Chapter 117
Chapter 117
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 117
Chapter Title: The Return of Bosch's Son
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“This is proving harder to talk our way out of than I thought.”
“The castle’s half-destroyed, and you killed off that many knights and soldiers. I’d say any chance of patching things up went out the window a long time ago.”
Galpredic chimed in agreement with Lanslo’s words.
Ulfgang protested as if deeply wronged.
“The castle’s only half-destroyed. And I didn’t kill a single one of them. I just smashed up a few spots here and there.”
“And you call that a defense? What about slaughtering all their livestock?”
“The villagers kept mouthing off, so I lost my temper.”
“Fine, livestock aside—what about the villagers?”
As Eugene’s cold voice cut through, Ulfgang seemed to sense the mood shifting oddly. He glanced around nervously, looking a bit deflated.
“We didn’t touch the villagers. Though in all the chaos, a few buildings might’ve gotten blown away... or something like that...”
“You wrecked the village too.”
“Yep. And it wasn’t even that long ago, so no one’s forgotten.”
Galpredic and Lanslo clicked their tongues at the feeble excuses.
It was the picture of a total disaster.
Eugene swallowed a sigh and turned to Ulfgang and the Beowulf warriors.
“Starting right now, this instant—you obey my orders. No matter what they say over there. No matter what they do. Without my command, no speaking. No acting. Nothing.”
“Grr. Got it.”
“First order. Turn human.”
The moment Eugene finished speaking, the Beowulf warriors released their transformations.
Having undone their shifts in front of the group several times already, neither the men nor the women seemed particularly embarrassed about ending up stark naked.
“To the count’s castle.”
The warriors, now dressed in sack-like clothes, trailed eagerly behind Eugene’s party.
It was a profoundly comical sight, but Eugene paid it no mind.
His head was filled only with worries about how to mend the far more tangled relationship between the Beowulf and Krolmarin territory than he’d anticipated.
“Any ideas? Some way to fix this?”
“Hard to say.”
Eugene smacked his lips at Lanslo’s question.
‘Compensation’s a must to start, but groveling won’t cut it. Hell, those mutts aren’t the groveling type anyway.’
Subduing them by force?
That was the worst option.
Eugene’s goal was to claim the title of Duke of Bartla.
Botching the first impression with the influential Krolmarin family—right next door and prominent in southern Brantia—would surely have repercussions.
“Guess I’ll have to meet the count first to figure something out.”
No clear answers emerged from his brooding, so Eugene urged his horse faster.
* * *
“Halt!”
Eugene’s party was stopped right at the entrance to the village below the count’s castle.
Knights in chain mail over their upper bodies and soldiers in crude leather armor surrounded them, making no effort to hide their tension and hostility.
“The Count of Krolmarin’s direct village wants no trouble. Especially not from those types! Turn back.”
The guard captain glared at the Beowulf warriors, hand resting on his sword hilt, ready to draw at a moment’s notice. His fingers trembled faintly—he clearly feared the Beowulf greatly.
Eugene raised his visor and softened his expression as much as possible.
“I am Knight Yan Eugene, backed by the city of Mungard. Luke.”
At Eugene’s glance, Luke dismounted and swiftly handed something to the guard captain.
It was the identification badge the new Mungard mayor had made for Eugene.
Even if the man was illiterate, the mayor had boasted that Mungard’s city emblem was famous enough for anyone beyond the deepest countryside to recognize it.
But the guard captain skimmed it halfheartedly before handing it back.
“Who backs you means nothing. Krolmarin welcomes no outsiders—especially armed ones. And those types least of all!”
“Milord, milord. This guy’s repeating himself like a broken human.”
Mirian whispered, and Eugene inwardly smacked his lips in regret.
He’d expected resistance, but not this stubborn from the outset.
Of course, brute force could pry the gates open easily enough.
But in that case, while others might enter, he and Galpredic still couldn’t set foot in the village.
Vampires couldn’t enter villages or buildings with walls and fences without permission from a representative resident—some invisible force would repel them.
And in this situation, the guard captain before them qualified as a representative of Krolmarin.
‘Hmm. What now.’
Eugene frowned slightly and glanced at his companions. Then his eyes landed on one person.
‘Ah! Of course!’
How had he overlooked this? He felt ridiculous even to himself.
Without betraying a hint, Eugene addressed the guard captain in his most ‘noble’ demeanor.
“I am Knight Yan Eugene. I share deep ties with the honorable house of Krolmarin.”
“W-what?”
As the guard captain’s eyes widened in confusion at this new tack, Eugene grabbed someone’s shoulder and continued.
“This one. A man who knows Krolmarin’s honor and will. My squire, Luke Bosch.”
“...!?”
“M-Master?”
The guard captain wasn’t the only one stunned—even Luke himself, and everyone else, gaped.
“Kieeeek! Squire Number Two at this timing? Kyaa! As expected, our milord always has a plan!”
Plan my ass—it was improvised.
“Whoa! Never saw that coming.”
“Indeed.”
The reactions suggested the improvisation might actually land well.
Sure enough, the guard captain stared wide-eyed between Eugene and Luke before his eyes bulged even further in shock.
“L-Luke Bosch!? Son of Knight Bosch? Wasn’t he dead?”
“Luke.”
At his sky-like master’s call, Luke snapped to attention.
