Chapter 118 - The Prodigal Returns (2)

A night where even the clouds hid the moon.

The malice clinging from everywhere was sticky.

"Huff, huff..."

Every time he let out a rough breath, a stream of blood slid down his forehead.

However, the decrepit old knight was in a state where he didn't even have the strength left to raise his hand and wipe it away.

Time always had a way of being especially cruel to the old.

"... Damn."

Blocked by a dead end, the old knight ultimately let out a sigh.

He had cut them down and ran to open a path, but in the end, he had been led exactly where they intended.

"It would have been better if you just rested peacefully."

A man approaching while pushing through the men surrounding him.

"Isn't that why we even let you retire?"

The moonlight that finally revealed itself was shining on his figure.

"... A distinguished guest has arrived."

Blonde hair and blue eyes.

A man whose sleek appearance would likely give a favorable impression to anyone, but whose momentum contained within his eyes was more vicious than anyone else's.

"It must have been exhausting coming all this way just for a worthless old man."

"It was a matter well worth the trouble."

SHING.

At the man's hand gesture, the men surrounding Auguste drew their swords.

In a polite manner, as if showing their final respects.

"Aren't you thinking too lightly of me? My fangs might have fallen out, but my claws are still sharp."

Auguste's eyes, prepared for the end, were burning coldly.

Although he had retired, there was a final mission he intended to accomplish.

Since he had stopped the elves, now if he just handed the evidence he brought over to the Imperial Household, he would be able to make the harms of Epsilon known far and wide.

It was a mission where that was all he had to do.

"Hardly."

However, the man in front of him did not lose his composure even before the old knight who was trying to burn his final flame.

"Isn't that why I came here myself?"

Captain of the Dragon Killer Knights, Mircea.

Along with his words, the tips of the knights' swords were raised toward Auguste.

The killing intent of those who kill dragons was chillingly condensing toward the old knight.

"It is not grand, but I hope the retirement ceremony we have prepared is to your liking."

The viciousness hidden within the blue eyes wriggled.

When he drew his sword, he looked like a noble knight, but when he aimed it at him, he looked like a beast baring its fangs.

'Blonde hair... blue eyes.'

And cruelty.

That intense trait that began nobly but ultimately bloomed into a cruel flower.

That trait was now looking at him from within those blue eyes.

'Ah.'

Flashing malices were approaching.

Toward a tired and aged lion.

Seeing the most brilliant malice even among them, Auguste recalled the young knight he had met in the elves' forest.

'It wasn't a trait.'

He had been mistaken.

The trace of that child, whose beginning was noble but whose end was cruel.

The cruelty Vlad had displayed was not a trait he had bloomed on his own.

It was the instinct of a predator inherited through sticky blood.

The clouds hid the moon once again.

Someone's figure slowly collapsing in the darkness devoid of even moonlight.

Within it, green tea leaves were fluttering pitifully.

The truths someone had found were scattering futilely just like that.

* * *

The city of Marcia.

The only city in the Barony of Rosmitz.

Neither particularly old nor having anything special to boast of in the territory itself, this city was the very definition of ordinary.

And right now, Vlad and Got were walking toward the city of Marcia... or rather, they weren't.

"Thanks, Boss."

"Well, I was thinking about heading back soon anyway."

Looking at Got expressing his gratitude, Vlad ended up answering awkwardly.

It was no wonder, since the party was currently heading not to Marcia, but to an isolated village four days away from there.

Having no proper given name and simply called Wisteria Village, that place was also Got's hometown.

"How long has it been?"

"What? Since I left home? Let's see, I think it's been about six years."

"It's been quite a while."

Got looked to be in his mid-twenties, so if it was six years ago, he must have run away as soon as he became an adult.

Or maybe he left before that, like Vlad did.

"I'll just check if my mom and younger siblings are doing well and then come out."

"..."

The boss of the party was Vlad to the very end, and Got was ultimately just a squire.

If the two had a normal knight and squire relationship, Got wouldn't have even dared to suggest stopping by his hometown.

That was why even now, Got was cautiously gauging Vlad's mood.

"Is your mother a good cook?"

