How to Live as a Wandering Knight

Chapter 227: 𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞 (1)

I had forgotten the traitor.

‘𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘶𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵. . .’

Among the nobles, there were neither eternal enemies nor eternal allies. The feudal lords here now could have joined the emperor faction at any time for whatever reason, and the opposite was also possible.

Moreover, there were many watching eyes around, so anything one did was bound to reach the ears of others to some extent.

‘𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦.’

Still, Johan wanted to identify the traitor beforehand. The more usable cards, the better.

‘𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘌𝘭𝘧 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨’𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺, 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱.’

Even if he found out, given his personality, he would come forward to distinguish right from wrong rather than play tricks. Johan decided to first figure out who the other party was.

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“It really looks great.”

Iselia also nodded as if agreeing with Johan’s words. Johan was someone who often said slick words from his mouth, but the ogre leather armor made by the Arnoos deserved to hear such words.

“Even a ballista wouldn’t be able to pierce through it.”

“But if I get hit by a ballista, won’t I die even if the armor is intact?”

“. . .W-Well, that’s true.”

Johan stroked the armor with his finger. It felt firm as it moved elasticly as if it were alive. It was amazing that such a lightweight and easy to move armor could be so sturdy.

Karamaf growled as he put on the armor over his shirt and leather pants. Johan exuded the aura of a forest bandit chief.

‘𝘐𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭.’

Even when mystical monsters died, their mystique remained. Johan looked at Iselia and said,

“I wish you could wear my armor, Iselia.”

“Are you sure it’s okay?”

Iselia was surprised by Johan’s gift and asked. Even if she couldn’t reach the level of the ogre leather, the armor Johan originally wore was also a tremendous armament.

“Yes. I would be happy if you wear it.”

“My dear. . .”

As they suddenly started intensely staring at each other with lustful mood, the Arnoos became embarrassed.

Should they leave them alone?

“Your excellency, may I start painting your portrait now? I have been longing to paint your excellency’s portrait.”

Originally, painting portraits was a job done for nobles for money, but sometimes it could also be an honor for the painter themselves. When the subject was a knight who had accomplished great feats, it was one of those cases.

“It seems you have high expectations.”

“Yes. We have a superstition that whenever we paint great people on canvas, we become more like their greatness.”

“Then read my fortune first. I’m curious about my fortune.”

“Yo. . .your fortune?”

“Yes. They say you can tell the future by looking at entrails? I want to see the White Tower graduate’s magic once. Those renowned philosophers from the prestigious White Tower.”

Johan’s words were more jest than sincerity. Of course, the White Tower had its own reputation, but it wasn’t a place Johan would praise that much.

Law or theology would be better, but mystical subjects like alchemy or medicine were more likely to be regarded as shady. White Tower itself was a shady place where mostly illegitimate children of nobility entered when examined closely.

However, with Johan praising it like that, the Arnoos could not dare to refuse out of bewilderment.

“Ahem. Then let me tell your fortune first.”

“Thank you. Shall we go take a look?”

Following Johan who was walking ahead of the the Arnoos, Iselia whispered by his side,

“My dear, as far as I know, your departure for the expedition is drawing near. Is it okay? The painting will take quite some time.”

“Well if there’s not enough time, it’ll have to be painted later.”

“. . .I’m not good at reading people but I don’t think they’ll like it too much.”

What Iselia said was true.

After Johan led the elite troops with the Elf King and departed for the expedition, the Arnoos who heard the news belatedly hurried over, grabbed the mercenaries remaining in the camp and made hopeless expressions.

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“Count, Count.”

“Yes?”

“Those elves have piled up silver like a mountain! Isn’t that crazy?!”

One of the centaurs said excitedly to Johan. Johan shook his head and said,

“You probably just saw their weapons plated with silver.”

Hearing Johan’s words, the centaurs had disappointed expressions. Of course they had no intentions of stealing or plundering, but the absence of piles of silver brought an inexplicable feeling of disappointment.

Silver was always the most effective against the undead. It was expensive so they couldn’t use too much, but the more they had the better. And the Elf King had enough wealth to lavishly use silver.

Of course, Johan had no intentions of wastefully using silver for weapons. Johan brought dwarf mercenaries with him. When they discovered a group of undead they would set up camp and systematically take them down.

Would it not be sufficient to clean them up with fire and iron without using silver?

“How were the omens?”

“Bizarre.”

“Elves can be like that.”

Iselia’s ears drooped down. Flustered, Suetlg said,

“I don’t mean that His Majesty said that, it’s just elves have a kind of wild, primitive magic that’s a bit. . . overwhelming.”

The act of plunging one’s hand into an ogre’s entrails and searching for omens covered in blood up to one’s shoulders had a bizarre, maddened quality to it. The Arnoos were completely absorbed in the omens with a madness in their eyes.

‘𝘋𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘸 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰?’

“What did you ask?”

“I asked if we could know who the traitor was.”

“And what did they say?”

“They said the bravest one would be the traitor.”

“. . .Isn’t that me?”

Johan replied in disbelief. The bravest one.

From the people gathered here, Johan would probably be the most cowardly. The elves had no fear in their minds, the centaurs were similarly martial, and the dwarves were quite arrogant and fearless as well. . .

“Who do you think is the bravest among your vassals?”

“Well, bravery isn’t something you can quantify.”

Essentially all the nobles who considered themselves knights were quite brave. Whether it was due to their innate temperament or because they truly believed in their code of chivalry, it was hard to say.

