Chapter 33
Chapter 33
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 033
Chapter Title: The Sun, Not the Wind, Strips the Traveler Bare
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"But Her Highness is always under the protection of the royal knights, isn't she?"
Shan said this as he glanced back at the two knights standing behind her.
Objectively speaking, their skills weren't all that impressive.
At best, they were on par with Sir Katra, whom he'd seen before—or maybe a notch below.
If they hadn't been that weak, he couldn't have taken down two armed knights barehanded, even if his attacks had dulled while subduing them.
Someone on the level of Sir Gowell, who served under Count Shedil, would have forced him to take injuries.
Frankly, they didn't seem to measure up to the famed royal guard knights.
Could escorts for royalty really be inferior to a mere count's knights?
Princess Sherin's next words cleared up his doubts.
"They're not from the royal household. As I said, I have almost no allies in the court, so bringing them along on a secret outing would expose my movements. Aran and Kagon were assigned to me personally by my uncle."
Her uncle must be that Count Paless she'd mentioned once before.
Now it made sense why their skills were so lackluster.
In a territory where monsters rarely intrude, there's no need to train or hire top-tier knights.
Conversely, talented knights wouldn't want to linger in a place where they can't build their reputations.
"You've endured my relentless questions, so now it's my turn to ask: why do you want to become a knight?"
"To rise in status and claim my own territory."
Sherin's expression turned a bit lackluster at Shan's curt reply.
Desire for land was the clichéd dream of every aspiring knight strutting around with delusions of grandeur.
But her face grew serious at his next words.
"I know Pendia is the only nation in the alliance where Altoins can settle and live."
"That's right. No need to mention the Old Faith nations like Libert and Ajun. Even the New Faith countries, Horais and Luman, aren't friendly to Altoins."
Horais, the grassland nation on the western edge of the Arman Alliance, was steeped in extreme blood purism.
Obsessed with purebred horse breeding, they even discriminated against their fellow western alliance members as outsiders.
As for Luman, it had once been the most welcoming place for Altoins, sparking a rebellion that ended in suppression and exile.
"Yet even in Pendia, Altoins are forever relegated to the lowest classes. I want to create a territory where they can live without fear."
What planted that dream in Shan was the Altoin traveling circus he'd met in the past.
They had no choice but to turn their unique physical traits into spectacles just to reach Pendia—and even then, they endured society's harsh persecution with bowed heads.
It was marginally better in Pendia, but the same nonetheless.
Half of Pendia followed the Old Faith, and under their pressure, Altoins couldn't even become knights, just as Shan hadn't.
Colluding with the upper crust was tricky for them, making success as merchants difficult too. When public sentiment soured, persecution rained down.
Altoins in eastern Pendia mostly lived in isolated villages, avoiding westerners—except those in cities. Naturally, areas without westerners teemed with more monsters and harsher terrain, ensuring perpetual poverty.
Shan wanted land where they could live comfortably.
If the lord and several knights or officials were Altoins, no one could discriminate based on numbers alone.
And if that lord was a powerful knight culling the monsters, as the princess had said, they could secure an even better position and thrive.
"That sounds like it could lead to an Altoin-only nation. If we accept the theory that knights are a form of mage, you'd be the messiah the Revivalists crave."
"I'm not interested in reviving the Alto Empire. I don't think it's something I could achieve anyway."
Gathering every Altoin worldwide wouldn't even fill a few territories, let alone a nation.
And attempting it would bring the full might of the Arman Alliance crashing down to annihilate them.
No—even the thousands of troops from Pendia's lords alone would render one man's strength meaningless.
Only a grand mage from the ancient Alto Empire, said to level mountains and carve rivers, could dream of such a thing.
"I see. Just a beacon for a listless people, then."
For some reason, Sherin looked delighted hearing Shan's ambitions.
She clapped her hands lightly, a lazy smile like a satiated cat on her face.
"Very well. Shall we get down to business? I dub thee knight. And... I won't require a vow of fealty. You can roam as a freelance knight as much as you like."
"Pardon?"
What did the princess gain from this? Shan—and even Roden behind him—nearly blurted it out.
Just moments ago, she'd haggled over five or seven years, and now this sudden pivot?
"I meant to bind you with a contract because otherwise, I couldn't control you. But... now I see that wasn't necessary."
Sherin paused to sip the tea on the table.