"... Of course! The potato stew my mother makes is on a whole different level from what you get at a typical inn."

"Is that so?"

The weather was warm, and the wind was cool.

He had found a clue about the voice in Aushrina and had set a goal for what to do next, so this time he could probably afford to feel like he was on a short vacation.

"If it's that delicious, we can stay for a couple of days."

"... Heh!"

Vlad treated others coldly, but he wasn't like that to everyone.

When Jorge looked at Vlad and assessed him as a guy who would be a boss in any alley, he wasn't just talking about his outstanding skills.

"It's over there."

Got's fingertips, pointing to his hometown he hadn't seen in a long time, were trembling slightly.

Green leaves cascading in disarray next to the village entrance.

The flower buds that would soon be dyed purple were welcoming the village prodigal who had returned after a long time.

* * *

"Halt!"

A guard, whose armament was nothing special but whose glare was fierce, blocked Vlad and Got's path.

"Who are you? What business do you have in our village?"

It was clearly a small village at a glance, so he obviously wouldn't be a standing soldier.

He was probably one of the village youths acting as the Militia, but his skill in stopping strangers looked quite adept.

"Thompson. It's me, Got."

"Who? Got?"

Seeing Got waving at him gladly from atop his horse, the guard tilted his head.

"You know. The miller's house on the hill."

"Ah. That Got!"

A subtle smile appeared on the face of the guard named Thompson, who finally recognized Got.

"How many years has it been? Where have you been all this time?"

"Just, well, here and there."

Watching the two murmuring in conversation, Vlad quietly stroked Noir's neck.

The awkward appearance of the two despite their conversation.

And even the sight of the other guards standing blankly around them.

'It doesn't seem like he's particularly welcomed.'

Vlad, who always observed the atmosphere whenever he came to an unfamiliar place, realized that the attitude of the people greeting Got right now was lukewarm.

It seemed there had been some sort of issue when he left the village.

"Are my mother and younger sibling doing well?"

"Right. Nothing much has happened."

However, Got didn't seem to mind their reaction much.

At Got's attitude that even looked accustomed to it, Vlad quietly scratched his chin.

"It's nice that you're back after a long time. You're going to stay quietly and leave, right?"

"... I'll be leaving shortly. A day or two."

Seeing Thompson put forward wariness before the gladness of seeing him after a long time, Got forced a smile.

"Stop by the village chief and give your greetings first."

Got bowed his head and quietly walked in between the guards who had moved their spears aside.

"Halt."

"...?"

However, the spears quickly blocked the path again.

Even though Got had verified his identity, the guards were blocking Vlad's path once more.

"Hey. Thompson. He's my guest."

"We still have to check."

"Thompson!"

It was an action guards of a large city naturally had to take, but this was a small village and they were merely the Militia.

Since Got, who was a village resident, had vouched for his identity, they could have just let it slide, but the ensuing reaction was only cold.

"What's your name? You look young, too."

"... Haa."

Got was being ignored.

Right in front of the village where he was born and raised.

The back-alley boy inside Vlad fiercely raised his eyes, feeling the unpleasant yet familiar air.

"My name is Vlad."

Throwing back the cape Oksana had given him with a wide motion, Vlad placed his hand on the sword hanging at his waist.

The gleaming sword of the spirits was letting them know that the person in front of them was an extraordinary figure.

"Knight of Bayezid. Vlad."

Blonde hair and blue eyes.

And the aura of a ferocious predator contained within those eyes.

Feeling as if he had become a rabbit standing in front of a wolf, Thompson's back was completely drenched in sweat.

He had messed with the wrong person.

"I would prefer it if a bastard like you never asked for my name again."

"I apologize!"

Thompson, who was finally released from the spell Vlad had cast over him, bowed his head low, bending his waist deeply.

Because it was an insolence where it wouldn't be strange if a sword was swung right away, if the knight in front of him had a personality as ferocious as what he had felt.

Vlad, who had easily subdued the guards with just his momentum, looked at Got with an annoyed gaze.

"Sorry. Boss."

It wasn't an annoyance caused by the guards blocking the way.

