Chapter 14 - What Do You Want? (3)

Amid the flickering candlelight.

The look in Joseph's eyes as Vlad saw it held a sneer.

It was like the smile of a victor, born from the confidence that he controlled the entire situation.

'I'm caught.'

Vlad had been born in the back alleys and had not even had a proper birth registration.

For someone like Vlad to join the monster subjugation force recruited in the lord's name, he needed a false identity.

Something like the mercenary tag carried by the man he had killed.

"Thirty-one with that face. I suppose looking young really is something you're born with."

"It is one of the few things I can boast of."

Watching Joseph's faint smile, Vlad answered with as polite an expression as he could manage.

"Jager."

"Yes,"

But Joseph was not an easy man.

SLAP!

"Ugh!"

A sharp slap came down on Vlad.

It was the kind of slap he could have dodged, but must not dodge.

"I can understand it once. Born and raised in the back alleys, how could you possibly know the etiquette for dealing with nobles?"

"...!"

Joseph was smiling as he looked at Vlad, whose nose was bleeding.

It was a smile that said he knew everything.

"I detest lies. I should have told you that beforehand."

Over the pitch-black shadows under Joseph's eyes, something like a strange desire bloomed.

"Name."

"... I am called Vlad."

"Age."

"I am sixteen. Once this winter passes, I will be seventeen."

"Hah hah!"

At Vlad's answer, Joseph clapped his hands in delight.

"Excellent."

"..."

Vlad could not tell what was excellent, but he decided to simply keep quiet.

Because there was a knight behind him glaring fiercely at him.

"Yes. You must have had a hard time coming all the way here from Soara."

"... You knew everything."

It was a good thing he had not mixed in pointless lies this time.

The black-haired man before him had already seen through him completely.

"We confirmed that your mother was a whore, but we could not determine your father. Do you happen to know who your father is?"

"Asking a whore's child about his father. That's quite the amusing joke."

When a sarcastic answer slipped out of him without his meaning to under that oppressive atmosphere, punishment came down on Vlad at once.

"Ugh!"

"Be respectful, brat."

Unable to withstand the blow that struck the back of his knee, Vlad ended up dropping to one knee.

"No. It was a rather amusing joke."

Joseph scratched his head as he looked at Vlad kneeling before him.

"Well, as for the mercenary tag, you must have killed someone somewhere and taken it, and we've already figured out why you fled Soara."

Joseph thought.

Though he already held the man's personal details in his hand, the blond young man before him truly was full of things he wanted to know.

"Where did you learn swordsmanship?"

How had a brat who had spent his whole life living with bated breath in the back alleys acquired such astonishing skill?

Who had he learned from, and for what reason?

And what had he been born from to possess such talent?

Enough for the second son of the Bayezid Family, who stood among shining swords, to take notice.

Joseph was unbearably curious about what lay hidden inside Vlad's blue eyes.

"..."

But the person who ought to answer that question merely kept his mouth firmly shut.

SHIIING.

From behind Vlad, the quiet sound of a sword being drawn could be heard.

"Answer."

Vlad, who had been murmuring quietly with his head lowered, looked into Joseph's eyes as though he had made up his mind.

"He was a master who came like lightning and vanished like the wind."

Joseph found himself drawn into the words coming out of Vlad's mouth without realizing it.

Because what Vlad said was more than enough to stir someone's interest.

"He did not reveal who he was, but according to what he told me..."

Vlad's blue eyes did not waver.

Because this time, at least, it was not a lie.

"He said it was a secret art passed down to only one person, one that must not be told to anyone."

"... Good."

Joseph nodded.

It was not that there were no points that raised suspicion, but he could not unravel every knot bound up in secrets right now.

"I apologize for handling you roughly. I do not know if you are aware, but I am in quite a difficult situation at the moment."

Only time would be able to untie those knots.

"I would like to make you an offer."

"Please speak, Lord Joseph."

Vlad answered in a respectful posture.

Though inside, countless thoughts were coming and going.

"I would like to sponsor you."

"... Pardon?"

At Joseph's sudden offer, Vlad was briefly flustered.

He had killed a man and entered while hiding his identity.

And yet Joseph was saying he would sponsor Vlad.

"Do you not want to climb higher than you are now? Vlad of Soara?"

As he waved a card Vlad could not possibly refuse.

A knight.

Power.

Freedom.

Survival.

Their eyes met.

The two men could recognize in each other's eyes what the other wanted.

※※※※

CLACK!

Morning in the encampment rang with a loud sound.

Though it was early, all the mercenaries had gathered where the sound came from.

They had come to watch a rare sight they would not normally dare to see.

"He's holding out pretty well, isn't he?"

"His opponent is Sir Jager. Of course he's going easy on him."

A one-eyed knight and a blond boy were crossing wooden swords.

"Did he become a squire?"

"He certainly did have unusual skill."

"I heard he was over thirty."

"So there was someone here who believed that."

The sight of someone of knightly caliber displaying swordsmanship was not something common mercenaries could easily see.

And on top of that, the one receiving that swordsmanship was someone they knew well.

"Argh!"

"Impudent bastard."

Then there could be no greater spectacle than this.

Regardless of what the person who actually had to receive the sword thought.

"With skill at this level, someone like you dared hold your head stiffly before Lord Joseph?"

Along with the heavy feel of the wooden sword, there was a voice whispering so only Vlad could hear.

"..."

Vlad was somehow managing to endure the glare in Jager's eye, which looked as if it would devour him, but he could not do the same with the sword Jager swung.

