Chapter 96
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 96
Chapter Title: Akdella
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96
Akdella
“I hit you lightly, so stop whining and get up.”
‘…Lightly?’
For a moment, the squire, Pah, wondered if he had misunderstood the meaning of the word ‘lightly.’
After all, the man’s punch had been more painful than anything Pah had ever felt in his life.
Not even the time he’d been beaten for forgetting to clean his knight’s armor, causing Sir Saint to step in dung inside it the next day, had compared to this man’s single fist.
‘…How in the world?’
He couldn’t understand it.
If his opponent had used Aura, it would have made sense.
Knights were monsters, after all.
But this man had taken down every squire in the room one by one with his bare fists, without a shred of Aura.
The power contained in that massive fist was so great that Pah, after taking just one hit, had lost all strength and collapsed backward.
The man must have been a demon, because even as Pah’s eyes rolled back and drool trickled from his mouth, he had come over and landed another blow.
When he opened his eyes again, it was all over.
“I’ll count to three. One.”
At the man’s voice, Pah forced his unresponsive body to move. His legs gave way, and he staggered, but he somehow managed to stay upright.
“Two.”
“Aaaargh!!”
‘Didn’t he say he was counting to three?’
A question arose at the sight of the man suddenly striking him, but he didn't dare voice it.
The man was a barbarian; he probably didn't know how to count to three.
“Form a single line.”
“…?”
Everyone wore a questioning look, but when the man raised his fist, they quickly scrambled into a line. One guy who was slow on the uptake got kicked and went rolling across the floor.
He let out a long scream, but no one helped him.
“Alright, when I call your knight’s name, step forward. Sir Gereureun of Bizant, Sir Saint of Blant, Sir Ben of Karzan.”
‘…Why me, of all people?!’
Pah, who had always been proud to serve Sir Saint, now desperately wanted to deny any association with him.
He didn’t know why, but he did not want to step forward.
Just then, he felt sharp glares on him. He turned his head to see the others staring at him, as if asking, ‘What are you waiting for? Get out there.’
‘One minute they’re saying squires have to help each other, the next they’re this! Bunch of disloyal curs!’
Pah dragged his heavy feet forward.
Two other squires were already there.
Both of them looked just as miserable as he did.
One of them seemed relatively unscathed. Of course, his expression was as sorrowful as if he’d lost his home.
“How long has each of you been serving?”
“Three years, sir!”
“Five years…”
“…One month.”
The answers varied.
“Pretty pathetic for someone who’s been at it for five years.”
At the man’s blatant sneer that followed, Pah’s brow furrowed.
Sure, they had all charged him and been soundly beaten, but that was only because they couldn’t use their swords.
Squires were taught swordsmanship by their knights, not how to brawl like common thugs. If they had been allowed to draw their blades, the outcome would have been different.
“I was taught swordsmanship, not how to throw punches like you. You should be grateful that sword fighting between squires is forbidden.”
The spot where he’d been hit still throbbed, but he couldn’t let the insult to his swordsmanship slide.
“There’s always an excuse. If fistfighting were forbidden, would you stop doing it?”
Pah tilted his head at the man’s out-of-the-blue question.
‘It’s not like brawling is essential for survival, like eating…’
However, the man’s confident demeanor made him wonder if he had misunderstood something, but the expressions of the squires around him were just as confused.
“See? In the end, it’s just an excuse. You know you’d be just as pathetic with a sword in your hand. That’s why you can’t draw it.”
“I don’t know what nonsense you’re spouting, but if I had drawn my sword, the result would have been different.”
“Then draw it. Or are you scared?”
At the man’s taunt, Pah hesitated for a moment before drawing his sword.
“Hey, sword.”
Just then, the man held out his hand to the fellow standing right next to him.
‘Fool. As if a squire, an aspiring knight, would lend his sword…’
Pah fell silent as the man handed over his sword without a word.
Come to think of it, the guy standing next to him was completely unharmed, not a scratch on his face or body.
“Hey, Five Years.”
The man casually flicked the tip of the sword.
Pah suppressed his rising anger and glanced around. The other squires nodded. They would clearly take his side, no matter what happened.
There was nothing holding him back anymore.
It was time to show this brute, who relied solely on his size, what true swordsmanship was.
