How to Live as a Wandering Knight

Johan was speechless at the sight of the elf king, who claimed to have heard the whisperings of his heart.

How could he argue with a heart’s whisperings?

“I see. . .”

In fact, Johan realized that he didn’t need to convince the elf king of his innocence. The elf king wasn’t suspicious of Johan, but rather the pagans far to the east.

Johan couldn’t care less if the elf king spent his nights worrying about the pagans to the east.

“Your Majesty, you may have a point.”

“Finally, the count listens to reason!”

The elf king rejoiced like a boy. He had been frustrated by Johan’s resistance.

“The count is too lenient. However, there are times when one must show the ferocity of a beast. Otherwise, these vermin will continue to swarm.”

“???”

Suetlg, who stood nearby, and Gerdolf, who was escorting Suetlg, were puzzled.

‘𝘓𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵. . .𝘮𝘦?’

Of course, Johan was known to be quite lenient among the feudal lords, but it didn’t seem like the elf king was referring to that.

“Let me execute that man personally, as a lesson to those plotting against you.”

“If you wish.”

Johan readily yielded. There were nobles who relished the opportunity to personally behead someone, but Johan wasn’t particularly obsessed with such things. He saw no reason to get emotional over every single assassin.

The elf king nodded with delight at the offer to oversee an execution in someone else’s fiefdom. This gesture alone spoke volumes about the trust they had in each other.

“I’ll execute the men from the North as well.”

“No, that won’t do.”

Johan drew the line.

He didn’t care how the assassins were executed, but the moment he started killing knights from the North, Johan knew he would be creating a new and bitter grudge.

Cardirian had already shown what could happen when one swung their sword indiscriminately.

Johan had no desire to become another one of those fools.

‘𝘞𝘦’𝘷𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘳.’

“But. . . those men tried to kill the count! Surely there are others involved!”

The elf king protested, his voice filled with indignation. It wasn’t that the elf king was ignorant of the political situation. He meant to sort out right from wrong, even with that in mind.

What was there to fear, even if the Northmen hurled insults and curses?

If one had a clear conscience, that was enough.

However, Johan would rather let the Northmen nurse their grudge than search for potential conspirators who might not even exist.

He knew better than anyone that such favors, though often overlooked due to their intangible nature, would eventually be returned.

The elf king tried to sway Johan’s decision by weaving fabrications and slanders about the various underhanded tactics employed by the northern knights, but he could not change Johan’s mind once it was set.

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The northern knights were escorted to their tents, stripped of their weapons, armor, and horses, but their spirits were low. Anyone with a head on their shoulders could tell what their current situation was, even if they didn’t use their helmets as makeshift pillows.

The first to make a move was the masked knight. The masked knight removed his helmet, aware of the gazes upon him.

“Biorarn-gong!”

The northern knights were shocked when Cardirian’s third son revealed himself.

They had guessed that he was not a knight from an ordinary family, but they hadn’t expected him to be the emperor’s son.

It made sense for Biorarn of the Visalfurk family to conceal his lineage. Given the emperor’s recent acts of blasphemy, he could have chosen to participate anonymously in order to atone for his family’s sins.

Under normal circumstances, they would have shown respect and camaraderie to someone of noble blood, but. . .

“. . .”

“. . .”

The atmosphere was tense and silent. The northern knights exchanged glances, realizing they shared similar thoughts.

‘𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴. . . 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘫𝘰𝘣?’

Ordinarily, as fellow knights from the North, it was a matter of knightly honor to trust their comrade until he confessed, even if he had indeed hired assassins.

However, this time it was different. It was too much of a coincidence that Cardirian’s son had participated while concealing his identity.

He couldn’t be unaware of everyone’s thoughts. Biorarn spoke, growling like a wounded beast.

“I swear on my honor as a knight and a member of my family that I had absolutely no part in this cowardly plot!”

“. . . . . .”

Sometimes, silence could be more insulting than any rebuttal. Biorarn seized the nearest knight by the collar.

“Speak your mind, man!”

“Let go of me! Your Excellency, do you think this behavior is honorable?”

“You lot ganged up on the count, and you dare to speak of honor?!”

“It’s better than a knight who hides his face and lineage!”

Someone shouted. Biorarn’s eyes turned bloodshot with fury.

“Come out! Who said that!”

But the more he reacted this way, the worse the situation became. The northern knights looked at Biorarn with eyes full of bewilderment and suspicion. Even the knights who respected Biorarn’s honor were pressured by the atmosphere and couldn’t speak up.

“Gentlemen. . .should we return later if you’re in the middle of a discussion?”

The slave in charge of delivering messages, Geoffrey, asked curiously, sensing the tense atmosphere inside.

The murderous tension was such that it felt like a duel was about to break out.

“No. Have you a message from His Excellency Count?”

“Yes.”

“Speak. I shall listen.”

“His Excellency Count respects your honor. He wishes you to know that he regrets this situation.”

“I understand.”

This was a customary statement. It was common to express regret no matter who was being executed or imprisoned. Even Cardirian had expressed regret before beheading the feudal lords.

“His Excellency Count apologizes for the abrupt end to the honorable tournament.”

“I see.”

“Now that the message has been delivered, you may return to your barracks.”

“. . .????”

One of the knights stood up in bewilderment.

“Why is that?”

“A. . . Are we really allowed to leave?”

“Do you. . . have anything else to say?”

“Shouldn’t we find the mastermind behind the assassination attempt?”

