The Count's Inheritance
Two swords clashed with a thunderous crash. The impact reverberated before the sound even faded, and the blades struck again. KKA-KKA-KAANG!
The two warriors slashed at each other with blinding speed, standing firm in place. No fancy footwork or tricks—just raw, brutal power. The clash of steel rang out, sparks flying in every direction.__
Knute clenched his teeth so hard they felt ready to crack, sweat pouring down his face as he poured every ounce of strength into his swings. But something felt off. Ion’s face stayed calm, almost bored. Knute’s mind began to fray.__
“Krrgh!”__
Ion noticed Knute’s distraction and pressed the advantage. Perhaps that’s why. In truth, he still had plenty of strength left. The power he’d scraped together from years of fighting enemies now surpassed even a regular knight’s.__
This was exactly why he’d accepted Zamel’s proposal. He knew he could win.__
Knute’s movements changed. He tried to block Ion’s sweeping cut with a shallow angle, stepping inside and driving his blade forward—the same method Ion always used. The counter was simple. Slip aside, force the opponent deeper, stomp the heel into the back of his knee, and press the flat of your blade to his throat.__
“Hahk!”__
Knute’s eyes widened at the icy edge of the steel. His body trembled as he sliced sideways in a desperate attempt to escape. The blade opened his neck clean.__
SWISH!__
His head tumbled free and landed with a wet thud on the ground. A surge of strength flooded Ion’s limbs. Fighting a truly strong opponent always filled you with more power.__
―WAAAAA!―__
The villagers hiding behind the stockade let out a triumphant roar.__
At the same time:__
―Attack!―__
Zamel ordered from his saddle.__
Ion turned to the village chief and nodded. They understood each other without a word. Let the soldiers attack; the gate could be barred and held. Delfina had already been gone three days to summon reinforcements. Help would arrive soon enough.__
BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!__
Zamel’s rebel soldiers advanced, spears lowered, one step at a time.__
Ion sprinted forward, accelerating, then slowed just enough. He gripped his longsword lightly, one hand only, and charged like a hedgehog. Spears thrust at him.__
SCRRRR!__
The blade sliced through the wooden shafts as if they were twigs.__
―Huh?―__
―Fall back!―__
―Second line, spear thrust!―__
―Block!―__
The soldiers whose shafts were cut recoiled, drawing short swords. Others thrust forward to fill the gap, only for Ion’s blade to carve them down too.__
―Fall back and draw steel!―__
―From the side, block with spears!―__
―Fill the gaps!―__
The tightly packed soldiers were drilled to plug any hole instantly. A strong blow was useless. While riding in at speed and weight might crush them, Ion’s chosen method was to punch straight through one point. Right now, cutting a shaft and stepping into the gap, then swinging.__
―Don’t retreat!―__
―Kyaaaah!―__
―We can’t stop him!―__
The spearmen who lost their weapons drew short swords and charged, but they couldn’t touch Ion. Even when they blocked, the sheer force made him drop his blade and cut them down. Wrists severed, bodies collapsing, the rebels were forced into a tight circle around him.__
―Pull back!―__
Zamel’s voice cracked as he spurred his horse closer.―Your job is to attack the village!―__
The soldiers obeyed, peeling off to head toward the settlement.__
―Advance!―__
―Shield bearers, forward with shields!―__
―Archers, draw your bows!―__
Veterans like the ten-man leaders guided the troops. Only Ion and Zamel remained.__
―You accepted my offer with such arrogance. Much stronger than I expected.―__
―You failed to keep your promise, as expected.―__
Zamel shrugged lightly, voice casual.__
―Promises can be broken. I’ll offer you another.―__
―Enough talk. Draw your blade. A knight in plate armor loves to chat too much!―__
Even a baron’s son, the highest rank, was trying to settle things with words rather than action.__
Zamel dismounted.__
―Fine! I’ll show you proper swordsmanship from a proper noble house—the kind you wandering knights could never understand!―__
He drew his longsword in a flash and assumed a stance. Left hand only lightly gripping the hilt for lightness.__