Pah, a squire of five years, naturally unleashed the swordsmanship of Sir Saint.
Clang—!
“…Ugh!”
At Pah’s swift swordplay, the man seemed flustered, swinging his own sword awkwardly.
‘Hmph, a simpleton who relies only on strength. Swordsmanship isn’t all about power.’
The exchange continued.
However, the man seemed to have some skill, as he managed to block somehow, stumbling backward all the while.
Finally, just as Pah was about to bring his sword to the man’s neck.
Thump!
The man’s clumsy thrust lightly tapped Pah’s chest. A duel of swords was, after all, a human endeavor; the outcome didn't always reflect one's skill.
Just like now, when the man's fumbling sword had tapped Pah's chest.
‘Damn it, what luck.’
Pah gritted his teeth and stepped back.
“Ha… haha! So this is a knight’s swordsmanship. Nothing special.”
The man laughed, his voice filled with surprise.
Jeers erupted from the crowd, but he paid them no mind and even took a stance.
“You just got lucky. It will be different next time.”
Pah said, gritting his teeth.
“F-fine… let’s go again!”
The man shouted clumsily, as if he truly believed he had won on his own merit.
Pah immediately lunged forward.
The corner of the man’s mouth seemed to be turned up in a smirk, but on closer inspection, it was a scar.
Clang—!
Another lucky strike.
“Damn it! You’re the luckiest bastard I’ve ever seen!”
Pah seethed, gritting his teeth in fury.
“Hmm. Again, then.”
The tone of the man’s voice had subtly changed, but Pah, consumed by his excitement, didn't notice.
‘The fool doesn’t even realize how lucky he was!’
But just as the saying goes, ‘You can’t win three times in a row at dice with luck alone,’ there was no way luck would favor him again.
Clack-.
Unlike before, the exchange was short and swift.
Just then, Pah felt a strange sense of déjà vu.
He ignored it and pressed on with his sword, but the feeling only intensified.
And that sense of déjà vu—
“I’ll be taking this.”
—manifested into a clear reality that struck Pah squarely on the head.
“Gyaak—!”
“Pah! That idiot! No wonder he’s been a squire for five years! What a moron!”
“He’s a disgrace to all squires!”
As Pah collapsed from the man’s awkwardly extended sword, cries of frustration erupted from all around.
However, Gelheim, who stood behind them, was quietly rummaging through his pockets.
‘Do these idiots really think that was luck? Because of these morons, my silver coins… I don’t have many left…’
Fortunately, Ben was generous to his squire, so he had a decent amount of silver.
‘To think they see that as luck. The world is full of fools.’
Gelheim politely held out his silver coins and resumed watching the tragic spectacle unfold before him.
However, the others weren’t complete halfwits either; after three of them were successively struck down, they finally shut their mouths.
Of course, the man, who was now thoroughly enjoying himself, didn’t stop.
He gleefully beat the kids up.
Soon, after knocking them all down, the man approached him.
“Are you also a racist who hates the smell of garlic?”
It was an incomprehensible question.
But at the dangerous smile playing on the man’s lips, Gelheim offered his silver and frantically shook his head.
‘He certainly does seem to be of a different species…’
Gelheim accepted the silver and swallowed his questions as he watched the man once again start singing about squire money.
***
“Lady Adela, you’ve grown even more beautiful.”
Startled by the voice beside her, Adela turned her head.
‘He went to the squires’ gathering.’
She let out a small sigh of relief upon confirming that it wasn’t him.
The knight who had greeted her was someone she had met before, but he was unremarkable, not worth remembering.
“Ack… No, thank you.”
Despite her inner thoughts, Adela responded with a small smile.
Regardless of who it came from, attention was always exhilarating.
Adela had become a knight in the first place to seek attention. Receiving the attention she had been deprived of for a while, her posture naturally straightened with pride.
Knights approached her one after another, lavishing her with compliments on her beauty.
Adela accepted them with practiced ease, offering only a small smile in return.
The continuous praise began to restore the confidence and pride that had been shattered the previous night.
‘That’s right, I am Adela, the Thorned Flower. But that man, why did he…’
A sudden thought made Adela shudder, and she shook her head.
‘To say that I smell.’
