Chapter 119 - The Prodigal Returns (3)

Once, twice, three times.

His mother's hands were busy adjusting the water for the stew.

Ever since he was young, Got loved watching his mother's back as she cooked, waiting for the fragrant smell of the food created from her fingertips.

The consistency should be just right by now.

Four times, five times, six times...

But from a certain point on, the taste Got remembered began to fade.

Even now, Got remembered.

The image of his mother in front of the kitchen, wearing an apologetic expression as if she had been caught.

"..."

The scent of the stew disappearing as much as the portion increased.

The moment he saw his mother's expression then, Got realized what he had to do.

The coldly approaching reality had grabbed young Got by the collar and shaken him.

Poverty makes people bow their heads to each other even when they've done nothing wrong.

It makes people shrink and forces them to only look at the rock bottom.

That was why Got decided to leave.

Because in this damn village, there was no longer any chance to raise his head.

Until he met the praying mercenary, Goethe of Wisteria Village had been wandering like that, searching for an opportunity to look up.

* * *

A modest dining table that didn't even seem to require forks.

Inside the steaming stew, thickly sliced chunks of potato welcomed Vlad.

"I wonder if it will suit your tastes, Sir Knight..."

It was a table set with everything she had, but Goethe's mother seemed heavily bothered by the shabby ingredients, continuously wiping her hands on her apron in anxiety.

"I am sorry, Sir Knight. If you had sent word that you were coming, I would have prepared a chunk of meat in advance..."

A young knight who had appeared alongside her son.

Going purely by his appearance, he looked like the scion of some fine noble house, so he surely wouldn't be satisfied with the skills of a country woman.

'I don't think they raised chickens.'

Vlad looked at the eggs placed in front of him.

He definitely hadn't heard any chickens clucking when they came in, so these must be eggs she hurriedly borrowed from somewhere.

Since they were clearly not well-off at a glance, she must have strained herself for her son.

"Please eat, Sir Knight."

Two eggs in front of Goethe.

Three eggs in front of Vlad.

However, he knew that even this difference of a single egg was ultimately for her son.

Vlad ended up tasting a mother's flavor before he even brought the stew to his lips.

"Thank you."

So Vlad deliberately swung the stew ladle widely, scooping it into his bowl without hesitation.

He knew well that acting confidently at times like this was a gesture that relieved the burden on the host.

"... I'm so relieved. To think you came at such a perfect time."

Relieved to see Vlad picking up his spoon without hesitation, Goethe's mother soon grabbed her son's hands, her eyes tearing up.

"To think a child who hasn't kept in touch all this time would arrive right in time for his younger sister's wedding. Your father and older brother must have surely called you here."

Vlad, whose eyes and mouth were buried in the stew but whose ears were kept open, pricked up his ears at the story he was hearing.

"..."

The brown-haired woman whose eyes awkwardly met his over the stew bowl he was holding.

Looking exactly like an ordinary country maiden, the brown-haired woman was none other than Got's younger sister.

"You can stay to see Marie's wedding, right? Do you have to leave right away by any chance?"

"No, it's just..."

Not only had it been a long time, but her son had returned at truly a coincidental time, so her feelings were bound to be special.

But Got was not the one in charge of their journey; he was merely a squire accompanying a knight.

"Do I, do I have to leave right away?"

"..."

Unable to face Vlad directly, Goethe's eyes wandered awkwardly in the air.

Watching those eyes, Vlad ended up shrugging his shoulders.

'It can't be helped.'

He didn't want to be dragged around by unintended circumstances, but for something like this, he had no choice but to pause for a moment.

He had been planning to stay here for a day or two anyway.

"The stew is really delicious. Could I ask for this often over the next few days?"

"... Thank you so much. Sir Knight."

Understanding Vlad's answer, Goethe's mother clasped her hands over her chest, tears welling up in her eyes.

A quiet, peaceful country village he had never experienced before.

In this village where the warmth of the stew was conveyed along with the approaching breath of spring, Vlad decided to take a proper rest for the first time in a long while.

* * *

After finishing his meal, Vlad stepped out of the house and began to stroll around the area.

It was out of consideration for Goethe, giving him time to catch up with his family after so long, and also due to his old habit of surveying his surroundings.

"Looks like there's no stable in this house."

NEIGH!

Noir, who had come out with Vlad, was poking Vlad's back with his snout, unable to see a place for himself to stay no matter how much he looked around.

He disliked humans, but he liked the things humans made.

The free spirit of the plains was thoroughly enjoying the conveniences of civilization that blocked the wind and rain.

'To go through the trouble of building it and not use it...'

As he walked and quietly surveyed the village, a dilapidated mill caught Vlad's eye.

