Chapter 120 - About where do you stand? (1)

"…If it were me, I would drop to my knees right now. Village Head."

A wolf was smiling just ahead.

A wolf looking at the pitiful flock of sheep swarming toward him.

The moment Stefan saw Vlad's cold gaze sweep past him, he felt goosebumps rise on the back of his neck.

"He is but one man, and we number in the dozens. If you just take the lead, we can easily subdue him!"

At the Village Head's absurd proposal, Stefan ended up unconsciously snorting in derision.

No matter how peacefully they had lived, to think they couldn't recognize the threat smiling right in front of them.

This man was someone completely unqualified to hold the position of Village Head.

"Then we will be stepping back."

"…What?"

With those words, Stefan and the mercenaries began to slowly back away.

The mercenaries, who lived on the crossroads of life and death, recognized who the cruel wolf smiling in front of them was and did not hesitate to bow their heads to him.

"What the… Why are you doing this."

"Weren't you hired exactly for times like this! Why are you backing out!"

The Militia members, who had gathered while each clutching a spear, ended up panicking as they watched the mercenaries withdraw from the battlefield without hesitation.

"That man is a knight."

"What?"

"That man is a real knight."

Some of the mercenaries who recognized Vlad quietly tipped off the villagers even as they backed away.

Warning them that no matter how many of them gathered, the man standing before them was someone they could not handle.

"Drop your weapons right now, you dumbasses."

"…"

The atmosphere was gradually freezing over.

Despite being only one person, a momentum that overwhelmed dozens was held within his blue eyes.

Only then grasping the situation, the villagers swallowed hard and looked at Vlad.

"You are lucky."

The black horse's breath grew rough.

Rough enough to trample the humans in front of it at any moment.

Because the world it was connected to was churning just as much.

"Because I came here to quietly spend my vacation."

'If this sword is drawn, there is no turning back.'

'Because the worlds that surrounded and taught me told me not to stop until it is over once a sword is drawn.'

'And I am a person who is not used to holding back.'

"Do not miss the last chance I am offering you. Village Head."

No matter if they had only lived in a tiny little world, they had to recognize it by now.

Who the person standing in front of them right now was, and what they were doing to him.

Piercing through their anger, panic, and prejudice to finally face reality, the villagers' lips ended up turning pale blue.

Their eyes were trembling as mercilessly as the tips of their shaking spears.

* * *

"…"

A heavy silence settled in the Village Head's house.

Befitting the largest and most spacious house in the village, the space inside was pleasant, but the heaviness of the air lingering within was beyond imagination.

"For us to dare fail to recognize you, Sir Knight…"

"Three gold a head."

"Pardon?"

Vlad's cold gaze swept over the Village Head as the man numbly questioned him.

"I will let the ones who pointed their spears at me slide. However, I cannot just let the bastards who barged into Got's house go."

Just the villagers who had pointed their spears at him moments ago numbered in the dozens.

However, if he were to kill them all just for antagonizing him, he would be no different from a mere murderer.

No matter how much authority he had, rights were meant to be exercised in accordance with common sense.

"Three gold a head."

"B-But Sir Knight. Three gold in a small village like ours is…"

"Your son is ten gold."

Even so, he could not simply overlook the insult he had been dealt.

Vlad was proposing a compensation plan that even Baron Rosmitz, the master of this village, would have no choice but to nod in agreement to if he heard it.

Even though it was an exorbitant amount of gold that felt like a bolt out of the blue for the parties who actually had to pay it.

"If you truly cannot pay the money, there is another way."

"Just say the word!"

The Village Head bowed his head and tried to find an alternative to the gold coins, but he needed to realize one thing.

That in this world, resolving things with money is the cheapest way out.

"Cut off and bring me each of their left arms."

"…S-Sir Knight."

He was someone who had grown up in a harsh place and had sworn to wield a sharp sword for the rest of his life.

