Chapter 102 - A Place Colder Than the North (1)

The tail end of midwinter.

Joseph had turned the chair he usually sat in toward the window and was looking outside.

Through the window, he could see priests of the church gathered in force at Soara's city gate, waiting for someone.

"Have you looked into it?"

Jager realized that the look in Joseph's eyes as he stared out the window was no ordinary thing.

It was a tense gaze, as if he were watching an approaching typhoon.

"They say he is Duke Dragulia's biological son. They also say he is the half-brother of Mircea, Captain of the dragon killer knights."

The moment Jager's report ended, the priests visible outside began moving busily.

A single dark line slashing across a dragon's throat.

Beneath the banner that signified the dragon killer knights, knights were entering Soara.

"His name is said to be Radu. Though he is young, he is already a knight with a record of slaying dragons several times."

Joseph's ears were focused on Jager, but his eyes did not leave the city gate.

There were three knights entering beneath the banner.

But even among them, the man at the very front could be faintly seen.

Even from the distant office, his bearing carried through.

"The Dragonblood Duke's son, Radu Dragulia..."

The Bayezid Family was also famous for producing fine knights, but even so, they could not compare to the Dragulia Family of the central region.

For they were a family that had inherited dragon blood, not from some tale passed down in vain, but as recorded in actual histories.

And now, together with Bishop Pierre's courteous invitation, a knight who had inherited dragon blood was walking into Soara.

"And this."

This time, Jager reported to Joseph not with words, but by handing him a small note.

"Bayezid's Eyes say they have discovered suspicious movements throughout the North."

"..."

Joseph took the note Jager handed him, carefully unfolded it, and began reading what was written inside.

"Hmm."

A groan he tried to hold back but could not.

Only a short sentence was written on the note, yet as Joseph read it, the space between his brows only narrowed.

The note he held now was both an explanation of the situation and a warning his father, Peter, was quietly giving him.

"... It seems I was mistaken."

"Pardon?"

With those words, Joseph rose from his seat and stepped closer to the window.

Because he could not wield a sword, he had trained his sharp eyes and deep thoughts.

But no matter how fiercely he had trained them, it seemed he was still lacking against an inquisitor who had spent his life on the battlefield of logic.

"Bishop Pierre's target was not Vlad."

Joseph and Bishop Pierre had certainly been fighting over control of Soara.

But the power over Soara, which had been Joseph's purpose and goal, had been nothing more than a means Bishop Pierre could discard at any time.

Bishop Pierre had been looking farther ahead than Joseph.

The churches of the North belonging to the Vatican were moving.

The first to raise his banner was Pierre, Bishop of Soara, and the place where the church's soldiers were gathering was one of the territories that had long stood in the North.

A city in the Barony of Uthman.

It was Moshiam.

※※※※

The glowing mole's blessing was truly powerful.

During the time Vlad and Got spent leaving Dobrechiti's forest, they were not attacked by monsters or beasts even once, and even their steps as they advanced were light.

The journey, which proceeded so smoothly it was almost slick, brought the two of them out of Dobrechiti's forest far sooner than expected, and that was precisely the beginning of the problem.

"Good grief. Take your time eating. No one's going to steal it from you."

A single campfire burned beneath a tree dyed white by the snow.

Under the smoke rising with its warm heat, two men were hurriedly shoveling soup into their mouths.

The man watching them from right in front spoke to Vlad and Got with an expression that seemed somehow pitiful.

Even though they had put warm soup to their lips, the two still had lips turned blue, showing just how much they had wandered all this time.

"Thank you. If we had not met you all, we would have been in serious trouble."

One had to know how to express gratitude to people who shared food.

Before he had become a pickpocket, Vlad had been a young beggar, and he knew the gratitude owed for a bowl of warm soup, so he sincerely thanked the mercenaries who had saved him.

"Oh..."

"... Well, live long enough and you see everything."

