How to Live as a Wandering Knight – Chapter 88.2

𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭 (𝟕)

“That’s how it came to be, Your Grace Duke.”

Johan’s accusation was met with a look of surprise and understanding from Duke, who nodded.

‘𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨.’

Achladda grumbled inwardly. Even in this situation, the Duke showed no change in expression. He had expected at least some panic or anger. . .

However, contrary to Achladda’s thoughts, the Duke was truly astonished.

How dare someone commit such fraud at his event!

It was unclear whether it was audacity, fearlessness, or sheer madness.

Boriska was rather fortunate. He died at the hands of a monster.

Had he returned alive, he would have been paraded through the city on horseback, naked, before heading to the gallows.

“Why didn’t you spread this truth? The people outside think Sir Boriska died honorably.”

“It’s Your Grace’s event, and as an outsider who came from afar, how could I dare to judge and punish? It’s rightfully within Your Grace’s authority.”

‘𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘚𝘪𝘳 𝘒𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭.’

Achladda thought so. There were two types of flattery: one ineffective when known and the other effective even when known. The current situation was the latter.

The Duke nodded his head.

With those words, Duke greatly elevated his opinion of Johan.

‘Remarkable. To have such a knight. . .’

It was surprising that, in addition to bravery in battle, such a young knight could make political considerations.

Another young knight would have beheaded Boriska, mounted his head on a spear, and paraded around shouting.

Envious!

Those who held positions and worked around the Duke were either from lower noble families with long ties to the Brduhe family or from noble families that needed political consideration.

Though an outsider with none of these connections, the Duke wanted to entrust Johan with a position.

It was greed for his capabilities, but. . .

More than anything, he was curious.

As a feudal lord who had governed people for a long time, he was curious about the extent of this young knight’s skill he had rashly judged.

Having made his decision, Duke stood up. He had a look of deep emotion, with tears glistening in his eyes.

“Sir Johan. Thank you. I’m grateful!”

He embraced Johan heartily. It wasn’t a special calculation but a habit formed over a long time.

Subordinates are deeply moved by a single tear and commit their lives.

Why not use this method, much cheaper and more effective than gold or silver coins?

‘𝘏𝘦𝘩.’

Achladda had to bite his lip to suppress laughter. Johan’s expression was too indifferent. Sir Knight was indeed a never-tiring companion.

After the embrace, Duke held Johan’s shoulder and said,

“Your sincerity in considering the honor and dignity of Brduhe has moved me deeply. I sincerely thank you.”

“You flatter me too much.”

“State your wish.”

Johan did not miss the inquisitive sparkle in Duke’s eyes. It wasn’t surprising. He was a person who continuously evaluated and judged others.

‘𝘐𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦.’

“I have a request.”

“What is it?”

“I hope you show mercy to the knights and mercenaries who were with Sir Boriska.”

“. . . . . .”

The Duke was impressed. Not gold or weapons, but mercy.

Considering the insight Johan showed, it was clear that the decision was not out of pure goodwill, but for political considerations.

‘𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴?’

However, one thing was incomprehensible. It was understandable to ask for clemency for the knights, but why for the mercenaries?

They were not a remarkable band of mercenaries, just insignificant ones that could be picked up anywhere. There was no benefit in keeping them alive.

The Duke was slightly conflicted.

He wanted to ask, but there was the dignity of being Duke. In the end, the Duke refrained and nodded.

“If I don’t listen to you despite you saying so, Brduhe’s name would be shamed. Don’t worry. I will show mercy. I’ll let the knights know who saved them. Do you desire anything else beyond such a selfless request?”

“Yes. It would be troublesome to receive more for doing what was rightfully expected.”

“And you?”

“The same for me, Duke. I have already enjoyed more honor than I deserve.”

Achladda quickly responded.

Even if the Duke handled the matter quietly, the Petreo family couldn’t escape punishment. They would have to pay a substantial compensation to the Duke, which would ultimately benefit Duke.

Duke shed tears once again.

“I must be blessed by the gods. To have such honorable knights serving me.”

“No, Duke.”

“No, you flatter me too much.”

The only one unaware of the drama unfolding here was the Duke. He never imagined the two young knights were acting far more coldly than him.

🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸      

“A meal as well?”

“That sounds delicious.”

“. . .No, Sir Knight.”

Achladda said in a flustered voice. Such a reaction there?

“Does it taste bad?”

“No. . . It’s not that. I’m just surprised by the overly generous treatment.”

“Ah. Is that what you meant.”

It was a great honor to have a meal with the Duke, even on a non-special occasion.

That means he thinks highly of you!

“It’s not surprising. Perhaps he’s trying to completely win us over.”

“Win us over?”

“Ah. Don’t you use this expression? It means to be completely charmed.”

Achladda almost teased, ‘𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘚𝘪𝘳 𝘒𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘌𝘶𝘤𝘭𝘺𝘪𝘢?’

But then, he realized it wasn’t something only applicable to Euclyia.

Just like the quiet and reticent Euclyia seemed charmed, other warriors also trusted and followed this knight from outside, as if they had known him for years. Achladda himself included.

It was the same during the hunt. When Johan said to scatter and surround, no one doubted and dispersed.

Meanwhile, the Duke was talking to the Gamekeeper at that time.

The knights who were to return had already started coming back. The Duke had to choose the knight who performed the best in the hunt.

“. . .How was this caught?”

‘𝘋𝘢𝘮𝘯 𝘪𝘵!’

The Duke, looking at the prey, asked an obvious question.

The body of the Werewolf King, without a single injury!

Among the bodies of monsters covered in blood and wounds, the pure white, unscathed werewolf stood out notably.

The Gamekeeper sighed and then knelt down.

“Your Grace, Duke! I apologize for my lack of ability. . . I couldn’t figure it out. I am ashamed before you.”

“It’s alright. I know your skills.”

The Duke, instead, patted the Gamekeeper’s shoulder. The Gamekeeper teared up, moved.

‘𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘎𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘳.’

The Duke thought so internally. He had no personal grudge against the Gamekeeper, but his incompetence was unforgivable.

“The Quartermaster boasted about bringing in good meat last time, so let’s use that. Shall I instruct the chef to showcase his skills?”

Upon the Steward’s words, the Duke nodded. Allowing the chef to show off his skills would naturally lead to conversations. Managing such minor details was also the Steward’s role.

“Call the young Brduhes as well. It would be pitiful to only deal with the ragamuffins.”

“Yes.”

The Steward nodded without showing his feelings. Calling the children as well must mean they really pleased him.


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