Preparing to Part Ways
In the end, these bastards were just sick with jealousy over the mountain of coin I’d made.
A commoner who had clawed his way into the Imperial Guard Knights purely on the strength of his sword arm had struck it rich. Worse still, after raking in that unfathomable fortune, I hadn't stepped forward to offer the order a generous slice. To their noble sensibilities, every single bit of it was an intolerable grievance.
Celine, a female knight who was once a close comrade of mine, had merely acted as the mouthpiece for their shared resentment.
And the moment I brushed off that resentment as dogshit, retaliation became a foregone conclusion.
No one had explicitly cornered me to say, "Hand over the Kodana or face the consequences," but there wasn't a prayer in hell that the order would just laugh it off and let things slide.
Lunatics, the lot of them. Look who's laughing now.
Back when I first gave up my spot in the Hero's party, my peers had snickered behind my back. The moment I saddled myself with the Kodana coins minted by the Hero, that mockery had turned completely shameless. They treated me like the ultimate dupe, a sucker fleeced by the otherworldly savior.
"Hey Eric, heard you took Kodana as your consolation prize?"
"Give it a few months, melt them down into raw bullion, and maybe you'll salvage your original stake. Want me to introduce you to a smelter? Better turn them into gold bars if you want to get fair value for them, you poor bastard."
"Tough break, but you should've carried yourself better. Why else would he dump worthless trash like commemorative coins on the guy who walked away from the Hero's party?"
That was how they had talked.
Of course, I hadn't stepped down on my own accord; I had simply complied with Kwon Hee-jin's desire to install a bevy of glamorous female knights in his entourage instead. Still, having no real desire to bicker or defend myself, I had just played along with their cheap jabs and nodded. On the inside, I thought they could all go fuck themselves.
Yet now, merely a few months later, they had completely flipped the script, branding me an irredeemable egoist.
Did those idiots already forget every single word that came out of their mouths just months ago?
Still, this wasn't the time to sit around griping. If anything, I needed to take decisive measures to lock down my Kodana coins.
Stashing them in a private safe or knocking out the brickwork in my quarters to hide them was completely pointless. There was no guarantee someone wouldn't send me on some bogus deployment and ransack my room while I was away. Believing that someone wouldn't stoop to burglary just because they were an ordained knight was the height of naive stupidity.
The solution I settled on was simple: take the Kodana to the Kodana Exchange, register their unique serial numbers, and place them into formal custody.
Originally, the exchange had operated strictly as a brokerage to facilitate transactions. Left to private dealings, it was nearly impossible to establish an authoritative, transparent market price. However, as the rash of coin thefts began escalating across the capital, they expanded their operations into custodial deposit services.
Naturally, they didn't hold them out of the goodness of their hearts. They extracted a hefty commission.
"One hundred and eight Kodana coins. Unique serial numbers verified. The registered owner is Sir Eric of the Imperial Guard Knights. Is that correct?"
"Yes. The Imperial Guard Knights... for now."
The fee was extortionate, frankly speaking, and it stung to part with it. But it was far better than sitting around with no safety net and waking up robbed blind.
"Thank you for your patronage, honored client!"
Given the sheer volume of the deposit, the clerk beamed with an uncontainable flush of excitement. Even the nobles who had come to ink purchase contracts threw sidelong glances in my direction. One of them muttered sarcastically that the deposit fee alone was probably enough to buy a modest townhouse.
By registering the coins with the exchange, I had effectively made my peace with the fact that everyone would soon know Sir Eric of the Imperial Guard possessed one hundred and eight Kodana.
In fact, the nuisance began the very moment I stepped out the front doors.
"We are from the Radovid Relief Shelter! Please, open your hearts and show compassion to the disabled and the homeless who cannot even afford a meal...!"
"Sir Knight! You know a single Kodana covers an entire year of our orphanage's operating costs, don't you? Please, show mercy so that children living worse than livestock can grow up healthy! Compassion is the only thing that separates man from beast!"
"...That must be Eric over there. A hundred and eight? Hell, no wonder he gave up his spot in the Hero's party."
Creeping out of every nook and cranny, swarms of strangers slithered toward me with hands outstretched, aggressively demanding donations. One petitioner even thrust a child with grime-streaked cheeks under their arm, practically extorting alms.
The guards posted outside the exchange put on a half-hearted show of holding back the crowd before giving up entirely—a clear sign this circus played out daily.
Shaking off these moral extortionists was no easy task.
Had I been a high-ranking lord with a retinue of armored retainers, clearing a path would have been child's play; the mob wouldn't have dared approach in the first place. But I was entirely alone, armed with nothing more than the sword at my hip.
I couldn't exactly unleash aura blades on begging vagrants just because they were being pests. The leeches clutching at my sleeves knew this full well, which was why they mobbed me without the slightest hesitation. To them, they had nothing to lose and everything to gain.
"Excuse me, you're Sir Eric, right? A commoner-born knight, if I recall?"
A middle-aged man who had managed to snag my sleeve grinned slyly as he spoke.
"I'm still a commoner."
