrang, the West, which lacked any prominent noble houses, would be utterly helpless.
Therefore, it was all the more crucial to wait for the decisive moment.
“But if the knights of House Giftrang are caught off guard and defeated, we'll be next.”
He had a point.
“No. They won't make a move.”
My firm declaration left Anton looking bewildered.
“This is a carefully prepared banquet. They'll have the patience to wait until the main dish arrives.”
“But that very main dish is running right to them, practically begging to be eaten.”
I shook my head and said.
*Nope. Not today. The menu's changed.*
“Is there any prey in this area more appetizing than the knights of House Giftrang?”
Instead of answering Anton, who was tilting his head in confusion, I glanced over at Gunther.
“Master.”
“…?”
“Let's prepare a proper banquet.”
Gunther flinched, his body trembling.
It seemed he'd realized that he was the main dish to be served at this banquet.
* * *
“Iden! Get a grip! You're slowing us down!”
“S-Sorry!”
At Klail Giftrang's roar, which cut through the earth-shaking sound of hooves, the squire Iden startled and apologized.
“Just how much more are you going to disappoint me?”
“I'm sorry, Master.”
Iden's face was thoroughly cowed as he apologized repeatedly, all his usual confidence gone.
“Iden!”
“S-Sorry! Master!”
The same scene repeated itself several times.
Iden's face, as he kept repeating ‘sorry,’ looked as if his soul had left his body.
He had been in this state ever since the departure ceremony ended.
It seemed the shock of being defeated in a single blow during the squires' duel was immense.
After all, how could a boy who'd grown up hearing nothing but praise, being called a prodigy and a genius, have ever experienced such a harsh blow?
Everyone clearly understood his feelings, but no one stepped forward to offer words of comfort.
With his master not consoling him, it would be a potential slight to the master's honor for others to intervene.
Besides, the situation was not good.
*Bang!*
That was already the second red signal.
They had no time to slow down just to comfort one young squire.
They had to join the free knights as quickly as possible.
If they dawdled and the free knights hired in the name of Giftrang were wiped out, the disgrace would stain the family's name.
“Tsk. I'm not pleased with any of them.”
The young lord's complaint made Iden flinch, but the young lord wasn't looking at his squire.
He was gazing far off, beyond the hill where the signal flare had risen.
He was already annoyed that men who should have been guarding the camp had rushed out on their own, but their pathetic display of sending a distress signal, unable to handle a mere band of brigands, was truly pitiful.
“Increase the pace!”
But since he couldn't just leave them, the young lord kicked his horse's flank.
*Bang!*
Just then, a third signal flare went off.
It was some distance from the first and second flares, a bit farther south.
“Tsk. For so-called knights, they're awfully restless.”
The thought of men who called themselves knights scurrying around like rats and firing signal flares was so shameful it made him feel disgraced to be a knight himself.
But despite his inner thoughts, the young lord turned his horse and adjusted his direction.
After riding for a good while, following the signal flares.
A group of men appeared, surrounded by brigands and in the midst of battle.
“…!”
“…!”
Upon spotting them, the thirty or so brigands scattered in all directions, terrified.
But the fleeing brigands were so swift that despite their spirited charge, they managed to catch very few.
“Knight Johanna.”
“Yes.”
“Take half the men and pursue them.”
“As you wish.”
The Yuhyeolmogi knights took half the force and broke from the formation.
“Thank you.”
“You saved us.”
“We were almost done for.”
In the meantime, the free knights who had narrowly escaped death approached and offered their thanks.
The young lord looked at them with a cold expression.
He had wondered what kind of men, as knights, couldn't handle a mere band of brigands and were being chased, but seeing them in person was even more pathetic.
They weren't even properly armored, standing there in baggy clothes clutching only their blades, looking worse than common mercenaries.
They were substandard knights, lacking the dignity and honor that a knight should possess.
The young lord's gaze grew even colder.
Once this was over, he intended to hold the Free Knights' Guild, which had recommended such worthless men, fully accountable.
“You were clearly instructed to guard the camp until we arrived.”
“Those brigand bastards were causing trouble nearby. How could any man who calls himself a knight stand by and watch?”
“Tsk. But I suppose it's fine for a man who calls himself a knight to be chased by a band of brigands.”
“Now that you mention it, that's true too. Hahaha.”
