The Knight's Freedom
"Aigoo, earning booze money is this tough? I thought I was spinning my wheels alone, but thanks to you guys, I'm saved!"
Average Porern mercenary. Alec.
….
….
"…Monster over there."
The silent one. Edward.
"We're searching this forest for up to three days. Starting tomorrow, how about pairing up in twos for the search and regrouping here if needed?"
Old human Sacrament Knight. Wigen.
"I don't mind."
The upright, positive, leadership-oriented, ultra-top-tier beauty who positively influences those around her. Tisha Luagwen.
If you didn't know her true nature, it'd just seem like a standard party setup, but knowing it turned the whole thing into pure comedy.
What is this, some kids' game?
Luagwen is NOT the impostor!
I let out an incredulous chuckle, a first since arriving here.
"…Shasha, Sacrament Knights must be pretty valuable, huh? For them to come charging in like this."
[A talented Sacrament Knight is worth more than a hundred sacrifices.]
"Oh ho…."
Of course, they probably weren't expecting a promising talent but rather an easy catch—a deserter who'd lost the will to fight.
Got it….
Even a no-expectations deserter was tempting enough to hunt. A sacrifice worth pursuing.
…Maybe it reflected the perverse tastes of evil gods who got off on sending NTR videos to the Goddess.
Whatever their motives, it didn't matter.
"I don't mind either. A knight would know better than us lowly mercs."
"……No objections…."
When a party gathers under that name, it naturally needs a leader to take charge. In this Suicide Squad mix of half normal folks and half weirdos, it was no surprise that the old knight Wigen seized control.
Respect for elders and all that.
Nod—logically, not just age but as a rep from the Sacrament Knight Order, the client, he was the top dog.
"You knights are best suited for that. More importantly, no matter who catches him, the reward gets paid out as usual, right?"
"As long as there's no slacking, the pay is guaranteed under the Sacrament's name, regardless of results."
"Oh."
"Krah. We hit the jackpot today."
The mercs seemed content to go along without vying for control—they'd rather ride the wave than pick pointless fights.
With the client stepping in like this, it was as good as a promise to shoulder the blame even on failure.
"Take one map each."
The maps Wigen handed out roughly sketched the forest's terrain, divided into two zones.
"Edward, who can use search magic, pairs with Alec on Zone 1. Ri and I take Zone 2."
"Got it."
"If you find deserter tracks, fire a signal flare. The knights will handle the rest."
"More importantly, show us the deserter's sketch. Can't search without knowing the face."
"…Red hair, sixteen-year-old boy."
"Figures. Kids that age never listen~"
"Enough chatter."
As Alec's rambling dragged on, Wigen cut him off wearily. He'd said what needed saying—no more chit-chat.
"…Lizardmen live in this forest, so watch out for them. No major issues otherwise. Silver-rank mercs should manage."
This job was a race against time. The search began immediately.
It's dark.
Deeper in, skeletal trees stretched tall, blotting the sky. Sunlight barely pierced to the ground, so we lit torches even in midday.
Nothing around here.
Day 1. Probing deeper, I spread my mana wide for knight traces—nothing.
"…Are you from the Magic Tower?"
"Nah. Problem?"
"No."
"…."
"…."
No more talk after that. Thankfully, no lizardmen encounters as Wigen warned. But the awkward silence dragged on.
Day 2.
"Avoid fights if possible. Mana use could mask deserter traces."
"Sure."
"Bypass the lake area."
We spotted a few lizardmen. Quick consensus: evade.
【1-5 Days】
"Unless you're bagging dozens at once, it's pointless."
[Inferior breeds like that are worthless even as sacrifices.]
I secretly sacrificed a few just in case, but one or two monsters wouldn't yield much. I'd need to get stronger so mana use didn't strain me as much.
Day 3.
Still no deserter signs. Deeper in, fog thickened.
[Today it is, then.]
Sunset came early. Perfect timing for hungry evil god followers to stir.
"Better camp here tonight."
"Already?"
"We need to talk."
Wigen gestured to a stump. Gathered branches for a fire—enough to last the night.
