How to Live as a Wandering Knight – Chapter 191

𝐍𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐥 (9)

‘𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦. . ., 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺 𝘣*𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴?’

Johan looked at the centaurs with bewildered eyes. But the centaurs had their own excuses.  

All the nobles who participated in the hunt led their own troops. Aside from Johan, the centaurs couldn’t order them around.

Of course, even if they could, they probably didn’t want to!

With a short shout, another clash occurred. The nobles and centaurs charged into formation.  

At this point, there wasn’t much Johan could do. He could only hope none of those damn nobles got killed or taken hostage.

“Count! I will help you!”

“. . . . . .”

Contrary to Johan’s worries, the nobles were not that weak.

Just being on horseback and properly armored already scored them high points. The foot soldiers simply could not recklessly charge them.  

Also, Johan had already wrecked havoc once before. The soldiers around were too busy avoiding Johan, pushing and trampling over each other. The nobles who arrived later did not receive much attacks.

The escorts who followed the nobles also knew they must protect the surroundings at all cost, so there was not as much to worry about as Johan had thought.

‘𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦.’  

Johan turned his gaze forward again. Separate from his worries about the nobles, the support had arrived at an opportune time. The enemies who were trying to regain their bearings from the shock were now completely rattled.

“Block them! Buy time!”  

“Don’t let them get through!”

The enemies shouted in a mix of Eastern and Vynashchtym languages, with strong accents. Johan was puzzled that the enemies were not trying to retreat.  

If they were typical mercenaries, they should have retreated by now. The current situation was beyond their expectations.   

Yet they persisted despite being relentlessly hammered from behind?


At some point, instead of the fleeing mercenaries, others came charging in, shield and spears held high. Johan realized there were others mixed among the mercenaries. Even in this situation, they encouraged their allies and held their ground instead of retreating. . .?  

“Kill them! You must kill them!”  

There was only one objective. Johan turned his gaze forward again. The raiders were now eyeing the bear tribe in an even more vicious manner than before. They must have realized time was running out.  

The bloodlust was so intense it pierced through the chaos of the battlefield and reached Johan.  

‘𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘶𝘥𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨!’

Still, Johan could not leave things as they were. He had to save the envoys now that he was here. Johan shouted at the nobles beside him.

“𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦!”  

“Understood, Count! You can trust me!”  

The noble responded passionately to Johan’s heated shout. The heat of the battlefield must have set his fat veins ablaze as well. By responding to Johan’s yell, he was like a commander from the old tales of history.   

Of course, Johan was referring to the soldiers led by the nobles, not the nobles themselves. They had to charge forward together for Johan to have free rein.

“Follow me! I swear on the blood of dragons, I will make sure none of those gathered here die!”

“Should we just leave that guy alone?”  

“Don’t let him die.”

The centaurs grumbled complaints from behind. A short arrow glinted as it flew, striking down a mercenary up front. It slipped right through a gap in the well-fitted armor.  

While the nobles were not up to par, their subordinates were certainly decent. Useless during the hunt, this formation battle was different. Even the centaurs were amazed by their skill at pushing back a well-armed opponent.   

Johan may be a knight born with monstrous strength, capable of crumbling formations single-handedly, but normal people could not do the same. When facing those clad and armed in armor, battles tended to drag out.   

However, the nobles’ subordinates parried blades and shifted their balance, before slipping their swords into gaps in the armor.   

The former actor-turned-prosecutors, whom Johan had shown mercy, were especially eye-catching. Their sword wielding skill was truly splendid. The mercenaries who blocked their way spewed blood as they collapsed.  

Thanks to them, Johan was able to approach much more smoothly. Over half of the bear tribe were already injured and bleeding. Johan’s heart grew urgent.


“You cowardly, dishonorable sons of b*tches! May the curse of the gods be upon you and your offspring and their offspring!”

Hurik shouted in a furious voice. He was now angry at the dishonor of his opponents.  

The attackers were a clan that had been enemies with his clan for generations. They had fought each other in civil wars many times and eventually the opponents lost their fiefdom and were driven out.

The small kingdoms outside Vynashchtym had adopted the faith and culture but still had many rough and barbaric traits. Even the Holy Empire that the people of Vynashchtym looked down upon was the epitome of sophistication compared to those small kingdoms.  

As a result, the civil wars were like washing blood with more blood. Both sides had so much blood debt to pay back that it was hard to keep count.

The problem was that they were trying to collect that debt through this surprise attack!

If they had come honorably and requested a duel, Hurik would have gladly accepted it. But these cowards chose to ambush them on the road to Vynashchtym like a band of rogues.

“Aren’t you ashamed, you sons of b*tches! Say something!”

Instead of answering, the raiders brandished their swords. They intended to speak with their blades rather than their mouths since they had little to say anyway.

Hurik himself was an excellent warrior and there were several skilled fighters among the envoys. But they were taken by surprise and outnumbered. At this rate. . .

“Fall back, I won’t pursue if you fall back!”


Hurik stopped swinging his battleaxe in surprise. A knight had suddenly charged out from behind them into a reckless attack.

‘𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦?’

He was grateful for the help, but this was not a situation where a wandering knight could just recklessly charge in out of outrage. It would be one thing if only he died, but. . .

Hurik expected the knight to be taken down after felling some six opponents or so. 

‘. . .?!?!’

