Chapter 199: Champion Balak
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 199: Champion Balak
The ship lurched with every wave that crashed against its bow. The contrast between the merchants, who clutched their luggage as if it were a spare life, and the sailors, who swayed their bodies as if riding the waves, was stark. Boatman was one of the latter.
“The northern part of the Southern Continent is made up of small islands and straits, so the currents are naturally fast. This means we’re getting close.”
I had wondered why the sailors looked so cheerful despite the high waves, and it turned out to be because the end of their long voyage was in sight.
And just as he said, it wasn't long before the silhouette of the Southern Continent appeared like a shadow through the thin sea mist. The man was clearly an expert.
Throughout the voyage, I had been pondering how to become Vivian’s guard knight, and I decided to seek help from Boatman, a local.
“How does one become a guard knight for a high noble?”
Of course, I didn’t reveal my true objective.
Although Boatman had shown considerable loyalty so far, he was, at his core, a merchant. There was no guarantee he wouldn’t betray me if a greater profit was on the table.
Coming to the Southern Continent alone was a huge gamble on my part, so I had to be extra cautious. Boatman answered without much thought.
“That field is pretty much dominated by knights who were former champions. To be honest, real knights tend to avoid such positions where they can’t earn glory…”
“You mean the great warriors of the trials by combat.”
A trial by combat is a type of ordeal, a barbaric custom based on the belief that God grants victory to the righteous.
In such cases, the two parties involved in a dispute can choose to either fight themselves or send forth a champion to fight in their stead.
Usually, the more a person has to lose, the more they prefer to use a champion, as there is a real risk of death during the trial.
I recalled that the knight who had faced me when I proved my strength to Baron Rasino had also been a former champion.
“Are trials by combat common on the Southern Continent?”
“It’s a political outcome, you see. In the Southern Continent, where all sorts of factions are vying for power, a direct clash of forces always results in a third party reaping the benefits. Thus, trials by combat became popular as a way to resolve fruitless conflicts while minimizing damages.”
Perhaps because he dreamed of becoming a noble himself, Boatman was quite knowledgeable about the continent's affairs for a mere merchant. That made me trust him even more.
“So the fastest way to become a guard knight for a high noble is to build a reputation as a champion?”
“There are other ways, but for a commoner, that’s the best option.”
It wasn’t a bad method from my perspective, either. A duel was a stage where I could perform well enough using only my own abilities, without my superhuman strength.
If I reveal my strength, I’ll be found out immediately.
The problem was that the path ahead felt a bit daunting. While supporting Boatman, I had also searched for Vivian’s location, but with no success.
Still, I wasn’t entirely disappointed, because I had gained something from the effort. It was clear that Vivian was wary of assassination.
Even if she hadn't completely taken over the Southern Continent, with twenty years and knowledge of the future, Vivian must have at least become the mastermind behind a major power.
There was only one reason for her to hide herself: she feared me, the one person unaffected by her ability, showing up alone.
So, if I can properly conceal my identity and display my skills, she won’t be able to resist hiring me.
I decided to think positively. It would be a more natural flow of events for her to find me than for me to find her.
Of course, I couldn’t just sit around and wait, as that would take too long.
“Boatman. What is the most powerful faction on the Southern Continent?”
I planned to at least show the courtesy of starting my activities in a region presumed to be under her influence.
“Hmm, the Southern Continent is an arena for three great powers… The first is the traditional powerhouse, the noble faction. They have reigned as the ruling class for centuries, built on the wealth of the south. The second is…”
Listening to Boatman’s explanation, I gazed out at the sea. In the distance, the land was a blur due to the sea mist. It was the Southern Continent.
The city where I would begin my life under a new identity was Monju, a small city in the southernmost part of the south.
I chose Monju because it was the farthest city from the Western Continent and because there was a client in need of a champion.
“Give me a rough explanation.”
“The client is the husband of a woman who was raped. Upon witnessing the tragedy, he immediately pointed to a powerful figure in the city as the suspect. The accused denied it, and the husband was cornered instead. In truth, it was a fight he could never win from the start.”
“So he chose a trial by combat as a last resort?”
Boatman nodded and pointed to a spot. It was a building surrounded by a rather high wall.
Thanks to my height, I could see a little of the inside, where swordsmen were sweating profusely on a wide training ground.
“That’s the swordsmanship guild.”
“Andrei would have been envious if he saw this.”
