How to Live as a Wandering Knight – Chapter 98.2

From a distance, a tall knight could be seen swinging a battle axe, chopping off the head of a mercenary who looked up carelessly. It was Brünhilde.

‘𝘐𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦.’

Johan was relieved. If the entrance wasn’t breached, those inside would be safe. The mercenaries were as good as cornered.

“Spare my life and I’ll reward you!”

“What nonsense. . . Kill him!”

There was another unlucky person outside, caught in trouble like Johan. Even with mercenaries rolling their eyes menacingly with weapons in hand, he shouted confidently. He was quite the madman.

‘𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘳𝘤 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘈𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺!’

Even in this tense moment, Johan’s body moved naturally. At that moment, Brünhilde from the back of the corridor saw mercenaries flying in all directions.

“. . .𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯?”

The shortsword was already broken, and Johan entered, beating up mercenaries with his fists. The orc screamed and exclaimed.

“God damn it, God!”

“Have you converted?”

“If it’s a demon, take the souls of those other guys! My soul is worthless!”

“Stop talking nonsense and stick close!”

Johan swung his fist and smashed the head of an approaching guy. Only then did the orc seem to realize that Johan was a human.

“Johan of the Yeats family?”

𝐒𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐚𝐤!

“I’ve heard a lot of rumors, but you’re really amazing. . .”

𝐓𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐩!

“. . . . . .”

𝐒𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐚𝐤! 𝐓𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐩! 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤!

Is he a knight or a butcher?

Johan was violence incarnate in human form.

Some of the mercenaries in the hallway, terrified, took their own lives. The lack of spears and crossbows was so regrettable.

Johan threw a sword and pierced the neck of the rushing defense captain. He didn’t even know it was the defense captain.

Holding two masterless weapons in his hands, Johan stopped. Covered in blood, the mercenary captains in the hall involuntarily shouted.

“Sir Knight! Sir Knight! We are allies! Please stop!”

“I am sane.”

“T-That’s good.”

No matter how you looked at it, holding the weapons, it was clear they thought Johan was crazy. Johan cracked his neck and asked.

“What about the guy who went inside?”

“There’s. . . none.”

“Good. Go out and call the soldiers.”

Although there was a servant nearby, the mercenary captain didn’t think to send them and hurriedly ran out.

“Milord, I can go. . .”

🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸      

After roughly wiping off the blood-soaked cloth turned inside out, Johan looked at the shivering magistrate beside him and asked, 

“When did you collude with them?”

“. . .!!!”

“Those guys didn’t just fall from the sky. They must have come out of a passage somewhere around here. And you must have known about it.”

Repiata showed no change in expression despite such commotion. For Johan, it was rather convenient. It would have been troublesome in various ways if he had cried and clung to him in fear.

“I. . . I didn’t know! I was locked up and couldn’t meet anyone, how could I have colluded!”

The magistrate cried out in a voice full of injustice. It was sincere. He had never thought the defense captain would do such a thing.

“May I interrogate him?”

“As long as you don’t kill him, it’s fine.”

As Johan put his hand on his shoulder, the magistrate screamed.

“I really don’t know anything! I swear to God! I just didn’t think of the passage! Please spare me! If you spare me, I will devote my body and soul in loyalty to you!”

“. . .I just put my hand on you.”

Johan was embarrassed enough to remove his hand as the man broke down like this. It didn’t seem like the man was lying.

“Shall we move to another location for now?”

Repiata shook his head.

‘𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘮 𝘰𝘳 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴.’

“Right now. . .”

“?”

“. . .I think it’s safe.”

“You’re talking quite a bit today, aren’t you?”

At Johan’s joke, Repiata smiled slightly. Johan, seeing Repiata smile for the first time, was puzzled. Repiata gestured for Johan to come closer.

“Please ask about the Slovak Kingdom.”

“Understood.”

Johan approached the magistrate. The magistrate desperately shouted that he had some contact with the Slovak Kingdom but was not that close and really had nothing to do with it.

“No one would say anything if we cut off an arm or leg of that b*stard!”

The returning mercenary captains shouted fiercely. It was natural for them to be discontented, having almost died just coming for a meal.

It was good to control the city using the magistrate, but managing the dissatisfaction of his subordinates was also an important task for Johan. Johan looked at Repiata. Repiata slightly shook his head.

“I asked, and it seems he has nothing to do with it.”

“How do you know that!”

“I told you, I asked, didn’t I?”

“. . .Now that I hear it, it does seem that way.”

“Thanks for understanding.”

Johan patted the shoulder of the understanding mercenary captain. The mercenary captain nodded his head, his face frozen with fear.

🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸      

The commotion at the mansion made the people of the city even more fearful. It was not surprising that hundreds could have been massacred if things went wrong.

However, Repiata showed leniency instead of capturing and hanging the people.

“Normally, I should have finished preparations quickly and left for the town, but we’ve been causing trouble for each other.”

Johan looked down at the bound assassin, hands and feet tied, while Karamaf glared menacingly, baring his teeth.

“But just as your business is important, so is mine. I can’t just leave an assassin who lurked around me alone.”

“Then kill me if you will.”

The assassin’s face had changed into one not seen before, neither a maid nor a servant. It seemed they had changed their appearance.

The assassin remained silent, head bowed. A captured assassin meant summary execution. Even if beheaded in a single stroke, no one could protest.

Johan checked small bottles sealed with cork stoppers. They appeared to be deadly poison. Karamaf had detected a slight odor emanating from them.

“If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it right there.”

“Wasn’t that what you intended?”

The assassin retorted with a look that questioned how beating them and not intending to kill could make sense.

“I’ve encountered assassins from <Venom of Nessus> before. You guys aren’t so secretive, are you?”

“You think the guild strictly keeps the client’s secrets? What a joke. Assassins have no loyalty. They stay silent because they know speaking up means death. Give them assurance of life, and they’ll talk readily.”

Venom of Nessus was somewhat overhyped. This was partly inflated intentionally by the assassins affiliated with it, to attract commissions from influential people.

But Venom of Nessus was merely an organization made up of selfish assassins.

There were a few rules, but the guild members trusted themselves more than these rules. The guild was held together not by rules but by its cell-like structure.

The assassin remained silent. Johan demonstrated a simple technique, and a dagger appeared out of nowhere, astonishing the assassin.

How?

‘𝘈𝘩, 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘯. 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘵.’

Johan realized that there was no need for fisticuffs in the melee at the mansion. He had a hidden weapon at his waist.

“Now do you believe I’ve encountered assassins before? I owe someone a favor and want to repay it. This is your last chance. Will you confess and seek forgiveness, or choose death? I won’t ask again.”

“. . .I will speak.”

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