"Ah, right, right. Then you of all people must know how hard life is for folks like us. While the highborn lords and filthy rich merchants are living large off Kodana, folks like us are running ourselves ragged just trying to feed our starving brats."
"I'm sure it's tough. But if you've got mouths to feed, wouldn't looking for a job put food on the table faster than panhandling in front of an exchange?"
"...Ha. How can a fellow commoner say something so cold-blooded? Shouldn't you feel some pity for people exploited their entire lives just for the crime of being born low?"
"I've never exploited a single commoner. If anything, just last week I risked my life holding off a monster wave at a minor barony two days out from the capital. Stop clinging to an innocent man and back off."
"...My, aren't you a sweet talker, Sir Knight."
Grimacing in sour disappointment, the middle-aged man finally released his grip on my collar.
My reaction might have seemed harsh, but show leniency once, and there would be no end to it. Above all, I barely had any actual cash on hand right now. No matter how astronomically high the market price of Kodana soared, until it was liquidated, it was nothing more than an abstract number.
So yes, I could fend off the leeches easily enough.
The real headache starts tomorrow.
Depositing my Kodana at this exact juncture was tantamount to a public declaration that I suspected my fellow knights of theft and extortion. It was an open provocation to an already agitated order. Dollars to donuts, petty harassment would start raining down on me first thing in the morning.
The one silver lining was that there was no risk of disappointment. I had long since discarded even the barest shred of expectation toward my so-called comrades.
The following morning, I reported to the garrison barracks at my usual hour.
Yet carrying out my routine duties proved impossible. As expected, the sabotage began immediately.
First, the squires started giving me the cold shoulder.
Squires—unordained youths whose primary duties were training under senior supervision and running menial errands for fully fledged knights.
"Why hasn't this armor been maintained?"
The chainmail I had handed over for cleaning days ago still bore flecks of rust and dried mud. When I questioned them, the apprentices exchanged furtive glances and turned their backs on me.
After glaring at them for a silent beat, I walked over to the cleaning barrel, turned the hand crank myself, and polished my own mail.
The childish bullying didn't stop there.
They blatantly ignored my salutes, refused to spar with me during drills, and even scratched my name off the guest list for a high-society banquet hosted at the Grand Duke's estate. A rare chance to feast on fine food, gone up in smoke.
And the final straw came right before mounted drills: my entire set of horse tack vanished into thin air.
Ha. Even during my hazing when I first joined the order, they weren't this petty.
I could shrug off the rest of their childish antics, but stealing combat gear—saddle, bridle, and all—crossed the line from harassment into inexcusable malice.
The Empire might not have been at war, but localized crises triggered by monster surges were an everyday reality. The Imperial Guard Knights were an elite fighting force responsible for securing roughly forty percent of the Empire's vast territories.
What if an emergency sortie were ordered while my tack was missing?
Sure, I'd find a way to improvise. But in the minutes wasted scrambling for gear, innocent civilians could be torn to shreds.
This is grounds for a disciplinary tribunal.
Squires neglecting their chores was common enough; the knight order had always been a cesspool of institutional hazing. Whenever senior knights wanted to break an upstart's spirit, they would casually order the apprentices to ostracize him and ignore his commands.
Sabotaging military harnesses, however, was a blatant breach of martial discipline that warranted formal court-martial.
Even so, I chose not to report it up the chain of command to the Commander or Vice-Commander. Without their tacit blessing, the rank-and-file knights would never have dared pull a stunt this reckless. Varying degrees aside, they were all in on it together.
Appealing to external authorities wasn't an option either.
The Imperial Guard Knights stood on too high a pedestal.
Only the Imperial Crown held the authority to issue direct commands to the Guard. Even high nobility could only exert indirect pressure; they were in no position to dictate internal affairs. And running to the palace to tattle about a missing saddle was out of the question.
They know that, which is why they're squeezing me without hesitation.
Back in my quarters, I sat in deep contemplation for a long time.
The word resignation flashed through my mind, but walking away right now was a terrible move.
Strip away my title, and I would be nothing more than a commoner with good sword skills. There was no telling what desperate, coin-crazed knights would do once that legal protection vanished. Worse, the swarms of opportunistic vultures previously kept at bay by the formidable shield of the Imperial Guard would pounce on me without restraint.
If I were to resign, it had to happen only after I had successfully liquidated the coins. My mind raced, frantically calculating angles and searching for an exit strategy.
"Damn it. What's the play here?"
Right as I was stewing in frustration, an unannounced visitor knocked at my door. Hand resting warily on the hilt of my sword, I pulled the door open—ready for trouble—only to find it wasn't a bandit after my neck.
Thick, golden-blonde hair and tall for a woman. A gown tailored to accentuate a narrow waist and an ample bust, paired with a radiant, disarming smile.
If a woman dressed like that was seen coming and going from a solitary knight's quarters, she'd easily be branded a high-class courtesan. But she was no whore; she was my fiancée.
"Amber."
Why on earth did she have to show up today of all days? I stared at her quietly for a second before letting her inside. I sincerely hoped she wouldn't act like a mercenary courtesan with her hand out, but my expectations were already six feet under.