Chapter 84
Chapter 84
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 84
Chapter Title: The Squires' Folly
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“That knight didn’t enter the castle?”
“Yeah. They say he set up his lodgings in the tent village of the free knights outside the walls.”
“Hmm.”
As Yung Dirhit narrowed his eyes slightly, his fellow Holy Knight shrugged.
“No need to worry about it, right? He’s entering the knight tournament anyway. Whether it’s the jousting or the swordsmanship contest, we can just take him out when the chance comes.”
“Exactly. One of us three is bound to face him, so we can smash him then.”
“…….”
Even as his two comrades spoke, Dirhit sank into thought without replying.
“Dirhit, you’re too cautious for your own good. Honestly, it’s ridiculous that we’ve come all this way for some backwater knight.”
“Tch. What was the cardinal thinking? Even if we win here, it doesn’t help the church. We’d be better off continuing our original mission to track down that black mage.”
“No.”
Dirhit flatly denied it and continued in a cold voice.
“Simply winning elevates the church’s prestige. And it gives a lesson to those who dare to underestimate the church and Holy Knights without knowing their place.”
“Hmm.”
“Think about it. Ever since the bishop of the Nordic diocese on the Kalsbagen Peninsula returned like that, how have those nobles been treating the church? Especially the city folk led by Maren? They’re trying to buy off the clergy with gold and sever the central church’s influence.”
“Those irreverent scum!”
“Those corrupt city dwellers need the judgment of heavenly fire, and the sooner the better!”
The Holy Knights’ mood turned vicious in an instant.
Dirhit said quietly.
“You’re right. Under the pretext of spreading God’s word and mercy, we’ve focused too much on monster hunting. Sometimes we need to show the church’s authority by worldly standards. And this knight tournament is the perfect opportunity.”
“So you’re saying we sweep the jousting, swordsmanship contest, and mock battle?”
“Exactly.”
If the Holy Knights dominated all three events, they could imprint the majesty of the church and its Holy Knights on every noble and knight in the kingdom.
“Besides, shouldn’t we punish that arrogant fool who dared to scorn the church based on his petty achievements in some village?”
At Dirhit’s words, the knights’ expressions grew icy.
“Hmph! I hope he faces me in the jousting. I’d smash his skull in God’s name.”
“Ease up and give me a shot. Better to lop off his hands and feet in the swordsmanship contest, no?”
“Whatever it takes, let’s give that punk a proper lesson. But first, we need to find out why he hasn’t entered the castle. He might’ve heard about us already and be plotting to flee in fear.”
“I heard he came with a letter of recommendation from Count Winslon’s son-in-law. With that kind of face to save, he can’t just run off.”
Dirhit nodded at his comrade’s sharp guess.
“True enough. But settling in the tent village instead of an inn bothers me. Hmm—Lloyd, Yorente. You two go check it out.”
“Yes, sir.”
One of the confident squires replied, then cautiously added.
“But sir, what if we end up facing that knight?”
“Hmm.”
Dirhit stroked his chin as he eyed the squires.
Both were in their mid-to-late teens—young, but talented youths who had undergone rigorous knight training since they were seven or eight.
If that arrogant country knight truly had some skill, as the royalists in Maren claimed in their letter, these two squires would make perfect test opponents.
“Good. But don’t give him any pretext. You know what I mean?”
“Of course.”
The two squires exchanged glances and shared meaningful smiles.
Against some simpleminded country knight, they could overwhelm him anytime with the eloquent speech honed by their superior education. Buoyed by that thought, the squires cheerfully headed out the door.
* * *
“Ugh! What’s that smell?”
“As if this were a pigsty. Even the slums of Pollyma would be better than this.”
The moment they entered the tent village, Holy Knight squires Lloyd and Yorente scowled deeply, covering their noses and mouths.
Having been born to noble houses and raised solely in the pristine church, they naturally recoiled at the chaotic atmosphere and stench of the tent village.
“How could an honorable knight live in a place like this?”
“Must be because they’re uncultured and ignorant. Ugh!”
Lloyd and Yorente walked through the tent village without hiding their disgust.
Freelance knights and squires lounging outside shot them sidelong glances. Some glared openly.
They had donned brown hoods to blend in, covering their bodies and faces. But as they walked, the church emblem embroidered on their inner garments flashed intermittently.
‘Those bastards are flashing it?’
‘Might as well show it outright. Typical church dogs.’
Not even real Holy Knights—just obvious squires flashing their affiliation. The stares were hardly friendly.
But Lloyd and Yorente mistook those looks for envy and strutted through the village proudly.
They approached the one with the mildest look.
“Hey, do you know where Sir Eugene’s lodgings are?”
“……?”
Lloyd scowled at the sullen glare.
“Deaf? I asked where Sir Eugene’s lodgings are.”
“Hmm. With so many knights around, he probably doesn’t know who that is.”
As Yorente stepped in, Lloyd smacked his lips and nodded.
“Well, a knight with barely any fame from some backwater might not ring a bell.”
“What did you just say?”
The sullen-faced man snapped fiercely.
“Not deaf, huh? I asked where Knight Eugene’s lodgings are.”
“No, not that. Repeat what you said about backwater this and that.”
