Chapter 18
Chapter 18 - Has He Gone Senile?
After finishing dinner, I turned my gaze once more toward the small floating window hanging in the air.
(If the sworn target dies or the oath target is changed, the increased stats will be revoked.)
But instead of clarity, it only made me feel more conflicted.
What the hell am I supposed to choose?
The second option was obviously the safest pick, yet that “all stats increased by 50%” kept lingering in my mind.
There was no need to even consider the first one.
The second was reliable and carried no burden.
The third offered absurdly overpowered rewards, but the penalty was way too heavy.
More than anything, the idea of tying my entire life to a single person felt deeply uncomfortable.
And what was with that ominous line about the sworn target dying?
Why did the status window have to phrase it like that?
Damn it, do they think Ethan’s an easy target? You wanna die!?
……Wait.
Calm down for a second.
It was not like the status window specifically used Ethan as an example.
And it was not even guaranteed that Ethan would become my future lord.
Still, imagining the young lord dying left an awful taste in my mouth.
At the moment, Ethan was the only realistic candidate for a knight’s oath anyway.
There was no doubt he was the greatest benefactor of both my current and previous lives.
That was exactly why the option felt so unpleasant.
Anyway, even if I did swear a knight’s oath to Ethan, would that oath truly last forever?
That was an entirely different issue.
Aside from the heavens themselves, nobody could possibly know the answer.
In this chaotic era, I did not even know how far my abilities would take me. Everything was uncertain, and blind confidence would only be dangerous.
Sure, maybe I would become some legendary swordmaster straight out of a fantasy novel.
But there was also a very real chance I would end up struggling as a lowly mercenary in some backwater territory.
If I compared my current situation to my previous life, it was like a traffic accident waiting to happen.
No matter how careful I was, the best I could do was minimize the risks.
If someone deliberately tried to cause an accident, or if luck simply turned against me, disaster could strike regardless of my will.
And there was one thing I learned in my previous life.
There was no such thing as “absolute” in life.
A perfect example would be my old dream of becoming an “absolute champion.”
Or those people who dedicated their entire lives to one company only to get laid off in the end.
So in another world far more dangerous than modern society, it was even more obvious how reckless blind certainty could be.
The third option was no different.
Sure, a 50% stat increase would let me do incredible things.
But it still was not omnipotent.
If I were truly an ignorant child, I probably would have picked the third option without hesitation.
But I was not.
“Tsk, how does so much food even fit into that tiny stomach?”
Right as I was agonizing over the choices, someone beside me clicked their tongue in annoyance.
The owner of that voice was obvious.
The grizzled old knight himself.
To begin with, Sir Lecoon was the only person in this territory who constantly nagged me.
“Hans must be suffering quite a headache.”
Hans was the one and only exclusive cook of the Bellark family.
Besides, I was at the age where I was supposed to eat a lot while growing, so what exactly was the problem?
I mainly ate soup and rye bread out of consideration for the territory’s situation.
To begin with, the meals served in the castle were barely any different from what commoners ate.
That was because the lord himself lived so frugally it was hard to believe he was nobility.
Still, I could not just complain however I wanted.
Sir Lecoon was a genuine noble, unlike easygoing people like Ethan.
The moment someone crossed the line, he would immediately start yelling.
Honestly, the reason I always used honorifics toward Ethan in front of others was largely because of this old man’s influence.
At the end of the day, I was still just a dependent being fed and sheltered here.
It was too early to repay their kindness.
“Haha…”
So I should be grateful to everyone who provided food, clothing, and shelter to an orphan like me.
Keep smiling.
“…I’m just growing, that’s all.”
“Growing? You eat more than twice what the apprentices do. Then are those brats not growing too?”
“……”
Seriously, old man, you never let a single comment slide.
Even if you dislike me, do you really have to nitpick every little thing?
I ended up glancing awkwardly toward the dining table.
…Wait, did I really eat that much?
“…I’ll eat less from now on.”
“Hmph. I never told you to eat less.”
Then what exactly do you want from me?
I felt like if I actually ate less, he would complain about that too.
Was he secretly a tsundere or something?
If so, please stop immediately.
At your age, it is not cute anymore.
“…Well, eat plenty while you can. We have more rye than we know what to do with anyway. I’m merely talking nonsense.”
Huh? What was that all of a sudden?
This unfamiliar kindness felt strange.
Was this some kind of push-and-pull strategy to tame me?
“Enjoy what you can while you still have the chance.”
Ahh.
So he meant I should eat plenty while the territory could still afford it.
“Just a few decades ago…”
There it was again.
The old man’s favorite pastime: reminiscing about Bellark’s glory days.
“Who could have imagined that Bellark would one day be eating hard rye bread?”
Meaningless complaint number 453254.
There was no reason to listen seriously.
And yet I had no choice.
If a noble was speaking and I walked away, I would probably get flicked on the forehead.
So there was no escape from listening to the old man aggressively chew through his rye bread.
“The people of this territory say their greatest regret is not eating more butter and wheat while they had the chance. So you should eat plenty of this rye bread at least.”
Was it his wording? Or maybe just the way he talked?
Even his good intentions sounded like mocking.