Traditional noble houses had excellent sword forms passed down for generations. Zamel’s was clean and precise, yet he made one mistake. Even the best technique means nothing if the practitioner’s training is lacking.__
Zamel kicked off the ground, slashing downward. Ion raised his blade. The trajectory of the descending cut changed—Zamel aimed for the body—yet Ion mirrored the motion.__
CLANG!__
Zamel’s force, speed, and movement were all inferior. Ion’s was superior.__
―Become my knight! I’ll give you great power!―__
Ion kept swinging without answering. Zamel was pushed back relentlessly.__
―The estate! The title!―__
Zamel, a mere second son of a baron with no title, imagined he already owned the power of the Polskas.__
Even without Ion, such a fool could never succeed in rebellion.__
Zamel finally dropped his blade, clutching his aching palm and laughing.__
―What now? You dare kill me when I’m unarmed? A true knight would never…!―__
His words cut off. Ion’s blade had already flashed.__
SWISH!__
The steel pierced Zamel’s chest. The breastplate ripped open and blood sprayed.__
―Kyahhh!―__
Zamel clutched his chest. His face drained of color, yet the wound was shallow. The armor had mostly deflected it, only nicking the gambeson and skin. An inexperienced knight, he thought he was dead.__
―If you spare me! My father will pay my ransom! I’m the count’s son…!―__
―You started a rebellion and now babble nonsense!―__
Ion drove his sword into Zamel’s chest.__
―K-kurrk!―__
Zamel collapsed, breath gone. The soldiers who had been attacking the stockade lowered their weapons and surrendered.__
* * *__
As evening fell, Delfina arrived in the village with Polskan soldiers. Ten soldiers, one knight. She had argued fiercely for the reinforcements, but the count had sent only a token force. Now she saw one hundred soldiers and both Knute and Zamel dead. The knight sent a messenger to the estate for more troops.__
While the newcomers investigated secret passages and the herb fields, Ion and Delfina stayed in the village.__
Five days later, several knights and nobles visited.__
―I am Daniel von Polsk. Zamel’s brother.―__
The man who greeted Ion and the chief alone looked like Zamel but was ten years older and smaller.__
―I had talent for politics and estate management. Zamel was suited to be a knight. I hoped he would become my father’s successor and my younger brother a knight of the land.―__
―…―__
―But the brother consumed by greed never learned proper knightly skills. He spent time hobnobbing with commoners and building power. He became a nobody and started a rebellion he couldn’t win, dying for his sins.―__
Though Zamel had gathered quite a few soldiers.__
―We gathered a hundred. He might have succeeded.―__
―Exactly. Without you, we would have suffered greatly. But the rebellion would have failed anyway. The reason… you would know if you had spoken with my brother.―__
―Hmm…―__
Ion had no desire to explain himself.__
―Boastfulness without skill produces useless men.―__
―Then what’s the point? It doesn’t sound like revenge.―__
―Revenge? I’m actually offering thanks. I came to give my father’s reward and express gratitude. I also wanted to see the face of the man who killed my brother.―__
―I understand.―__
Daniel straightened and conveyed the count’s gratitude.__
―On behalf of Elder Lord Elmar von Polsk of Polsk Estate, I offer thanks. Please accept this small token as goodwill.―__
―Thank you.―__
Ion accepted the pouch of coins.__
―One more thing. If you have no place to stay, the count invites you to the main estate. But… I hope you refuse.―__
―Why?―__
―The count wishes to recruit talent, but I cannot bear to see the face of the man who killed my brother every day.―__
―No need to worry. I have no intention of staying anywhere.―__
―Thank you.―__
Daniel bowed and left. Ion felt grateful yet uneasy, since he had killed Zamel. The pouch in his pocket held ten gold coins. Daniel later met Delfina and the chief, then returned.__
The village was now officially part of Polsk Estate. The estate was closer, and there might be hidden ruins or ancient buildings in the herb fields. Further investigation was needed. An agreement had already been reached with Bedel Estate.__