But the unbelievable happened. As the knight let out a war cry and swung his weapon, those seasoned mercenaries began to crumble.

His strikes were so powerful that the mercenaries toppled over one after another regardless of whether they were hit on the helmet or a vital spot.

Without realizing it, Hurik cheered for the mysterious knight. There was something about him single-handedly pushing back the enemy in a frenzy that stirred a warrior’s heart.

And soon, reinforcements arrived from Vynashchtym. Only then did Hurik realize who they were. His pride was hurt but he was relieved.  

“You cowardly b*stards!”

But things flowed differently from what he expected. The raiders whom he thought would flee were now rushing in with bloodshot eyes.

If we’re going to die anyway, let’s take down one more with us!

“Hurik, I will cut off your head and offer it at your clan’s altar!”  

“Oh yeah! Come and get it, you son of a b*tch! My neck is right here!”

The enemy clan’s knight, Norga, came into view. He was an opponent Hurik had crossed weapons with several times. His skills were so outstanding that Hurik had never bested him. 

Especially skilled with the mace, once he started attacking, one would have bones shattered or broken before they could get away.

But Hurik did not fear him despite the dire situation.

Even if I die today and go to the spirits, I will take this b*stard down with me!


But there was interference. Norga turned his head at the scream coming from behind. The mysterious knight had arrived right in front of them somehow after fighting through all those soldiers.

With eyes shooting sparks, Norga charged forward. When he swung his mace with that bulk of his, there was a ominous sound.


Like a puppet with its strings cut, Norga went flying limply to the side. He looked like a man hit by a horse. The exchange was so quick that the soldier next to them just blinked, not comprehending what just happened.


Hurik was the only one who saw it and forgot his wounds and fatigue to admire what happened. To batter the charging Norga and send him flying to the side. . . This knight was no ordinary one.

And Norga was only the beginning. After dealing with him, Johan swung his sword instead of using his mount. The glint of the blade flashed and blood sprayed. Even the soldiers barely holding on seemed to lose heart here.

“Run! It’s over!”  

“Even Norga-nim is dead! Retreat!”

The enemies began fleeing one by one. Only then could Johan let down his guard a little. The bear warriors who were fighting fell down. Some of them were so drunk from the heat that they didn’t even recognize Johan and tried to attack him.

“Stop! They’re not the en. . .” 


Johan blocked his opponent’s strike and smashed his gauntleted fist onto the armor. His opponent collapsed despite the thick armor.

“. . . . . .”

Seeing this, Hurik’s jaws dropped open.


The envoys from the recently returned duchy held a banquet to express their gratitude despite the many injured. Hurik, with bandages wrapped all over his body, raised a cup of wine. 

“Count. I have never seen a warrior like you in my life! Not even the spirits have seen one like that. To be able to fight like that! Damn the spirits!”

“Um, uh. . . Hurik-nim. Please allow me to relay the message on your behalf.”  

The interpreter next to him spoke with a nervous expression on his face. Hurik had insisted on speaking for himself despite his thick Vynashchtym accent and lack of etiquette and customs.  

The proud Vynashchtym people despised such a sight. The nobles sitting at the other tables were already frowning.

“You can understand well enough, no problem.”  

“The count doesn’t mind. Now piss off!”  

Hurik pushed the interpreter aside. He seemed even more irritated after Johan said it was fine.

“Did you bathe in the Spirits’ Fountain? Or did you slay a monster and gain its power?”

“No. I was just born this way.”

“Born this way?! You’ve been blessed! Damn blessed! My cousin happens to have a daughter, are you thinking of sowing your seed?”

“Not really.”

“Then you don’t have children? I don’t need to be first! I just want that powerful bloodline of yours, Count!”  

The offended nobles interjected. This was why they disliked these barbarians.  

“Such rude words are unacceptable, Hurik-gong. Even if you represent the duchy.”

“Can’t even say this much! While you oily city folk comfortably live, me and my men split heads open across the borderlands!”  

The duchy people were proud of what they did for Vynashchtym. Who else would pick up arms and fight if not them?

Though they would normally be ignored for being dirty and vulgar, this time the nobles had something to say.

“And who saved that great warrior this time?”

“. . . . . .”

Hurik seemed to be struck speechless. The nobles excitedly pressed on. That violent, barbaric man was difficult to deal with normally. Now was a good opportunity.  

“Who saved you? Hmm? Hurik-gong?”

“. . .You all saved me.”

“Speak up. Hurik-gong!”

“Thank you, damn it! Didn’t I say thanks already!”  

Hurik grew irritated. He couldn’t deny receiving their aid but admitting he needed help from these slick fellows made his blood boil.

“It was only natural for us to help, don’t make too much of it.”  

Johan stepped in to mediate. Even the nobles couldn’t refute Johan’s words. With the nobles quieted, Hurik shouted as if he had the right idea.

“Right! If the Count hadn’t stepped in, you b*stards wouldn’t have come either! When you think about it, you should all be thanking the Count!”

“Wha, what insolence. . . Count! Say something to put him in his place!”

“Count. No need to consider those men. Speak freely!”

“. . . . . .”  

With nonsense coming at him from both sides, even Johan’s resilient eardrums were nearing their limit. He made an effort not to lose his patience.  

The centaurs looked at Johan nervously. 

‘𝘏𝘦’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘸 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘴𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦?’

It was like children from rival tribes childishly arguing over who was on their side.

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