The One Without Manners
The boy's words left me thrown for a loop.
This kid… he looked young, so why was he talking like that?
"Hm… is there anything that troubles you, benefactor? Speak freely, without reservation."
"Huh? No, no, I'm fine."
Yep. That was definitely the archaic formal register.
So it existed in this world too.
Come to think of it… when I'd heard Delner the knight through intention, he'd told me, Flee! in that same style, hadn't he?
That register… back in my original world's era, it was widely known as old-timer speech. But originally, the point of that way of talking was to elevate the other person without lowering yourself — used either between equals as a form of mutual consideration, or by someone of vastly higher status when addressing a subordinate.
For example… when Delner the knight had conveyed his thanks to me, it had come through in a more casual-sounding register, but translating that speech properly now, it had clearly been honorifics. In that situation, from Delner's perspective, I was the benefactor who had saved his life — a special case — so he hadn't used the archaic formal style with me.
Which meant… if someone used that register toward a person who had saved their life, and when that person was clearly older, the people around them would brand them as an absolute brat. So what the hell was this kid?
Don't tell me — was I the first person in this world to encounter a complete lunatic?!
Which would make the boy in front of me a twisted juvenile delinquent?!
Better keep talking and find out.
"Hmm… you were pretty badly hurt when I first found you. How's your body feeling?"
"Thanks to your care, benefactor, my body is without issue."
Hearing that archaic formal speech from a brat younger than me had the Confucian dragon inside me thrashing around, but…
Fine! Change your mindset! Maybe the archaic formal register meant something different in this world!
"I see… Well, it's cold out. Let's head inside."
"Very well, benefactor."
Clamping down on the creaking resentment in my chest, I headed home with Hati — who hadn't a clue what was going on — and the boy without a shred of manners.
Manners aside, though… how had he ended up wounded all the way out at that cave? I needed to ask.
The boy and I sat at the table and chairs by the fireplace and talked.
"Just warm yourself up for now… You can sit across from me. Ah! And if you get thirsty or hungry, say so! I've got plenty of food and water."
"Th-then I shall take you up on that. In truth… the thirst and hunger have grown quite severe."
For the manners-deficient boy speaking in the archaic formal style, I set out the ground-meat stew I'd made while nursing him, along with tea steeped from herbs I'd gathered in the mountains before winter set in.
He must have been starving and parched, because he tore into it without so much as a thank-you.
How to put it… once someone had already made a bad impression, even watching them eat without saying thanks got on my nerves.
Afterward the boy set down the wooden dishes, looking full, and wore a happy little smile — a smile that, to my eyes, was nothing but irritating.
"My thanks, benefactor! Thanks to you, I have filled my belly most heartily!"
"Glad you ate well. Come to think of it, we never introduced ourselves. Can you tell me your name?"
"Ahem! Ahem! Would you… perhaps tell me your name first?"
A vein twitched on my forehead for a second, but I held it in again.
"My name's Haren. I'm a traveler staying here for a bit."
"Aha! A traveler, were you? Judging by the things in the house, I took you for a hunter."
"Looking around the place, I can see how you'd think that. So what name do you go by?"
"This one's name is Eric Medison!! One who aspires to become the strongest knight!"
A kid aiming to be a knight, talking this rudely?
And the strongest knight? Not a fallen one?
"Oh! You've got a family name — so you're a noble, then?"
"Indeed!"
"You're still young, so I'm guessing the heir of a noble house. What are you doing all the way out here?"
"I shall explain in due course."
And so the story of the manners-deficient boy — no, of Eric Medison — began.
"This one hails from House Medison."
"Hm? What's the title?"
"A count's house."
"A count's house? That's a pretty high rank."
"Indeed… Ah! I should say this as well. You need not speak formally with me. You are the benefactor who saved my life, after all."
So if I hadn't been his life's benefactor, he was planning to make me use honorifics?!