Got had always smiled affably, but right now, only a bitter smile was formed on his face.

'This is annoying.'

Why was he cowering so much when he had returned to his hometown after such a long time?

Vlad didn't like that sight one bit.

"Hold this."

"Huh?"

Seeing the white object suddenly flying at him, Got hurriedly caught it.

"... Why this?"

A white flag fluttering in the wind.

The crests of numerous nobles and organizations engraved on it were looking at Got.

"You take the lead. So that something like this never happens again."

It was spoken in an indifferent tone, but there was consideration for Got contained within it.

He didn't know what state he was in when he left, but shouldn't he be dignified when returning?

"... I will lead the way, Sir Vlad."

"Good."

Vlad nodded lightly, seeing Got quickly catch on to his intention.

A flag containing honor.

The eyes of the village youths looking at the standard-bearer holding up that flag were growing distant with awe.

"Excuse us. Sir Knight. Welcome!"

The slowly opening wooden palisade welcomed the two.

An honorable standard-bearer holding a shining flag.

The village prodigal who had left in a shabby state had now returned to his hometown as a standard-bearer holding a shining flag.

Got's chest, taking the lead with a hint of a smile, was slowly puffing out.

* * *

Who is that. Who is he to have become so successful.

You know him. The second son of the miller's house.

That half-wit returned? My, looks like he succeeded out there.

A tiny village visited only by those who always came.

Therefore, the news that a new stranger had arrived was quietly but quickly spreading through the village.

"You were a half-wit?"

"..."

"Then again, a swindler is better than a lacking half-wit."

Vlad, who confirmed the assessment of Got from the murmuring he heard, gave a small smile.

If he was an overly atrocious person or a guy with a complicated past, he wouldn't have been able to keep him by his side for a long time.

But being a half-wit was fine.

"If we go this way, it's the village chief's house..."

"Let's go to your house first."

"Huh?"

By watching and learning by Joseph's side, Vlad had completely realized exactly what position he was in.

It meant that Vlad could now act as a dignified knight, not a shabby back-alley boy.

"Tell the village chief to come to your house. It's too bothersome to go find him."

Excessive politeness only lowers oneself.

One had to know how to act fitting to their position to receive the corresponding treatment.

"Got it."

"Don't go yourself either, just grab anyone and pass the message."

"Okay."

It was a village they had come to because of Got anyway.

So while they were here, it would be good to lift the guy up a bit.

"It's over there, right over there on the hill."

"Go on."

Noir, who usually didn't appreciate having another horse in front of him, was quietly following behind Got just for this time.

The knight and the horse thus confirmed each other's intentions through their connected worlds.

"... Looks like she's preparing lunch."

"Seems so."

A single isolated house seen ahead.

Smoke was rising from the chimney of the house where an old mill, which looked like it could no longer function properly, could be seen.

"Mom... Mom. I'm home."

The half-wit carefully pulling open the gate attached to the fence.

At the sight of his childhood home, unchanged from when he left, Got's voice grew slightly choked.

"Mom."

A woman who came out of the kitchen at the sound of the door opening.

Her appearance looked worn out.

The scarf tied tightly over her head was clean but terribly worn.

Wrinkles of time that could not be hidden were etched into her face.

They were likely deep wrinkles that her foolish son could not manage to smooth out.

"Got? Is that you, Got?"

The spatula the woman was holding fell to the ground.

"Oh my, Got!"

"Mom."

Everyone in the village had ignored him, but she alone opened her arms wide and welcomed Got.

To others, he was a prodigal who only caused trouble, but in this woman's eyes, he must be a more precious son than anyone else.

"... So today's lunch is potato stew."

Watching the mother and son embracing each other in tears, Vlad tapped the ground for no reason.

"Come to think of it, it's been a really long time since I've had a home-cooked meal."

Forcing up his growingly heavy eyes, Vlad stared blankly at the smoke spreading up from the chimney.

The pleasantly pungent smell of the kitchen spreading around seemed to bring up old memories he couldn't even remember.

The lunch Vlad would eat today would be the warm stew a mother served for her son.

It would be a taste he hadn't experienced in a long time.