How to Live as a Wandering Knight – Chapter 310

𝐏𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐝 (5)

The witch, who had returned rather unhurriedly, was puzzled at the sight of the crowd gathered around the tent. She parted her lips, her voice slightly hoarse.

“You’re still not gone? This is a marvel. Why didn’t you send them away? You should know better than to leave a person of honor standing outside.”

“How dare you say something like th—”

The beastmen glared at her, gritting their teeth. Were they saying this, knowing how much their hearts sank because of her just now?

“I clearly sent someone, so why did you go out?”

“I heard that a precious herb had blossomed.”

“For a mere weed?!”

“A mere weed, you say. You, who always rush to me whenever you need help, have no idea how I wield my abilities. How am I supposed to cast magic if I don’t gather those herbs? Even though you people can’t bring them to me.”

“Even so, there’s a time and place for everything! His Highness the Duke is waiting. . . If this becomes a bigger issue, a single head won’t be enough to pay for it. Anyway, go inside quickly!”

“Oh, come on. . . Don’t push me. Aren’t you rushing an old woman too much?”

“Even rushing you now is not enough! What if His Highness falls into a rage?”

“I’ve lived long enough to not have any regrets?”

The faces of the younger beastman flushed red at the witch’s words. The witch, seeing that, chuckled wickedly.

“That’s why you should have treated the elderly a bit better.”

“That’s right.”

Johan, who was standing behind, nodded in agreement. Suetlg didn’t say anything, but he looked pleased. It was nice to see a tradition where any race knows to treat the elderly within their tribe with respect.

Some barbarians abandon their elders in the mountains and let birds peck at their entrails, but that is an act that deserves divine punishment. . .

“Your, Your Highness. The person you were looking for is here.”

“I know because I heard it. Even if you urge an older person, you are urging him too much. Let them wait a little.”

“Oh. Yes. . .”

Johan helped the witch in person. The witch looked at the young duke with a surprised look. It was quite rare to see a noble of high rank act like this.

“Your Highness  is. . . too kind?”

“There are handful of wizards around, so I’m just showing them the respect they deserve.”

At those words, the witch looked at Suetlg and asked.

“Oh, is that person already in poor health and needs help walking?”

“. . . . . .”

Seeing Suetlg raising her eyebrows, Caenerna whispered from the side.

“I think you know that you have to put up with it?”

“. . .Let’s not talk about it separately.”

The witch, after entering the tent, tried to entertain the party in person. The inside of the tent was filled with a peculiar smell. It seemed to be a mixture of the smell of burning herbs, as well as the smell of frankincense and myrrh.

And the wizards were very interested in the mysterious aura permeating the tent. The witch was also surprised by the fact that all those who had entered the tent were wizards.

“Today, people of high status and nobility have come as guests to an old witch like me, against all odds. Right. What did you come to say?”

“They said you are an excellent artisan. Can you perhaps restore this crown?”

Before a deep discussion about magic began, Johan spoke about his main topic. If the wizards started talking, it would be difficult for Johan to interject.

The witch took the crown and began to examine it carefully and skillfully. The witch put the crown down with an indifferent expression.

‘𝘐 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘴 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵.’

Johan was a little disappointed. He had been somewhat expecting, thanks to what the fairy had said.

“May I ask where you obtained this item?”

“Hmm. . .”

Johan stopped as he was about to speak. He was about to say that he had received it from a fairy, but even to him, it felt. . . ridiculous.

Wouldn’t that sound like something a lying minstrel would say?

“Why can’t you speak?”

Suetlg wondered. He had a look of incomprehension on his face.

“Saying that I got it from a fairy is a bit. . . unbecoming. . .”

“What nonsense are you talking about? You received it from a fairy.”

The witch was not surprised.

“It’s not surprising since fairies often possess old treasures. Even though time and dust erase memories and graves, fairies forget nothing. . .”

“So what kind of item is it?”

Suetlg asked, getting impatient. Suetlg was also curious about what the crown was.

Could it be the crown of a barbaric king who had once ruled this area?

Or could it hold a more complicated story within?

At that question, the witch smiled wickedly.

“I see now, Wizard. It seems you have little interest in religion. You may know a lot about the history of kings and nobles, but you don’t know much about religion?”

Johan defended him instead.

“There’s no need to know everything. And you, artisan. You’d better be careful with your words. I can forgive your impudence towards me with leniency, but I will not forgive your impudence towards the philosophers who serve under me.”

“I. . . I apologize, Your Highness . I’ve become more ill-tempered as I’ve gotten older. . . Anyway, if you knew even a little bit about religion, you would have realized right away that this crown is not the crown of a king or a noble. This is the crown of a saint buried in a Holy Land tomb.”

“. . . . . .!!”

At the witch’s words, which were spoken so nonchalantly about something so shocking, the people present thought for a moment that it was nothing special.

But it wasn’t.

“What nonsense! The crown of a saint is currently held by the family that protects the Holy Land. Hasn’t it been passed down from generation to generation?”

The family that had occupied the Holy Land called themselves the protectors of the Holy Land instead of kings or counts. It was a kind of religious title and designation, but the power that name held was far stronger than that of an average king.

And one of the treasures symbolizing this protector of the Holy Land was the crown of the saint.

It is true that the family was wiped out not long ago when they were occupied by pagans, but since they had occupied the Holy Land until then, wouldn’t that family have the crown?

At Suetlg’s words, the witch nodded.

“This old witch also thought until just now that the protector of the Holy Land had this crown, but when you live in the world for a long time, things like this happen. What was right becomes wrong, and white becomes black.”

