Chapter 97
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 97
Chapter Title: The Pill Bug
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The Pill Bug
“What are you doing here! Ah, it’s spicy—”
'She just chomped on a clove of that garlic—the kind so potent the spiciness doesn't go away even when you roast it—like it was an apple. Of course her mouth is on fire.'
I tried to keep a straight face, but I couldn't help shaking my head at the sight of Nova, her eyes welling up with tears.
“Scribe, what is it?”
Just then, Adela stepped in front of me.
She was a bit dirty and smelly, but a knight nonetheless, so I ducked behind her.
“Lady Adela. Do you know who you've taken on as your squire...”
“I do. But that is outside the scribe's jurisdiction, is it not?”
“...Yes, that's true, but.”
Nova, her eyes narrowed, shot a quick glare before speaking.
“You may not know this, as you've never taken a squire before, but there is a separate stipend for a squire's wages. I am asking in advance to save you the trouble later, Lady Adela.”
“Oh, is that so? There was something like that?”
“Yes. The costs associated with a squire can be quite substantial, after all.”
“R-Right.”
Adela nodded, visibly surprised.
Seeing Adela's reaction, Nova narrowed her eyes and glared at me.
“If you would inform me of your reasons for acquiring a squire and how you intend to handle the associated costs, I will take care of the arrangements so that you are not inconvenienced, Lady Adela.”
Nova said at length, without batting an eye.
'Is there really a separate stipend for squires?'
Knights already earned a lot of money; there was no way such a welfare benefit existed in this uncivilized medieval world.
When I nodded at Adela, who was glancing at me with trembling eyes, she spoke confidently.
“The reason for getting a squire is obvious—for menial tasks. Armor is difficult to put on and take off alone. Therefore...”
“What?! Ah, there was a loud noise nearby.”
Nova's eyes widened as she asked again.
Adela explained her reasons for having a squire. It was mostly the typical duties of one.
A knight's thick plate armor was inherently heavy and its joints complex, making it nearly impossible to don and doff alone.
Thus, knights employed aspiring knights on the cheap under the pretext of teaching them.
“I see. Still, isn't it a bit much to ask a man to do such things?”
“Nonsense. There is no gender in the relationship between a knight and a squire. The knight imparts the martial knowledge they have accumulated to the next generation, and the squire is merely the recipient.”
'...She's defending me quite passionately, isn't she?'
Surprisingly, Adela defended me vigorously.
'Well, her honor is at stake.'
I nodded, enjoying the sight of Nova's soured expression.
Nova threw various questions at her, but no matter how high a scribe's position, her commoner status meant she couldn't interrogate a knight.
In the end, Nova backed away in frustration and tossed the garlic. It was more of a soft lob than a throw.
“Are you alri... ght?”
Adela, having stylishly caught the slow-flying garlic, looked at me and asked.
Just then, the surroundings grew noisy.
In the arena, Ben and his opponent were facing each other.
The two seemed to be acquainted, exchanging a few words before drawing their swords.
Ben's opponent was not unskilled.
'The left foot, before the thrust.'
I recalled Ben's habit and predicted what would happen next.
At first, it seemed to be going as I expected...
*Clang.*
After a brief exchange, Ben's subsequent thrust made his opponent drop his sword, ending the match.
'It wasn't the left foot.'
Ben had stepped forward with his right foot as he thrusted.
Whether he had forced himself to change his habit or not, the thrust lacked its former speed, but my clear-cut strategy was now blocked.
'Hmm... This complicates things.'
If I were fighting him, a thrust like that would just be a minor sting I could take with my gut, but Adela had a low tolerance for pain.
This was the same Adela who'd sobbed and clung to my leg after I gave her two noogies.
I ran a quick simulation in my head, but no suitable strategy came to mind.
Adela was a step below Ben. If a few days of beating some sense into her could close that gap, who would bother training hard regularly?
I had prepared a perfectly legitimate cheat sheet for her, but the answer had suddenly changed.
'Tsk, how do I make up for this?'
I clicked my tongue, glancing at the confidently standing Adela.
Dressed in silver armor, Adela looked quite impressive, even to me who knew her true self.
