Chapter 107 - The Man in the Fog (4)

My ears were ringing.

It seemed something had gone wrong during that first clash.

"N-Noir..."

Holding onto his fading vision and barely managing to stand up, Vlad walked toward Noir, who had been thrown far away.

NEIGH-

Recognizing Vlad staggering closer, the black horse struggled to its feet.

Fortunately, though its energy seemed drained, nothing appeared to be broken.

"... Damn it."

Standing while gripping Noir's reins, Vlad clenched his teeth as he looked at the sight ahead of him.

Upon the desolate stone bridge, where moonlight obscured by clouds settled down.

The fragments of armor that had just been shattered were scattering chaotically.

People could be seen lying collapsed among the fragments glinting in the moonlight.

"You should have stayed down a little longer."

And there was one person standing on the stone bridge.

Having finally struck down even the remaining knights, the unidentified man sensed Vlad's presence and turned around.

Between the hood that Vlad had split open, the man's white hair shone brightly.

"It seems we have a lot to ask each other."

At the unidentified man's words, Vlad raised his sword once more.

A stance with the sword pulled back to the extreme for a single, thrusting strike.

Seeing Vlad's stance, which was like an arrow right before it was fired, the man smiled as if he had expected it.

"Right. That."

Beneath the moonlight, the two men were facing each other.

Raising swords that were similar yet different.

* * *

"Good work."

An office bathed in bright light.

The potted plants standing here and there were craning their necks toward the sunlight streaming in through the window.

"It was a difficult task, but you did it well. I am truly thankful."

Listening to the Count's words, Vlad stared blankly at the teacup placed before him.

The elven tea, radiating a clear green hue.

He had walked a distance of over a week to obtain this single sip.

"I heard it was not an easy battle. It is a shame you couldn't retrieve the bastard's corpse."

Vlad raised his head and looked at the Count.

A man with deep wrinkles carved into his parched face.

On a body that looked ten years older than its actual age, the only things that looked their age were his fiercely shining eyes.

"I was lucky."

"Hahaha! You must have been lucky too."

The Count leaned his neck deep against the back of his chair with an expression of relief.

"You wouldn't know. Just how much of a headache that bastard caused me."

The Count closed his eyes with a carefree expression, as if an aching tooth had just been pulled.

Considering the city's main industry had been threatened by a single unidentified individual up until now, his struggles were understandable.

However, the gaze Vlad directed at the Count was merely cold.

"Who were you planning to call if I had failed?"

"Hmm?"

The Count opened his closed eyes at Vlad's sudden question.

"He was a highly skilled individual. His skills were at a level that the knights you assigned could not possibly match."

Vlad spoke while caressing the rim of the teacup.

Small ripples were forming across the crystal-clear teacup.

"Saying that I was lucky was not simply out of humility."

A red hue began to spread through Vlad's teacup.

One of the countless wounds he had sustained in the fierce battle was hiding on Vlad's finger.

It was something he had braced himself for, but the man he met on the bridge possessed far more absurd skills than what the Count had claimed.

The Count's commission had been deceiving Vlad right from the start.

"This is why you didn't dispatch the captain of the knights."

The Count had known.

That even his captain of the knights, who possessed outstanding skills, would not be a match for the unidentified plunderer.

"... Someone who takes responsibility for something must always think of what comes next."

Along with his answer, the Count looked at Vlad sitting opposite him.

A face covered in wounds, one heavily swollen eye.

Yet, the reason he gave off a strong impression rather than looking pathetic was likely due to Vlad's unwavering blue eyes.

"I had been requesting knights from the dragon killer knights in the capital."

At the Count's answer, Vlad's finger, which had been caressing the teacup, stopped.

"With our forces alone, we wouldn't have been able to repel him. Such were the skills of his that we had grasped thus far."

To obtain the cooperation of the dragon killer knights in the capital, an appropriate justification was needed.

Reasons such as a dragon appearing, or an enemy appearing that was completely impossible to handle.

If Vlad had failed this task, that too would have become a justification written into the Count's report.

As a justification pleading for the dispatch of the dragon killer knights, citing that the enemy was an opponent even a knight of this caliber could not match.

"Still, I consider it a great relief that you solved the problem. The knights of the dragon killer knights are truly expensive."

With those words, the Count pulled out a leather pouch.

"I put in more than promised. Because you safely brought the wagons back, regardless."

"..."

A heavy-looking pouch.

However, Vlad's gaze as he looked at that pouch remained deeply subdued.

"Since you have already received an invitation from the elves, you won't need my letter of recommendation. The value of that is included inside as well."

It didn't matter how much money was inside.

Because the gold coins inside this pouch alone couldn't substitute for the price of his life.

Because last night, on the stone bridge, Vlad had been as good as dead.

"I will gratefully accept it, Count."

Even so, Vlad accepted the gold coins the Count offered.

Only by knowing the exact amount inside could he charge the Count for more later.

For the price of deceiving him.

"Isn't it a waste to rot away in the North?"

From behind Vlad, who had grabbed the doorknob of the office, the Count's voice rang out.

"Wouldn't it be better to work here than in the barren North? I'll pay you more, of course."

The Count of Vitskaya, saying that he wanted to hire him.

His voice slithered coldly up the back of Vlad's neck like a snake.

"I heard you were banished from the city. Rather than the lord who abandoned you, wouldn't it be better to work under someone who recognizes your worth?"

