The Count’s Knights (2)
The Count’s Knights (2)
As she stepped out of the office into the lord’s manor corridor, Illea chuckled.
“They seemed pretty flustered, those knights just now.”
Johan nodded.
“Of course they were. It was probably the first time in their lives they’d been treated like that.”
Just earlier, Johan had ignored the knights from House Staviana.
He hadn’t even spared them a glance.
It was a blatant show of disregard.
A bastard child of a minor noble family had trampled on the highest authority in the kingdom.
Naturally, the knights were bewildered.
Illea said,
“They must’ve taken a serious blow to their pride. I bet they’ll come running after us.”
Johan smirked and looked back.
“You were right.”
The two knights came bursting out of the office. One of them still hadn’t removed his visor.
“Wait!”
He marched toward Johan as if stomping on the ground, stopping in front of him.
Johan spoke with a blank expression.
“I believe I said I was busy?”
“I’ll say it again. We were sent by Count Staviana.”
The eagle crest on the knight’s chest gleamed.
“Then I take it that every action you take reflects the Count’s will?”
Through the narrow slit of the visor, their eyes met.
The moment their gazes locked, the knight’s imposing air began to fade.
“W-Well…”
The Eye of the Great Saint in Johan's head was stirring strange emotions in the knight.
“You barged into a noble’s office with your weapon at your side, and you haven’t even disarmed while speaking. Are you saying this discourtesy—no, this thuggery—is all on the Count’s orders?”
His tone was calm but relentless. The knight couldn’t say a word in return.
Johan added with a flat expression,
“If the Count isn’t looking to start a war… then I’m afraid your conduct is hard to explain.”
Even if House Staviana was the most powerful noble house in the kingdom, the Miyatro family was still a prestigious lineage.
Both sides were expected to observe at least basic decorum.
This knight had crossed that line. His actions were likely done under the Count’s silent approval.
‘Just like in the original story.’
They gauged others by flexing authority—Count Staviana’s modus operandi.
It might seem childish, but it was undeniably effective.
In fact, in the original story, under the Count’s pressure, Grian eventually ceded his succession rights to his younger brother Krill.
Knowing how things played out, Johan had no interest in playing along with cheap tricks.
And when he made his displeasure clear, the knight dropped his aggressive posture.
Johan was a man on whom Staviana’s authority didn’t work.
Naturally, the Count had countermeasures for people like that.
“Allow me to apologize on Campbell’s behalf.”
The other knight stepped forward and bowed to Johan. He had removed his visor and disarmed.
“And you are?”
“My name is Myra Beriel. I serve House Staviana.”
He looked to be in his mid-thirties, a knight with a tall, upright demeanor.
“I’m Johan Miyatro.”
“I’ve heard many stories about you, Sir Johan. And it seems they were true—you’re quite formidable. I heard you responded to the Order’s call and traveled all the way to the southwestern quarantine zone? Truly a model noble. To think we’ve shown such disrespect to someone like you… I apologize again.”
The "southwestern quarantine zone" referred to the location where Kaiaze had manifested. It hadn’t even been days since the seal was lifted, yet the information had already reached the Count.
As expected, the Count’s eyes and ears spanned the entire kingdom, and Johan was under their watch.
‘…I’ll need to be careful from now on.’
That creeping sense of pressure crawled over him.
The knight had likely mentioned the quarantine zone just to apply that pressure.
Johan said,
“No need for an apology. Just state your business.”
“If you could spare a little time. It might be a long conversation.”
“Unfortunately, I’m busy at the moment.”
Johan had no intention of accommodating their rudeness.
They weren’t invited guests; they hadn’t even sent word ahead. They were simply uninvited intruders.
And as the master of this house, Johan had every right to turn them away.
“…Is that so? Then we’ll wait until your business is concluded.”
Clicking his tongue, Johan looked over at Gaf.
Gaf stood leaning against the office door, face unreadable.
“Gaf, guide the guests to the reception room. I’ll visit them when I’m finished.”
Gaf nodded.
“As you command.”
Frankly, Johan wanted to throw them out. But he couldn’t.
Even if Staviana crossed the line, Miyatro had to stay within it.
Such was the logic of power.
Honor and justice were ultimately just empty decorations.
‘I still need to hear what they came for.’
Why send two knights?
Right now, it was hard to guess the Count’s intention.
Knight Myra spoke.
“Take your time. We’ll wait patiently.”
“I’ll see you later, then.”
Johan turned and headed for the underground library.
***
Around the round table in the center of the underground library, Johan, Illea, and Raguel sat facing each other.
Johan spoke.
“First time we’ve come down here together.”
“It is. You must be a bit disappointed.”
“Why?”
“You could’ve had it all to yourself—every treasure and relic sealed away in the Forbidden Archive.”
“I always intended to share it with you.”
As long as Illea existed, Johan could never monopolize the Forbidden Archive.
A witch’s obsession with the unknown was akin to a living creature’s survival instinct.
As long as she lived, that obsession would never fade.
All Johan had wanted was to delay the moment of sharing for as long as possible.
That wish was now meaningless.
Since Illea had found the Archive on her own, Johan had neither grounds to stop her nor reason to resent it.
“If that’s true, I’m touched. You must really want me at your side until the end. You even said so once, didn’t you?”
She smiled teasingly.
“I did?”
“I’ll be hurt if you don’t remember. You said it right here, you know.”