A slightly unique accent in the kingdom’s tongue.
“What?”
Lloyd gawked incredulously, then straightened up and enunciated clearly.
“I said a knight with mouse-dung fame from some backwater might not be well-known. Why?”
Shwick! Thwack!
“Gahk!”
A lightning-fast fist sent Lloyd’s jaw whipping around as he toppled backward. Mud mixed with filth splattered all over his hood and pants.
Wahahaha!
The onlookers who had been watching the three burst into laughter and cheers.
“Well done! Luke!”
“This punk’s got a mean punch!”
“He’ll cry! Gotta be gentle with delicate young ladies!”
As the knights openly mocked them, Lloyd and Yorente jumped up, faces flushed beet red.
They were refined squires of Holy Knights, tempered in body and mind by faith and etiquette.
This humiliating situation—the first of its kind in their lives—was enough to shatter their reason.
Shring!
“State your name and your master’s!”
“You dishonorable cur! I’ll hold your master accountable for this cowardly sneak attack!”
With a clear metallic ring, Lloyd and Yorente drew their longswords.
The laughing, jeering onlookers fell suddenly silent.
Though hardened and simplified by years of wandering like mercenaries, everyone here was a freelance knight or their squire.
No one was ignorant of what it meant to draw first and invoke honor and masters—or how grave it was.
Especially when the man in question was a knight of lofty fame who never boasted, respected them, and mingled freely.
“Crazy bastards.”
“Daring to draw swords here?”
“Look like green squires who haven’t even finished their training. Out of their minds.”
Savage voices rose from all around, making Lloyd and Yorente flinch at last.
‘Oh no!’
‘What a blunder.’
But their regret was overshadowed by greater resentment and rage toward the man who caused this.
“Speak!”
“Who is your master?!”
“What’s with all the noise?”
Then, a tent flap parted, and a man in just an outer garment appeared.
“Master.”
Luke bowed quickly as Lloyd snarled.
“Are you this scum’s master, sir?”
“So what?”
“That dishonorable wretch punched me first! A knight is his squire’s mirror! What kind of training have you…….”
“He’s not my squire. He’s my slave.”
“Sl… slave?”
Lloyd muttered blankly for a moment, then twisted his face and whipped his head around.
“How dare a slave punch me! I’ll kill him!”
A slave wasn’t a person but property.
That didn’t mean you could abuse others’ slaves freely.
But nobles could kill slaves with just compensation.
Hearing “slave,” Lloyd swung his longsword at Luke without hesitation.
Clang!
Luke, hand already on his belt, parried with his shortsword.
“……!”
Even in rage, Lloyd’s eyes widened as his trained strike as a Holy Knight squire was blocked by mere slave.
Luke didn’t miss the split-second opening.
Crack!
He twisted his wrist to pull the foe’s sword inward, then lunged deep into Lloyd’s guard.
“Th……!”
As the startled Lloyd recoiled to recover, Luke’s fully reversed sword snapped forward like a spring.
Crunch!
“Argh!”
The protruding pommel on the shortsword’s hilt smashed Lloyd’s forehead.
Blood gushed from his brow as he collapsed. Luke, dagger now drawn, pounced like a beast.
“Lloyd!”
The shocked Yorente screamed and moved to intervene when a pale shadow flashed before him.
Clang!
Luke’s dagger was blocked by Eugene’s gauntlet.
Woooaaah!
“Did you see that? Sir Eugene just moved!”
“Saw it, but whoa!”
“Too fast! As expected of Sir Eugene!”
Amid the freelance knights’ admiring shouts, Eugene said.
“Can’t just kill recklessly. Looks like Holy Knight squires—could cause trouble later.”
“Sorry, Master! I overstepped.”
Luke sheathed his dagger swiftly, calming down and bowing to Eugene.
“And you.”
Eugene’s cold gaze passed Luke to Yorente.
Eugene’s left hand gripped the tip of Yorente’s longsword, poised to stab Luke.
“Who taught you this dirty trick? Do Holy Knights now teach stabbing duelists in the back?”
Still holding the longsword, Eugene stepped forward. Yorente strained to pull it free.
“Urk!”
But the tough, monster-hide gauntlet held firm.
Instead, unable to match Eugene’s one-handed strength, the sword flailed embarrassingly in midair.
Then came the most humiliating fate for an aspiring knight.
Whoosh!
Ooooh!
Eugene yanked the sword away with acrobatic flair, drawing cheers from the onlookers.
“……!”
To the stunned, shamed Yorente, Eugene slung the seized blade over his shoulder.
“Want it back? Bring your master.”
“Hah!”
“‘A knight is his squire’s mirror,’ right? I want to ask about your training. And settle your cowardly ambush.”
“I-I just!”
Ignoring Yorente, Eugene scanned the crowd.
“Save your lies. Plenty of witnesses here. Right, sirs?”
“Damn right!”
“We’re your witnesses!”
“Bring your master! Fetch that great Holy Knight!”
Woooaaah!
Dozens of freelance knights roared in fervor.
“Keeheeheehee! Silver’s power is the best! Always fresh! Thrilling!”
Eugene wholeheartedly agreed with Mirian’s cheeky words.
(To be continued)