It’s normally impossible for a sane mind to be able to charge towards hundreds of enemies at the front line.

“For now, let’s focus on subjugating the undead.”

“I don’t think there’s much cause for concern. With forces like these we could subjugate things far worse than mere undead.”

With dozens of knights, it was an astounding military power. Suetlg’s lack of worry was understandable.

“And you requested support from the monastery as well.”

“The more help the better, right?”

When dealing with undead like this, paladins from the monasteries demonstrated seasoned expertise. More help was always welcome.

“They don’t normally agree to just come when called by unrelated nobles like you. You sure are popular.”

“It’s thanks to the excellent pious faith I’ve cultivated all this time, no?”

“Don’t spout nonsense.”

But regardless of Suetlg’s grumbling, few doubted Johan’s pious faith. The nearby monastery had readily accepted his request largely thanks to Johan’s reputation.

The place they stopped by was the Maeldal Monastery. The monastery was armed with sturdy stone walls and moats like a small castle. The monks who had been notified in advance happily came out to greet them.

“Please, come inside. Esteemed guests.”

Passing through corridors smelling of herbs and dust, prepared meals were awaiting them inside. The Elf King whispered to Johan,

“Did you have to stay at a monastery like this?”

“I judged this place to be most suitable.”

“If I had known it would be such an impoverished place I wouldn’t have agreed.”

The Elf King stated bluntly.

There were rich monasteries and poor monasteries. And the places the Elf King stayed at were usually quite wealthy monasteries.

A monastery where pheasant and pork dishes are served at every meal, and good quality wine is served, with the abbot dressed in velvet robes.

Compared to that, this Maeldal Monastery was very frugal. The monks only drank plain beer, and ate hard bread and cheese with barely any flavor.

“Well, what can you do. You just have to endure it.”

“Isn’t Count, a knight like you, indignant about receiving this kind of treatment?”

The Elf King couldn’t genuinely understand why Johan was acting like that. To him, he simply couldn’t comprehend Johan’s behavior.

It was a knight’s right to demand treatment befitting their fame and achievements. There was no reason not to pursue that right.

Fortunately, Johan had a convenient excuse prepared.

“God always whispers humility and frugality to me.”

Hearing Johan’s words, the monks who had been looking at the Elf King in dissatisfaction next to him had admiring expressions. That was true faith.

Then the Elf King shook his head with a serious look and said,

“Count, I will tell you out of respect for you, my count. You are being deceived by the priests.”

“. . . . . .”

Johan was impressed by Elf King’s passionate persuasion. Of course the monks wouldn’t stab the Elf King to death for insulting God, but still, wasn’t this a sacred place for those who believed in God to some extent? To commit blasphemy in such a place. . .

“The priests are those who live their lives with the goal of hindering all the joys and pleasures of the world. It’s one thing to torment themselves, but they torment others as well. Of course, passionate faith beats in my heart too. But you only need to open your heart and take it out when you pray, at other times there is no need to take it out

unnecessarily.”

As he spoke, the Elf King raised his wine glass. The flustered monk said,

“Your majesty, it’s not time for prayer yet. . .”

“I’m not trying to drink during prayer.”

“?”

“I’m trying to pray while drinking. So it’s okay to drink.”

‘𝘏𝘶𝘩. 𝘓𝘰𝘨𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭.’

The Elf King made excuses skillfully, as if he had done it more than once or twice. Johan admired it inwardly, but the monks must have sworn inside.

“Don’t be fooled by the priests, Count. They are the ones trying to lure your glory into their white veil.”

The young king spoke earnestly with genuine sincerity. If it wasn’t sincere, such persuasive power would have been hard to convey. Of course, Johan himself was just dumbfounded.

In the first place, who was using whom. . .

“I understand. From now on, I will think it over a few times when the priests speak.”

“That’s exactly what you should do! Damn it, the meat here looks older than my helmet.”

The Elf King spat out the cured meat. It wasn’t just the king. The elf knights had more painful expressions tearing the bread than when their stomachs were stabbed by the enemy.

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“Your excellency.”

“?”

After the dinner that was very painful for the elves, Johan lay embracing Iselia with one arm as he entered the residence. He was puzzled at the sound of knocking on the door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Guyma, the abbot of the monastery. Your excellency. There is a monk who wants to see Your Excellency, so I brought him here.”

Johan had Iselia put down the sword she was holding. No matter what, it would have been rude in front of the abbot.

“If you had something to say, why did you come looking for me like this instead of earlier?”

He had already heard all the information there was to hear from the people of the monastery.

The horde of undead was found in a place that would take several more days to the east, and had not yet affected this Maeldal Monastery.

As soon as daylight breaks, the party will head east towards Pelheim Castle.

Is there more to say here?

“I. . . I. . . swore an oath of secrecy, so I couldn’t say it in front of other people.”

The old monk said with a face strained by tension. Johan offered him liquor to calm him down. Iselia still couldn’t take her eyes off the sword. Karamaf licked Iselia’s palm with the tip of his tongue. It seemed to mean snap out of it.

“Relax and speak comfortably.”

“The castellan of Pel. . . Pel. . .heim Castle knows about the undead plague but is pretending. . . pretending not to know.”

“. . .?”

Johan was not very surprised.

Wealthy feudal lords can hire armies to sweep away the undead, but poor feudal lords have to grit their teeth and endure.

‘𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘵?’

“There is a holy relic in the castle basement to ward off the undead, but he is not using it.”

“!”

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