Chapter 8
Chapter 8
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: A War for Knights
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‘A war by knights.’
‘A battle for knights.’
‘A fight among knights.’
If you were to summarize the Great War in three sentences, it would be something like that.
And if you stripped away all the extraneous words, only one phrase would remain.
‘Knights hogging everything for themselves.’
No joke, that’s really how it was.
The knights who survived that period, having endured all sorts of brutal battles, were capable of annihilating a small, well-trained unit, even the least distinguished among them.
A knight in full plate armor was no different from a walking fortress.
Dealing with these monstrous behemoths required weapons of a similar caliber.
That’s where anti-knight weaponry came in.
All sorts of bizarre weapons were developed and deployed to take down knights who could be here one moment and gone the next.
Most of them were useless, but a select few were improved upon again and again until they became quite effective.
Did that make the knights cautious? Not at all.
These incarnations of pride, who had lost the ability to distinguish between danger and a challenge the moment they took their vows, would never admit they could be killed by the hands of a mere commoner.
Far from being cautious, they rampaged about as if to prove a point.
And the ones ground to dust in the process were the shield-bearers, the squires.
There was no brand more terrible than that of a squire who failed to protect their master on the battlefield. To avoid dishonor, squires had to protect their masters with their lives.
The foolish ones used their own bodies, while the clever ones found ways to counter by acquiring anti-knight weapons and mastering their use.
I was one of them.
The only difference was that my master was the infamous Roman.
The knights of that era were so worn down that, depending on the situation, they could conveniently ignore certain articles of chivalry.
If a few conditions were met, they would readily swallow their pride and chivalry and attack in groups.
One of those conditions was the ‘living disaster, Roman.’
The moment Roman appeared on the battlefield, knights swarmed him like bees.
And I was the one who paid the price.
‘That’s Roman’s squire! Without him, Roman is alone!’
‘Let’s see if he’s still so arrogant after losing his precious squire!’
The number of knights who came after me, the easier target, instead of that inhuman monster was enough to form an entire knightly order.
And yet, I survived.
I did so by not only actively using anti-knight weapons—a taboo for squires—but also by modifying and improving them myself.
Naturally, my head was filled with the principles and rough schematics of the numerous weapons that defined the late Great War.
If I wanted to, I could release them into the world right now and make a fortune.
That is, if I was prepared to become the public enemy of the Imperial knights and be hunted for the rest of my life.
“You got anything else besides this? I’ll pay you handsomely.”
Therefore, I couldn’t accept the old blacksmith’s offer.
“For now, that’s all.”
For now, that was the case.
“Hoh. For now, you say. For now.”
The old man nodded once, disappeared into the back of the smithy, and returned.
“This is all the money I have on me at the moment. If I could, I’d take out a loan to give you more, but if word gets out that a blacksmith is in urgent need of cash, it becomes hard to acquire good quality iron. I hope you understand.”
He came back with a heavy pouch.
I hadn't even named a price yet, but the pouch he handed me was truly heavy.
After a quick glance at the amount inside, I took out half, put it in my own pouch, and returned the rest.
“This is our first transaction. I’ll just take this much for the sake of our future business.”
“Our first transaction, eh? I never knew those words could sound so pleasant. Hahaha.”
The old man, who laughed as heartily as he spent, spoke with a generous expression.
“Since you gave me a gift for our first deal, I’ll give you one in return. Look forward to it in four days.”
A gift from a stubborn old blacksmith was an unexpected boon.
“I hope to see you for a long time to come, and often, if possible.”
“I’ll be staying in Komlat for a while, so I’m sure we will.”
Feeling much better off, I offered my farewells and was about to turn away when I glanced back at the old man.
“Just in case…”
“Rest assured. No one will know of today’s business. I swear it on my forge.”
With my business concluded, I had no reason to linger, but the old man insisted on seeing me out.
“May the blessing of Honeul damneun Cheolgong be with you.”
I tilted my head at the grand farewell.
Honeul damneun Cheolgong.
The name was familiar.
An Ascendant who, unusually, had achieved their status not through self-cultivation but through the completion of a divine sword.
Unlike the other Stars, this one was said to be revered like a god among civilians, especially those in professions that dealt with iron. It seemed the old man was one of his followers.
*Huh? Who’s that, for the forge geezer to be giving him such a blessing?*
*Is he an apostle of the Smith or something?*
The unusually grand send-off had drawn all the nearby blacksmiths, who were now whispering amongst themselves.
“Ah, yes. May you receive many blessings as well, old man.”
Fearing I’d draw more attention if I lingered, I gave a hasty reply and left the blacksmiths’ alley.
“Hmph, hmph.”
My coin purse was heavier, and by rights, my steps should have been just as heavy, but I felt as light as a feather.
I hummed a tune as I walked toward the street of inns.
“Hm.”
When I returned, Gunther was sitting at a table on the first floor.
But his expression was uncharacteristically serious, as if something had happened while I was gone.
“Master? What’s the matter?”
I hurried over and asked.
“Well.”
He replied in a deeply somber tone.
“There is something I do not wish to do, yet I have no way of avoiding it. I was just lamenting my predicament.”
His words made no sense to me, and I could only blink in confusion.
“Goodness, Sir Knight. Are you still at it? The water’s going to get cold.”
