Chapter 141: The Tin Knight and The City of Scales
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 141: The Tin Knight and The City of Scales
The eastern part of the continent. The Ionian Kingdom.
Marquis William Hemming, a giant of the old nobility faction and now a key figure in the current royalist faction, was delivering a report to the King.
“—And so, the Witch of the East’s apprentice and her party are currently staying in the Locria Federation. It is said they will move to find the next sacred treasure as soon as they have reorganized.”
Having finished his report with a posture that was respectful yet not subservient—the very picture of a nobleman—William discreetly observed the King’s reaction.
“Excellent! Truly excellent! It hasn’t even been half a year, yet they’ve already gathered half of the eight sacred treasures!”
A broad smile spread across the king's face, openly displaying his delight.
The king’s appearance was exceedingly strange.
This was not to say he was unattractive. On the contrary, his face alone was handsome enough to be praised.
The problem was his attire.
From neck to toe, the space that should have been draped in splendid ceremonial robes was instead occupied by a suit of silver full-plate armor.
On his head, he wore a helmet instead of a crown. If not for the raised visor, one would not have been able to see his face at all.
Befitting the king of a nation, the armor was magnificent.
At the same time, however, it was not merely ornate; it was also clearly practical.
One could almost see the blood and sweat the artisans must have shed to simultaneously achieve these two conflicting elements.
Marquis William Hemming thought to himself.
He always looks the part, at least.
With his already tall and handsome features clad in such fine armor, he looked like a figure from a painting just by sitting there.
It was understandable why the young, full of vigor and ignorant of the world, were so enthusiastic about their king.
It was materialistic, but an outstanding appearance could, in itself, be a virtue for a statesman.
The problem is that it’s only his appearance that’s impressive.
William sighed inwardly.
His current attire was a problem in itself.
A king wearing armor? That in itself was plausible.
If this were a special event like a visit to the troops or a knighting ceremony, William and the other traditional nobles would have shown respect, not displeasure.
But this was no special occasion. For him to wear armor like it was everyday clothing was another story entirely.
Good heavens, a king who wouldn’t take off his armor even when approving documents, attending court meetings, or even during meals?
“The kingdom is in a constant struggle to reclaim its former glory. A commander in wartime must never let his guard down.”
Some fervent royalist subjects, seeing this, praised him as the epitome of a knight, but to William, it was simply madness. The word ‘eccentric’ had never been more fitting.
Gazing with melancholic eyes at the cavalry lance leaning beside the throne, William lamented his fate.
If only he hadn’t rashly provoked the witch’s apprentice that day, he wouldn’t have had to become the political partner of such a king.
“It is truly astonishing. And a pity, as well. If only the Kingdom of Heaven had come when I was still a prince, before I ascended to the throne. Had I but a compass that could reveal the locations of the sacred treasures, I would have gone to retrieve them myself.”
“…Is that so, Your Majesty.”
Though William rarely agreed with the King, at this moment, he found himself in accord with the monarch’s opinion.
As the King said, if the young king had set out to find the sacred treasures and died in some foreign land, William wouldn’t be suffering from this stomachache now.
“However, hmm. The witch’s apprentice… her name was Dorothea, was it not? What was her surname?”
“Dorothea Aschengard, Your Majesty.”
“Aschengard. An old-fashioned name. It was common in fairy tales and old folk stories. It feels like it has become rather rare these days.”
“That is likely because it is such a common surname in the East that people have been flocking to change it to something else.”
“Hahaha, it’s amusing that in everyone’s pursuit of the new and unique, the most old-fashioned has become the rarest.”
The King, laughing cheerfully, waved the report in his hand as if troubled.
“In any case, about this Dorothea. It’s good that the retrieval work is fast, but it’s a shame the reports are so shoddy. Take this one, for instance. Aside from the trivial formalities and greetings, the main point is simply ‘Retrieved the item hidden on a remote island.’ Is that not all?”
“…That is… correct.”
William couldn’t bring himself to say, ‘The original message that arrived was even shorter, and had neither formalities nor greetings.’
Especially since it was his job to edit Dorothea’s half-hearted reports into something presentable to the King.
“In the future, when the kingdom reclaims its former glory, the process of retrieving the sacred treasures will become an epic poem, passed down through generations. It would be a great shame if the content were so lacking.”
“Couldn’t we just hear the story directly from the witch after all the retrieval work is done?”
Sensing an instinctive foreboding, William tried to change the subject, but as always, the King did not move according to his intentions.
“Of course, I plan to, but a person’s memory is inherently unreliable, is it not? We cannot depend on that alone. It is my wish that we have more detailed records.”
“This servant cannot dare to fathom Your Majesty’s wisdom in preparing for the future. However, would it not be too great a burden to assign a new task to someone who is already fulfilling her duties so admirably?”
Though his tone was polite, William was desperate.
Considering the witch’s temper, which he had experienced firsthand, he couldn’t imagine the backlash if he added a useless task to her workload.
“Hmm, that is also true. Then how about this? We could send someone from our side to follow them. If we handle the recording, it shouldn’t be much of a burden on them. Ah, sending a royal bard wouldn’t be a bad idea either!”
William thought to himself.
Wouldn’t this be fine?
“That is a good… no, it does not seem to be a good idea, Your Majesty!”
It was not fine. It was not fine at all.
At the chilling sensation of webbing growing between his fingers, William hastily corrected what he was about to say.
The King asked, puzzled.
“Even this is not acceptable?”
