Chapter 47
TL/Editor: Raei
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Schedule: 5/week
Illustrations: None.
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"Paying with one's body," as Belenka said, didn't carry the suggestive meaning it might today.
It meant compensating for the lack of money with one's physical effort.
This was a very common practice among knights in the medieval era.
Knights, who possessed nothing but their might, would wander the world and, when short on money, would sell their martial services to make ends meet.
Belenka owed Ian a significant debt.
Unlike modern people who just talk about owing debts, in the medieval fantasy world, debts were expected to be repaid physically.
This was because of the doctrine of the Church of Heaven's Faith.
If you owed 100, you had to pay back exactly 100 in money or services.
Offering 120 or 130 was not allowed as it would be considered usury, a sin.
Thus, Belenka was saying she would provide services equivalent to the value of saving her life and forgetting her past to Ian.
The service a knight could offer... was obviously martial in nature.
"Until my debt is fully repaid, my sword is yours, Ian."
That was why Belenka knelt.
Until she repaid her debt, she would serve Ian as her Lord.
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"Do you even know what I do?"
"What kind of question is that? Aren't you a wizard?"
"And where am I going?"
"I don't care. Wherever it is, I'm with you until the debt is repaid."
Belenka spoke indifferently.
Ian noticed that Belenka was truly indifferent about his destination.
'Not bad.'
Having briefly traveled the continent alone, Ian realized the need for a vanguard.
Wizards were weak in close combat.
On a battlefield with many, wizards might be like gods, but they struggled when a madman charged at them with a sword.
But if a similarly armed madman could stand in front and take the brunt, Ian's burden would lessen.
'With Belenka's skills, she won't be easily beaten.'
Ian, who had considered hiring mercenaries or gladiator slaves, was very pleased with the presence of the wandering knight.
"Let's get along then."
Belenka responded with a short bow, indicating she would treat Ian not as a boss but as a Lord.
"It's daylight. Let's gather the scattered soldiers."
Ian tasked Oberon with locating the mercenaries and knights.
He told him to bring them here if they were nearby.
"Ah. But Belenka. Can you even be here?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean... you were on Graham's side until yesterday."
Belenka had been slicing through the Count's soldiers just a day before.
Telling the soldiers who had lost comrades that this human butcher was now on their side would surely not make them happy.
Belenka nodded as if she understood.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"...?"
"I just arrived here for the first time today."
What the f*ck.
Ian, dumbfounded, looked at Belenka, who calmly said,
"Didn't we agree to forget my past yesterday?"
"..."
"So, I am someone who arrived here for the first time today."
Ian was dizzied by Belenka's astonishing logic...!
Sure, Ian had promised to forget her past.
But wasn't it just about forgetting her past as a cosplayer?
But f*ck, it was as if everything had been entirely edited out!
"Belenka..."
"Yes?"
"Do you think... such an excuse will work?"
Even if Ian agreed to forget Belenka's past, it wasn't like they had activated some hypnosis app that would make everyone else fail to recognize her.
Especially when she's wearing that black armor!
But Belenka was shameless.
"It's not about whether it works or not. If I say so, there's no other choice but to believe me."
Ian shook his head in disbelief.
He didn't understand, but... if she says so, well.
She'll handle it somehow.
Ian was a bit worried about Belenka, but it turned out to be an unfounded fear.
Around noon, soldiers began to gather around Ian, following his crow.
In fact, regrouping a defeated army in this era wasn't an easy task.
Normally, after a defeat in battle, it was every man for himself.
Run away on your own, gather on your own, and decide what to do next on your own.
With commanders and knights either dead or missing, what command structure was left?
"Oh? Our army lost? Might as well go home and eat."
And indeed, many soldiers did just that, went straight home.
If a soldier decided to fight and then go home to eat, from a modern perspective, it was crazy... but what could a defeated commander do?
If someone doesn't want to fight, how can you force them?
Of course, if the soldier's hometown was the same as the commander's, they could be dragged back to fight.
Because they're from the same place, it was easy to go find and fetch them.
But in such cases, they wouldn't desert in the first place.
They desert because they believe they won't get caught.
The disintegration of a defeated army was a daily occurrence in a medieval fantasy world with administrative power as insignificant as an ant's eyeball.
The Count's army was no different.
The day before, when the center was breached and the Count was attacked... the soldiers' morale hit rock bottom.
What was the reason they were bleeding in the first place?
To get paid by the Count!
But then the boss f*cking dies!
No boss, no reason for the employees to stay.
So, despite having the upper hand in the battle, the mercenaries scattered.
Many knights were captured, and the surviving knights checked the Count's corpse and then fled.
It was not for no reason that in chess, the game ends when the king is taken.
The king was the very reason for the war.
The surviving mercenaries and knights, following the principle of every man for himself, went their separate ways to find their own way to survive.
Some tried to return to the Count's domain to collect their remaining pay.
Others turned to thievery, raiding villages.
Some even joined Graham's side.
Or they just threw everything away and went home to eat the meal their mother made.
But today, Ian's crow found the remnants of the army.
The soldiers, who had been harassed by the wizard's familiar throughout the march, recognized Oberon at a glance.
"That's it! Isn't that sent by the wizard?"
"So what?"
"Shouldn't we go?"
"F*ck, what's he gonna do if we don't go?"
"Maybe he'll curse us?"
"...F*ck. That's scary."
The mercenaries might have ignored a noble's call, but they were too afraid to ignore a wizard's summon.
Wizards were unpredictable beings.