The innkeeper appeared just in time to reveal the whole story.
“Don’t tell me you’re acting like this because you don’t want to take a bath?”
So this whole situation was because he didn’t want to take a bath.
“If you hadn’t paid the advance, I wouldn't be in this predicament. This is truly vexing. Vexing.”
Gunther’s attitude, blaming me instead, was that of a child in a grown man’s body.
I knew from experience that bringing up the dignity of the House of Giftrang would be useless in this situation.
“Forget it. Just know this. If that bathwater gets cold, it’ll cost more money to heat it up again.”
“Just for the price of the firewood, one persil, and I’ll have it piping hot for you.”
“...!”
When dealing with a Geojigisa, a single coin was always more effective than the name Giftrang.
Gunther shot up from his seat and scrambled up to the second floor.
“Hah.”
It was like forcing a child who hates baths to get clean.
With a sigh, I asked the innkeeper if there was a place where I could buy a coat and cloak to wear over my armor.
“There’s no proper tailor, but an old woman named Maria has a few nimble-fingered women working under her who do that sort of thing. But I’m not sure if their work will meet a knight’s standards.”
I wasn’t looking for any special patterns or embroidery; as long as it was sturdy, it would be fine.
I casually tossed him a coin, which the innkeeper snatched out of the air before disappearing in a flash.
*Creak.*
A moment later, the inn door opened.
I thought the owner had returned, but familiar faces appeared in the doorway.
They were the mercenaries from the guild office. Among them was the one I’d hit with my staff.
“Huh? You’re that…!”
“Anton’s Despair and Frustration?”
“The squire who taught Garon’s shin a lesson?”
It seemed the mercenary I’d hit was named Garon.
Still, why did these people insist on remembering me with such bizarre nicknames instead of my actual name?
“Not Despair and Frustration. Don’t care about Garon’s shin. Just Yan. It’s Yan.”
I once again politely told them my name.
“So. Esquire Yan. You got a hefty advance, so why aren’t you staying somewhere nicer?”
I frowned at Garon’s question, but the mercenary next to him smacked him on the back of the head.
“You son of a bitch. If you don’t fix that mouth of yours, you’re gonna get yourself shanked for real one day.”
Now a mercenary who’d had lessons taught to both his shin and the back of his head, Garon spoke with an abashed look.
“Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t trying to be sarcastic, just said it ‘cause I was glad to see you.”
The mercenary who’d hit him chimed in to support Garon.
“What he said earlier was probably meant as sincere advice, too. A lowly sellsword who lives by the blade giving advice to someone. Hah. How pathetic.”
“It’s because I’ve stared death in the face countless times that I can give such advice! You have to live life fiercely…”
“What’s this madman rambling about? Can’t get his head straight.”
Watching them bicker, they didn’t seem as rough and unruly as I’d thought.
Of course, some guys like this could suddenly turn on you and shoot an arrow in your back on the battlefield, but since they were being friendly for now, it would be poor form to keep my guard up.
“So. What brings you mercenary-uncles here?”
“Ah. We usually stay here too. For Komlat, the price is decent and the service is friendly. The owner is a real money-grubber, but you won’t find a better place.”
The mercenaries extended their hands, saying we’d be seeing each other often, so we should get along.
I didn’t hesitate to shake each of their hands.
“So, about that.”
Once the atmosphere had loosened up, the one in charge of Garon’s head, Bok, spoke in a suggestive tone.
“We have a favor to ask.”
Seeing his subtle tone and expression, I thought to myself.
*Of course.*
Why else would battle-hardened mercenaries act so friendly?
They wanted something.
I straightened my posture and looked at Bok, ready to at least hear what their favor was.
“We need your help negotiating with the guild.”
In short, they wanted me to be there to give them advice so the ruthless Anton couldn’t lowball them on the terms.
“We’ll make it worth your while.”
Honestly, it wasn’t a difficult task for me.
It wasn’t as if I hadn’t helped other squires or mercenaries with similar problems in my past life.
“Alri…”
I was about to readily accept in exchange for a reasonable fee when I clamped my mouth shut.
A plan far more mutually beneficial than simple meddling had just popped into my head.
“I have a much better idea. Care to hear it?”
“A better way?”
“Your ears.”
*Whisper, whisper.*
I briefly explained my improvised plan.
“Hoh. So there’s a way like that…”
“That would certainly keep Giftrang from casually using us as sword-fodder…”
“And the guild would have no choice but to back us…”
Amazement dawned on the mercenaries’ faces as they heard the gist of the plan.
“Do you learn things like that when you become a squire?”
“How does that little head of yours come up with such schemes? Ah, that was a compliment.”
“Why didn’t we think of that?”
They were so impressed by such a simple thing that I was the one who felt embarrassed.
“Are all squires like that?”
Bok asked then.
I couldn’t find an answer to the out-of-context question and just stared at him until he elaborated.
“I mean, are they all like you, Esquire Yan?”
Finally understanding the question, I thought for a moment before answering.
I told them that any squire with about as much experience as me could pull off something like this.
“Hee-yah. So it’s not just the knights we have to be scared of.”
“If Esquire Yan, who’s not even an adult yet, is this capable, I can’t imagine what other squires are like…”
As the mercenaries shook their heads as if they’d had enough, I asked them.
“So. Are you in or out?”