It was fine Webers stock, but she grimaced slightly—it clearly wasn't to her taste.
"I told you before: my brothers are all idiots. If your goal isn't just scraping by as a knight flashing your prowess, but achieving that grand dream, you'll have to help me become queen—contract or no."
That's when Roden realized why Sherin looked so smug.
She'd only just realized from Shan's ambitions that the fish was already hooked.
"Freelance as you please: hunt monsters, crush bandits, enter tournaments. But when I need you, come and help. Since you're not my vassal, it's not an obligation, and I'll pay accordingly each time. Like a mercenary."
Sherin frowned briefly, then added,
"No, 'mercenary' has a bad ring. A knight and a princess don't need a contract. We can exchange what we need based on mutual desires... partners, friends—something like that? Oh, and I might call you for checkups and research. That's good for both of us, right?"
Her last words came in the curious tone of mage girl Sheri, not the imperious Princess Sherin.
The guards behind her exclaimed in horror.
"Your Highness!"
"Even so, calling an Altoin a 'friend'—"
"Quiet."
Sherin silenced them with a finger to her lips, beaming at them.
By her proposal, Shan had zero burdens.
He could enjoy freelance freedom while aiding the princess without fully joining her camp.
It left all the risks to her side and pure gains for his.
Of course, if she failed to become queen, his dream stayed a dream—but he wouldn't sink to the bottom with her.
Shan and Roden exchanged looks and nodded in unison.
In the Webers mansion's drawing room, Shan knelt on one knee before Sherin.
The princess borrowed a guard's sword and tapped each of his shoulders once.
"In the name of the Goddess who watches over all creation and the rightful rulers of Pendia, House Hasra, I, Sherin Giselle Asté Hasra, dub the Altoin Shan a knight."
A sparse dubbing ceremony with just five people.
Even so, the atmosphere was profoundly solemn.
"Now, you need kneel to no one save God, sovereign, or your own lord. Nobles must formally request trial to punish you. You gain the title of 'Sir,' the right to full plate armor, first pick of warhorses, tax rights in your domain, and the right to challenge any who insult you to a duel."
In the Arman Alliance, "knight" meant more than privileged warrior.
The first knight, Baron the Great—founder of the Arman Empire—was the Knight King, the Goddess's first consort.
His descendants were lords' swords and shields, guardians of the Goddess Faith, entitled to myriad privileges.
Sherin listed Shan's new rights, ending with a blessing.
"Sir Shan, abuse not your sacred authority. Act without shame to the Goddess's name. Honor king, nobles, Goddess, and clergy. Protect humanity from foes and monsters."
Now that Princess Sherin had granted him knighthood, no one—not even the bedridden king—could revoke it.
Ignoring it just because he was Altoin would be seen as defying the royals and church.
As the declaration ended, Shan glanced up.
"...Is that it?"
"Prefer a grand affair with crowds and hour-long speeches? I'm busy now, but if you insist, I can schedule one soon."
"I was wondering if something this simple is legally binding."
It felt too curt, almost careless—far simpler than he'd imagined or heard.
He didn't care for pomp, but would anyone recognize it as legitimate?
"No issue formally. As a Pendian princess, I can dub knights, and we have two knight witnesses. Administrative details I'll handle—just think of a crest for your house banner."
Sherin returned the dubbing sword to the guard.
"Congratulations, Sir Shan. History's first Altoin knight."
The word "knight" resonated deep within Shan.
When Count Shedil had spoken it, it felt an unattainable peak.
Who'd have thought it'd come so easily...
No—easy was the wrong word.
He'd earned it by slaying a cockatrice one-on-one—a feat rare even in history books—which let him even converse with the princess.
Among Pendia's hundreds of knights, how many had slain a cockatrice or equivalent and lived? Barely twenty, all told.
If not Altoin, he'd have been knighted long ago—with greater honors.
"Come to think of it, you'll need a surname soon. Got any ideas?"
"Not yet."
Commoners picked surnames freely; he could have made one anytime.
He just hadn't found one that clicked.
Roden had even offered the Webers name, but was refused.
"A man destined for greatness can't just take any old name."
Sherin lit up at his answer.
"Mind if I suggest one? I prepared something in advance."
Wondering if it hid political intent, Shan glanced at Roden, who nodded.
"I'd be honored."
"Barendil. In the old tongue, 'Beside Baren'—or 'Baren's equal' in that era's reading."
