Five Knights Who Suddenly Showed Up
Five Knights Who Suddenly Showed Up
Knights, working as laborers at a Knight Restaurant.
To put it mildly, the plan was absolutely insane.
"But honestly, isn't it a contradiction for a restaurant that teaches chivalry to have no actual knights working in it?"
"Besides, we're not talking about every day. If we put our bodies to work during patrol off-hours in place of training, nobody can complain."
"If you really think about it, this is just another form of training. We're not suggesting we laze around serving tables. We'd simply be helping Master Lucas with the hard labor of running a restaurant, instead of drilling."
"If the food embodies chivalry, wouldn't we naturally gain something from working alongside it?"
Hamilton's voice brimmed with confidence.
It was a goddamn idiotic plan, and yet somehow, it had a weirdly persuasive ring.
"Commander Lancelot would never permit it, but if the Viscount himself approved, that changes everything."
"And who's going to get the Viscount to approve it?"
Every pair of eyes swiveled toward Heimer.
"Me?"
"Obviously. You're the most senior among us, Heimer."
"...Funny. No one ever treats me like a senior any other time."
"You're also Commander Lancelot's personal student."
Then the youngest, Briar, fixed Heimer with shining eyes.
"Senior, you can do it, right? I believe in you."
"You people are really something...."
And now, here we were.
"Sir Heimer. What brings you to me?"
He had come to Viscount Britten, who of late had been wholly occupied with expanding the castle walls and town residences alongside the Golden Wagon.
"W-well, my lord."
Where to even begin?
Heimer hesitated, cleared his throat, and opened his mouth.
"I-I would like to request a dispatch assignment."
"Dispatch?"
"Yes."
"Commander Lancelot informed me the territory has stabilized and there are no outstanding assignments at present. Has some trouble erupted suddenly?"
Faced with the Viscount's deeply serious expression,
Not trouble, my lord. It's about the Knight Restaurant.
The words simply wouldn't leave his mouth.
"Well, you see. It's about the Knight Restaurant."
"Hmm. I hear the Knight Restaurant has seen a sharp rise in customers lately. Is there a shortage of ingredients? If so, I'll gladly assist."
"No, it's not that...."
"If not that, then has Lady Camilla arrived? If she's here, then of course we must dispatch knights. She is a benefactress who invests so generously in our territory."
"Not that either...."
As Heimer fumbled and stalled, the Viscount's voice sharpened with irritation.
"Then for what purpose are you requesting dispatch to the Knight Restaurant?"
"......."
Heimer felt the stares of the other knights at his back, silently cheering him on.
Fine. The worst they can do is punish me with extra drills.
Heimer squeezed his eyes shut and shouted.
"It is for training, my lord!"
"Training?"
"Yes! Lately, our drills have grown excessively one-dimensional, and I believe we require a change of routine."
"...And why must that change of routine be Sir Lucas's restaurant? Would it not be better to root out monsters hiding within the territory, or deal with bandits active in neighboring lands?"
"Th-that is... because it is a place that illuminates the truth of chivalry! As you yourself have tasted, my lord, it is food from which one gains enlightenment merely by eating it!"
The Viscount nodded, his eyes still on the documents before him.
"I agree it is superb food."
"You do?"
"However, what do you intend to do if Sir Lucas refuses?"
"Pardon?"
"You hadn't thought that far, I see. Did you simply assume that, because you are knights, Sir Lucas would be obliged to accept you?"
"That's not...."
The Viscount set down his papers and looked at Heimer.
"Very well. Let us assume he accepts. Then how do you intend to handle your pay? A dispatch is, by definition, an assignment to resolve official matters within the territory. Yet Sir Lucas's establishment is a private space belonging to an individual."
"W-well, that is... since it falls under the domain of training, it would seem...."
"If it is training, we have a training ground. Is there a reason I should pay you out of my own coffers to send you elsewhere?"
He had no rebuttal.
The plan had been hatched on pure impulse, so they'd never hashed out the finer details.
How was he supposed to handle this—
"We will show you results from our training!"
Heimer blurted out the first thing that came into his head.
"Show me results?"
"Yes! We will advance by one stage—no, two stages beyond our current level! If we do that, we will have proven it is an effective form of training."
"Is that feasible?"
No.
He had no idea.
It wasn't a training method he had ever attempted. He had no clue how effective it would be.
But if he said no here, the Viscount would reject them outright. That much was certain.
So for now: say yes, and beg forgiveness later.
He recalled hearing somewhere that forgiveness is easier to obtain than permission.
"...It is feasible!"
"Is that so. Very well. I will speak to Commander Lancelot about excusing you from morning drills for restaurant dispatch. However, if Sir Lucas refuses, you will not press the matter."
"Understood!"
"Dismissed."
"Thank you, my lord!"
Heimer strode out of the lord's office with his head held high.
Of course, he'd now have to deliver on the words he'd just thrown out.
Eh. It'll work itself out somehow.
Heimer was painting a distinctly optimistic picture of the future.
And then, the next day.
"Attention."
"Attention!"
"At ease."
"At ease!"
"Down."
"Down!"
"Roll right."
"Roll right!"
"Up."
"Up!"
Heimer and the four knights were utterly wrecked by the elf woman standing before them.
Since early morning, they'd been subjected to a regimen far more brutal than their usual drills.
"Who the hell are you lot, making a racket about wanting to work here?"
Andrea—the waitress who always greeted customers with a smile—was merciless toward anyone who wasn't a customer.
"W-we only wished to learn chivalry...."
"I handle the work here fine on my own. So get lost."
"W-we can't do that!"