Johan did remember, actually—but for some reason, he didn’t want to admit it.
“Well, since you’re useful, I suppose I might’ve said something like that.”
“Useful? That’s harsh. I’m not an object, you know.”
Her eyes drooped theatrically, pretending to be hurt.
Raguel, who had been quietly listening, spoke up gently.
“You two have gotten quite close, haven’t you? I remember when you first met, it was all talk of killing and not killing. Ha ha…”
He hadn’t forgotten their first encounter.
Thinly veiled threats, barbed sarcasm, and calculating smiles.
Only tension had existed between the demon and the witch back then.
Now, that sharp tension had almost completely vanished.
Illea smiled and said,
“Good thing we didn’t fall out that day. You won’t find anyone more stimulating than Johan—not in the whole world. I can’t believe I almost closed off that well of infinite potential with my own hands.”
Almost everything about Johan was shrouded in the unknown.
To a witch, that was a magnetic force bordering on obsession.
Johan gave a dry laugh.
“You chided me for treating you like an object, yet you’re treating me the same way.”
“Can’t be helped. I’m a witch, remember? My heart’s pounding right now. I might get to peel back another layer of mystery today.”
They planned to descend to the Forbidden Archive soon and attempt to interact with the crack above Johan’s head.
What could be lying within that dark void?
Illea’s eyes sparkled with curiosity.
“Another layer of mystery, huh…”
Johan murmured.
He too was deeply curious about his own identity. Perhaps, upon touching the crack, he could grab hold of at least a single thread of truth. That faint hope lingered.
As his mood grew heavier, Illea gently asked,
“…Did what I said bother you? You don’t need to be. I’m genuinely fond of you, Johan. As you are.”
Johan frowned slightly.
“What are you talking about all of a sudden?”
“You just seemed… a bit upset.”
“Based on what?”
He had merely been thinking.
“Then never mind.”
Johan found it hard to play along with her games.
The air turned a little awkward.
Raguel awkwardly laughed.
“W-Well, in any case, we’re heading down into the Forbidden Archive, right?”
Johan nodded.
“Right. I’ll leave it to you, Raguel.”
As usual, Raguel lightly bit his index finger.
He smeared the blood across his palm, then pressed his entire hand to the center of the round table.
Biometric verification. A proof of his Miyatro bloodline.
The table ignited with white light.
Johan and Illea quickly stepped onto it.
And the ground began to tremble.
The table dropped straight down—descending deeper underground.
***
A massive hall unfolded before them.
Rows of Holy Relics lined up in perfect order, emitting ceaseless waves of divine power.
Had he been in demonic form, this would have been agonizing.
But now, it meant nothing—Johan was human.
On the other hand, Illea didn’t look good. Her eyes trembled, and her lips turned an icy blue.
She was suffering from the overwhelming divine energy.
A rare moment of weakness.
“Here. Borrow this.”
Johan handed her Kazan’s Corrupted Ring.
She weakly stretched out a hand.
“Put it on me.”
Johan stared at her, dumbfounded.
“Do it yourself.”
“I don’t have the strength.”
“How’d you manage last time, then…?”
She had once come down here alone and retrieved the original of the Cursed Scripture, Volume 1.
“Hurry… It’s too much…”
Clicking his tongue, Johan hesitated for a moment, then sighed and slid the ring onto her index finger.
Only then did her color return.
She looked satisfied as she fiddled with the ring.
“Now hurry and get the item.”
To interact with the crack, Johan had to perceive it first.
But with his current magical skill, even catching a fragment of a higher dimension was beyond him.
He needed a tool to briefly break that wall.
Illea had found a solution here in the Archive.
“Alright. Just wait a moment.”
The item was classified not as a Holy Relic, but as a treasure.
Some treasures were inherently dangerous and were treated very differently from relics.
The Archive had a separate Treasure Vault for such things.
Johan couldn’t enter the higher vaults.
He could lose his ego—or his life—to some unknown treasure.
But that didn’t apply to Illea.
At her current level, she could access up to Grade-4 vaults. Anything higher might still be too much, even for her.
Fortunately, the item they needed was in the Grade-5 vault.
At the far end of the hall, one of the white doors among the lined vaults briefly opened and shut.
Soon, Illea returned, holding a small pair of gold-rimmed external goggles.
Even Johan, who had read the original story, found the item unfamiliar.
Illea approached and said,
“It’s the Telescope of Greedy Desire. It shows objects or phenomena beyond the wearer’s current capacity to perceive.”
“You actually managed to find something like this?”
“I saw it during my last visit. The Archive has everything, really.”
“So I just put it on?”
“Before that—please listen carefully. Normally, if a sentient being faces something vastly beyond its comprehension, it can’t maintain its ego. Once you perceive the crack through this, your mind might collapse.”
Johan was already aware of such mechanics.
“I was fine even in front of Apostle Beris and Kaiaze. I doubt this crack will do anything worse.”
“That’s why I’m suggesting this method. But you should still remember—back then, you were in your demonic form.”
“My soul is the same.”
“Yes. A being’s value is usually measured by the caliber of its soul.”
“Then there’s nothing more to say.”
“…Still, just in case, you should use a mental protection spell.”
But magic couldn’t be used inside the Archive.
Unspecified Holy Relics that reacted to mana or miasma might attack them.
Johan nodded.
The three of them returned to the underground study.
***
Once everything was ready, Johan put on the goggles.
The density of the world he saw changed completely.