The words Vlad spat out carried a chilling sincerity that anyone who heard them could understand.

"Of course, for your son, you will have to chop off both arms."

Facing Vlad's glaring eyes, the Village Head ended up losing even the energy to open his mouth.

There would be no further negotiations.

If he rejected all of these proposals, his son and those arrogant bastards would lose their lives.

"Anything else to say?"

"…No."

"Then get out."

Having driven the village into a crisis through a misjudgment, the Village Head, who still had a final bit of tact left, had no choice but to drop his head and walk outside.

Because the ones who committed an irreversible mistake were none other than themselves.

"…So you had this side to you as well."

"It's a good thing you didn't step in, Stefan. I was already debating whether to slice someone up to make an example out of them."

At Vlad's nonchalant words, Stefan unconsciously pulled down the collar of his tunic.

Vlad's tone, his anger not having fully dissipated yet, was laced with thorns that were difficult to easily overlook.

"Well, we already knew what kind of person you are, Sir Knight."

Vlad pushed aside the tea the Village Head had served him and stood up from his seat.

Looking at the numerous liquor bottles placed in the display cabinet, Vlad continued speaking.

"But how did you end up drifting all the way here? You guys shouldn't have the kind of skills that would get you pushed into a backwater countryside like this."

'Is this mead?'

Having found a liquor bottle that couldn't easily be seen in the North where flowers were precious, Vlad's eyes began to sparkle.

"Well, in a way, we're here thanks to you, Sir Knight."

"…Ah."

Realizing what Stefan meant, Vlad ended up letting out a low groan.

"Still, it hasn't been that bad. It's been a while since I've seen the countryside, and the air clears my nose, too."

"Let's have a drink of this. I'll pour you a glass."

Without any hesitation, as if it were his own, Vlad opened the Village Head's mead and poured it for Stefan.

Vlad, who had fallen out with the Count of Vitskaya back in Tanobo.

It hadn't been much of an issue for Vlad, who had been planning to leave anyway, but the Thorn Tree Mercenaries, who had intended to settle down and establish a new base there, had no choice but to wander around again looking for commissions.

Stefan's words were not just him whining; they were the truth.

"So what commission brought you here?"

"Hmm… As a rule, we aren't supposed to disclose the details of a commission without our employer's permission, but."

Vlad ended up smiling at Stefan's chatter.

Delicious alcohol and an acquaintance he had ties with.

It was the moment the heavy atmosphere that had been sinking them down until now shattered.

"I saved your life, didn't I. Both this time and the last time."

"That's right. If it hadn't been for you on that bridge back then, Sir Knight, who knows what would have happened."

The position of mercenary captain wasn't a rank one could reach simply by having swung a sword for a living.

It was also a position where one had to relax the atmosphere—just like facing Vlad now—and promote themselves to employers.

"It's not exactly a secret anyway. It's something everyone who needs to know already knows."

Stefan, swallowing the liquor Vlad had poured him, leaned his head closer to Vlad as if someone might be listening and quietly opened his mouth.

"It seems a war will break out here sooner or later."

"A war?"

"I'm talking about a territory war. The land-grabbing game the nobles play amongst themselves."

As completely unexpected words popped out of Stefan's mouth, Vlad set down his glass and straightened his posture.

A world he had never experienced before was flowing from the tip of Stefan's tongue.

"Keep going."

"…The commission we received from Baron Rosmitz was to protect this village from bandits."

Looking for a new region to put down roots in, the Thorn Tree Mercenaries had taken on a sort of local defense duty and come here to Wisteria Village.

It was because the looting activities of bandits near the borders of the barony had been becoming more frequent lately.

"And what do bandits have to do with a territory war?"

"That is exactly the core of the issue."

Even though the Village Head's house was empty, Stefan quietly leaned in close as if someone might be listening and spoke toward Vlad.

"Those bastards going around looting, no matter how you look at it, they don't seem to be bandits."