Because of that, the guys around were whispering all sorts of things, but Adela's reaction was strange.
'...She's enjoying this, isn't she?'
Her expression was still aloof, but the slight upward curl of her lips was telling.
Just then, Adela carefully gathered her hair, which had been messed up in the previous fight. The sight was quite striking.
'...Isn't that the hand that touched the garlic?'
The moment I muttered that, Adela's brow furrowed ever so slightly.
The garlic here was so potent that even roasting it didn't remove the spiciness. The result of touching her face with the hand that had held it was obvious.
Her cheeks twitching, Adela's eyes started streaming tears. Her gaze darted around in momentary confusion before she spoke in a firm voice.
“Sob... If only Sir Toic were here to see this.”
The sight of her seemingly mourning a fallen comrade drew gasps of admiration and sympathy from the crowd, but...
I did my best to ignore the smile creeping up her lips behind her hands.
“Hey, squire.”
Just then, Nova, with a strangely crooked glint in her eyes, poked me in the side.
“Who are you?”
“I was thinking of discussing the squire's pay, as it hasn't been finalized, but if that's how it's going to be.”
“Ah, it was you, Orange. You were so beautiful for a moment, I didn't recognize you.”
“What are you talking about.”
Nova, whose face twisted into a bizarre expression as she raised the corners of her mouth while her eyes remained narrowed, held up her right hand.
“Two gold? Not bad.”
“...What squire gets two gold! Twenty silver!”
I'd been handling a lot of gold coins lately, so my sense of money seemed to have dulled. It was pocket change, but there was no reason to refuse if she was offering.
“But do they really provide a stipend for squires?”
“Ah, Sir Adela's wages will be increased slightly, so we can just take a little from that.”
Nova whispered, glancing at Adela.
'Sharing everything from her prize money to her salary... She's a good knight, after all.'
I looked at the truest knight of all, Adela, and nodded.
***
Grunn frowned at the men in front of him.
A young girl stood in the middle of a group of men who were clearly in the same line of work.
The confident way she stood suggested she was their leader.
'...A girl like this?'
“You said you're from Karzan?”
The pressure from the assembled men was considerable, so Grunn answered the girl's question meekly.
“That's right. I've come on the word of Karzan's Danso to...”
“Shh.”
“...Yes.”
At the girl's word, Grunn shut his mouth without complaint.
'A girl with purple hair... I've definitely seen her somewhere.'
The feeling of it being on the tip of his tongue but just out of reach was grating.
“So, you've come from Karzan to help?”
“The Imperial Army will soon arrive in Kaesedik. We've come to help with the preparations.”
Grunn answered, studying every part of the girl's face.
It felt familiar, yet remained vague.
“I see. For now, please rest.”
At the girl's gesture, a man approached Grunn's group.
Grunn didn't take his eyes off the girl even as he was led up to the second floor.
People gathered around the girl.
The girl said something to them, and those around her listened intently.
Grunn watched until the very end before heading upstairs.
“Was there such a large tavern in Kaesedik?”
A subordinate, relaxed after reaching the second floor, asked.
“Judging by the furniture, it must have opened recently.”
Grunn replied, looking around.
Furniture was piled up in a corner.
The furniture in the corner looked so shabby it seemed it would fall apart at a touch. It looked like it had been set aside to be thrown out.
“I underestimated Kaesedik since it's on the frontier, but there are quite a few people here.”
He nodded again at his subordinate's words.
The last time he visited, it had been an unremarkable frontier castle. But today, the atmosphere was different.
It was so full of life that he doubted if it was the same place he had visited before.
Just then, men brought them beer, breaking his train of thought. Their faces were strangely familiar, and upon closer inspection, he realized they were members of the Cute Rabbit.
The ones who had suddenly disappeared one day.
“...Zenta? You traitorous bastards!!”
His subordinates shot to their feet, erupting.
These were the men who had vanished when every hand was needed during frequent clashes between organizations.
“Wait, you can't do this here.”
They had been too meek to be of any help, yet they replied calmly even as his subordinates fumed.
“What do you mean, we can't! Do you have any idea how much danger we were in because you bastards just disappeared?! You traitors!”
Before Grunn could stop him, one of his more hot-tempered subordinates grabbed the man by the collar.