An Altoin bearing the name of Baron the Great—the first and mightiest knight, idol of all westerners, ancestor of the five royal houses?
It'd stir massive backlash; no stretch to predict.
Sherin smiled brightly, oblivious or unconcerned.
"Grand name, isn't it? But to fulfill your wish, you'll need feats worthy of it. Then no one will call it arrogance."
If Shan matched Baron the Great's legends, the name's weight would match.
Besides, as Sherin had said, those who hated him already would anyway.
"I'll strive to meet expectations, Your Highness."
Sir Shan Barendil bowed his head lightly while standing—no kneeling.
As a freelance knight, he knelt only to Goddess and Pendia's king.
"Is this truly wise, Your Highness?"
On the way back, Sherin glanced at the voice behind her.
Her guards looked worried.
"You'll face enormous backlash. Even lords quietly supporting you may turn away. Dubbing him knight despite that—and no vassal contract?"
"An Altoin won't grasp grace or faith. Revoke it now and renegotiate terms..."
Neither suggested skipping the dubbing.
They agreed Shan's strength was vital for her cause.
They'd felt it firsthand from that devilish Altoin boy.
"Revoke? Your best joke this year. Who trusts a lord who speaks from both sides of her mouth?"
Sherin shut them down firmly and walked on.
Her eyes forward, mind replaying the conversation.
'Yes, this is the best way.'
Since discovering Altoin Shan, Sherin had steadily allocated her intelligence network to him.
Birth, upbringing, desires, joys, hates...
No lovestruck girl studies a man this deeply.
Unintentionally punched, nosebleeding, she analyzed relentlessly—and today, completed Shan's blueprint.
'Starved for affection and goodwill. Basic social ethics instilled but not embodied. Can't ignore the persecuted weak. Strong resistance to authority, especially harming his own.'
Binding such a man with contract meant little.
If he deemed it wrong or unwanted, he'd defy it—even if social suicide.
So she'd started with fifteen years, then discarded it.
Naturally, it became a debt of gratitude.
Most remember grudges, forget favors—but Sherin was certain Shan wouldn't ignore generosity.
Faith in the man? More in her analysis.
Vassal oath? He'd flee in crisis.
But bound by sentiment? He'd never abandon her fall.
For the world's sharpest sword, at such laughably low cost—while those fools overlooked it.
"Congratulations, Sir Shan!"
"Please, no need for that, sir."
After negotiations, upon hearing the news, Kallion bowed deeply to Shan—like to nobles' squires or knights of old.
Shan hurriedly raised him, flustered.
Roden eyed his father in disbelief.
"Father..."
"Don't look at me like that. Treat him not as friend, but superior in public. Practice now."
Indeed, knighthood elevated Shan beyond Roden's compare.
Casual camaraderie in public? They'd say Roden mocked a knight.
Lowly merchant scum scorning a dubbed knight—even if Altoin.
In rigid class society, challenging rank was grave.
"Should've asked the princess to knight you too."
Shan sighed; Roden shook his head.
"Told you: not me. Not till this damned constitution's fixed."
Barring Altoins was mere nobles' convention.
Sir Darkal's lack of qualms showed: prove prowess, earn knightly respect.
But a knight terrified of blades? Worse than an Altoin knight.
A cripple failing "fighter" basics.
Knight Roden exposed? He'd be despised; Shan, dubbed alongside, questioned too.
After the fuss, they discussed the newborn Barendil crest.
Shan had ideas ready; it settled quickly.
"Green eyes."
"Best symbolizes me."
"True. Unforgettable at a glance."
On black field: faintly glowing green eyes.
Black for night and shadow; eyes mimicking Shan's.
Veteran houses had complex crests; new knightly ones sufficed simple.
A skilled painter turned their sketch into a fine crest overnight.
Roden and Shan nodded, pleased.
"Looks sharp! Perfect."
"Embroider on banners, surcoats over armor?"
"Yes. Even helmeted, all know it's you."
Of course, facing Shan in darkness? Glowing green eyes reveal him anyway.
How terrifying? Roden learned in the Demon Realm sewers.
Future Barendil crest foes would learn too.
"Just need fitting plate armor, and we're set."
"Yeah. Time it right if possible..."
They meant the knightly pinnacle:
The jousting tournament.
Knights vied for glory; many maimed or slain.
Graceful yet brutal—soon in the capital.