It was absurd.
It took ages to take off plate armor; one couldn’t possibly remove it every time nature called. A certain smell was unavoidable for a knight, yet he had pointed it out to her face.
He was just as uncivilized as he looked.
The next to approach was the greasy-looking Sir Saint, whose demeanor was different from usual.
The last time they had met, he had asked her to dinner, but now he was openly showing hostility.
“Lady Adela. I didn’t expect this from you. I’m disappointed.”
Adela was taken aback by Saint’s contorted face and harsh tone.
She had no idea what he was disappointed about; their relationship wasn’t one to warrant such talk in the first place.
But Adela needed to win this tournament, so she had to maintain a friendly relationship with Saint, who would surely be an obstacle.
‘If I can’t win…’
The thought sent a slight shiver down her spine.
“Sir Saint, what do you mean by that?”
Adela forced a smile as she asked.
“I heard you took on a male squire. You, who always insisted on a female squire and went without one for so long, suddenly taking on such a massive man… Tsk.”
‘I was looking for a female squire?’
Adela frowned at the baseless remark.
There was only one reason she hadn't taken a squire.
She was worried that the attention on her would be diverted elsewhere. There was no way she would have been looking for a female squire.
‘Besides, it’s not like I hired him.’
She didn’t know what he was thinking, but the man had been the one to volunteer as her squire. Adela, having surrendered her honor, had no choice in the matter.
‘…I gave up my honor, so I have no choice.’
Of course, she had drawn her sword and even summoned her Aura to attack him, but she buried that fact deep in her memory.
She had simply been tricked into surrendering her honor, but as an upright knight, she was honor-bound to fulfill her promise.
‘So they’ve been gossiping because I took him as my squire.’
Only after hearing Saint’s words did Adela understand the whispers she had been hearing.
‘…These so-called knights are truly vulgar.’
They were shameless, each of them parading around with a useless female servant of their own.
“It’s not like that. He was assigned to me by Baron Pulpuchu, so I had no choice.”
Adela replied, deliberately putting on a bitter expression.
Only then did the knights’ expressions soften.
‘Disgusting. They could at least wash themselves.’
Adela grimaced at the foul stench characteristic of knights.
“I knew it! I told everyone that Lady Adela, the ‘Thorned Flower,’ would never do such a thing! And don’t you worry, Lady Adela. We’ve taken care of everything.”
“…Taken care of things?”
“An accident could happen if that squire of yours harbors any lustful thoughts, couldn’t it? Out of my concern for you, I had my squire give him a thorough lesson, so you have nothing to worry about.”
The knight smiled with a confident grin.
She didn’t know how many squires they had, or how strong they were, but…
‘Their squires are going to teach the man who subdued me in a single move?’
“…Haha.”
Adela let out a hollow, incredulous laugh.
***
After her duties were over, she returned to her room.
Adela rushed to the provided bathroom and struggled to remove her plate armor. Normally, she would have called a handmaiden, but she did it alone to prevent any rumors from spreading.
Then, she quickly stepped into the prepared bath and scrubbed her body vigorously with a cloth.
After her bath, Adela came out, crouched in a corner, and poured water into her plate armor, meticulously cleaning the inside. Then, suddenly overwhelmed by her pitiful situation, she burst into tears.
She couldn’t remember the last time she had cried, but once the tears started, they wouldn’t stop.
After a long cry, Adela snapped back to her senses, put on the still-damp plate armor, and doused herself in perfume.
Afterward, she called a handmaiden to check for any smell, then ordered everyone to stay away before kneeling in the center of the room with both hands raised high.
The fact that this entire process felt natural made Adela feel miserable all over again.
However, she couldn’t let her guard down, not knowing when he might appear.
As Adela held the posture of a scolded child, many thoughts raced through her mind.
Most of them were about her own mistakes.
‘Why did I seek him out? Why did I wager my honor? Why, why, why…’
If her past self were here, she would have beaten her senseless.
*Click.*
A faint sound.
Adela’s body trembled.
“Ah, the smell of perfume.”
*Thwack.*
“Aack!”
Adela pitched forward.
“Stop faking it and get up.”
“Ack!”
She scrambled up and resumed her position.
The man stood before her.
“I heard your first opponent is Shandy.”