Thanks to Andrei’s fame, his guild had a fair number of trainees, but compared to this place, it was a firefly to the full moon.
“With trials by combat in vogue, swordsmanship guilds are also thriving. But more importantly, look over there. That man is the client, Hugo.”
Hugo was an emaciated middle-aged man. He was talking to a man in a gambeson in front of the guild’s main gate.
No, it was less a conversation and more a plea, or perhaps begging. His desperate voice carried all the way to where I stood.
“Master! Please, help me! If you can’t, can’t you at least introduce me to someone else? There are so many training at the guild, are you saying there’s no one who can help me? Master! Master—!”
“Hah, Hugo. Your situation is pitiful, but there’s nothing I can do. You know who you’re up against, don’t you? If I get on his bad side, I’ll have to close up shop.”
The two seemed to know each other quite well, but the master of the swordsmanship guild wouldn’t accept Hugo’s request. Pleading didn’t change a thing.
Boatman clicked his tongue.
“It can’t be helped. His opponent is none other than the mayor’s son. And in a small city like this, the mayor’s power is often stronger than in a large one.”
“Because the opposition is bound to be smaller.”
His backer was stronger than I thought.
Then again, if he didn’t have such a powerful backer, he would have been beheaded long ago for raping a married woman. It was an era where crimes that shook the community were punished even more severely.
“Ah, he’s on the move.”
The client, Hugo, moved about busily. He tried to persuade members of the militia he knew, and even approached ruffians in the back alleys.
Of course, no one accepted his request. One had to pick their fights carefully, after all.
The more conscientious ones discreetly told him why they had to refuse.
“Hugo, it can’t be helped. Let’s say you get lucky and win the trial by combat. Do you really think the mayor will just let it go? No. Not a chance. The mayor will make sure his precious only son doesn’t get punished. He has the power to do so.”
“So you’re telling me to just let this go?!!”
“Ugh. I’m saying this for your own good!”
As Hugo’s fierce shout drew attention, even the conscientious man glanced around nervously before scurrying away.
Soon left alone, Hugo collapsed to the ground and began to sob. The townspeople forced themselves to look away.
However, it seemed Hugo had lived a decent life, as it wasn't hard to find sympathy in the fleeting glances cast his way. He was exactly the kind of client I was looking for.
“Good. You may leave now.”
Boatman was the owner of a trading company famous enough to be acquainted with nobles. He was of too high a station to be seen with a commoner who had been a mere employee.
Sticking with him would be convenient, but it would inevitably raise suspicions about our relationship. Thus, his role ended here.
“Please, take care of yourself. From now on, I will have my subordinates deliver information. They will know you only as another messenger, so you won’t have to worry about a trail leading back to you.”
“I’ll trust you. Until we meet again.”
Boatman gave a respectful nod with his eyes and departed.
I followed Hugo. Not having given up yet, he went around meeting quite a few people. But not a single one readily agreed to help. His final steps led him to a blacksmith’s forge.
“Orin. Give me a sword.”
It seemed he had finally given up on finding a champion and decided to fight in the duel himself. The blacksmith seemed to have guessed as much.
“Hmph. I hope I don’t get on anyone’s bad side for selling you a sword. Here. Take it.”
The blacksmith pulled out a sword from a wooden barrel in the back. He then roughly shoved it into a mismatched scabbard and tossed it.
It was unannounced, and Hugo, who caught it in a fluster, couldn’t handle the weight and fell on his rear.
“Orin…! How could you!”
“Hmph. I gave you that much out of consideration for our past acquaintance.”
Hugo flushed and looked up at Orin, but Orin just snorted and turned his head away sharply. Hugo’s face grew even redder.
It was at that moment that I approached. I picked up the sword Hugo had dropped when he fell. The blade was slightly peeking out of the scabbard.
The blade was straight, and the center of gravity was well-balanced. When I drew the sword completely and flicked a finger against the blade, a clear, ringing sound echoed. It wasn’t a masterpiece, but it was a rather fine sword.
“A good sword.”
Orin flinched when our eyes met. It was obvious he had anticipated Hugo would come to him after failing to find help and had prepared the sword in advance.
“I’ll buy this sword.”
In that instant, Orin’s gaze swept over my body. His eyes glinted as he noted the battle-worn gambeson and the well-worn hilt of my sword. Then, as if he had never shown a flicker of interest, he spoke bluntly.
“That sword already has an owner.”