But the mercenaries who heard Vlad thank them only widened their eyes and showed surprise instead.

At the suddenly awkward atmosphere, Vlad quickly began reading the room, wondering if he had made some kind of mistake.

The survival skills he had learned in the back alleys were coming out as naturally as breathing.

"Sir knight, I suppose you are not from the central region?"

But the man who had introduced himself as the mercenary captain merely grinned and handed over sliced jerky.

It seemed he rather liked the sight of Vlad saying thank you.

"I am not from the central region. I came from the North."

"Oh. So that's why."

Only now freed from cold and hunger and barely coming to his senses, Vlad continued while looking at the mercenaries who were staring at him as if he were fascinating.

"Did I make some kind of mistake just now?"

"No, no, not at all, sir knight. Haha!"

The curly-haired man laughed loudly at Vlad's question and ladled him another bowl of soup.

"It's just that this is the first time bottom-feeders like us have heard someone like a knight thank us."

Looking at the mercenaries who called themselves bottom-feeders, Vlad felt a subtle awkwardness.

The one who had actually lived at the bottom was not the mercenaries but Vlad, yet in this new land, it seemed the way he appeared to others was simply as one young knight.

'I guess I was too polite.'

It seemed the hierarchy between classes was stricter in the central region than in the North.

There were bound to be various differences depending on the characteristics of each region, so Vlad thought he would have to be mindful of such things from now on.

"By the way, sir knight, how far are you traveling?"

"We were on our way to Tanobo. The city in Vitskaya County."

With those words, Vlad lifted his head and stared intently at the curly-haired man.

The mercenary captain lifted his bowl of soup, saw Vlad looking at him, and ended up smiling.

He had not said it with his mouth, but the intention in his eyes was far too obvious.

"Well now, what a coincidence. We happen to be on our way to Tanobo as well."

"Ohhh."

Before Vlad could answer, Got first let out a thoughtless sigh of relief.

"What a relief, boss. If we just follow those people, we can reach Tanobo."

"Shut up."

Unable to hold back the anger boiling up inside him, Vlad finally spat out a word.

Before leaving, the bastard had thumped his chest and told him to trust him alone.

But in the end, he had caused this mess, so Vlad could only blame himself for believing a swindler after all.

"I am Vlad of Soara. No, Vlad."

"I am Stefan of the Thorn Tree Mercenaries, sir knight."

Suppressing his rising irritation, Vlad offered the mercenary captain a handshake with a smiling face.

Along with their clasped hands, their eyes met.

Vlad thought Stefan's blue eyes suited his curly orange hair well.

※※※※

A city of the central region seen for the first time.

Tanobo, a proper city rather than an out-of-the-way territory like Dobrechiti, was broadening the horizons of Vlad, who had lived his entire life in Soara, through its sights alone.

"This is my first time in a city of the central region."

"Then this place will not be bad for you."

From experience, he knew well that if he looked like a country bumpkin, he would become an easy target for crime, but even so, the air of a city he was encountering for the first time made Vlad's heart grow newly excited.

"It is a city that can be called one of the trade hubs with the elves to the east. That is why many merchants and mercenaries stop by as well."

Stefan was showing as much goodwill as he could for the knight who seemed inexperienced.

No matter how young he looked, a knight was still a knight.

If a connection with a knight could be opened with only a few bowls of soup and a few kind words, it would certainly be a profitable bargain.

"Shall I look into an inn for you as well? I know a few decent places."

"Hmm. I would like only a recommendation for an inn. I intend to meet the lord here first."

"Oh. I see."

Seeing Vlad confidently say he would meet the Count of Vitskaya, Stefan's eyes shone as he nodded.

Even if someone was a knight, not all of them were valuable.

Among those who went around holding their heads high just because they were knights, there were always some more shabby than mercenaries like them.

But the young knight before his eyes had been unusual from his noble-looking appearance alone, and now he was confidently saying he would call on the count, so Stefan's eyes could not help but shine.