Since it was next to Goethe's house, he thought it might be connected to them, but it was a mill that looked like it hadn't seen any human presence for a long time.

The slowly crumbling mill seemed to hold as many stories as the cobwebs settling over it.

"... I'll find you a place to sleep, so stop poking me."

PRRRR.

As if Vlad's grumbling finally appeased him, Noir began to shake his head.

Even without Noir's complaining, Vlad was already planning to stay somewhere other than Got's house.

Got's house was as small as it was old.

Because it wouldn't be very comfortable to cram the entire family together just so he could sleep in that tiny guest room.

"Perfect timing."

From a distance, he could see several village men climbing the hill toward Got's house.

They were probably men sent by the Village Head.

Having learned the news that the strange outsider who entered the village was a knight, it wouldn't be something the Village Head could just gloss over.

'... Looks like that guy Got really got on someone's bad side.'

However, Vlad ended up furrowing his brow as he looked at the village youths coming up toward them.

The men climbing the hill each held something in their hands.

No matter how he looked at it, they didn't look like people coming to welcome a member of the village returning after a long time.

"Hey, Got!"

A loud voice that could be heard all the way to Vlad, who had stepped out for a walk.

As if wanting the whole village to hear, a burly man began to shout loudly.

"With what face has a debtor who skipped town in the dead of night crawled back here!"

A swaggering attitude shared by all of them.

On top of that, shiny scabbards that showed little signs of use.

Looking at the men who had the typical appearance of local thugs, Vlad realized they had not come looking for Got with peaceful intentions.

"... Thomas."

Got, who had been catching up with his family after so long, stepped out of the house with a deep scowl.

It was a sudden and rude summons, but Got's attitude remained calm, as if he had already expected this.

"Skipped town? I just left to see the moon because I liked the night."

"If you bolted in the middle of the night without paying the money you owe, that's skipping town, you bastard!"

Displeased with Got's relaxed response, the man who seemed to be the leader of the group began to yell.

"Pay up the overdue mill usage fees!"

"What you say hasn't changed a bit from back then. You stagnant fools."

Seeing the group who had come brandishing weapons, Got just snorted.

In the past, there was a time when he would have trembled at this threat, but to Got, who had experienced the vast world alongside Vlad, the current situation just felt like child's play.

"Including all the accumulated interest, it's a total of 2 gold..."

"Here."

Shiny coins flew through the air before he could even finish speaking.

The men wore surprised expressions as they watched Got casually flick the gold coins.

"Take that and piss off. You insufferable bastards."

"... This bastard."

He was different from before.

The Got who used to walk on eggshells around them was nowhere to be seen now.

Got, who had somehow grown so much, was looking down on them, and the leader of the group called Thomas became furious at that gaze.

"How am I supposed to accept this when I don't know where this money came from? You con artist bastard."

"... What?"

"I'm asking how I'm supposed to accept it when I don't know if it's money you swindled from somewhere just like your father."

Since the debt was paid, there was no longer any reason to converse.

But the man in front of him dug into Got's wounds, showing no intention of leaving easily.

It was likely that a long, tangled ball of emotions was creating the current situation.

"I heard you even brought some lowly knight with you this time? I heard you strutted in proudly with a flag and everything."

"Shut your mouth. If you keep running it, you won't be able to handle the consequences."

"Why. Are you afraid your pathetic little act will be exposed?"

The man named Thomas walked in a circle and began to shout loudly so everyone could hear.

"Instead of believing that you became a knight's squire, it's much better to believe the guy you brought is a fake. Right, everyone!"

"Yeah. Obviously!"

"Unless he's a fake, why would he take a guy like Got as his squire!"

"If he's willing to take an ignoramus who can't even wield a sword properly as his squire, his level is obvious!"

Hearing the mockery of the gang, the corners of Got's eyes began to turn bloodshot.

If he didn't get furious at their tyranny, insulting not only his father but also Vlad, he wouldn't deserve to stand as someone's son or squire.

"You crazy bastards."

Got placed his hand on his scabbard to draw the sword he was holding.

As they said, he hadn't learned the sword properly, but Got was still a man who had experienced a harsh world through mercenary life.

"What a bunch of punks."

"... What?"

A hair-trigger situation just before swords were drawn.

Right when Got's mother and sister, who had been holding their breath inside the house, rushed out to stop him, someone's voice rang out from behind.

"The way you act is really familiar."

A man approaching from a distance, holding the reins of a black horse.

It was a quiet voice, but it contained a power that made everyone freeze in place.

"... Are you the fake knight Got supposedly brought?"

Having temporarily taken off his armor to be treated as a guest, Vlad looked like a completely greenhorn to anyone's eyes.