“It doesn’t look like he’s paid for it…”
“Hmph, our past acquaintance was the price. The sword belongs to this fool, so if you really want it, you’ll have to negotiate with this fool.”
Hugo wasn’t foolish enough to miss Orin’s tacit support. He scrambled to his feet and spoke.
“If you do me one favor, I will give you the sword!”
I put on a troubled expression and looked down at Hugo. I made sure to grip his sword tightly and glance at it often.
Then, like a simple, naive outsider being taken advantage of by two city folk, I asked naturally.
“What is this favor?”
Hugo’s expression brightened instantly. He was a terrible liar.
*
“That day, I finished work early and came home sooner than usual. I had been neglecting my wife while focusing on my work, so to make up for it, I booked a table at her favorite restaurant and even prepared a fine bottle of wine.”
Hugo said as he poured tea into a teacup. His hand holding the pot trembled, as if he was reliving the memory of that day.
I let my gaze wander past him. It was a fairly large house.
Hugo was the master of a craftsman’s guild, a man of considerable influence. If his opponent hadn’t been the mayor’s son, their positions would have been reversed.
There was no warmth or sign of life in the house. The fireplace in one corner of the room looked like it hadn’t been lit in a long time, with only charred remains left behind.
Hugo was so focused on his memories that he didn’t notice my inattention. He continued.
“But what was waiting for me at home was a horrific scene. My wife was sprawled on the bed in a wretched state, her whole body covered in the clear marks of a violent sexual encounter…!”
His voice began to boil with rage. His trembling grew more intense.
He had returned home dreaming of a happy moment, only to be met with the most wretched one imaginable. The shock must have been immense.
“It could have been an affair, couldn’t it?”
Of course, I didn’t care. My capacity for empathy wasn't great enough to sympathize with another's misfortune.
Hugo glared at me with murderous eyes. It wouldn’t last long. He had to know that I was the only one left who could help him.
As expected, the fire in his eyes gradually faded, replaced by a deep melancholy.
I waited for him to calm down, sipping my tea, before I continued.
“I have to be clear on the facts. If I were to wield my sword on behalf of the guilty party, wouldn’t my honor be dragged through the mud?”
“It’s not a lie! The bruises and bloodstains on my wife’s body were clearly the marks of rape! The priest who came to care for her said the same thing, right up until he learned that the man who did it was Casino!”
Clink. I set down my teacup and put on a grave expression.
“So… you’re saying he’s a man of such power that even a priest of the church would back down? Hah. This changes the calculation a bit…”
“I’ll pay you whatever you want. Please, just make that bastard pay the price.”
“Hmm, do you have proof that he’s the culprit? This is a serious matter. If he’s innocent, not just the mayor but the entire city will be out for my blood.”
Bang.
Hugo slammed his fist on the table. A teacup tipped over, spilling tea across the surface. Fortunately, my cup was already empty.
“There isn’t a woman in this city that bastard hasn’t touched! He was constantly hitting on my wife too! He didn’t care that she showed her displeasure! I warned him, but his advances only got worse!”
“My wife was troubled but she refused him firmly. That must have wounded his pride! My wife was the only woman who hadn’t given in to the man with the mayor for a backer! So he must have forced himself on her!”
Hugo’s body trembled with rage, the very picture of a husband who dearly loved his wife.
Anyone with a shred of sensitivity would have heard his story, sympathized, and offered him comfort.
I, on the other hand, focused on the content.
“And yet… it’s all speculation, isn’t it?”
Nowhere in Hugo’s story was there any testimony from his wife, the victim. Hugo muttered, his face impassive.
“The shock was too great for my wife. Her body was also in a bad state, so I couldn’t possibly ask her to relive that horrible memory. However, just before she left for her parents’ home to recuperate, she told me. That the one who did that to her was him…!”
“Is that so?”
There were still many questionable points. However, they were facts I had no need to know.
Based on the truth on the surface, the opponent was a villain without peer, and Hugo was merely a weak man who couldn’t protect his wife from such a villain.
Even those who refused Hugo’s request believed his words were true. They just didn’t have the will to stand up to a powerful man, so they looked away.
Sometimes, if everyone believes a lie to be the truth, that lie can become the truth.
And what was important was that Hugo, the weak one, was standing up to power, knowing he would likely fail.
The underdog story is a cliché that transcends time.
And first impressions last. A story about a man who resolutely stands up for the weak would help me gain fame all the faster.
In that sense, this case was the perfect stage for my debut.