"…"

While the country folk might not know, Stefan, who was a hardened veteran in the mercenary industry, could tell.

That the behavior of the bandits running rampant in this vicinity was suspicious.

"The way they hit and run is far too clean and refined. Almost like trained soldiers."

"…Hmm."

Baron Rosmitz probably knew as well.

That the bandits running rampant right now were no ordinary men.

"From how I see it, this is a sort of preliminary skirmish. They're securing an entry route to strike at Marcia."

The enemy was securing an entry route toward Marcia while clearing out the surrounding villages before declaring war.

"Then what about Baron Rosmitz?"

"He is buying time."

And Baron Rosmitz was using a few villages as sacrifices to buy the troops and time needed to establish a defensive line.

The attacker and the defender.

While the movements of both sides might have been strategically correct, in the end, the ones being sacrificed were nothing but oblivious villagers.

"We're only planning to stay here until this week, collect our money, and leave. We can't stay aboard a sinking ship, can we."

"…Is that so?"

The mead he was drinking tasted bitter.

He had come to this village to enjoy a vacation, yet it felt like he had been swept up in something once again.

No, it was an era where that was bound to happen no matter where one went.

"Who is the opponent?"

"…I'm thinking it's probably House Philos. The looting has been advancing from their direction."

"Philos?"

While his common knowledge had not yet deepened to the point where he knew noble families inside and out, the family named Philos was definitely one that existed in Vlad's memory.

'Philos, Philos…'

Vlad closed his eyes and rummaged through his memories as much as possible, beginning to recall the familiar name.

'Ah.'

As the name that had sunk deep into his memories began to surface, Vlad felt as though a faint scent of lemon was gathering at the tip of his nose.

["He's just as strong as I heard."]

["He isn't called a mud boar for nothing. If you get caught by that, you won't even have a bone left to pick up."]

There was a land where he had taken his first step to becoming a knight.

That duel from back then, where the beginning had not been honorable, but the end had bloomed splendidly.

There had been a gaze glaring at the boy who stepped up, carrying the honor Joseph had lent him on his back.

It was a knight who had been fuming, unable to overcome his anger over being defeated by his master, Jager.

* * *

AAAAARGH!

"Please spare me! I'll give you whatever you want!"

Along with the acrid smoke, the screams of people were ringing out everywhere.

Within the tiny village, sounds that could no longer leak out were buzzing and echoing.

"Sir Colin."

"Report."

A thick stench of blood and someone's cries.

Amidst such a scene of slaughter, a dark-skinned man was chewing on jerky as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

"We have completely taken control of this village."

"Did you extract everything worth taking?"

If it was a village to be burned down, it was only right to take out anything useful first.

Because they would be items without owners now anyway.

"…Is this all there is?"

"It seems they were a very poor village to begin with."

It was not a city, just a village.

And one stuck in a corner of the mountains at that, so there was no way any loot that would satisfy them was going to come out of it.

The man called Colin's expression began to contort, as if he were displeased with the loot in front of him.

"Still, the next village we go to will be a bit different. It's a village near Marcia, and I hear the Village Head there was a former tax collector."

"Is that so?"

The expression of the boar, who had caught the scent of the gold coins he desired, finally began to look pleased.

If he was a former tax collector, he was bound to have stashed away a slush fund one way or another.

Because it was a position that allowed for such things in the first place.

"Where did you say the next village was?"

"They call it Wisteria Village."

Putting away the dagger he had been using to cut chunks of meat, Colin stood up from his seat.

Just in time, the twilight was fading.

Perhaps sparkling gold coins were waiting in the direction the sun was setting.

"Hurry up and wrap things up."

"Yes, Sir Colin."

A knight is a sword.

And a sword is inherently a tool.

Depending on who holds the hilt, a knight will reflect various forms.

And today, Colin of House Philos, who had laid down his honor on the orders of his lord, was no longer in the form of a knight.

He was merely in the form of an atrocious bandit.