"Gah!"

"You truly are a man who doesn't know his place!"

No matter how much this was a spar, the knight named Jager was one of the strongest even within the Bayezid Family.

Within the swings of such a knight was a force that a mere brat could hardly dare receive.

CLACK!

A wooden sword flashed without pause.

Footwork moved constantly in search of openings.

At Jager's movements, which exposed dozens of weaknesses with a single step, Vlad was deeply flustered.

Jager was targeting him thoroughly.

The weak spots of Vlad, who had talent but pitifully little experience.

From Vlad's point of view, they were terribly painful spots, and from the voice's point of view, they were terribly appropriate ones.

'Damn it!'

When he had been in the back alleys, he had learned the basics from Jorge, and after fleeing Soara, he had learned swordsmanship from the voice.

Vlad had used those things to cut down even a hobgoblin, but now he was merely being beaten this way and that like a scarecrow set up on the training ground.

'The level is... too different!'

He felt it in his bones.

That, just as the voice had said, he truly was nothing more than a brat.

"If you don't dodge this one, you might die."

"... If I die, Lord Joseph will be saddened."

"Seeing as your mouth is still alive, you'll dodge it well enough."

The level was different, and the class was different.

The world they stood upon was different from the start.

'So this is a knight!'

It was incomparable to Jorge, and it was a different sword from Godin's.

"Huu!"

That sword now coming down toward his skull.

'Should I dodge?'

It would follow.

'Should I block?'

It was too strong for that.

'Then!'

SLIIIDE.

At the sound, far too smooth to be wooden swords with fierce force colliding, the mercenaries around them unconsciously held their breath.

"Whoa."

"As expected of Rhimann. He had a move."

Their levels were utterly different, but the mercenaries were also people who handled swords.

That was why they could tell how impressive the scene unfolding before their eyes was.

The positions of the two swords had changed in the blink of an eye.

"He deflected it."

Just as someone said, Vlad had succeeded in knocking Jager's sword aside.

"Good. It has to be at least this much."

To be precise, he had probably been allowed to deflect it.

"Hah, hah..."

A bead of sweat hung pitifully from the tip of Vlad's chin.

"Were you really trying to kill me?"

"It is not as though there are no squires who die while receiving instruction in swordsmanship from knights."

The one-eyed knight said it with a smile, but Vlad, who was looking at him, was trembling with anger.

'Do I have to keep doing this from now on?'

"We will continue sparring this way from now on."

"... Could you not go just a little easier on me?"

Perhaps his legs had given out without his realizing it, because Vlad sank down where he stood, and Jager answered with a smile.

"Why? You look like you can handle it well enough."

"Is something wrong with your eye? Do I look like someone who can handle this?"

At Vlad's small grumble, Jager toyed with his eyepatch and answered.

"I may be missing one eye, but my eye for judgment is accurate, so do not worry."

Watching Jager leave the clearing with the words that morning sparring was over, Vlad closed his eyes.

And he murmured in a small voice.

"Not a shred of loyalty. You didn't give me a single bit of advice."

["There are things you learn by getting hit."]

Though he expressed his complaint in a small murmur, the voice merely answered as if it were only natural.

["It was an excellent spar. He was mercilessly shaving away the needless excess caught in your body."]

The voice's judgment was accurate.

The voice was building up Vlad's skill by passing on what it knew, but Jager was in the middle of carving down the raw stone called Vlad through sparring that was practically actual combat.

So that he could become a little sharper and shine a little brighter.

That was an area of teaching the voice could not provide.

"... I have no one on my side anywhere."

Because Vlad closed his eyes at the same time he said those words, he would not have seen it.

That a satisfied smile had appeared on the face of Jager as he walked away from him.

After beating Vlad up from early morning like that, Jager entered the tent where his lord was.

"Lord Joseph."

"Come in."

There sat Joseph, who had even skipped breakfast while waiting for him.

"What do you think, having seen him yourself?"

"He is useful."

"To what degree?"

"... If he had been the child of a noble house, the count would have taken notice as well."

"As expected, my eye was not wrong."

As he watched Jager report on Vlad, Joseph wore a deep smile.

"But as I told you before, the problem is that he does not know his place and is arrogant."

"Etiquette can be taught slowly. It seems the right person for that task is standing before me now."

Through the conversation the previous night, Vlad had obtained what he wanted, but in exchange, he had incurred Jager's anger.

"A sword that is not loyal cannot be trusted."

"I would not have trusted him anyway, even if he had bowed his head respectfully the moment he saw me."

Joseph's eyes shone as he thought of the previous night's conversation.

"It was fortunate instead that he revealed what was inside."

Last night, that fellow Vlad had dared hold his head stiffly before him and say it.

That he had something he had to do.

"Perhaps this worked out better. A relationship where we give each other what the other wants may be more fitting."

"..."

At Joseph's words, Jager could only nod.

Though Joseph had not been born with a sturdy body or talent for the sword, a talent no less remarkable than those dwelled within him.

The talent of a ruler.

"Arrogant, untrustworthy, and living drunk on his own greatness. Does he not seem just like a wolf?"

"..."

Jager could tell.

Joseph was speaking to him now, but the person he was truly looking at was someone else.

"Even a wolf like that, if fed well, may one day come to be tamed."

A wolf was a free creature.

That was why he wanted it all the more.

"Is that not so, Sir Jager?"

"Things will go as you wish, Lord Joseph."

Joseph decided not to hurry.

Because it would take time to build a cage large enough that the wolf would mistake itself for free.