‘It’s Saint, not Shandy…’
“Ack!”
Adela answered immediately.
“Watch and memorize.”
The man began demonstrating his swordsmanship.
All night long, Adela repeated the same motions, being called a fool over and over again.
***
‘Thrust, then an overhead slash. If he does a low slash after the thrust…’
Adela clutched her head, muttering constantly.
She had never seen such a crude method of training and doubted its effectiveness, but in the face of that fist, thoughts were meaningless.
She could only prostrate herself and do as she was told.
“Lady Adela. You are as lovely as ever today…”
Someone spoke to her from the side, but Adela didn't answer.
‘If you don’t win, I will visit you every day.’
The man's cold, humorless words were deeply embedded in her chest.
Adela had wanted to win before, but now it was a matter of life and death. No, it was a matter of basic human dignity.
Various other things happened, but Adela only focused on memorizing the man’s words.
A makeshift arena had been set up in the inner bailey.
It was quite shabby, but the other knights and nobles seemed satisfied.
Of course, its quality was pathetic compared to the newly built castle walls, but Adela paid it no mind.
Count Behardt blathered on about something.
Knights went up and fought.
Adela wasn't interested.
‘Thrust, then an overhead slash. If a low slash comes, create some distance and thrust again. If not…’
Then, Adela’s name was called.
Her opponent was Sir Saint.
“To face Lady Adela right from the start. This must truly be fate.”
He was muttering something, but Adela focused on the man’s blurry figure behind Saint.
Saint took his stance, and it was similar to the one the man had shown her.
Adela kept muttering to herself as she assumed the stance he had taught her.
The stance was similar to her original one, but it was firmer, giving her a sense of stability.
Of course, Adela was in no state of mind to care about that.
The signal to start the duel sounded—
Saint, with a greasy smile, beckoned her forward with a flick of his hand.
His expression was full of confidence.
And for good reason. They had dueled several times before, and Adela had lost every time. The gap wasn't insurmountable, but it was there.
Adela didn’t think too deeply.
She simply recalled one of the scenarios the man had taught her—‘When Saint yields the first move’—and immediately charged forward.
A frontal thrust—
A question arose.
Saint’s specialty was the thrust, so why would she open with a thrust against him? But her body, already trained, moved naturally.
“Ha! Lady Adela, are you trying to be cute with me? How adorable!”
Saint laughed greasily and belatedly thrust his own sword to counter.
Though he had moved much later than her, his thrust was already hurtling towards her.
True to his reputation as ‘Saint of the Three Thrusts,’ his speed was unbelievable.
However, it was just as she had practiced with the man.
Adela naturally continued with the next move.
As if she had been waiting for the thrust, or rather, as if she had lured him into it, she executed a smooth slash.
Clang—!
Adela’s sword struck Saint’s blade precisely one handspan from its tip.
With a clear ring, Saint’s thin sword was deflected slightly.
A wide opening was created, but Saint was no pushover. His expression hardening in an instant, he twisted his wrist to transition into a slash.
It was an improvisation, unlike Adela’s practiced move, but his reaction was superb.
Of course, it was one of the scenarios the man had shown her.
‘An overhead slash. So, advance.’
The moment Adela saw Saint’s wrist move, she was already executing the next motion.
Two more exchanges followed.
Clang—!
Saint’s expression was that of a man who had seen a ghost.
Adela, with her sword at Saint’s neck, wore a similar look.
Waaaaaah—!!
The cheers erupted a moment later.
Only then did Adela realize what had happened.
She had defeated Saint.
And in just three exchanges.
Adela turned her head.
“Squire money is great! Squire money is the best!”
There he was, arm in arm with the dejected squires, singing a bizarre song.
‘…I moved exactly as he taught me. How?’
A completely different kind of fear made Adela’s body tremble slightly.
““The Thorned Flower!””
However, the endless cheers and applause continued.
A sensation she had forgotten since becoming just another common knight.
The thrill that coursed through her entire body made Adela beam with a wide smile.
***
I watched Adela trying to act nonchalant amidst the cheers and shook my head.
As they say, even a dog at a village school can recite a poem after three years. Extracting information about the man's sword style from Shandy's squire had paid off.