"If you need help, please come find us at any time. We plan to stay for a few days at the inn by the crossroads up ahead."

"Please do. No—do that."

Though Vlad suddenly addressed him in a lower manner, Stefan did not look offended; instead, he only nodded as if that was how it should be.

"I was grateful."

"Not at all, sir knight."

Speaking down to someone older than himself was unexpectedly difficult.

But Vlad had to grow used to this sort of thing now.

Joseph and the senior knights who had always proven authority for him at the front were no longer there, so now he had to reveal himself on his own.

"As for the count's mansion, you should be able to find it by going to the largest building in this city."

Stefan, who had been watching Vlad make an effort to find his place, left with a smile that said he understood everything.

The group of mercenaries following behind him carefully bowed their heads to Vlad and disappeared into the street.

"I really should go find him later and buy him a drink or something."

If one received something, one had to give something back.

If it had not been for Stefan, they might still be wandering the freezing winter forest even now, so at the very least, it would be good to express proper gratitude.

"If you're going to buy him a drink, you'd better buy something expensive, boss."

"Why?"

Got, who had been walking behind with Stefan's mercenaries, sent Vlad a meaningful look as he spoke.

"They seem to be a successful mercenary company. Judging by the gear they're wearing and how quickly they passed the inspection at the city gate earlier, they're at least a mercenary company with a known name."

"Is that so?"

Vlad's eyes, too, began to shine as he looked at Stefan leaving.

Stefan was not the only one who wanted to gain something from their relationship.

※※※※

Manors in the North were strongly practical.

Facilities with clear purposes and walls built high.

In a way, the bleakness that would make it fair to call them small castles was the defining feature of manors in the North, but the style of the central region was different.

"What brings you here?"

The pure white outer walls surrounding the mansion.

And the carvings engraved here and there between the walls were enough to leave Vlad momentarily speechless.

"I am Vlad, a knight of Bayezid. I have come because I have a special request to make of the lord here."

"What matter shall I convey?"

He was momentarily flustered by the useless elegance he was seeing for the first time, but even so, he did not forget what he had to do.

"I have an urgent matter to convey to my lord, and I wish to make use of a mage's telegram. Please tell him that I hope for the kind assistance of the Count of Vitskaya for a knight in difficulty."

He had come in haste without an appointment, but surely they could lend him something like a telegram.

If he was a sovereign who ruled a territory, he would not miss a chance to save face with only a small favor.

"Boss. Should we find an inn later? We might be invited, you know."

"Yes."

At Got's question, casually spoken from behind him, Vlad gave a small nod.

In the North, there was a custom of valuing guests who came calling.

If there was a similar custom here as well, perhaps they might at least be given dinner.

But ten minutes passed, and then an hour passed.

Even when the surroundings grew dark, no voice called for Vlad.

"..."

Joseph had sent Vlad away partly to protect him from any pretext the Vatican might seize on, but above all, his intention had been for Vlad to see a wider world.

Seen in that sense, Joseph's intention was now certainly succeeding.

"When will the answer come?"

"I do not know."

"I would at least like to hear whether it is possible or not."

"You must wait."

Cold disregard.

Even the low snickers that occasionally reached his ears.

Vlad did not grow angry at the coldness he felt for the first time in a while.

It was something familiar to him, so it was something he could endure and let pass as much as needed.

He was only puzzled as to why he was being treated this way when he had clearly proven his status.

"Until when?"

"..."

The center of the continent lay in the central region, and the lords of the central region believed they were at the center of the world.

They believed they possessed a nobility that could not be compared to the bastards of the West who fed on dry dirt, or the bastards of the North mixed with barbarian blood.

"You must wait until the count summons you."

"..."

The frog in the well had seen the world.

But the world he had believed would only be vast was merely full of yet more walls.

The center of the world discriminated against northerners this way.

Before the count's firmly closed door, Vlad had no choice but to stand there quietly like that.