Listening to the Count's words that treated him like an abandoned dog, Vlad slowly turned his head.

There stood the Count, raising his teacup toward him.

"I want a lord I can trust, Count."

A noble's blood is blue.

Vlad finally felt like he understood what that phrase meant.

The person in front of him right now did not see him as a human being.

"That is quite a shame."

Leaving behind the shrugging Count, Vlad exited his office.

Vlad's still-steaming teacup had not diminished in the slightest.

* * *

After slipping out of the Count's estate, Vlad quietly walked toward the outskirts of the city.

An unfamiliar yet familiar place.

It wasn't quite the back alleys of Soara, but the alleyway Vlad was currently walking through was messy and chaotic enough to bring a slum to mind.

Vlad quickly concealed his armor with his cloak and walked through the back alleys with practiced movements.

Seeing Vlad instantly transform from a proper knight into a messy scoundrel, someone in the darkness let out a surprised laugh.

TAP-

Stopping at the promised location, Vlad soon felt a small stone bounce off his boot.

"..."

He couldn't see anyone, nor could he feel any presence.

Only the sound of the wind flying by could be heard.

Judging by the fact that not even a tiny footstep could be heard, it seemed the opponent had figured out from their previous duel that he possessed a sensitive sense of hearing.

TAP-

TAP, TAP-

Just like that, Vlad followed the direction guided by the stones and entered deep into the slums of Tanobo.

The darkest place in the city.

The scenery of each city was different, but the appearance of the people pushed out to the fringes seemed similar everywhere.

The people who lived in the darkness were all gray.

"At least you know how to keep a promise."

A dead-end alleyway somewhere, which he finally reached after passing by the gray people.

A grating, metallic voice began to flow out from the dark cast shadows.

"I thought you'd run away with your tail between your legs."

The slums, the darkness, and an unpleasant voice.

They were elements that would make anyone feel pressured, but Vlad merely spoke back nonchalantly.

"There is no one following me."

Meaningless threats did not inspire much of a reaction from Vlad.

The familiar smell of the slums brushing against his nose was already drawing out the rebellious streak of a boy from within the knight.

"So stop making that weird voice."

"... Is that so?"

An awkward, dry cough slipped out from the shadows at the end of the alley.

It was a voice completely different from the grating one heard earlier.

"This worked well on the bridge, though."

Accompanied by Vlad's scolding, the man finally walked out of the darkness.

He was the unidentified plunderer wearing a gray hood.

"Shall we talk?"

"That is what I came for."

The two people, whose hand shapes resting on their swords were even similar.

The knight with a ruined face and the man in the crudely stitched gray hood stood facing each other, looking at the marks they had left on one another.

* * *

"Why aren't you asking for my name?"

"Because I doubt you'd tell me even if I asked."

Sitting at a street stall commonly found in the slums, Vlad placed an order with practiced hand gestures.

A thug oozing a fierce aura that matched his battered face.

Seeing Vlad already assimilated into the darkness of the back alleys, the man in the gray hood let out a dry laugh.

"What, are you from the slums or something?"

"I'm not going to tell you even if you ask."

"..."

Receiving the ordered food, Vlad sat on a randomly placed chair nearby and picked up a skewer.

"Retired knights usually don't reveal their names, you see."

"To be precise, only the ones who have become the lowest do."

"Most of them don't have money, either."

"..."

Vlad was reminded of Lamund by the man wearing the gray hood.

Extraordinary skills and a composure that only the highly experienced could possess.

Even down to the way he tried to keep himself hidden.

That day, inside the hood he had peeled back, there was the appearance of a man whose hair had turned white, just like Lamund's.

"Why was a retired knight out there playing bandit?"

"... My retirement was much sooner than I expected."

The man in the gray hood pulled back his hood, as if saying it was fine now, and smiled as he looked at Vlad.

"Because I still have unfinished business."

Everyone dreams of an honorable retirement.

However, those who could choose their own endings were extremely rare.

"You owe me your life. Right?"

"More or less."

"What do you mean 'more or less'?"

"I'm saying we wouldn't have known if we had fought to the bitter end."

That probably wasn't the case.

The man currently chewing on a skewer next to him was someone who had disposed of 5 knights, 10 mercenaries, and even the laborers as an afterthought, before putting his sword to his neck.

To be honest, he was the person with the most overwhelming skills among anyone he had crossed swords with so far.

"Cut the bullshit."

The retired knight snatched the skewer from Vlad's hand and took a large bite.

"Anyway, I have a lot to ask and a lot to do, so you'll have to help me for the time being."

"What do you have so much to do?"

At Vlad's question, the man in the gray hood pulled out a small pouch from his chest and tossed it.

It was a pouch containing the elven tea leaves.

"It's the elven tea leaves, isn't it? What about it?"

The fragrant Tuzon leaves.

Vlad still didn't know why the man in front of him had been plundering the Count's wagons.

"Does that look like tea to you?"

Vlad looked at the man, who was casually downing his drink.

A sneer, directed at who knows who, lingered on his face.

Retired knights who had laid down the names they had built up and become the lowest.

They were people who set off on pilgrimage-like journeys, picking up the pieces of their honor they had spilled onto the ground over the years.

"That's not tea."

And right now, the nameless retired knight calmly tilting his glass in front of Vlad.

"It's a drug."

He was a man who had ended up spilling his honor among the swaying tea leaves.