William pondered what he could say to this dense king to make him give up.
It was pointless to bring up political issues like power struggles over who to dispatch or diplomatic relations with other nations.
If the King were the type to care about such things, he would never have attempted to revive the kingdom with a mere eight magic tools in the first place.
To persuade this knight-king, who seemed to have been born in the wrong era, spouting nonsense about being ‘always on the battlefield’ and arming himself with armor in his daily life, William needed to lower himself to the same level.
“—Your Majesty, can a trainee knight honing his skills alone in the training yard be the same as one demonstrating his martial arts before the watchful eyes of the knight commander?”
“Hmm, I suppose not. His shoulders would be much stiffer, would they not?”
“It is the same principle. People tend to get nervous doing things they normally do without a second thought when they are being watched, and even more so if the observer is of high standing. Just as the mindset of a trainee knight watched by the knight commander is different from one focused on his own work, if Your Majesty sends your eyes and ears to document their every move, they will surely be unable to perform to their full potential.”
“Mmm. Still, you know.”
“Furthermore, the renowned knights of old did not act in anticipation of their deeds being known to others. If one only cries for honor and performs good deeds when others are watching, how can that be called true honor or true justice? It is merely a materialistic act, conscious of the fame and profit to be gained. I fear, Your Majesty, that by monitoring their actions, this great task upon which the kingdom's honor and future depend will be reduced to a mere theatrical performance.”
“Oh!”
The King, as if deeply moved, rose from his throne, strode over, and grasped William’s hands.
William was horrified, but the royal guards and servants merely looked on, their faces resigned to the ways of the world.
“Lord William, you have given me a great realization! You are absolutely right. If those performing this glorious mission act unnaturally because they are conscious of me as an audience, the value of this journey will be tarnished. I cannot be the one to sully the first steps of our glorious kingdom. You have spoken very well!”
“…I am glad to have been of help.”
A faint smile appeared on William’s lips.
It was not, of course, because he was pleased with the King’s thanks, but because he realized the webbing between his fingers had vanished.
Until the next day, when rumors spread that he was a favorite so cherished that the King himself had held his hands in gratitude, causing him to be further shunned by the other nobles, Marquis William Hemming savored his brief sense of victory and happiness.
*
Clatter, clatter.
With the sound of horse hooves hitting the ground, the carriage wheels turned ceaselessly.
In a corner of the driver’s seat, the Tin Knight asked Sophia, who was deftly moving her pen and diligently writing something despite the rattling and shaking of her seat.
[The ‘Tin Knight’ is curious about what you are writing so earnestly!]
“Oh, this? I’m writing down and organizing our journey, the information we’ve gathered, and things like that.”
The Tin Knight tilted his head.
[The ‘Tin Knight’ asks if you really need to take notes, since you rarely forget anything, Sophia!]
“Information is meaningless if you just keep it to yourself. I held back before because we couldn’t afford to increase our luggage, but there’s no need for that anymore.”
Sophia’s physical abilities were weak. She couldn’t properly carry a heavy bag, so even if she created records, she would have to store them elsewhere. She couldn’t ask Adel or the Tin Knight to carry them for her.
Leaving them in the carriage wasn’t an option either, as the Tin Knight’s party had a habit of using carriages as consumables, whether by choice or by force, making them unreliable for storage.
But now, with the ‘Gloves of Haider,’ she could store and carry small items, so she no longer had to refrain from creating luggage.
Of course, since putting things in and taking them out consumed mana, she couldn’t overdo it, but Dorothea wouldn’t be so picky about a few books.
The Tin Knight watched Sophia with an excited air as she ceaselessly wrote in the thick book.
She was using a pen that converted mana into ink, the only item Sophia had requested from among the Witch of the West’s many treasures.
Despite her posture, which could hardly be called stable, and the incredible speed at which she wrote, Sophia’s handwriting was remarkably neat and beautiful.
However, it was not a script the Tin Knight could read.
Suddenly, the Tin Knight felt a spark of curiosity.
[The ‘Tin Knight’ asks if you have any interest in learning a new language!]
“A new language? Yes, of course, if you’ll teach me.”
Her reply was immediate, without a second of hesitation.
Tired of just driving the horses from the coachman’s box, the Tin Knight began his role as an impromptu instructor.
“Hmm? Is this a script based on the structure of the human body? How interesting.”
Sophia’s learning speed was astonishingly fast.
While the Tin Knight simply communicated through the brooch’s translation effect unconsciously, she was able to trace his few words back to the very roots of the language.
Even considering that the brooch could convey the Tin Knight’s will itself, her progress was exceptional.
Pronunciation, grammar, the subtle nuances in translation—all the elements that would normally be obstacles to learning a new language were dismantled in an instant. Eventually, she even began to grasp parts the Tin Knight hadn’t taught her.
In less than half a day, lines of text that the Tin Knight could read began to pour out.
[—And so, having succeeded in subjugating the Witch of the West, the party moved toward a new destination. They had three main objectives: to replenish the resources consumed and recover from the fatigue of the last battle, to obtain the ‘golem in the form of a horse’ mentioned by Franka Aglaia, and finally, for Adelaide von Lennart to take her third dojo test. Fortunately, there was a city in the Locria Federation suitable for accomplishing all three goals at once.]
[‘The lion’s left hind leg,’ ‘One of the ten pillars supporting the federation,’ ‘A place ruled by the most sophisticated yet barbaric laws.’]
[The City of Scales, Justitia. That was the party’s new destination.]