“. . . . . .”

Johan nodded as he heard those words. In fact, such things were surprisingly common.

Just as a family that lost its famous sword, the symbol of the family, prepared a fake sword for reasons of respect, the family that had gained the title of protector of the Holy Land might have lost the crown and prepared a fake crown.

Who would dare point that out?

“. . . . . .”

When Caenerna put on a look of deep thought, Johan asked curiously.

“Caenerna-gong. What do you think?”

“Oh. . . Your Highness .”

Caenerna’s husky voice dropped even lower, becoming so soft that only Johan could hear it.

“I was thinking that we should kill the witch, Your Excellency. . .”

“. . . . . .”

Johan flinched, realizing what Caenerna meant. Iselia shook her head as if she didn’t want to do that.

“Should we cut down a person who is innocent and unarmed?”

“But Bluea-nim, the crown of the saint is worth it.”

The crown of the saint was an item whose power as a symbol was far stronger than its own power.

Especially since it was now in the hands of a devout feudal lord who had come from the far west, the people of the world could not help but interpret it as an omen and a revelation.

However, the expeditionary force now consisted not only of Johan’s expeditionary force, but also of several other powerful feudal lords of the empire. Would they like it if they heard such rumors?

Caenerna didn’t think so. Caenerna’s eyes, which were filled with malice, turned cold.

She was not the kind of person who wanted to play the villain. However, unlike the emperor’s court, Johan’s court lacked people who would take on such evil deeds.

Johan was a deep-thinking man, but by Caenerna’s standards, Johan was a good person. He did not employ very harsh tactics.

“Caenerna-gong.”

“?”

“You don’t have to suggest it forcibly when you don’t feel like it. Thank you for the suggestion.”

At Johan’s words, Caenerna looked taken aback. She hadn’t thought that the young duke would notice. Her face turned as red as her hair. There was nothing as shameful as having your true intentions seen through when you were acting like a villain and devising a scheme.

“???”

Iselia tilted her head, not understanding the conversation between the two.

“My dear. . . Why. . .?”

“Shhh. She doesn’t seem to be feeling well.”

“Oh. Since a wizard is frail. . . You should support her.”

“Bluea-nim. You don’t have to do that. . .”

“No. Wizards lack muscle and must have accumulated fatigue during the journey.”

Iselia was stubborn in this regard. Caenerna hated it very much, but Johan supported Caenerna. She was so thin that she fit right in his arms.

The witch, who had been crushing herbs, asked slowly as if the conversation was over.

“You’re not going to kill this old witch?”

“That’s right.”

“Your Highness is truly young.”

Johan understood what she meant and smiled wryly. He must have meant that he was still young and hadn’t tasted enough spice.

But Johan didn’t think so.

“It’s not a matter of being young or old. Even if I was twice my age, I wouldn’t have done that.”

“If rumors spread. . .?”

“If rumors spread, I will confront them head-on. I don’t want to repay kindness with enmity and kill an innocent person to hide a secret.”

Johan spoke forcefully as if he would no longer indulge in mean tricks, and opened the door of the tent. Instantly, the hot sunlight streaming down outside the tent enveloped Johan’s back like a halo.

The witch avoided his gaze, feeling overwhelmed.

“Why is that? Is something wrong?”

“No. . . It’s nothing. Your Highness . If you leave it to me, I will do my best to restore it in return for sparing this old witch’s life.”

“I will ask for your help.”

🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸

‘𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘋𝘶𝘬𝘦 𝘠𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘴 𝘪𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘳𝘺. 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘰𝘭𝘱𝘩 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳.’

Ulrike, who was defending a different fiefdom and heading south from a little further north than Johan, was experiencing the most terrible moment of this expedition.

It was so terrible that she thought elf king Angoldolph would be better.

“Ulrike-gong! A letter from His Highness the Duke!”

It would have been better if it was Duke Yeats, but sadly, it was a letter from Duke Bronquia.

Duke Bronquia.

A great feudal lord in the northeast of the empire, and a noble who once belonged to the emperor’s faction. . . but in fact, it was a bit ambiguous. If you look back through history, the two families were rivals more often.

When the emperor was alive, even Duke Bronquia dared not confront him and submitted, but now it was the opposite.

The emperor was dead and the emperor’s family suffered a major blow. It was only natural that the Duke Bronquia would become arrogant.

In a way, it was like a foregone conclusion that Duke Bronquia would participate in the expedition to the Holy Land for greater authority and glory.

The problem was that this Duke Bronquia was disgustingly greedy. 

Someone who’s about as good as a duke was, behaving like an apprentice knight rolling on the ground, determined to pick up even a single merit. From Ulrike’s perspective, it was maddening.

How did he even get this old. . .

“Should we move separately?”

“. . .Even if he is unlucky, we are not the enemy. Let’s endure it.”

The knights noticed some blood seeping into Ulrike’s tightly clenched fist. They could guess how enraged their lord had become.

“Scouts have discovered Tahkreng Castle!”

“Finally!”

“Duke Bronquia said he would go in first. . .”

“Ignore him.”

Ulrike answered readily. Now that the long journey was over, there was no need to cater to that duke’s whims anymore.

🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸

“Let’s advance, Duke!”

‘𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨?’

Johan had to do his best to hide his trembling expression. Duke Bronquia, who had an impressive mustache, insisted on advancing as soon as they met and exchanged greetings.

For Johan, who was shrewdly calculating when to retreat, he was an unwelcome guest.

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