Chapter 16: Bonyard (3)
Chapter 16: Bonyard (3)
Meanwhile, Eugene—the man they had been discussing—stood outside a tavern with his heart pounding. The sign read 'Undine Tavern'.
Gulp.
Having drunk nothing but swill that tasted like gutter water in backwater villages for so long, he had been craving a proper beer.
-In Bonyard, they chill beer with the cold water running through the canals. It tastes fantastic, too. You have to try it when you arrive. I recommend the Undine Tavern.
It was the shop Beard had recommended before they parted ways.
-Undine? Why that name?
-That tavern gets the coldest canal water, so its beer is the coldest.
-Aha! Good tip. Thanks.
Eugene opened the door eagerly and found a spacious hall beyond it.
Unlike Kingdom's End, which had been steeped in the weariness of hard days, this place rang constantly with conversation and laughter.
On one side, traveling merchants discussed their wares with serious faces; on the other, mercenaries cursed their former employers. A female bard in a headscarf tuning the strings of her lyre added to the atmosphere.
"Is this what adventure is?"
He admired the atmosphere as he ordered, and two mugs of beer with clear foam were brought out.
'The foam here is white, huh? In Kingdom's End it was brown. The smell is really nice too.'
Homi must have been looking forward to it just as much. The tail resting on her lap twitched like a freshly caught mullet.
"Alright, cheers!"
Clunk.
The knight and squire clinked their wooden mugs and drank together.
"!!!"
Eugene blinked.
It was bitter yet nutty, the foam was soft and cold! It was the first proper beer he had tasted since arriving in this world.
"This is decent. Much better than I thought..."
Gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp!
Beside him, Homi, her eyes wide, held her mug with both hands and downed a good third of it.
"Ahhh!"
Then she let out a hearty cry of satisfaction.
"Even if you can't speak, I'm glad you can still show how impressed you are."
Unlike Eugene, who remembered far better liquor, Homi was tasting proper beer for the first time in her life.
Homi beamed. The beer itself was good, but what truly delighted her was adventuring with her master and experiencing one new thing after another.
Unfortunately, the good atmosphere did not last long.
"Hey, missy!"
A boisterous male voice came from behind them.
Two men in chainmail with swords at their waists stopped in front of the bard as she tuned her lyre.
"Play us a tune."
One of them flicked his thumb, and two copper coins fell onto the table.
"Thank you, sirs."
The bard swept her hand over the table, and the coins vanished as if by magic.
"What song shall I sing for you?"
"Go on, guess. What do you think we want from you?"
The man grinned, revealing long fangs between his lips. His ears were the same length as a human's, so he was probably a dhampir.
When he flipped his cloak aside, a family crest was revealed.
The upper half showed a vivid red rose dripping blood from its petals; below it, a thorn-covered stem coiled around a naked man as though squeezing him dry.
"You are knights of the Piranyan family. I understand."
The bard identified the family from the crest alone. Her profession demanded knowledge not only of songs and assorted performance tricks, but of noble heraldry as well.
Performing sometimes brought her into contact with nobles, and a song praising their family's glory could earn an extra tip.
Conversely, singing a song honoring the family's disgrace or their sworn enemy might get her hand chopped off.
Pling.
The bard held her lyre in a tense posture.
Piranyan was a noble family of Barsia. Just as the crest suggested, from the lord down to his vassals, they were notorious for their cruelty.
"A woman with a full belly said,"
The bard began her song.
"Please do not kill me, my lord.
"There is a baby in my womb."
The lyrics were unpleasant from the very beginning.
"Then the Lord of Piranyan laughed.
"Why would I bite you now?
"Your baby has not yet ripened."
At the disturbing lyrics and gloomy tone, everyone in the tavern furrowed their brows.
It was a song commemorating Piranyan's extermination of the Nightfall family, their mortal enemies.
The pregnant woman in the lyrics was the lord's wife, the last survivor at the time.
No one knew what had become of her afterward. The Piranyan family claimed they had sent her away to a distant monastery, but no one believed it.
"Splendid."
"Not bad for a frontier bard. I'm impressed you even know this song."
When the song ended a moment later, the dhampir knights applauded.
"Thank you, sirs."
The bard bowed her head until it nearly touched the table.