‘Good thing her first opponent had a five-year squire.’
Having watched and learned from his side for five long years, the squire could roughly imitate his knight’s sword style, even if not perfectly.
By superimposing that onto the knight I had observed, I got a decent picture.
I created a scenario for Adela to lead the duel under the best possible conditions and then drilled it into her, Korean-style.
As expected of the Korean results-over-process method, she was able to win.
“Ack. Ack. Aack-.”
Adela muttered to herself as she returned to her spot. Her voice was giddy, as if expressing her joy.
It seemed the flawed process, a side effect of Korean-style education, was showing, but such minor things were unavoidable.
And considering Adela’s old way of speaking, becoming ‘Akdella’ might actually be better for her relationships.
Besides, her smile showed that she was satisfied too.
It was an education that satisfied both parties.
‘Next up were Tyranno and Ben, was it?’
I thought about Adela’s opponent for tomorrow.
Among them, Sir Tyranno stepped into the arena.
‘A greatsword. Is that to compensate for his short arms?’
I focused my eyes and examined Sir Tyranno.
‘Was his squire a three-year? He’s roughly similar, but the feel is a bit different.’
Tyranno’s opponent this time was an unremarkable, ordinary knight.
I mentally dubbed him Knight A.
Knight A, facing Tyranno, was passive from the start, which led to an irreversible outcome.
Sir Tyranno swung his greatsword in wide arcs.
He left many openings, but the passive Knight A, perhaps sizing him up, didn’t exploit them. As Tyranno’s assault continued, the power behind his swings grew.
When it reached a point he could no longer handle, Knight A fled the arena without even extending his sword once.
‘And they call that a knight… Tsk.’
The result was a hollow victory for Sir Tyranno.
After studying the squire’s sword and watching Sir Tyranno’s duel, I had a pretty good idea of what to do.
Tyranno’s sword needed to be stopped before it gained momentum.
‘The problem is how to get in close…’
I nodded as I saw the victorious Tyranno return and start hitting on Adela.
Adela had no honor to speak of anyway.
Winning was all that mattered.
Adela felt a sudden chill down her spine and shivered slightly.
***
“Viscount Bonita’s proposal for an alliance…”
“The eldest son of the Kembain family has asked for the young lady’s…”
Important words were being exchanged rapidly beside her, but they didn’t register in Nova’s ears.
‘What… what the hell is he doing over there?’
Nova’s eyes widened as if they would tear at the sight of a bizarre leather helmet towering among the squires.
Nova stood up from her seat, ignored the stares from those around her, and hurried down.
“If a squire has no money, is he even a squire?”
Soon, she saw Aron, who had gathered the squires and was spouting strange nonsense.
Nova quickly smoothed her hair and casually pulled out a clove of garlic she had tucked into her bosom.
The sharp, spicy smell made her eyes water, but she had practiced and was quite used to it.
“What are you doing here?”
Nova asked, naturally taking a large bite of the garlic.
“Ugh… what’s that, raw garlic smell.”
As the man stumbled backward, the half-bitten clove of garlic fell to the ground and rolled away.
***
‘Running errands at my age…’
Grun, the leader of the Cute Rabbits, gritted his teeth.
That gigolo, Anderson, must have been an orphan, for he had brandished a whip without a second thought. Defeated, Grun had headed for Casedic.
He was busy enough as it was, but he had to bring his kids and even drive the carriage.
“B-Boss, isn’t that Takgu?”
Startled by the voice beside him, Grun whipped his head around.
There stood a half-finished castle wall, its presence anything but ordinary.
Grun, who had lived his entire life as a stonemason, was genuinely impressed by its perfectly smooth surface and the carvings etched upon it.
Grun, known as a master stonemason in Karzan, could feel the incredible skill emanating from the wall.
‘How is such stonework possible… Is he a dwarf?’
The wall naturally brought to mind the dwarves of the north.
Grun’s underlings, being of a lower caliber, didn’t seem to appreciate it and were spouting nonsense.
‘Tsk, their main profession is stonemasonry, and yet…’
The organization, originally formed to protect their rights, had changed its character at some point.
Although Grun had led the way as the boss, he couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable standing before a work of art like this wall.
After admiring it for a while, Grun belatedly realized that the figure on the wall looked familiar.