"This one left House Medison and set out upon a knight's journey."
"Huh? You look young for a knight's journey. How old are you, anyway?"
"This one is sixteen years of age."
I'm thirty-two and this is what I have to deal with?!
No — when in Rome, follow Roman law… call him sixteen.
But… back when I'd been drinking and shooting the breeze with Alberic, he'd said a knight's journey was something you undertook after turning twenty, swearing the Pact of Life at a church and then setting out. So what was this kid's deal?
Were noble houses these days as obsessed with early education as Korea, packing kids off on premature knight's journeys?
"That's odd… From what I know, a knight's journey is something you do around twenty, after receiving the Tushim-beop at a church, isn't it?"
"Correct… This one has not mastered the Tushim-beop. If one must put a name to it, I came out for the sake of training."
That wasn't a knight's journey — that was a death-wish journey, wasn't it?
Monsters, demons, bandits and highwaymen out there, and he'd set out with nothing but a sword, armor, and his own hide…
Maybe… like Alberic, he'd bolted because of trouble at home?
"Your family…?"
"Truly… truly fine people. The great fortune of my life…"
Manners — no, Eric — thought back on the past, and his expression looked genuinely happy.
"The head of the house… my father always smiled upon this one. My mother, too, cherished both Father and myself… Those were truly happy days."
"Then… no brothers or sisters?"
"Father and Mother got on so well that, including this one, we were four siblings."
So they'd lived without a hitch… Ah! Don't tell me it was that?
A count's house that granted his every wish and spoiled him rotten, until he ended up without any manners?
I was once again reminded how important character education and home training were.
I looked at the boy's face.
About a head shorter than me, brown hair, green eyes, a voice still rough from a recent change, a solid build.
The kind of handsome kid who, in a modern school, would have ranked number one for most confessions from girls.
What was I saying?
Delinq— no. That was just me. He was a good-looking kid, sure enough.
Delinquent Eric pressed on with his story.
"I shall say it again. This one lived in the Medison count's house, then left it behind to chase a dream."
"The dream of becoming the strongest knight, right?"
"Indeed… So long as I remained in a count's house, that dream could not be fulfilled…"
"Couldn't be fulfilled?"
What? Good home life, good looks — if he'd just stayed put, they would have pointed him at knighthood and been done with it.
"This one was the eldest son of a count's house… And I became engaged to a friend I had always been close with."
"Eldest son and engaged?!"
"That friend and I had always been together since we were small. She would always come to see this one bearing sweets and gifts."
"Don't tell me… a ch-childhood friend?"
"Indeed! A beautiful young lady with red hair and green eyes. But the moment I went through with the engagement ceremony to my childhood friend, I would be bound to House Medison for good. And so I buckled on my arms and fled!"
"……"
"To abandon one's dream over something so small is unthinkable! Others would understand as well!"
"I… see…"
I'd figured out exactly what this guy was.
A kid who'd cast aside the family that treated him well and loved him, and the childhood friend who'd loved him without ever saying it, and bolted…
Fire-attribute filial son, or bad boy.
In other words:
A total bastard.
…………
Even while I was listening to the total bastard's story and my brain was shorting out, the tale went on.
"This one heard that an entire company of the patrol force had been wiped out in these parts, and so came this way."
"Uh… you deliberately went somewhere dangerous?"
"Of course!"
The total bastard explained how he'd ended up here.
So basically… the whole stretch of land I'd been traveling through from the start until now belonged to a noble called Count Akelbin.
Then a demon had gone ta-da! and appeared, and slaughtered an entire company of the patrol force that had been mustered in his territory.
In response, Count Akelbin reported the fact to his supreme superior, Duke Delvenis, and requested aid.
With the empire's formidable military force — the patrol — gone, Duke Delvenis simply ordered his vassals to handle their own defense.
The reason being…
Haha;; our lands are way too big, we don't have the bandwidth.
That was it.