The free knights, who laughed foolishly without a hint of shame, began introducing themselves unprompted.
“I'm Grendel. These are my younger brothers, Geriam and Goron. And might we have the name of the knight who saved us?”
Finding their rude and shameless behavior not even worth a response, the young lord glanced at Iden.
“This is Knight Klail, the young lord of House Komlat Giftrang! All of you, show some respect!”
“Oh! So you're a man of high birth!”
The free knights' faces lit up.
“It seems we've unintentionally troubled someone important.”
“As that loud-voiced squire said, we ought to show proper respect.”
“Perhaps we should kneel to convey our sincerity.”
As if they had no pride, the free knights approached as if they were actually going to kneel.
“Young Lord. There's a messenger…!”
The laughable farce was brought to an abrupt end by the sudden appearance of a messenger.
“I'm from the guild! I have an urgent message!”
It was a mounted mercenary from the Free Knights' Guild.
The insolent mercenary shouted from a distance, not even dismounting his horse.
“A knight who heard news of the brigand subjugation and joined late is on his way here now to lend a hand!”
“What difference will one more of those damn free knights make? We don't need—”
“He is one who has come all this way from beyond the mountains in pursuit of great glory.”
The young lord, already in a foul mood from the free knights' disgraceful behavior, was about to refuse the meeting, but the mounted mercenary's next words made him reconsider.
“Beyond the mountains…?”
“Unfortunately, I have not been granted the honor of speaking his glorious name.”
The messenger's manner of introduction was exactly like the antics of high-ranking knights from the great houses beyond the mountains.
It wasn't as if their names would wear out from being spoken by others, yet they were all so arrogant.
“Hmm.”
The young lord fell into thought for a moment.
Already vexed by the pathetic free knights, he worried this might be a waste of time.
“Very well. I shall meet him.”
It was a decision made after some deliberation.
“Time and place are of no importance when forming a bond with one who truly knows honor.”
Considering his future advance into the heart of the empire beyond the mountains, it wouldn't hurt to know a knight from a great house.
At his words, the messenger gave a deep bow and then disappeared somewhere.
And three pairs of eyes were watching.
* * *
Grendel and his brothers exchanged glances.
*'What should we do?'*
Their plan, a year in the making, was on the verge of fruition.
Their plan was to devour the brat before them—a mere collateral branch member acting all high and mighty—and then pick off the subjugation force's knights one by one as they returned.
If not for the sudden appearance of the messenger, they would have done just that.
*'Judging by that grand introduction, he doesn't seem to be an ordinary knight.'*
*'Those knight bastards have always been full of bravado. We might miss a golden opportunity just to catch some blowhard.'*
The three brothers couldn't decide easily.
*'But what if he really is a great knight...?'*
*'We could enjoy a feast incomparable to devouring these backwater country knights.'*
The immense benefit they could gain if their opponent was truly a high-ranking knight made them hesitate.
In truth, the answer had been decided from the start.
*'Let's wait and eat.'*
To achieve greater satisfaction, enduring a moment of hunger was nothing.
Besides, they were confident they could cook up these country bumpkin knights, who believed them to be staunch allies, whenever they pleased.
The three brothers pretended to tend to their wounds, settling down not far from the Giftrang brat to bide their time.
Waiting for the banquet that would soon begin.
But the mysterious knight, who seemed like he would come charging in at any moment raising a cloud of dust, only arrived late into the night, long after all the knights who had pursued the brigands had returned.
A torch flickered in the distance.
“Make way! Make way! Make way! Make way!”
The young lord frowned at the frivolous voice carried faintly on the wind.
He disliked the leisurely pace of this guest who appeared in the middle of the night without a hint of urgency, and found it ridiculous how they kept shouting for people to make way when no one was blocking them.
The spectacle they made, scattering flower petals from who knows where, was a sight to behold.
A scene straight out of a cheap play.
“Greetings! I am Sasha, a bard in service to the Knight! It is an honor to meet the renowned knights of Giftrang!”
A lanky, stick-thin boy shouted.
He'd thought it was a squire, but it seemed to be a bard.
It was the moment the last vestiges of doubt vanished from the minds of the three brothers, who had been suspicious until the very end.
After all, the only vain fools in the entire world who would drag along a personal bard to sing their praises were those from the great houses.