‘The helmet is different…’
But the form was unmistakably his.
If not, it was definitely someone of the same species.
Grun didn’t think the man was human.
He guessed he was a werewolf, the ancient enemy of vampires, or perhaps a wolf or some other wild beast.
Then, it was their turn.
“Where are you from…”
He came face to face with a familiar person.
The man was a perfect definition of ‘shifty-looking.’ He was the one who had been with Takgu.
“Hate Black Blood! Love the Empire!!”
““Hate Black Blood! Love the Empire!!””
He led the chant, and the men behind him responded.
“What… what brings you folks here?”
The man asked wryly, his face looking like he desperately needed to relieve himself.
“Danso sent us to meet Takgu. We have something to deliver.”
“……Something to deliver?”
It was the first time Grun had seen a person’s eyes do a full rotation. The man swallowed hard and whispered his question.
In response, Grun jutted his chin toward the carriage behind them.
Taking a deep breath, the man opened the carriage door with a trembling hand and looked inside.
His narrow eyes instantly tripled in size, and drool trickled down the corner of his mouth.
As he reached a trembling hand toward the gold, he suddenly slapped his own cheek.
*Smack—!*
A crisp sound.
As if that wasn’t enough, he slapped his cheek again and adopted an expression similar to a monk’s.
“As much as I love gold, one is not better than two.”
Muttering incomprehensible words, the man nodded.
“Go inside and wait at the ‘Wonderful Aron Rabbit’ tavern. If anyone asks, use Deokgu’s name.”
The man said, red handprints now on both his cheeks.
Grun, momentarily taken aback by this bizarre reaction, remembered the wall and opened his mouth.
“Ah, by any chance, is the one who built that wall in Casedic Castle?”
“…Why do you want to know?”
The man’s eyes narrowed as he held out his hand.
A dagger had appeared in it.
The naturalness of the movement startled Grun.
‘What’s that smell? Is it poison?!’
The pungent odor emanating from the dagger assaulted his senses.
Startled, he looked at the man, only to see that the dagger's owner was also trembling, his eyes red.
“You bastard!!”
Grun’s men shouted in alarm, but the guards had already surrounded them.
‘…Since when?’
The guards’ response was faster than Karzan’s. Grun swallowed hard and raised both hands.
“I’m a stonemason, so I was just curious who possessed such outstanding skill.”
Grun replied, trying his best to hold back the tears welling up from the pungent smell.
“I see. Our Boradungi built the wall. Kanna Boradungi is also at the ‘Wonderful Aron Rabbit’ tavern, so you can meet her there.”
The man, a tear leaking from his reddened eye, put away his dagger and gestured.
Grun nodded and headed inside.
For a frontier castle, Casedic had a fair number of people.
Grun asked around and found the ‘Wonderful Aron Rabbit’ tavern.
A giant of a man standing in front blocked their way.
“Who are you lot?”
Judging by his aura, he was clearly in the same line of work.
‘Makes sense. A big tavern like this would be managed by the local thugs.’
Grun calmed his underlings and stepped forward.
“We’re here to see Takgu.”
“…Takgu? Never heard of him.”
“The shifty-looking man at the gate definitely told us to go to this tavern. Ah! He said to mention Deokgu.”
“Dylan did? Deokgu is dead… Hmm… Be careful inside.”
The man stepped aside with a reluctant look on his face.
As Grun was about to pass, a thought struck him about the man’s impressive physique.
“Ah, by any chance, are you the stonemason who built the wall here? Your skill is…”
“No, I’m no stone-chipper. I’m a carpenter who manfully and proudly climbs mountains.”
“Tch! A filthy carpenter!”
An underling behind him reflexively cursed and pulled out his tool.
At that, men poured out of the tavern, more than twice their number.
Grun had to shamefully admit that carpenters were more manly than stonemasons before he could enter the tavern.
‘Looks like a hideout.’
The inside of the tavern was filled with rough-looking men who reeked of the same trade.
It seemed to be a neutral zone, as they were all separated into different groups.
As they entered, all eyes turned to them.
Under the weight of their gazes, Grun forced his back to straighten.
Just then.
“You’re from out of town.”
A little girl standing in the center of them all asked in a clear voice.