As the others rose to join the fray...
“Take your hands off my junior.”
A cold voice cut through.
It was the girl.
But her expression was completely different from before—it was deadly.
As the girl twisted her fingers, sharp shards of ice instantly formed around her, aimed at them.
The ice shards were shaped like a man thrusting a sword.
He wondered why they had such a shape, but regardless, the sharpness radiating from each shard was extraordinary.
'...A little mage with purple hair?'
A sense of déjà vu made Grunn's brow furrow.
Then, the girl lightly spread her hands to the sides.
The ice shards fanned out, filling the space around them.
Although each shard was only the size of a human finger, their individual sharpness could not be underestimated.
A presence that belied her age.
Mages were to be avoided.
Grunn groaned and raised his hands. His subordinates, who had been fuming just a moment ago, quickly lowered their weapons and raised their hands as if they had been waiting for the signal.
*Thump—thump—.*
Heavy footsteps sounded.
At the same time as the footsteps, the surrounding ice shards vanished in an instant.
The girl, who had worn a deadly expression just a moment ago, instantly changed her face.
Her face now innocent, the girl hurriedly and carefully picked up the beer mug from the table and turned around.
*Thump.*
The one who came up was a man.
Grunn knew who it was just from his build.
There couldn't be another person with such a build and intimidating presence in this frontier region.
However, the countless scars etched on his face...
'So that's what his face looks like.'
Grunn swallowed hard and quickly lowered his gaze. This added weight to the rumor that Tak-gu was the werewolf who had fought a life-or-death battle with a vampire.
*Pitter-patter-.*
The girl, her face completely different from before, approached the man and handed him the beer mug.
Her expression was so natural that Grunn couldn't tell if her real face was the one from when she aimed her magic, or this one.
“Dante sent you?”
“...Yes.”
The man asked, plopping down onto a chair nonchalantly.
Grunn politely took out a letter and offered it with both hands.
The man who received it roughly tore open the envelope and carefully read its contents.
'A werewolf can read?'
Surprised, Grunn looked up, but quickly lowered his head again at the glare from the girl standing next to the man.
“Fifteen gold coins... But there were only fourteen in the carriage?”
At the man's question, Grunn tilted his head.
Grunn knew who the carriage was for, so he had managed it with extra care. He had checked every item in the carriage before departure.
There had been exactly fifteen gold coins.
'The only one who went into the carriage was...'
...the guy who slapped his cheek at the gate earlier.
Grunn muttered for a moment before explaining. If a gold coin was missing, that must have been when it happened.
“That weasel bastard... Right. So you're stonemason volunteers?”
“...Pardon?”
“No?”
The man's tone was questioning, but it wasn't a question.
If Grunn were enough of a fool not to realize that, he wouldn't have survived this long.
“That's... correct. Volunteers.”
“Alright, Kanna can take you.”
'...Kanna. Kanna?'
Grunn recalled a name he had buried in his memory.
'Wasn't she the girl from the gang that killed a noble? I heard she was executed...'
Before his thoughts could continue, he was surrounded by men wearing strange helmets and led to the castle wall.
By the time he came to his senses, he was already carrying stones.
*Scraaaape—.*
Grunn stared blankly, mouth agape, at the girl's magic.
At the girl's small gesture, a massive stone was being carved at high speed.
The cut surface was so smooth it hardly looked like stone, and the images carved onto it were so vivid they seemed ready to leap out.
'Then the one who carved that stone wall wasn't a dwarf, but...'
He couldn't accept it.
That this tiny girl possessed a skill that he, who had dedicated his life to stonemasonry, couldn't even dream of reaching.
“Did... did that girl build this wall? No, right? Just that one stone alone...”
“Hey, Grunn, shut up and move the stones.”
Grunn shut his mouth at the harsh curse that came as a reply.
He hastily looked for his subordinates, but they were already far away, sweating profusely.
After glancing around for a moment, Grunn cleared his throat and picked up a stone.
***
'*Hooooo—.*'
Adela took a deep breath, trying to suppress her surging excitement.
She had defeated "Three-Thrust" Saint.
