Chapter 54
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 54
Chapter Title: Bran River (3)
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“Hmm?”
“Ugh?”
Blake and Lindelmann flinched at the same time.
Moreover, Lindelmann's body suddenly shivered as if he'd caught a chill on a spring day.
“Woof! Woof! Huh? What's wrong?”
Ruben asked, her cheeks puffed out like they were about to burst, looking puzzled.
“Who knows? Heh heh. Maybe someone's cursing me, even in a situation like this.”
Lindelmann let out a feeble laugh.
Ever since leaving Elbera, he'd felt drained of strength, but starting from yesterday—when the Imperial Knight exam had taken place in the capital—he'd truly gone off the rails.
“Hmm.”
In contrast, Blake merely frowned lightly at the sudden eerie sensation before ignoring Lindelmann entirely and reaching for his food again.
Soon, the Glorista's cabin fell into an odd silence, broken only by the occasional sigh and the sounds of eating.
And watching them quietly was a girl with a breathtaking beauty.
It was Anrose Bunnyard, a direct descendant of the Bunnyard Count family.
She sat ramrod straight in a chair set aside a short distance from the three men, gazing at them—especially Blake and Ruben—with weary eyes.
The two had been eating nothing but fish, potatoes, and hard bread for three straight days, yet they showed no signs of fatigue as they shoveled it in today as well.
‘Where does it all even go?’
Anrose couldn't help but click her tongue in amazement.
Blake's massive build might explain it for him, but this young mage—who was nearly as small as she was and had a face so stunning even she had to admit it was pretty—was truly surprising.
He ate a tremendous amount, in a manner that bordered on miraculous.
Unlike Blake, who was purely focused on filling his stomach, Ruben savored every morsel of fish or potato with an expression of utter bliss.
It was enough to stir an appetite even in someone like her, who normally ate very little.
“Huh? Would you like some, miss?”
Catching Anrose staring blankly at her, Ruben beamed and held up a potato.
Startled, Anrose whipped her head away.
“Ah, no. I'll pass. You eat up.”
As she turned her head, Anrose bit her lip lightly.
This wasn't the time to marvel at their eating habits.
Three days had already passed, but she hadn't learned much—not the letter's contents, nor much about Blake's group.
Abandoning the Grime family to board this ship had been the right call, but if things kept going like this, it'd all be for nothing.
‘I need to make a move. This won't do.’
“W-well, if you say so...”
Ruben bit into the potato she'd held up, looking awkward.
“Phew! Ruby, you're lucky. Finding such joy in a single potato. Heh heh heh...”
At that moment, Lindelmann—who'd been sighing with that weary laugh for three days straight—rose unsteadily and staggered out of the cabin.
‘Perfect.’
Anrose flicked a quick glance at Blake, then slipped out after him, as if she'd made up her mind.
Blake's indifferent gaze fixed on her retreating back.
The moment she stepped out of the cabin, the piercing sunlight and cool river breeze made Anrose frown slightly.
A few crewmen lounging on deck and eating their meals glanced her way, but after stern warnings from the ship owner, they quickly returned to their food.
Anrose scanned the surroundings briefly.
Lush green forests everywhere, gray-brown boulders lined up like walls.
The sparkling deep green waters under the sunlight formed a landscape beautiful enough to savor with a cup of tea on any normal day.
But not today; ignoring the scenery, she headed straight for one person.
“Sigh...”
As expected, Lindelmann was gripping the railing and letting out another long sigh.
It was starting to grate on her nerves just hearing it, but Anrose approached with a composed expression.
“Sir Zaroph.”
“Ah, Miss Bunnyard.”
Lindelmann bowed his head, looking a bit embarrassed.
They'd exchanged a few words by now, but the gulf between a direct heir of a prestigious house and a bastard from some obscure noble family still made her intimidating to him.
“Is it really that disappointing not to become an Imperial Knight?”
“Yes. It's been my dream since I was a boy.”
“If knighthood is your dream, becoming an Imperial Knight isn't the only path, is it? You could join a renowned knight order and earn great fame through hard work.”
“Heh heh. What order would take someone my age? And even if one did, who would appoint a bastard like me as a full knight?”
It was the truth.
Famous knight orders—household names—could be counted on one hand, and the total candidates they selected each year barely reached a few hundred combined.
Yet nobles eager to place a child in one overflowed.
Having a member in a prestigious group like the Blue Falcon Knights was a massive point of pride.
As such, they didn't take just anyone as candidates.
A tiny elite of true talents aside, selections hinged on family status or donation sizes.
A bastard like Lindelmann had no shot at even candidate status, let alone full knight.
“Is that so?”
“Pardon?”
Lindelmann turned at Anrose's subtle tone.
She pressed on with an even more insinuating voice.