Not much choice there.
When they say jump, you jump…
And before long, the vassals, while handling their own defense, decided that committing their own knights was a losing proposition.
Why? Because the knights who led the patrol force were people who took first and second place in the official tournaments hosted by the empire.
In other words, knights so absurdly strong they could carve up a demon on their own — so even traveling solo wasn't really a problem.
But ordinary knights were fine against monsters; the moment they got into a one-on-one with a demon, their odds of dying shot up so high that the nobles' knights would get chewed through as consumables.
So they were recruiting free knight orders, wandering knights, and mercenaries.
And this total bastard had meant to join as a mercenary.
Hmm… looking at it that way, the knights leading the patrol force really were that strong.
And Delner, who'd single-handedly done the work of three patrol knights, must have been one hell of a knight too, right?
Delner kept getting re-evaluated upward.
"On the way, I was attacked by shaggy-furred monsters."
"Those yeti things, you mean."
"Indeed. And so…"
The total bastard stopped talking and stood up from his seat.
What now?
"Once again, my thanks. Thanks to you, my dream has not gone out, and I have been able to take one more step forward."
The total bas— no, Eric bowed to me at a full ninety degrees and thanked me again.
"Truly… truly, I am grateful… I know not how I shall ever repay this debt."
Eric kept bowing in succession.
"It's fine. You're alive — that's what matters."
This Eric kid… if you set aside the self-centeredness and the archaic formal speech, was he maybe not that bad?
Receiving such a proper expression of gratitude softened my heart a little, and I talked with him further.
"For now, this one intended to work as a mercenary until the age of twenty to build skill, then go to a church and have the Tushim-beop formally recognized."
"So you're wandering around getting stronger so you can obtain the Tushim-beop."
"Indeed, benefactor."
The way to obtain the Tushim-beop was simple.
From about age twenty, freemen and above could apply; you fought a holy knight at a church and earned recognition. After that your name went up in the Hall of Knights, you swore the Pact of Life, and you received the Tushim-beop… that was the process.
So this kid had meant to hone his skill through real combat so a holy knight would acknowledge him.
After that I heard all sorts of things from Eric, and among them I learned why he'd been found in that cave.
"Haa… this one's baggage is a great pity."
"Come to think of it, we didn't find any weapons in the cave either. You dropped them along with your gear?"
"Indeed. Yet… i? Was that what you called them?"
"Yeah. Fits them perfectly."
"A fitting name. As for how it happened…"
On the road toward the city, Eric had run into yetis, abandoned his horse and baggage, and escaped. At the time the baggage had held money, food, and various other things, but with every second counting he hadn't had a choice. Later he'd been attacked in the forest as well; he'd managed to fend the yetis off, but his sword had caught on a yeti's bone, and with the sound of more of them rushing in from nearby, he'd discarded his weapon and fled.
"A shameful affair… that one who aspires to be the strongest knight should look back and run."
"But you're alive like this, aren't you? There's a saying — one step back for two steps forward. Don't take it too hard."
"My thanks, benefactor!"
The comfort seemed to land well; Eric looked cheered up, so I introduced him to my friends.
"And these animals are… your companions, benefactor?"
"My friends."
"Woof woof!" "Caw!" "Pong!"
"A white wolf, a black hawk… and a flying slime…?"
"In order, that's Hati, Hugin, and Blanc. Blanc's a spirit, so she takes that form."
"A spirit?!"
"Yeah, a water spirit. If Blanc hadn't been able to make hot water for you, well… things might have gotten pretty grim."
"A truly wondrous being! And…"
Eric bent at the waist and greeted Blanc.
"Blanc! Thank you for saving me!"
"Pong!!"
"Blanc says she heard you."
Watching Blanc circle around him, Eric seemed to melt a little himself.
And so, aside from the fact that his way of speaking had no manners whatsoever, I rated Eric as a decent enough kid — and the day went by.