Chapter 139
Chapter 139
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 139
Chapter Title: 57. Red Hat (3)
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Amunson, burning with a thirst for revenge against Simon—no, Owl 18—was perched on a rock, staring up at the moon in the sky.
He had been something of a respected figure back in Joachim.
But out here in the wider world, things were different.
It was in the Allied Forces that he truly realized he was just one knight among countless others.
The days fighting orcs were still terrifying to recall even now.
Monsters far stronger than humans swung around massive lumps of iron, and he hadn't even harbored the thought of facing them head-on.
They avoided them as much as possible, occasionally ganging up in groups to barely take one down.
So when the Allied Forces finally defeated Oqua, Amunson felt relief more than triumph.
He wasn't one of the Allied Forces' key players. He was just a lowly soldier content with survival.
The true ones who led the Allied Forces to victory were a handful of geniuses.
Maybe that was why he so desperately wanted to beat Simon in their duel at Balshard. He didn't want to keep carrying that sense of powerlessness.
But he'd lost again.
At first, he thought it was cowardly. Pretending to be injured out of nowhere, deceiving him like that—it went against knightly honor.
But soon he realized the truth. Knights were ultimately beings who had to wage war. A sneaky victory was better than an honest defeat.
Next time, he'd have his revenge on Simon.
Lost in such thoughts, he reached out toward the moon.
"What're you doing?"
Suddenly, someone approached Amunson.
Instructor 2—no, it was Gonte Merchin.
"Instructor."
"You've taken off the hat, so I'm not your instructor right now."
"Yes, Sir Gonte..."
"Call me brother."
"Yes, brother."
"The moon's huge tonight."
In private, they were on brotherly terms. Gonte often droned on about the old days, but he was a solid knight.
Gonte looked up at the moon alongside him and patted Amunson's shoulder.
"Training too tough?"
"No, sir."
"Good to hear."
"Brother."
"Hm?"
"I think I get why you brought us here."
"What's the reason I brought you all?"
"Joachim is weak."
Gonte eyed him. Amunson pressed on.
"That's a fact."
Amunson recalled their arrival in Brioll.
The knights of Joachim had been deflated from the start. That was the problem right there. Sure, Brioll was known as the land of knights, but they still needed some spirit, some guts to say, "Let's give it a go."
Flinching before the fight even started, shoulders slumped—they weren't proper knights back then.
"But things will change now."
Gonte smiled at Amunson's words.
"Yeah, they have to. Joachim needs to change."
"Honestly, I thought it was humiliating to come train in another country. But now I get it. Why we had to come here."
Under the harsh training from the red-hatted instructors, Amunson felt he understood what Joachim lacked.
"It's truly thoughtful training."
What impressed Amunson most was the training style proposed by Instructor 1.
He taught them things like archery, trap disarming, and ambushes—skills not typical for knights.
He'd resisted at first, but after learning more, it clicked.
To protect Joachim, these were more vital than sloppy swordplay.
"Joachim's a small nation. So we need methods suited to us."
Amunson clenched his fist.
"The old Joachim would've tucked tail and whimpered at the first prod."
"Not that bad..."
"No, it was. I know. But not anymore."
They kept rolling.
Rolling across the ground without even knowing why.
And in the process, something welled up inside him.
"Empire or whoever—if they mess with Joachim, we won't let 'em off easy. If we can't win, we'll bite their ankles and make 'em limp. Pure grit and spite."
"Amunson..."
Gonte's mouth hung open. He struggled for words before speaking in a choked voice.
"That's it."
"Pardon?"
"That's Joachim."
Gonte looked ready to shed tears.
"Truth is, Joachim was never strong. I live with old tales on my lips, but even back then, we weren't much."
"Brother."
"But we had fight in us."
Gonte gazed skyward, lost in memory.
"We grew up in the Alloy Mountains. Our land is ours to defend. No one fights for us..."
"Brother..."
"I must sound like an old fogey. And I am, to a degree."
"Not at all."
"But if there's one thing this old man knows better than you young ones, it's human nature."
He took Amunson's hand.
"The weak can never keep the peace. Never forget how cruel winners can be to losers."
"Yes."
"Peace has lasted too long."
Gonte was a seasoned noble before he was a knight.
He couldn't pinpoint it exactly, but he sensed an ominous undercurrent sweeping the continent.
That was why he'd entrusted his knights to Brioll's third prince.
He'd known it the moment they met.
There was something about Yuri.
He shone.
Standing by that shining light felt like it could ward off the encroaching darkness from outside.
Just a hunch.
"Maybe it's just my imagination. But look—we came to Brioll, and I realized I wasn't wrong."
He gestured to the training facilities beside the barracks.
"They're teaching us mountain combat, essential skills, and rekindling the fighting spirit Joachim forgot."
"Yes."
"Even I, born and raised in Joachim, never thought of training like this. Brioll's third prince is no ordinary man."
"I agree."
His swordsmanship took after his father, he had leadership to guide people, and the insight to spot problems and solutions.
Yuri Brioll was different somehow.
"Let's give it our all."
"Yes, brother."
"I'm a warm brother now, but tomorrow, I'm Instructor 2 again. No mercy—brace yourself."
"Yes."
"You don't look scared."
"Instructor 3 frightens me more."
"Hm..."
Gonte and Amunson clapped each other on the shoulders.
The bright full moon illuminated the two men.
Even after Yuri left the imperial capital, his name echoed on like a refrain. Magazines kept publishing articles about him, and tales of the Allied Forces centered on him even became books.