“What if someone brought information vital enough to shape a knight order's future...? And if that someone was a talented young noble with a promising path ahead, wouldn't they make an exception...?”
“Important... information?”
“Yes. For instance...”
She paused, glanced around, and lowered her voice further.
“A letter sent out after decades by the once-leading heir to the throne, through a trusted aide?”
“Wha—?”
Lindelmann's eyes wavered wildly.
No fool would miss what she meant.
‘Got him...’
Reading his face, she continued swiftly.
“Besides, isn't it true your exam absence ties back to that rude barba—er, no, Sir Blake's letter?”
“...”
His noncommittal silence spurred her on.
“So, don't you deserve to know the real cause of your predicament? What you do after is your call, of course.”
Her words were carefully vague, but the message was clear: You're a victim too—why not peek at the letter?
It applied to her as well.
Only by knowing the contents could she decide: side with Prince Henrik, or deliver it to Count Darlington?
“But Blake doesn't know the contents himself. How could I...?”
“It's not like asking him outright is the only way.”
“Then what? N-no way! You mean steal the letter...?”
Lindelmann's face stiffened.
‘Ugh! Don't blurt it out like that, you idiot!’
Flustered by his bluntness, Anrose drew closer.
“What an outrageous thing to say... Just glancing and putting it back isn't stealing.”
“R-right. Ah, yes.”
Her sweet scent—faintly laced with sweat—hit him, turning his face red as he nodded unconsciously.
Up close, her beauty was blinding.
Aware of his turmoil or not, she leaned in further, babbling on.
“The Imperial Knight path is blocked anyway, right? Wouldn't it be smart to scout alternatives fast? Like Count Darlington or the Blue Falcon Knights...”
She had to wrap this up before reaching the capital in two days.
Blake ignored her completely; Ruben was too innocent and clueless.
That left only this dejected young knight.
She had to crack him somehow—and fortunately, he had that glaring weakness: his burning desire to become a true knight and rise up.
“Mm!”
Lindelmann's shaken eyes slowly sharpened again.
‘Yes! It's working!’
Life flickered back into eyes that had been lifeless for three days; confident her hook had set, Anrose went for the kill.
“The Blue Falcon Knights would surely value you highly. So first, the letter...”
“No.”
“W-what?”
His unexpected resolve made her eyes bulge.
He repeated himself, his face stern—almost fierce.
“I said no.”
“B-but...”
“I'm not a full knight yet, but I know what honor means. I have zero interest in chasing my dream with such cheap tricks.”
“Still... just think it over. A quick peek at the letter...”
Panicking, Anrose stumbled over her words.
From their first canal encounter to these three days, Lindelmann had struck her as a pathetic, mopey, spineless man.
She'd felt a twinge of pity for his shattered dream, but like Albert Grime, his lechery for her looks was obvious—he was just another easily played mark.
So his sudden steel and glaring fury caught her off guard.
“Miss Bunnyard.”
“Y-yes?”
“I, Lindelmann Zaroph—inexperienced as I am—am no coward. If I'd stoop to such craven, petty schemes for success, I never would've started this grind to begin with.”
“Ah...”
Anrose didn't know the real Lindelmann.
He might cut corners elsewhere, but his knightly dream was no half-measure.
As he said, easy paths would've kept him from Northernrocks Fortress altogether.
He could've taken a fat payout from the Zaroph matriarch—who despised him—in exchange for cutting ties, then bribed or donated his way to exam advantages or a spot in a top order.
But he hadn't.
His pride ran deeper than she'd imagined; he craved success earned squarely, not begged or bought.
“Miss Bunnyard, I'll rise on my own merits. So I can stand tall before the likes of you—who sneer at others' sweat just because you were born highborn. Watch me!”
Staring into her wide eyes, Lindelmann spun on his heel with a sharp whoosh.
“W-wait...”
Anrose floundered, unsure what to do.
This was only the second time a young man had brushed her off like this—after Blake—and she blanked on how to handle it.
But she couldn't just freeze.
Biting her lip, she started after him.
“Hey, Sir Zaroph, I...”
Swish.
The cabin curtain parted as someone emerged.
Blake.
“Ah!”
Anrose went rigid at the sight.
He'd clearly overheard everything.
“...”
Blake's cold gaze slid from her to Lindelmann.
Lindelmann hesitated a beat, then squared his shoulders and met his eyes.
He'd done nothing wrong this time.
Blake stared silently before speaking.
“Useful.”
“What do you mean?”
Lindelmann squinted at the cryptic remark.
“Sir Zaroph will make a decent knight.”
Delivered in that gruff, emotionless drawl.
“Ah...”
But no praise Lindelmann had ever heard landed quite like Blake's words did.
(To be continued)