Saint had always been lecherous and had subtly looked down on her, so the pleasure from this victory was indescribable.
On top of that, there was the praise and attention showered upon her for defeating a strong opponent.
It was the kind of attention she hadn't received since being dismissed from the Imperial Knights.
Adela had to tense her legs to keep from collapsing from the intense joy, a feeling she had never experienced before in her life.
After savoring it to the fullest, Adela hurried to her room.
'That man... just who is he...'
Adela quickly got into the bathtub to wash herself, her thoughts turning to him.
What was his identity? He had defeated her, an aura user, with swordsmanship alone, without using aura.
His sword and his build...
She had definitely seen him somewhere before.
After searching her memory for a moment, Adela nodded.
'Deokgu was that man.'
He was undoubtedly Deokgu, the one who had cut off that despicable knight's arm.
Adela now understood why she had lost.
If he was strong enough to beat a former Imperial Knight, he was never in her league to begin with.
'He knew how to counter us. Me, and Kurteun too...'
Adela recalled his emotionless yet deep eyes and submerged her face in the water.
The man possessed a different kind of strength than what Adela was used to. It wasn't simple, brute force, but...
Adela's thoughts continued.
'Especially that swordsmanship that suppressed aura, it was the Imperial Sword's...'
A few hypotheses about his identity came to mind, but Adela shook her head underwater to dismiss them.
It didn't matter who he was.
For now, tomorrow's match was what mattered.
It was important to receive the same kind of attention tomorrow as she did today.
Adela got out of the tub, squatted down, and diligently polished her armor.
She was quite used to it now, so it was easier than before. It felt similar to polishing a sword.
Adela polished the armor even more meticulously, then carefully sprayed perfume on the inside.
After putting on the armor, she sat reverently in the center of the room. The faint scent that rose was quite pleasant.
'...If I win again tomorrow.'
Adela raised both hands high next to her ears and continued her pleasant daydreaming.
However, after waiting like that for a long time, he didn't come.
When her arms started to feel a little stiff, Adela realized.
'...Why am I waiting for him?!'
Startled by this, Adela shot to her feet.
Adela hurried to the training ground and swung her sword diligently.
Without realizing it, she practiced while focusing on the points he had made, but even after sweating profusely, something felt lacking.
Adela moved even more vigorously to shake off the frustration, but ultimately returned unsatisfied.
Entering her room, Adela instinctively started towards the bathroom, then frowned and lay down on the bed as she was.
'Didn't he promise to make me the champion?'
When she closed her eyes, feelings of resentment kept bubbling up.
She tried to force those thoughts away and sleep, but she just couldn't drift off.
*Click.*
A very faint footstep was heard.
But getting up right away would hurt her pride, so she kept her eyes shut.
*Thwack!*
“Who do you think you're fooling, pretending to sleep. Gotten lazy, have you?”
“Aaargh!!”
The sharp pain made Adela clutch her head and bolt upright.
“With your skills, you think you have time to sleep?”
His eyes were as indifferent as usual, but they held a deep weariness.
“...Ouch.”
Seeing his hideous face, Adela felt a sense of relief, as if tomorrow's victory was guaranteed.
Because she would be able to receive that same thrilling attention tomorrow.
Without realizing it, Adela grinned.
“Ugh, you stink. Go wash.”
“Aaaargh!! Ouch!”
Another punch sent Adela clutching her head and scrambling to the bathroom.
However, the bathwater was the same as before, so the smell lingered even after washing. Adela hastily doused herself in perfume to cover it up, but...
“Ugh, that perfume smell. It's giving me a headache.”
“Aargh—!”
Adela forgot that she had been waiting for him and cursed him internally.
***
'Hmm...'
I watched Adela enter the arena and let out a soft groan.
'She's a knight, but will she really do it?'
Last night, I had taught Adela how to defeat the Tyrant Knight.
It was a rather difficult demand, but Adela followed it quite well.
It seemed her victory against that Chandy knight had fanned her flames.
Still, it was questionable whether Adela would do what I told her...
'If she fails, Ben will win anyway, so I can just buy the garlic from him cheaply.'
I nodded and watched the arena.
The match began—.
Adela and the Tyrant Knight drew their swords at the same time.