The chief and villagers were delighted to be safe with soldiers stationed. Delfina smiled brightly, clearly pleased with the money she had received.__
―I’m heading back to my home village for a visit. Where will you go, Sir Knight?―__
―North.―__
―North? Why?―__
―I want to see the Ice Wall.―__
―The Ice Wall?―__
The northern lands ended at the Ice Wall. Beyond it the ground continued, but the psychological edge of the continent was the Wall. Ion wanted to see it firsthand.__
―I don’t understand, but keep pushing forward.―__
―You too, be careful on your way home.―__
―We knights must be careful too!―__
Delfina left first. The next day, as Ion prepared to depart, he met the chief, Goetz.__
―Thank you, Lord Ion.―__
The chief handed over a pouch containing one gold coin.__
―I was distracted for days, so I only just realized. This is the reward for the cloud-bridge request. Delfina said she did nothing, so she refused it.―__
That was why Delfina had rushed off so suddenly.__
―Hmm… Thank you.―__
Ion tucked the pouch away.__
―Days of chaos have passed, yet the village is safe. I’m satisfied.―__
―As long as the people are happy.―__
―Yes. Thanks to you, Lord Ion.―__
Ion bid farewell and left the village.__
* * *__
WHOOSH-WHOOSH-WHOOSH!__
A massive boar thundered down the mountain path, and Lotte barked from behind, chasing after it.__
KUNG-KUNG-KUNG!__
Lotte was bigger now. He wasn’t attacking the boar—he was herding it with loud barks. The boar tried to turn and fight a few times, but each time Lotte darted out and dodged the clash.__
The boar huffed and charged down the steeper trail with renewed fury.__
KUNG-KUNG-KUNG!__
Lotte barked like a signal, then sat leaning against a tree trunk. Ion stood and drew his sword.__
―You’re a little late, aren’t you?―__
He blocked the charging boar’s path. The animal, already irritated, planted its hooves and charged harder. Ion waited until the last moment, then thrust his blade straight into its forehead.__
KRUAK!__
The blade sank into the boar’s brow. Its legs gave out and it slammed face-first into the ground and rolled.__
WHOOSH-WHOOSH-BOOM!__
Momentum carried it far, tumbling across the ground before it stopped.__
KUNG-KUNG-KUNG!__
Lotte trotted up, tail wagging.__
They had left the cloud-bridge village and come to Yakubi Estate. The mayor had hired them to exterminate a boar that was trampling the fields. Ten of them had been requested; the one they had killed was the tenth.__
Ion stuck a stick into the dead boar’s side, took a scrap of paper from his pouch, and marked its location on the map.__
He called Lotte over. He smelled the boar’s carcass.__
―Let’s go!―__
Lotte looked regretfully at the boar, then followed Ion as he walked away. At first Ion had tracked and killed the animals himself, but when Lotte seemed bored, he ordered him to herd them instead. It worked better than expected. Once Ion revealed the location, villagers would bring wagons to haul the carcasses away. Ion would sell the meat cheaply, and the villagers would handle the hides and transport.__
They reached the village. Ion handed the map to the chief, who ordered the people to come fetch the boar. The chief returned with meat and beer, praising his hard work. The hind leg bones were given to Lotte.__
―Thanks to you, Lord Ion, I can finally breathe. We won’t worry for another year or two.―__
―I ate plenty of boar meat for a whole month. Good stuff.―__
―Haha, I’m glad to hear it. Where will you go next?―__
―I’m returning to Yakubi Estate to finish the request, then heading north.―__
The chief, sipping beer beside him, asked:__
―Have you heard any rumors about witches?―__
―Witch rumors are always around, but none of them have been real.―__
Ion was right—plenty of witch rumors existed, but no actual witches had ever been seen. A plain widow, a seductive tavern girl, a hardworking waitress… anyone could be called a witch if someone pointed a finger. Accused witches were examined by priests at the cathedral. In ancient times they were simply burned without trial. The church had pushed for formal verification to prevent hasty deaths. Now, at least, they only burned after confirmation.__
―I heard there’s a real witch in the Yakubi Swamp.―__
―I see.―__
Probably just another baseless rumor. But… what if?