How to Live as a Wandering Knight – Chapter 87.2

𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭 (𝟔)

The mercenaries, quicker to catch on than the knights, immediately dropped their weapons as they realized the oddity of the situation.

With Boriska gone and other knights captured, their situation was hopeless. They could do nothing, and they weren’t particularly loyal either. . .

“Who among you is the eastern ranger?”

“It’s this b*stard! This guy, always running his mouth. . .”

The mercenaries dragged out Galambos, whose face was battered from being caught while trying to escape.

Galambos cried out in desperation,

“It’s not my fault! The werewolves went mad. . .!”

Seeing Galambos make excuses, Johan felt a pang of guilt.

None of those present seemed to think that Johan had herded the monster in their direction.

“Shut up, you quack! We nearly died because of you.”

“Be quiet.”

Johan silenced the mercenaries and made Galambos reCount what had happened.

The secret of the eastern ranger was so intriguing that Johan became absorbed, forgetting the situation.

“The werewolf leader seemed too sane to be mad.”

“It’s. . . well. . . it worked on the werewolves, but not on the Werewolf King.”

“Damn this *sshole!”

The mercenaries were infuriated but understood Galambos’ point. Such anomalies were unpredictable.

Galambos thought desperately,

Given the circumstances, he was definitely facing execution.

“I’ll track where the leader went! There are plenty of traces left to follow!”

The mercenaries were astounded. Despite the chaos, he was determined to pursue the werewolf again.

But Johan was intrigued.

While it was tempting to return and accuse Boriska of his crimes before the Duke, capturing a worthy prey seemed more appealing.

“You can track it?”

“I stake my life on it!”

Then, tribal warriors rushed in from a distance. They had come searching when Johan didn’t return. Achladda asked about the chaos at the camp.

“Indeed, Sir Knight. We can’t let the prey escape like this!”

Achladda strongly agreed. The death of a few mercenaries and knights was irrelevant. What mattered was capturing the prey or letting it escape.

🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸      

The people gathered near Baien did not easily disperse. Such feasts were rare, and they were curious about the prey the knights would bring back.

As the knights returned one by one, the crowd cheered and was ecstatic. Among them, there was a knight who returned empty-handed, trudging along. When that happened, jeers were mercilessly poured out.

And when the sun was at its highest, Johan and his party returned.

Initially, people were puzzled by the presence of several knights, but such questions soon disappeared.

The prey among the knights was too impressive.

“It’s a werewolf!”

“A werewolf? Aren’t werewolves not that remarkable?”

“You crazy fellow. . . Knowing how ferocious werewolves are!”

“Ah, but still, the mercenaries who came to our town last time caught one too.”

“How foolish. You can say that because you don’t see it from there. Come out and see! If that’s just a werewolf.”

“It’s the Werewolf King! They caught the Werewolf King!”

Even to the untrained eyes, the werewolf, with its massive size and white fur, looked extraordinary. As soon as someone well-informed opened their mouth, the news spread quickly.

The mercenaries driving the cart with the werewolf’s corpse in the middle were anxious and nervous, even as they received cheers.

“Is this really okay?”

“What else? Run away?”

“Shut up, you fools. Unless you want to be hanged.”

The mercenaries’ anxiety was understandable.

It was a hunt held in honor of the Duke.

A minor deception might be overlooked, but hiring mercenaries was a direct challenge to the Duke’s authority and honor. No noble would overlook such audacity.

If lucky, hanging was the fate, if not, a more terrible death awaited.

Johan promised to spare their lives if they did not show any other intent, but it was hard to believe.

These were men who had lived by betraying others. Even if the opponent was an honorable knight, the thought of ‘what if?’ was inevitable.

Duke Brduhe looked satisfied from atop the castle walls.

“The Alcia tribe has not disappointed me.”

“Indeed, they have not.”

“But fighting alone. . .”

“It’s rare for a knight to find such a worthy prey, but they might meet several while pursuing one. It’s also honorable for knights to join forces to capture it.”

The Duke had anticipated such a gathering. After the Duke said this, no one else brought it up.

“I see the bodies of knights behind.”

“It’s a glorious death.”

Though it might seem strange for people to die at a festive event, in this world, it was natural.

Just as a few unlucky knights did not awaken during the tournament, hunting was the same. Life was trivialized for honor and glory, especially among the knightly class.

Those watching made the sign of the cross, mourning and paying respects to the knight. Duke looked puzzled at the sight of the flags hung.

‘𝘗𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘰’𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘳?’

Death was equal to all. Any knight could fall to a single unlucky arrow.

But Boriska did not seem like a knight who would actively put himself in danger. Wasn’t he a knight who calculated gains and losses while being escorted by other knights?

Moreover, the fact that eastern tribal warriors had retrieved the body was puzzling. They were unlikely allies.

‘𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯?’

🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸      

The first to greet the prey was the Duke’s gamekeeper.

In fact, the job wasn’t much different from that of a regular gamekeeper, but the honor was of a different dimension. It was a prestigious position that only the fortunate lower nobility could hold.

Therefore, the competition was fierce, and one couldn’t last long without sufficient skills. The gamekeeper had to be far more experienced than the average hunter.

“. . .?”

This gamekeeper, with a puzzled expression, rummaged through the body of the werewolf with his hands. There was nothing where there should have been.

There were no wounds on the creature’s body.

It was naturally assumed that it was caught with poison, but there were no traces of poison, nor were there any marks of swords or spears. . .

What exactly was used to catch it?

“May we enter?”

“E-Enter.”

Johan and his party passed through the open city gates and entered the city. It was their first time entering the city, as they had to stay outside during the tournament last time.

‘𝘈 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺.’

It was something he felt even from a distance, but the city, dating back to the ancient Empire era, had an awe-inspiring appearance.

“Did you see the gamekeeper’s face?”

“It’s understandable he’d be confused.”

Achladda burst into laughter. He knew why the gamekeeper was bewildered. Honestly, he would have been surprised too had he seen it.

The laughing Achladda suddenly stopped and asked,

“But why did you collect the body of that guy and bring it back?”

From secretly hiring mercenaries to attempting to disrupt the sacred hunt, such actions were unforgivable. Normally, it would have been enough to leave the body in the fields for the beasts to tear apart.

“It’s mercy.”

“. . .Excuse me???”

“Don’t be so surprised by a joke. I thought it might be useful given the situation.”


Image description Styled Links Random Banner
Advertisement

Comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Options

not work with dark mode
Reset