Adela immediately charged forward.
The Tyrant Knight hurriedly swung his sword.
The first move.
The Tyrant Knight's swordsmanship was based on combos.
A style where he seemed to swing his greatsword wildly with his characteristic strength, but gradually picked up speed.
To counter it, one had to seize the advantage early on. Otherwise, you'd have to run around, managing the distance, until he ran out of stamina.
The latter was impossible in a limited arena.
The simplest method was to clash swords with him early on, but winning a contest of strength without aura was out of the question.
And it wasn't like Adela had a keen eye for timing either.
So, what I ordered Adela to do was...
“Wha... no... what in the...”
A nearby knight let out a sound of astonishment.
'She's actually doing it.'
In front of the Tyrant Knight, instead of clashing swords, Adela promptly rolled on the ground.
*Roll, roll—.*
In a knight's duel watched by nobles, even Count Behart, rolling unsightly on the ground was not a very good option.
Her opponent, the Tyrant Knight, must not have expected it either, as his sword slowed for a moment.
No, there was no way anyone could have predicted that a female knight like Adela would roll in the mud during a duel watched by nobles.
Even I, who had taught her, had only held a sliver of hope.
'She's a good roller.'
Adela rolled so well you'd think her parents were pill bugs. No, considering her sour smell, it was a definite possibility.
*Roooooll—.*
With a perfect, almost textbook roll, Adela passed under the Tyrant's greatsword.
The Tyrant's momentary bewilderment was his downfall.
Adela smoothly entered the Tyrant Knight's range.
*Thwack!*
Leaping up in an instant, just like a pill bug, Adela quickly took a stance and swung her sword.
She was already inside the greatsword's range.
That distance was Adela's domain.
The Tyrant Knight, having come to his senses, tried to raise his sword, but for someone who compensated for his short arms with the length of his greatsword, it wasn't easy.
*Clang—!*
A few more exchanges followed.
Adela somehow pushed forward, closing the distance even more.
The match was decided when Adela planted her fist in the Tyrant Knight's face.
“Wooo...aaaah!!”
A strange cheer erupted.
The nobles clapped half-heartedly.
Adela stood in the center, raising her sword stylishly, but having rolled on the ground, her entire body was covered in mud.
Watery mud dripped from Adela's raised hand.
'A win is a win.'
I clapped for the pill bug knight who had willingly rolled in the mud for victory.
When Adela came down, she stood before me with a cool expression and nodded, but she smelled so rank that I told her to stand farther away.
A large space formed around Adela, but from her expression, it seemed she was still basking in the afterglow and hadn't noticed.
Ben's match followed.
'His speed is a little slower when he leads with his right foot.'
I looked at Adela's still-confident back and guessed the outcome of the next fight.
If Adela was willing to roll in a mud pit for victory...
After that match, I left the inner castle.
I told Adela I would see her later that evening, and her prompt nod was somehow annoying.
I was busy, so I let it go.
'...Does that guy's prayer actually work?'
It was the day I had promised to undergo the prayer punishment for calling a shaman to the grand opening.
Pain is halved when shared, so I had to take care of my comrade-in-arms first. I moved quickly.
I stopped by Haessun's to pick up a cake first.
“I hear my son has been at your tavern lately?”
Haessun's son, the one who said he was going to be a wandering poet, was now singing commercial jingles at Hana's tavern.
“It's better than him doing nothing, right?”
“That's true.”
After a moment's thought, Haessun gave me a small discount on the cake.
I took the cake and wandered around places where the Loser might be hiding. I walked around for quite a while, letting the cake's scent waft, but she didn't appear.
'Seeing the cake plate, she must have been here recently.'
I followed the traces the Loser had left everywhere.
Most of the places were high up or in secluded corners where people didn't go, so the traces were well-preserved.
Following the trail led me to a surprising place: the chapter house.
'She's definitely in here... But if I can't find the Loser and run into the Abbot...'
I scanned my surroundings for a moment, adjusted my cape, and went inside.
I concealed the cake and entered.
Fortunately, Aince didn't appear, and though I ran into a few people, no one tried to stop me.
I had a rough idea of where she'd be, so I went to the innermost area.