The drug rehab clinics modeled after Yuri brought the temples unprecedented profits.
"Hoo..."
But Vlad couldn't simply rejoice.
"This is odd."
He was conversing with the Black Knight in his office.
"So many citizens are in rehab, yet nothing's changing."
"Means drugs are that rampant."
"Good for the temples, maybe, but..."
Vlad tapped the table. Beneath his fingers lay reports on the drugs spreading through the empire.
"I don't know what to do."
"Expand the clinics?"
"That won't cut it. This isn't just on us. Drugs spreading this fast means..."
He felt an unidentified, ominous premonition.
At first, he'd only aimed to boost the temple's influence with high-end rehab for elites.
But the situation had worsened.
Drugs that started in the capital soon blanketed the empire. Now, the nation's foundations were at risk.
"I can't shake the feeling there's something behind it."
"You mean..."
"Someone's trying to shake the empire's roots."
It wasn't just drugs.
Magazines churned out sensational stories, people divided into factions and fought, materialism peaked with luxury and debauchery rampant, and the wealth gap yawned wider than ever.
All this happened in a flash.
"Too fast."
Vlad's worry was the speed.
Societies change; side effects are normal.
But the empire was transforming too rapidly.
At this point, it looked less like change and more like decay.
"Then who?"
The Black Knight's question left Vlad without an easy answer.
If someone could alter the empire, there was only one with that power.
But why would he ruin it?
The emperor wasn't mad.
"I don't know."
No hard evidence—just a hunch. Vlad backpedaled. It wasn't something to say lightly.
He leaned forward.
"Black Knight, forgive me for this, but I have one request..."
"Vlad."
The Black Knight cut him off.
"You've said this much; I'm not fool enough to miss it."
"Black Knight."
"I'll look into it."
Vlad bowed his head.
"Thank you."
"No need for your thanks. I serve His Majesty. Worrying for him is my duty too."
He stroked his mask.
"Your words have me worried now. What's happening in the empire?"
Silence fell between them.
Vlad spoke again.
"Also, the Allied Forces campaign just ended, but I hear you're training troops again."
"How'd you...?"
"I have eyes and ears."
"Routine drills."
"If so, good..."
Vlad sighed.
This unease began when the empire mustered the Allied Forces.
From the orc subjugation muster, he'd doubted the palace's motives.
Sure, some border nation faced threats from orcs, but that wasn't the empire's problem. It wasn't that benevolent.
"Don't worry too much, Vlad. The gods watch over the empire."
"Yes."
Vlad smiled wryly.
Sometimes, this masked knight seemed more devout than him.
The Black Knight continued.
"If trials come, the gods surely provide the tools to overcome them as well..."
Yuri sat in a chair, biting into an apple.
Suddenly, his body jolted.
"What the?"
Yuri adjusted his red hat and looked down.
"Why's the chair shaking?"
"Sorry!"
"Owl 18. You rebelling or what?"
"No!"
"You holding a grudge from before?"
"No!"
He was perched atop the "human chair" made by Owl 18 (Amunson). Yuri bounced up and down, chuckling.
"That all a Joachim chair's got?"
"Nngh... No!"
"You just gritted your teeth."
"No!"
After tormenting Amunson a while, Yuri finally stepped down.
"Alright, that's enough."
"Thank you..."
Amunson, relaxing in relief, froze at the sight of approaching dainty shoes.
"What's up, Instructor 3?"
"A guest has arrived."
"Oh?"
It was Instructor 3—the one who drove the owls hardest, with vicious cruelty.
Cute looks, but a viper's heart.
When she started punishments, no one stopped till someone collapsed.
Instructor 1 was preferable.
But she shattered Amunson's hopes.
"I'll go handle business, so you manage the kids, Instructor 3."
"Understood."
Yuri patted the despondent Amunson's back as he descended.
Instructor 3 got right to work.
"Owl 18, what are you doing right now?"
"N-nothing."
"I asked what you're doing, and 'nothing' is bullshit?"
"Sorry!"
"Sorry doesn't answer what you're doing..."
Impressed by her scolding prowess, Yuri headed out of the training ground. The overall progress came into view.
"Impressive."
Joachim's knights were transforming into elite guerrillas through rigorous training.
When they returned home, any foes entering the Alloy Mountains would be annihilated before they knew what hit them.
"How'd you end up in the red hat?"
"Huh?"
The guest was Guillermo, vice president of Ireine Merchant Company.
"What's the occasion?"
"Your Highness. The president's finally back."
"Oh?"
"Scored a massive deal. The haul's no joke."
"Ireine through and through."
Yuri smiled.
"Actually pulling it off..."
Right after Oqua's fall, Ireine had set off east without hesitation. True pioneer spirit.
"So, when's she coming?"
"She's not."
"What?"
"Went straight to the empire."
"The empire?"
"Asked me to relay her apologies to you, Your Highness. The goods are too good to delay. Plans to flood the empire and rake in gold."
"Smart move, but..."
The empire was the continent's richest by far. Whatever she brought from the east, it'd fetch top dollar there.
But Yuri inwardly worried.
"The empire, huh..."
"Something wrong?"
"Nothing."
"She's been to the empire plenty. She'll handle it."
"Yeah..."
His concern was none other than Ekaterina.
She loved new curiosities. Hearing of eastern imports, she'd summon Ireine in a heartbeat.
And that spelled trouble.
Given what he knew of their personalities, it wouldn't end well.
"Not my problem, though."
Yuri shrugged.