"W-well, I'll be going now."
As she tried to hurry out, her wrist was seized.
"Hey now! Sing another."
Jingle.
Another copper coin fell.
"Good sir, my throat is sore and I need some rest..."
The bard spoke cautiously.
"What? Your throat is ticklish?"
"Shall we scratch it for you? I guarantee you, it only stings for a moment and then it'll quickly feel good."
When the dhampirs bared their fangs, the tavern did not merely quiet down—it practically froze.
"I will sing!"
The bard hurriedly sat back down and gripped her lyre with trembling hands while the knights' snickering laughter rained down on her.
Everyone hated what was happening, but fear of the knights' swords kept them silent.
Eugene sighed.
"I suppose it's up to me to step in."
However, Eugene, who had been about to rise, had to awkwardly sit back down. A man was already standing before the dhampir knights.
He had an unusual look, as though he were of mixed Latin and Asian descent: a handsome man with messy black hair hanging in seaweed-like strands and strangely attractive dark circles under his eyes.
He wore dark leather armor and carried a rapier and a main-gauche at his waist. He held his beer mug in his hand.
"You want to request a song too? We were here first, so go somewhere else."
The dhampir knight said.
"I came because I wanted to cancel the request."
"What?"
"The song is too awful. This place is known for its beer, but listening to a shitty song makes it taste like shit."
The dhampir knight looked dumbfounded.
"I can't stand seeing good beer wasted on a Samur monkey either. Put down that beer and get lost."
His comrade beside him mimicked a monkey and sneered.
Samur was a country in the south, a harsh land where deserts and jungles coexisted.
Yet with seas to the east and south and a desert trade route running southwest, Samur enjoyed brisk trade.
The dates traded in Bonyard also came from Samur.
"It's just as strange for you Barsia bastards to come all the way down here. You're unwelcome intruders wherever you go, so what did you crawl in here hoping to scavenge?"
Instead of answering, the dhampirs scrutinized the Samurian man's appearance.
Since he wore only leather armor while they were clad in metal, they looked at him with open scorn.
"How did you even get here? A beggar like you wouldn't have a horse, so a donkey?"
"Donkeys are great. We have to ride horses around and visit a brothel when we get lonely, but you Samur bastards can take care of yourselves right there on the spot."
The Samurian walked up to the sneering dhampirs.
In that instant, his demeanor changed as if his previously relaxed attitude had been a lie. A sharp, ready atmosphere where he could draw his sword instantly! Although they were thugs, knights were knights after all.
But they were two against one, and whether out of pride, they didn't rise from their seats.
"You guys have short ears, don't you."
"..."
"..."
One thing you never did in front of a dhampir was mention the length of their ears. It was their greatest insecurity.
"You know why I came all the way to Bonyard? On an expensive horse?"
The Samurian drained his beer to the dregs. As the wooden mug tipped higher, their gazes met over its rim.
'If it were me, I'd be worried about getting ambushed while drinking and wouldn't be able to swallow properly.'
Eugene marveled at his guts.
"I came to earn money. I was promised a huge sum just for swinging my sword around a few times here."
He placed the empty beer mug on the table.
"But once I arrived, I found something else I liked. I heard there were some Barsia bloodsuckers who came to the city for the same reason as me. They're guys I wanted to beat up anyway, so how nice is it that they came all the way from the northwest to get thrashed here?"
"You insolent—!"
Both dhampir knights drew their swords simultaneously.
But the Samurian was faster. He kicked the armrest of the chair the farther dhampir was sitting on.
Crash!
The chair tipped over, and its occupant sprawled onto the floor.
The dhampir right in front stood, but he was too close to have space to swing his sword.
As he stepped back, a shoe somehow wedged itself at his ankle like a tripping stone.
Tap.
"Whoa!"
The Samurian grabbed the arm of the dhampir who was losing his balance and falling. It was the arm holding the sword.
Slash!
"Aaaagh!"
The main-gauche flashed like lightning past his wrist, blood poured out, and the longsword fell to the ground.
"You son of a bitch!"
The dhampir knight who had fallen with the chair shot up but had to stop.
"Be careful."
Because the blade of the main-gauche was resting on his friend's slashed wrist.