In the place where the Praise Vending Machines had hidden, I let the scent of cake waft out. With a 'thump!', the door creaked open, and a familiar pair of eyes peeked out.
The gaze was full of suspicion, but it melted away the moment she saw the cake.
The Loser threw the door wide open, pointed inside, and nodded furiously.
I nodded back and followed the Loser inside.
'What are they doing in here?'
In that tiny space, the Praise Vending Machines and Parsi, plus two others, were diligently writing something.
The Loser, holding the cake, expertly went to the middle and sat down. She started writing on a yellowed piece of paper while eating the cake with her other hand.
'Punishment writing?'
The crooked handwriting crammed onto the yellowed paper was just like the punishment writing I had to do as a kid.
Looking closer, I saw a bible open next to each of them.
“What are you doing?”
“Ah... Aron... Honorary Monk!!”
When I asked, one of the Praise Vending Machines with hollow eyes shot up and crawled towards me.
Stopped by the Loser's glare, the Praise Vending Machine returned to his spot and picked up his quill.
'...Is this a sweatshop?'
The Loser poked Inquisitor Parsi next to her, and Parsi began to speak.
“I reported Inquisitor Joanna's location to our superiors... The main church said that if Inquisitor Joanna doesn't submit the bible transcriptions she's been putting off by today, she has to return to the main church...”
At his words, the Loser frowned and glared at Parsi. Startled, Parsi flinched and sat back down, moving his hand furiously.
'It's your fault, though.'
I managed to swallow my words at the sight of the Loser's face, which, though still expressionless, betrayed a hint of anxiety.
“How much is left?”
“We've been writing desperately and are almost finished, but the volume is so immense... we're a little short on hands. I'm sorry!”
Parsi apologized, terrified by the Loser's glare.
'...So this is why I haven't seen her around. She was doing punishment writing?'
Her usual behavior was that of a loser, but when it came to dealing with demons, there was nothing as effective as her.
Considering the recent situation in the east, the Loser was an essential item.
'And if she's not here, who's going to share my prayer punishment?'
After a brief moment of deliberation, I went and sat down in front of the Loser.
I spread open two of the scattered bibles on either side of me and picked up a stray pen in each hand.
“Which parts haven't been done?”
My question drew everyone's attention.
Desperation filled their gazes.
“But to transcribe the bible, you need to know how to read and write...”
“I know. I'm an expert at this kind of thing.”
Ooooh—!!
As expected of Honorary Monk Aron!!
Cheers and applause erupted from all around.
I faced the Loser, whose expression was now filled with desperation, and gave a big nod.
After mumbling for a moment, the Loser bowed her head, much deeper than before.
'That's not how you do punishment writing.'
Soon, the legendary technique of the punishment writing world—writing with both hands—was unleashed—.
“Oooooh!! He's writing with both hands!”
Like a common isekai trope, the uncivilized medieval people marveled at the advanced technology of the modern era.
***
“It seems Baron Pulpuchu is having second thoughts. To think he's forgotten all the grace he has received from House Penell... tsk tsk.”
At Gerel's report, Revillian, the eldest son of House Penell, threw his cup to the floor.
*Clang! Roooooll—.*
Ben, watching from the side, felt the rolling cup was quite similar to Sir Adela.
“Gerel, what in the world have you been doing that you still haven't set a wedding date?”
“Ahem... I have pressured him several times, but he keeps making excuses, saying the seal has disappeared...”
“The seal has disappeared? Does that even sound like a plausible excuse?”
“Seeing the pile of unprocessed documents, it seems to be true.”
A brief silence.
Ben watched Gerel and Revillian whispering with only a single candle lit and clicked his tongue inwardly.
“No seal... If that's true, this will be easier than expected. And if it's a lie, House Pulpuchu will see just how fearsome House Penell can be.”
“Hehehe... Is that so.”
Gerel and Revillian looked at each other and smiled sinisterly.
“Sir Ben, I ask that you secure victory in tomorrow's match. This is a request from the next head of the house.”
Revillian then looked at Ben with an unfittingly solemn smile.
“...I always do my best.”
Ben answered curtly, feeling a sense of frustration as he fiddled with the hilt of his sword.