In that instant, Andrea closed the distance in a flash and pressed a menu board against Heimer's throat.
He hadn't even seen her move.
Had that been a real blade, his head would be rolling.
A chill shot down Heimer's spine.
The speed and the strike were both beyond reason.
"Five of you can't even handle one elf fighting with a menu board, and you call yourselves knights?"
He wanted to protest that maybe the problem was her being insanely strong, but opening his mouth again was clearly asking for another beating.
"S-Sir Lucas! Please let us meet with Sir Lucas! If you would only hear us out, surely...!"
The moment Heimer locked eyes with Andrea, his breath caught in his throat.
It was ferocious killing intent.
No—fury so intense it could be mistaken for killing intent.
What on earth had made her this angry?
"As if it's not bad enough that worthless nuisances keep multiplying lately—now you lot show up to get in my way too?"
"G-get in your way? What do you...."
Andrea didn't answer Heimer's question.
"...Miss Andrea?"
"You don't need to know."
"Ah. Yes, ma'am."
Had her expression softened for just a moment, or was he imagining it?
Last he'd heard, she was working here specifically to learn the hunting method.
That was definitely the story.
"If this is about the hunting method, then w-we can help you with that."
"...What? How could you lot possibly help me?"
"Wasn't it about the tuu hunting method? The one you mentioned before?"
"...Ah, right! That. That's what it's about."
Andrea briefly averted her eyes from the knights.
"So. You're saying you can help me?"
"Of course!"
"How?"
While Heimer hesitated, Hamilton cut in.
"If we assist you, Miss Andrea, would that not naturally free up time for Sir Lucas? Once that happens, opportunities to leave the territory will inevitably arise, which will in turn create occasions for the two of you to go hunting together, thereby generating the circumstances in which the hunting method may naturally be acquired—this is our assessment!"
Andrea looked at Hamilton with an expression of mild surprise at how smoothly his argument flowed.
"...Not a bad thought."
"Thank you!"
That was when it happened.
"Andrea, what are you doing out here instead of— eh? What brings knights from the order here this early in the morning?"
"Ah, boss! These knights say they'd like to work here as dispatch staff."
"Dispatch staff?"
"Right?"
The moment Heimer saw Andrea's face light up with a radiant smile at the sight of Lucas, a thought struck him.
The "nuisance" she'd complained about—maybe it had nothing to do with hunting after all.
Nah. No way.
The pride and ego of the elven race were legendary.
Couldn't be.
No way.
***
"...So, to summarize: you want to work here?"
"Yes!"
I looked at the five knights sitting in a neat row in front of me.
Rigid-postured, eyes glittering—they were practically beaming zeal in my direction.
We can do it!
It felt uncannily like I was conducting a job interview.
Been a while since I'd had that feeling.
My memories from my past life are full of moments exactly like this.
I'll work hard, Chef!
I've seen plenty of new hires overflowing with that exact energy.
How many of them survived?
Eight out of ten quit.
The crushing workload.
On top of that, the miserably lean pay.
A workspace that demanded constant, razor-sharp vigilance because you were wielding knives and fire all day.
Until they properly learned the trade, all they did was prep ingredients. Most of the newcomers, worn down by the sheer repetition, ended up walking.
I'd been one of the two who survived that environment.
To endure the murderous intensity of the job, I'd needed a hobby—something that let me completely forget work, even just for a little while.
That hobby was romance fantasy novels.
Something I could sink into. A brief escape from brutal, exhausting reality into a fantasy world.
Now it's my new reality, but....
I studied Heimer and the four knights.
"So you want to work mornings here?"
"Correct!"
"Did you get permission from Commander Lancelot?"
"Yes! The lord approved it, sir! He's treating it as a form of training!"
Hamilton answered with a big, cheerful grin.
Training, huh.
Right.
"I hear training hours for the territory's knights and soldiers have recently gone up. That wouldn't have anything to do with this, would it? You're real motive is earning a staff meal while you work."
"...N-no, surely you jest."
Sweat beaded on every last one of their faces.
Bingo.
Eyes don't lie.
No matter how masterful a swordsman, that holds true.
I didn't care what their real motive was.
As it happened, customers had increased and I needed extra hands. And besides—
They're knights. Their stamina should be more than sufficient.
These were people whose raw physical strength and endurance operated on a completely different plane from ordinary civilians.
It reminded me of my days as a cook-knight in the Imperial Knight Order, when knights would occasionally be sent over on kitchen support duty.
At first, the unfamiliar work wore them out fast, but once they adapted, their ingredient prep was second to none.
Though it did take a little time to whip them into functional shape.
They've got the drive. Teach them for a few days, they'll be fine.
Having mulled over how best to wring work out of them, I smiled.
"Well, fine. As it happens, we've been short-handed lately. But I'll warn you—this restaurant is hard work. You five won't be in the dining hall. You'll be in the kitchen with me. Understand what that means?"
"...Er, not entirely, sir."
"It means you're going to sweat buckets right alongside me."
"......."
They all stared at me, faces blank.
"I'll make you wish you'd stuck with regular training."
"S-Sir Lucas...."
As if his survival instinct had kicked in, the youngest knight, Briar, shot his hand up.
"Once you're in, you're in."
"Pardon? What does that mean?"
"It means you can walk in whenever you feel like, but walking out is another matter entirely."
Some primal intuition must have registered, because the knights flinched in unison.
"From now on, I'm the head chef, so I'll be speaking casually. Got it?"
"...Yes, understood."
"What are you doing?"
"Sir?"
"Move. Faster. Chop chop."
Kitchen crash course: now in session.