"That was only a shallow cut. But if I slash him properly one more time, this guy might die. Even if he somehow survives, he'll be crippled for life."
"Ghhhh..."
The dhampir knight couldn't charge at the sight of his friend in agony. The bard and the other patrons had fled long ago, and the innkeeper was nowhere to be seen.
"If I had my way, I'd kill you outright, but I'm an invited guest too, so I suppose I have to hold back. It would be awkward for a guest to commit murder on his first day. Though I'm not sure swatting a mosquito counts as murder."
The Samurian shoved the man he was holding as if throwing him away.
"Ian!"
The uninjured knight frantically caught his friend.
"Take him and get lost."
"You'll regret this!"
The dhampir knight hurried away to get his friend treated before he lost any more blood.
"We didn't even have a moment to step in, did we?"
Homi nodded.
"Hey, swordsman."
But the situation wasn't over yet.
"You mean me?"
"Yeah. You—the cowardly knight cowering there despite your size."
Eugene stopped Homi, who had bristled and was about to rise.
"You're not wearing armor, but anyone can see you're a knight. You were really going to sit there and put up with that? And you call yourself a knight?"
"I wasn't trying to just stand by. I was about to step in, but you beat me to it."
"Anyone can say that."
Eugene looked at the Samurian's face.
"Still pissed because you didn't get to kill that bastard earlier?"
"Sharp instincts for a coward."
"Then what can I do to ease your anger?"
"Well, I've seen enough blood for today."
The Samurian wiped the blood from his blade with a piece of bread from the table, sheathed it, then held up a clenched fist toward Eugene.
"Let's settle this with one hit."
"This isn't Samur."
Knighthood ceremonies differed by region, and in many places the initiation included a beating.
Among them, Samur, along with Gord, was a famously tough place, and there were knights who fainted during their investiture.
"This is the best way to remind you of forgotten chivalry. If you ask me, the reason you northern knights aren't very knightly is because you don't get hit enough."
The Samurian grinned, spinning his fist around.
"One hit and we're done?"
Eugene asked.
"Yeah. One hit, and I'll forget the whole thing."
"Got it."
Bang!
Eugene kicked off the floor.
"What?"
Despite the distance between them, Eugene's explosive leg strength closed the gap in an instant.
The Samurian reflexively threw a punch, but Eugene easily caught it. What followed was an over-the-shoulder throw executed with monstrous strength.
Whoosh!
The Samurian felt the world spin once as he was slammed into the ground.
BOOM!
"Urgh!"
The impact was overwhelming. His breath caught as every bit of air was blasted from his lungs. His vision flashed yellow, and his consciousness plunged.
After confirming that Homi had placed the payment for the beer on the bar, Eugene headed for the exit.
The Samurian, floundering on the floor, tried to grab Eugene, but he couldn't control his body at all.
Thud.
In the end, he collapsed without a word and lost consciousness.
Homi, who had followed with quick steps, grabbed him and tossed him into a corner.
Crash!
"Hmph!"
Homi dusted off her hands as she walked out.
It was a pitiful end for a righteous knight who had looked so overwhelmingly impressive only moments earlier.
Two days later, Sorin came to the inn.
"Sir! The preparations to receive you in the city are complete. Would you please come with me?"
"I've been waiting. Let's go."
Eugene was guided to a mansion where the city's honored guests stayed. The inn he was staying at now wasn't bad, but this place was on another level.
Every passing maid was a beauty in fine clothes, and expensive artworks lined the corridors.
In the garden, a man with an impressive mustache was trimming a tree with pruning shears. Every guest room was fit even for a noble.
"You will be meeting Chief Magistrate Panis."
"He's the one who invited me, right?"
"That is correct."
A large brown door with the natural grain of the wood still visible came into view. A nameplate on it read 'Chief Magistrate Panis'.
"It's here."
Just as Sorin was about to knock, a pleading voice came from beyond the door.
"Sir Karas! Those were knights we had difficulty recruiting!"
It was Panis's voice.
"Their personalities were trash and their skills were trash. They were just taking up space, and even if you sent them out to fight, they wouldn't have been any help. All their thuggery does is make innocent townspeople miserable."
Eugene heard a strangely familiar voice. From the flow of the conversation, it seemed to be Karas.