Geoffrey looked at the knight with disbelief. To put it bluntly, his gaze seemed to say, ‘𝘠𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘕𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩, 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘩𝘶𝘵? 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥?’

It was as if the rat was expressing concern for the cat, and the knight, realizing this, turned red in the face.

“We found the mastermind. The assassin confessed.”

“Who is it?!”

“He said it was a pagan from the east.”

“. . . . . .”

“Did someone else hire him. . .?”

“Enough. Please.”

One of the older knights silenced the knight who was about to ask a tactless question. There was nothing good that could come from prying further.

If the count showed mercy and let them go, they would leave gratefully. If they foolishly insisted, ‘𝘕𝘰, 𝘸𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘵,’ even the count would be baffled.

They weren’t asking to be killed together. . .

“Please convey our gratitude to His Excellency Count.”

“Yes, I shall.”

As Geoffrey left, the tension in the tent dissipated like a loosened string. Several knights let out sighs of relief. Things had been resolved much more peacefully than they had expected.

“Did someone else hire him? Have you ever seen such a fool of a knight? What did you think you would accomplish by asking that?”

“My apologies, Your Excellency.”

“Don’t be so harsh. Sir, didn’t it turn out well?”

“If not for the count’s generosity, many would have died.”

The knights, who had been engaged in a friendly conversation, suddenly felt someone’s gaze and looked up.

Biorarn was glaring at them like a predator.

“. . . . . .”

The atmosphere had calmed down somewhat, but none of the knights stepped forward to apologize to Biorarn. The knights hadn’t completely let go of their suspicions in the first place.

“Then I shall take my leave.”

“I too. . .”

As the knights turned to leave, a few who were close to Biorarn patted him on the shoulder in consolation. Biorarn hung his head in humiliation.

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Although the tournament had ended somewhat ambiguously, the banquet was held as promised. The crowd that had gathered to watch quickly forgot their troubles and became drunk, chanting Johan’s name.

The mountains of food and the rivers of alcohol were enough to satisfy the excited spectators.

While feasts were held all over the vast tournament grounds, a special banquet was held in the center for those who had distinguished themselves. Knights who had performed exceptionally well and knights from renowned families were in attendance.

The elf king kept glancing at Biorarn, his eyebrows furrowed. It was obvious that he was looking at Biorarn after every sip of wine.

“Your Majesty.”

“. . .I said nothing.”

“How about you praise the outstanding knights?”

Only after Johan said this did the elf king look away. The knights whose eyes met his bowed their heads respectfully. The elf king was a terrible lord, but he was a splendid knight.

“However. . . there’s no one worthy of praise. . .”

“. . .What are you talking about?”

Johan was shocked to realize that the elf king was being serious. Come on, really?

“Look, count. They didn’t exactly cover themselves in glory during the tournament.”

“Leave those men out of it. Didn’t Biorarn-gong act quite honorably?”

“That suspicious man?! I should have him interrogated, honestly!”

“That’s water under the bridge.”

The knights who were attending the banquet were intrigued by the whispered conversation between Johan and the elf king. They were quite curious about what the two were talking about.

“I am honored to be here, Your Excellency Count. I have participated in many tournaments, but none have been as joyous and honorable as this one.”

An old knight from the North said, and the other knights nodded in agreement.

As the saying goes, one good turn deserves another. If Johan had shown mercy, the northern knights had to offer at least a polite toast.

The elf king muttered under his breath, ’𝘊𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴. . .’ but fortunately, it was too noisy and far away to be heard.

“Thank you, sir.”

“May His Excellency Count be blessed by God!”

“May His Excellency Count be blessed by God!”

After the cheerful toasts, a tipsy noble stood up. Johan was about to take a sip of wine when he recognized the man’s face and paused. It was the Castellan of Vipen, famous for his sermons.

‘𝘏𝘦 𝘐𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦?’

However, Johan didn’t mind if the knights were annoyed by a sermon.

In fact, it was rather amusing.

Johan didn’t stop him and let him continue.

“Everyone! I am here today to denounce the atrocities of the pagans!”

“. . .?”

The knights turned their heads at the unexpectedly passionate sermon. Encouraged by the attention, the castellan continued his speech with vigor.

“You are all aware of the recent events. The pagans dared to seize all of His Excellency Count’s ships and confiscate his wealth!”

The knights, already quite drunk, shouted curses in excitement. Johan was slightly surprised that the fact that one of his merchant ships had been detained had been so greatly exaggerated and spread.

‘𝘕𝘰. . . 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘺?’

Why on earth?

“If that was all, they could simply be dismissed as greedy vermin. But they even sent assassins. What does this mean?”

“Damn them!”

“Yes! Damn them! May God curse them!”

‘. . .𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘵𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥.’

Contrary to his expectations, the sermon was progressing enjoyably. This wasn’t so bad either. After all, the visiting knights would be able to return home having been treated very hospitably.

“. . .I swear!”

One of the knights jumped up from his seat and overturned a table. He was clearly drunk.

“What do you swear?”

“I swear on my family and my honor that I will punish the cowards of the East and make them kneel before me. Thus shall I clear my name of suspicion and restore my honor! By fulfilling this sacred oath, I shall reclaim my family’s faith!”

The knight who had shouted was Biorarn. The northern knights seemed genuinely impressed by his words.

“I apologize for my rudeness, Your Excellency! I too shall swear an oath. I will bring forth the cowards of the East who sent the assassins!”