Like:
“You’ve never had buttered bread before, right? One day even this rye bread will feel precious, so eat as much as you want~”
That kind of vibe.
“…Yes.”
Whether that was true or not hardly mattered.
I was in no position to argue, and opening my mouth would only earn me more trouble.
So my only job was to help reduce the territory’s overflowing rye supply.
Nom nom…
“Hoh? You’re seriously eating more?”
“…You said there was too much rye.”
“……Right. Eat as much as you want.”
Why was he looking at me with such exhausted eyes?
This was not overeating. I was just growing… yeah, that was it.
Still, Sir Lecoon’s words were not something I should dismiss entirely as nagging.
His example only reinforced my belief that nothing in life was absolute.
Bellark had supposedly once been a land overflowing with milk and honey, yet even such a prosperous nation had collapsed into this state overnight.
Even Ethan’s father and Sir Lecoon probably never imagined it would happen.
Which meant that someday, even this hard rye bread might become something we longed for.
“……”
Still, it felt strange.
If Sir Lecoon missed the glorious past that much, could he not simply serve another lord?
Even at his age, someone of his skill would be welcomed anywhere.
With his experience and years of service, he probably had enough money saved to retire comfortably too.
Hmm. Maybe loyalty that truly came from the heart was simply different.
The fact that I could not understand it probably meant I still had not fully shed my modern mindset.
And then another thought struck me.
The knight’s oath I would make as a modern person.
And the knight’s oath Sir Lecoon made long ago.
The weight behind them would probably be completely different.
Maybe I simply was not suited to being a knight.
From a combat perspective, maybe I could do it.
But mentally, I was definitely not someone who embodied perfect knightly virtue.
After finishing my second dinner, I turned my eyes back toward the selection window.
Without hesitation, I chose the second option.
All weapon proficiency +20%.
The third option was not meant for someone like me with modern sensibilities.
It was meant for true knights like Sir Lecoon.
An option reserved for the most loyal retainers imaginable.
That enormous stat boost was simply the reward given alongside unwavering devotion.
Saying I felt no regret would be a lie.
But the idea of binding my entire life to a single family was difficult for a modern person to accept.
Besides, rather than becoming personally stronger, it might actually be better to serve different nobles and receive better equipment and support.
Maybe I would serve a baron at first, then later serve a count.
Maybe I would eventually fight alongside companions far more talented than myself.
If my goal was to repay Ethan’s kindness, then this choice was probably more efficient anyway.
“……”
Once I finished making my choice, curiosity suddenly welled up inside me.
How exactly had Sir Lecoon ended up swearing a knight’s oath to Bellark?
And how was someone that talented practically serving for free?
Was Ethan’s father really such an unbelievably great ruler?
Considering his age, Sir Lecoon must have served Bellark for over seventy years at minimum.
“Sir Lecoon.”
“…Not that again.”
Before I could even finish speaking, Sir Lecoon waved his hand dismissively.
“I’ve told you countless times already. I have no intention of taking you as my squire.”
Well, the misunderstanding was understandable.
I had spent years pestering him to accept me as a disciple.
Even if someone only begged once a week, doing it continuously for two or three years would wear anybody down.
Considering his personality, the fact that he tolerated me this much was impressive enough.
“Umm… that’s not it. I was just wondering how you became a knight of Bellark in the first place…”
Without realizing it, I cautiously watched his reaction.
It had become a habit after constantly dealing with his prickly temper.
“…This is the first time I’ve learned something.”
“Huh?”
What was he suddenly talking about?
“This is the first time I’ve realized you’re capable of asking questions other than begging me to take you as a disciple.”
“…Ah.”
That definitely sounded loaded with meaning.
Still, at least he was not yelling.
“You finally sound like a child.”
For some reason, Sir Lecoon even looked slightly pleased.
“There’s no grand reason. It’s the same as you.”
“The same as me?”
“Exactly what I said. The previous lord saved my life at the boundary between life and death. Mine and my wife Selene’s.”
“Wh—What!?”
“Why are you reacting like that?”
Why was I reacting like that?
Because this was the first time I had ever heard any of this in eight years.
And because I was shocked that a stubborn old fossil like him even had a wife.
I thought he was the type who spent his entire life obsessed only with the sword!
“Anyway, I was about your age at the time. When an ogre attacked us, a knight with black hair and red eyes—”
“W-Wait a second.”
Forget joking around.
Had this old man genuinely gone senile?
There was over an eighty-year age gap between Sir Lecoon and me.
Which meant if he was talking about when he was my age, it had to be at least eighty years ago.
And he said Ethan’s father saved him back then?
The age difference between Ethan and his father could not possibly exceed forty years.
That man would not even have been born yet!
Maybe if it were Ethan’s grandfather, it would make sense.
His memory had definitely become muddled.
Maybe the whole wife story was just a delusion too—!
“…What is it?”
“Um… I was just wondering if maybe your memory has been getting worse lately, or if your sense of time and weather has gotten dull… I’m just worried about your health…”
“Hah!”
Sir Lecoon lightly smacked the table, his face practically screaming:
I’ll stay sharp until the day I die, so stop saying ridiculous nonsense.
“You brat. Are you seriously thinking I’ve gone senile?”
How did he know!?
…Was I really that obvious?