The silver upper garment he wore and the spirit of the horse he brought with him didn't look ordinary, but the men, who had lived their whole lives in a small village full of themselves, lacked the discernment to distinguish between real and fake.

"A fake knight, huh."

Hearing the man's words, Vlad ended up scratching the back of his head.

How was he supposed to respond at a time like this?

Seeing his own kind for the first time in a while, the back-alley thug within him began to rear its head.

"What are you gonna do if I'm the real deal?"

"What?"

They had ignored him and insulted his squire.

Since his honor as a knight had been insulted, they would have no right to complain even if their heads were cut off.

"Still, since this is Got's hometown."

The aura pressing down on the men was growing as sharp as his curving blue eyes.

Faced with the aura of the real deal for the first time in their lives, the frogs in the well all stopped croaking.

"I'll let you live."

It was probably because of the stew.

The softly blooming memories from the stew brought up not only the longed-for image of a mother but also the scent of the dark back alleys.

"Come at me. You bastards."

Even if he wasn't a knight, Vlad had been the real deal since long ago.

The greatest prospect of Soara's back alleys.

The pure-blooded street native, born from the womb of a prostitute, fiercely bared his teeth at the naive country punks who knew nothing of the real world.

* * *

"If such a thing happened, shouldn't you have told me first?"

The Village Head's house, which was splendidly built for a small village.

But right now, a suppressed shout was leaking out from within it.

"Stefan. Calm down."

The Village Head pulled out a chair for the increasingly ferocious mercenary captain to calm him down, continuing his words.

"What kind of knight would visit this small village? Besides, the guy he brought was Got. That brat doesn't have the capacity to bring a real knight."

"... I'll tell you one more time. Village Head."

The man with scarlet hair.

Stefan, captain of the Thorn Tree Mercenaries, raised his finger in warning and threatened the Village Head.

"Matters concerning this village's security must absolutely go through me. Do not forget that this is also the Lord's will."

Stefan's warning, mixed with anger, contained a momentum that even the experienced Village Head could not easily ignore.

"Right. I will make sure to do that from now on."

Stefan didn't want to ruin the job he had finally secured.

If things got tangled right from the start in this region where they might potentially settle down, the Thorn Tree Mercenaries would have to begin an endless wandering once again.

"As you said, something like this won't happen again..."

"Village Head!"

The Village Head had been trying to calmly soothe Stefan, but he couldn't continue his words due to the door suddenly flying open.

"T-Trouble, we're in big trouble!"

A man had rushed in so suddenly it was as if he was going to break the door down.

His face was so severely contorted that it was hard to recognize, but he was one of the gang members who hung around with his son.

"That knight, the fake, no, the real one."

"... Wait, why do you look like..."

The Village Head looked at him with a shocked expression.

His face was bruised so black and blue that even his birth parents would have a hard time recognizing him.

Panting heavily, his breaths leaked out between his pathetically broken front teeth.

"That guy might kill Thomas!"

"...!"

Hearing this report like a bolt out of the blue, the Village Head unconsciously pushed past Stefan and hurriedly dashed out through the open door.

To the Village Head, the safety of his only son was just that important.

"Aaaaaaargh!"

Just then, a scream came sliding down from the hill above.

The familiar voice indeed belonged to his son, Thomas.

"Damn it..."

Stefan clenched his teeth and followed behind the Village Head.

In the end, that cocky son of the Village Head must have definitely caused an accident.

"Save meeeeeee!"

Along with a pathetic scream, a cloud of dust rose from a distance.

It was dust created by Thomas, who was being dragged around here and there with his feet tied to the back of a horse.

"Thomas! Thomas! Somebody stop it!"

Seeing this sight, the Village Head had lost his mind and was screaming wildly, but absolutely no one in the village could easily step in front of the rampaging horse.

Through Thomas's bursting wounds, bloody trails began to be engraved here and there across the village.

"Who is the Village Head."

After rampaging like that for quite some time, the black horse finally stopped in front of the village square.

Even though it was still huffing as if its anger hadn't completely dissipated yet.

"The Village Head of this village, step before me."

Blonde hair and blue eyes.

And a man who was far too brutal to be called a knight, yet far too imposing to be called a mere ruffian.

Recognizing the stranger from afar, Stefan ended up unconsciously swallowing hard.

Because he was a person who was incredibly reliable as an ally, but entirely unmanageable as an enemy.

"Who is the Village Head who dared to ignore a knight's honor by sending such a worthless punk!"

At the voice ringing out like thunder, all the villagers froze like stone.

A lesser evil is bound to be devoured by a greater evil.

The Village Head's son, who had been lording over the village with his insignificant power until now, was currently panting heavily, covered in blood at the feet of a genuine thug.