“No matter how much I ask around and investigate, the Count of Jekyllid’s troops won’t exceed a few hundred at best. And that’s if I’m being really generous.” 

A few hundred poorly armed infantry and knights scraped together rather than well-equipped heavy infantry.  

In contrast, Johan alone had well over a thousand heavy infantry. And that was just his personal mercenary forces.  

“That is correct.”  

“Then what the hell was the count believing when he did this nonsense? That’s the one thing I can’t understand.”

“. . .”

Stumped by the sharp question, Ahir was lost for words.  

Indeed, Ahir could not understand it either.  

Just what was he believing to act like this? Even if all his vassals led their armies to help, it would still be difficult. . .

🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸

As the story was ending, Ahir praised Johan’s mastery of Eastern language. It had improved considerably. It was thanks to Ahir’s children who taught him directly. 

“With that level of fluency in the Empire, you would certainly be recognized as a noble.”

Accent was also important among the nobles in the Asman Empire of the East. Nobles had their own distinct accents.  

Ahir was very surprised that Johan had picked it up so quickly. Although he was an outstanding knight, learning a language was a different matter altogether.

‘𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘚𝘶𝘦𝘵𝘭𝘨-𝘯𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦.’ 

━𝐄𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐮𝐞𝐭𝐥𝐠. 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐦𝐞𝐭 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐠𝐨𝐝. . .

Johan confessed to Suetlg about what had happened at the pagan temple. Suetlg nodded in agreement. 

━𝐈𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

━𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐭?

━𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.

━𝐇𝐮𝐡?

━𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬? 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞? 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲. . . 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐨. . .

━𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭.

━𝐎𝐡, 𝐬𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝. 𝐍𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐮𝐩𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮.”

━𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭.

━𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞. 𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐬, 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐬.

━𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲?

━𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐬, 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞, 𝐠𝐨 𝐚𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦.

Even Elder Suetlg could not pinpoint exactly what blessing the goddess had given Johan. Johan could only feel it intuitively.  

When he focused his eyes, his vision would strengthen. When he focused on a wound, it would heal quickly. When he focused on a language, he could learn it swiftly. . .

An unidentifiable vitality circulating through his veins, assisting Johan. To define it, it was the blessing of vitality.  

‘𝘐’𝘮 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘯𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨.’

“I’ve learned some Eastern profanity. It would be nice if I could use it on the count.”

“What rude fool taught His Excellency things like that?”

Ahir was flabbergasted. There’s no way his children would teach the Count such profanity without going insane.

🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸

𝔞𝙬𝐞𝙗s𝐭𝕠ʀ𝚒𝘦s.𝐜𝕠𝙢

“Greetings, Count Yeats! I’ve heard about you from the head of the Balpa family. It’s truly an honor to be able to repay your kindness like this!”

The dwarf artisan expert summoned by the clergy, Volandrunt, arrived at the fief with his apprentices.  

“You heard that from the Balpa Head? How embarrassing.” 

“No, the grace shown to the Balpa family will be repaid collectively by us dwarves.”

Volandrunt had the typical face of an artisan, gruff and diligent. Johan took an immediate liking to this dwarf.

“Take a look at this sword.”

“Oh my. . . For such an outstanding sword to break. That cyclops’ strength must have been absurd.”

“Hmm.”  

Johan nodded. After all, the cyclops had also grabbed <𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭>, so it could have been partly responsible for the sword breaking as well.

“A silver sword broken by a monster. It must have been an incredible beast! Hey! Come take a look, everyone. Proof that the Count here struck down a wicked monster.”

The apprentices came over and exclaimed in admiration. If the cyclops had monstrous strength, enough to break a fine silver sword like this, it was news to them.  

“. . .Ahem. Can it be fixed?”

“It won’t be as good as before, but I can melt it down and remake it.”

“Please do.”

Volandrunt spoke with humility, but also confidence. Johan showed him the newly acquired <𝐆𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫>. Volandrunt was amazed, then slightly flustered.  

“What’s the matter? Is there some issue with the weapon?”

“Oh, uh, it’s nothing, Count. Just a trivial thing.”

“Volandrunt. I respect your skills as an artisan. Just as I cultivate martial arts before God, you have cultivated your craft. Why would I not carefully heed the words of someone like you? Don’t hide anything, speak your mind.”  

Volandrunt was so moved by Johan’s words that tears welled up in his aged eyes. Most nobles did not take this kind of attitude.  

Usually nobles would say things like, ‘𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵,’ ‘𝘠𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘱𝘪𝘭𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘐 𝘨𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵,’  or ‘𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥, 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘦.’

“. . .The truth is, this weapon has no issues at all. Our ancestors’ techniques were far superior. They even made weapons out of meteoric iron. So a weapon like this won’t be damaged. . . However. . .”

“However?”

“This weapon is, from my dwarven perspective, something that was made but found to be unusable after it was finished. . . So I suspect it was discarded instead of destroyed. . .”

A weapon made to kill giants but when finished, it was found to be too blunt and heavy for dwarves to actually use. That was the <𝐆𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫>.   

“. . .How could you tell?”  

“Weapons made to be gifted usually have the name of the receiving family inscribed. . . The lack of any such inscription means it likely had. . . flaws. . . according to our customs. . .”

Johan was at a loss for words. It was unexpectedly a rather shoddy weapon after all.  

“But Your Excellency can truly wield such a weapon?”

Having set aside his cautious attitude, Volandrunt looked upon Johan with great curiosity, inevitable for a craftsman.