The boy, remarkably mature and sharp for his age, grasped Eugene’s intent immediately and spoke with calm composure.
“I fought bravely as a son of Krolmarin, but was captured by the knights of the Central Church and made prisoner. Then sold into slavery in a territory of the Kailer Kingdom...”
Eugene and the others learned for the first time just how eloquent Luke could be.
He recounted how he’d ended up as Eugene’s slave, their subsequent adventures, and the circumstances that made him a squire—sometimes flatly, sometimes vividly.
The tale was so gripping that even the soldiers and Beowulf warriors edged closer to listen.
Partek’s crew, who’d been with Eugene since the early days of Luke’s joining, and even the spirit of desire perked up their ears.
“And so, my master embodied shining honor and upright knighthood by taking a mere slave like me as his squire. This true knight, happening upon my homeland, wishes to pay respects to Lord Krolmarin. So please, sir, take our circumstances into account.”
Luke’s long account ended with a polite bow.
Eugene subtly checked the guard captain’s expression.
His eyes twitched nonstop, lips quivering—he seemed on the verge...
“Krolmarin heartily welcomes the return of this land’s proud son! Sir Eugene, you are a true and genuine knight. And as for you lot.”
The Beowulf warriors flinched under the guard captain’s gaze.
“For Sir Eugene’s honor, I’ll recommend to the count that you get a chance to explain and apologize. Open the gates! Welcome the returned son of Krolmarin, the honorable and merciful knight, and the prodigals!”
Waaaaah!
The anxious Beowulf warriors and the soldiers who’d been wiping away sighs and tears united in cheers.
* * *
“Bosch? Son of that Knight Bosch?”
“Yes, my lord. Miraculously survived the Central Church’s lapdogs, and returns as squire to a brave, honorable knight backed by Mungard.”
Ooo...!
The nobles of Count Krolmarin’s castle murmured in admiration.
The war that had ravaged Krolmarin territory in the past still lingered as a wound.
Yet the son of a Krolmarin knight had returned alive—and not just any son, but as squire to a knight of promising renown.
“That’s tremendous! The sacred spirits of Brantia and Krolmarin must be watching over him.”
But despite his beaming face, Count Lucas burned inwardly.
‘How did that kid survive and come back? This is bad.’
“Uh, and one more thing...”
“And?”
“Sir Yan Eugene brought the Perseos Beowulf with him.”
“W-what!?”
Uwooo!
The startled Count Lucas and nobles listened as the guard captain hurriedly continued.
“H-Here’s how it happened...”
The guard captain recounted as earnestly as possible the Beowulf’s exploits alongside Eugene for the region’s benefit—and that they’d come seeking proper compensation and apology.
“Hmm! They’re already inside—no helping it now.”
“Yes. And those scoundrels seemed to obey Sir Eugene perfectly. Might be worth giving them a chance to speak, my lord?”
“Hmm.”
Count Lucas furrowed his brow.
‘Son of Knight Bosch. And the Beowulf rabble. Ah! Could this...?’
The count’s deliberation didn’t last long.
“Bring them in. An honorable knight and Krolmarin’s proud son are worth meeting, even if we set aside those ruffians.”
“Yes, my lord.”
After a few minutes of Count Lucas masking his anxiety with a dignified expression, Eugene’s party and the Beowulf warriors filed into the great hall.
Eugene, helmet tucked under his left arm, right hand on his Ulfsloat guard, gave a continental knight’s greeting with a slight bow, representing the group.
“Lord of Eugene territory in Kalsbargin. Knight backed by Maren, Mopern, and Mungard. Honored friend of Marquis Archibald and Count Winslon. I am Yan Eugene.”
His black hair, neatly trimmed, framed red eyes sparkling like starlight—Eugene’s features were profoundly mysterious and refined.
Unlike the rugged lines common in Brantian men, his beauty drew gasps of admiration from the nobles.
“What a stunningly handsome knight.”
“A port city trio backing such a fine-looking knight? His skills must be exceptional.”
“Look at that beautiful armor. Never seen its like. Owning such artistry marks a great knight.”
“Winslon’s one of the top nobles in Kailer Kingdom by repute. Hidden child or lover, perhaps?”
In Brantia, nobles commonly kept one or two lovers regardless of gender, so the nobles lavished praise and envy on Eugene’s looks.
“And.”
Eugene’s introduction wasn’t over. The nobles hushed their whispers and focused again.
Fwaaa...
Releasing just a hint of his presence, Eugene bared slightly elongated fangs and continued.
“From the continent. Also of the Dark Clan.”
Ooooooh!
A greater wave of admiration filled the hall.
True to their familiarity with other races, the nobles weren’t shocked that Eugene was a vampire.
Sunlight streamed into the hall from various spots.
The fact that he showed his face without fear meant one thing clearly.
“One who walks in daylight!? A noble of the Dark Clan!”
“Heard tales, but first time seeing one.”
“True. No wonder those dog-like thugs obey him. An incredible figure has visited our Krolmarin!”
Indeed.
Vampires who could roam unharmed in broad daylight were exceedingly rare even in Brantia.
Naturally, Eugene had revealed his nature deliberately.
In Count Krolmarin’s castle, he needed to steer events not by force but by other means—and high status was as potent a tool as raw power.
(To be continued in the next installment)