"Your name's 'Ri,' right?"
"Yeah."
"Not much merc experience, I'd say."
"Gotta do what it takes to eat."
I tore into the day's rationed bread. Tasteless crap, but hunger made it… nah, still tasted like crap.
"'Ri' ain't your real name, and that's Magic Tower-level mana for a non-Tower merc…."
"Not a criminal, so relax. Get to the point."
His intent was obvious since lighting the fire early. I feigned irritation at the circling probes.
"Fair enough."
The old man eyed me. Firelight sharpened his deep wrinkles.
"How much do you know, young director?"
The knight's hand rested on his sword hilt. Grateful for his directness—no need for pretense.
"Everything. Might wanna ask how I know first."
Where to even start explaining this.
"Answer me, and I'll ask one question back."
Two could play—I had one nagging doubt.
"Ludric Biern—you or a crony?"
* * *
If the disguise had even a shred of quality, I'd play along.
It was amateur hour. No one prepping a real con would botch it this bad. Probably Biern's spur-of-the-moment move.
'Count Biern posted guild requests to find his runaway Ludric.'
Facts from the novel—no doubt.
'The Sacrament Knight Order exists because of Ludric.'
Funded by House Biern. Not out of paternal love—Ludric was the count's ace card.
Money overflowed in House Biern, but cash couldn't solve everything. Mercs paid off eventually turned greedy.
Talented bastard son, perfect for the church. The count wanted him pressuring the order as a knight.
—That crazy old coot. Not even his life.
Ludric chose otherwise. A snap decision that became his best.
But it left inconsistencies from the start.
"If I'd deserted a celibate order like the Sacrament Knights, no way I'd crawl into a monster-infested forest like this."
What freedom was hiding among beasts? Better to hole up in brothels or casinos till caught.
Easy deduction knowing Ludric Biern from the novel—a desire-driven guy. Why a forest?
"If the forest intel was fake, someone bribed the first witness merc or the guild receptionist leaking the request."
A house with its own knights borrowing merc hands? Urgent, but they hid behind the order's name.
Leaked to the receptionist it wasn't Biern-related—yet a knight reacts? No one spreads false rumors to the target. Nobility insult could cost heads.
'Receptionist's bought or Ludric's plant.'
Dad hires mercs to hunt? Son corrupts the info via mercs. Ludric'd hate the similarity.
"Reaction to a receptionist leak means you're on the same team."
"…."
"No lowly deserter affords bribing a knight."
"…."
"Someone who could lure a knight this deep."
"Heh…."
Knowing the end made fitting the puzzle easy.
"If you wanted true secrecy, you wouldn't grill me outright."
The knight rubbed his brow, hand off the sword. His next words self-reproach.
"…If it weren't about the young master's safety, I wouldn't act so rashly. Age narrows the view inescapably."
"So what do you want?"
No real threat, or we wouldn't chat fireside peacefully.
"Your silence on all this."
"…."
"Three days up. After tonight, I'll tell the mercs we found tracks. They get paid, leave happy. Young master shakes another pursuer."
"Shaking a few mercs won't stop all the knights."
Mercs and knights weren't equals. Fellow knights spotting Ludric? Easy.
"The others feel the same. Hope young master Ludric doesn't abandon the Biern name. That he'll claim it, fulfill his duty someday."
But.
"As a man, we hope he tastes freedom a while longer. Savor it a bit more."
Freedom.
What every knight dreamed of once. Forbidden, so all empathized.
I got it.
"No threats planned, no gossip habit. Just curious if the generous young master fancied charity."
As a reader who'd stalked Ludric's life, I hoped his freedom lasted.
And it'd be nice if he showed sooner.
"…He'll be interested. After tonight."
"Doubt we need to wait."
Eavesdropping nearby, huh. Our talk ended their deliberations.
Two more evil god cultists besides me. The silent Edward, still out with his pair. And…
…One hiding in Alec's shadow from the start.
Following us the whole time? This farce of a party, mismatched from go, reached its end.
"Get away."
Shadows began to rise.