Who knew what bizarre form of retaliation they might employ?
Thanks to this, Ian was able to gather quite a number of the remnants.
When all were assembled, their number reached 300.
It was an incredibly successful regathering.
"Wait, you are!"
...And, of course, the knights and mercenaries recognized Belenka.
Unlike comic book characters with face blindness as a passive trait, these were living, breathing humans.
Belenka was the only knight in black armor.
It would be stranger if they didn't recognize her.
"The Black Knight!"
"The Black Knight was a woman!"
"But why here?"
Some impulsively drew their weapons.
It was to avenge their fallen comrades.
Then Belenka said,
"The Black Knight? Who's that?"
"...?"
"I am Belenka of Wintz."
Someone objected.
"Cut the crap! You're the Black Knight!"
"I am Belenka."
"You fought on Graham's side yesterday and killed our people!"
"I am Belenka."
"...F*ck!"
At Belenka's response, people were infuriated, and Ian was genuinely amazed.
Wow. She's shameless!
"The Black Knight was a woman?"
"..."
"I am a woman, and that person was a man. This explanation should suffice. If you continue to babble, I'll take it as an insult to my honor and demand a duel."
Everyone fell silent... not really, as someone stepped forward.
It was a righteous knight who could no longer tolerate Belenka's brazen excuses.
"I am the son of Hadalun, Greg! Belenka of Wintz! I challenge you to a duel!"
"What are the terms?"
"If I win, admit cleanly that you are the Black Knight!"
"And if the opposite occurs, I am not the Black Knight. Agreed?"
"Yes, agreed!"
'You maniacs...'
Ian watched the spontaneous duel with a nonchalant expression, chin in hand.
What is this?
It's not a game where the loudest person wins.
If you're good at fighting, then your words are right?
Does that even make sense?
But since that's how the medieval folks saw it, Ian just quietly watched.
So, if you crack your opponent's skull first, you're in the right?
Kya. Now that's romance.
Weak, modern bastards.
Why bother with keyboard battles? Why look for logic?
Beat the opponent and there's no argument!
Even the most noble of bloodlines, Lucy, served as the judge.
As Belenka swung her sword, everyone there thought the same thing.
'That's the Black Knight.'
'The Black Knight.'
'She's definitely the Black Knight...'
Of course, Belenka's swordsmanship was the same as yesterday.
Sharp, precise, and deadly.
The righteous knight couldn't last more than five exchanges before declaring surrender.
"Enough! I've lost..."
"Greg Hadalun. Who am I?"
Sign here, Greg!
Greg mumbled as if he were a defeated country's representative signing a surrender document.
"Belenka is... not... the Black Knight..."
Following that, Lucy concluded the duel.
"Belenka of Wintz is a wandering knight saved by the wizard Ian from the river yesterday! They met for the first time yesterday, and she is absolutely not the Black Knight! Therefore, she cannot be held accountable for any wrongdoing in yesterday's battle!"
Belenka once again proved her innocence (physically) in a straightforward manner.
Ah! What a noble knight!
The epitome of an impeccable knight.
"Is it done?"
"Sir Diketo!"
Ian stood up as he recognized a familiar face.
He was a knight of the Count, Sir Diketo.
"Sir. The Count..."
"... I know."
Ian felt like he had asked something he shouldn't have.
Sir Diketo, with a stern face, asked,
"What are your plans now?"
"And you, sir?"
Sir Diketo glanced at Lucy before speaking.
"As much as I'd like to attack Graham again..."
There were three main reasons Sir Diketo wanted to attack Graham.
Firstly, that was the original plan.
Coming all this way only to return empty-handed would mean they were mere remnants of a defeated force.
Only by taking Graham's head could they say, 'Though the Count has fallen, we won...'
Secondly, they needed to seize the Talian domain to pay the mercenaries.
If they returned now, the mercenaries would 100% whine to the next Count for their remaining pay.
Lost the battle but still want to be paid?
That's a separate issue.
Even if a company is in deficit, they must pay the contract money.
It's foolish not to take the money you're owed out of concern for the company.
However, the next Count (whoever that may be) will 100% try to weasel out of paying.
"What? The mercenaries want to be paid? I don't know about that, get the money from my deceased father~ The Count is already dead? Then you might as well die too and get your money in the afterlife~"
It must be really frustrating for the mercenaries, but unless they plan on following after the Count, all they could do was curse and swear.
That's just how the world works.
Those with power blatantly rip off those below them and still walk around just fine.
Then, following the beautiful tradition of the medieval era, the mercenaries will immediately turn into bandits and raid the Count's treasury (the people).
And who's going to catch those bandits?
Sir Diketo, of course, who else~
But if they seize the Talian domain and extract money from Lucy, the story changes.
It's not the Count's domain but the Talian domain that gets robbed!
Though the pillaged people might be f*cked... it's not Sir Diketo's problem as long as it's not him.
And lastly.
The most important, yet trivial reason was...
Sir Diketo simply f*cking hated Graham.
He felt that only by sending Graham to hell could the late Count rest in peace with a smile.
"Baron Talian."
When Sir Diketo called Lucy, Lucy was startled.
Usually bragging about being a Baron, now, she was genuinely surprised to be treated as one.
"We have enough soldiers left, and there's still provisions. If you command, we can fight again..."
War is for the nobility to decide.
Without Lucy's will, Sir Diketo would have to return to the Count's domain with tears in his eyes.
Lucy calmly looked around at those present.
Sir Diketo and the knights of the Count. And the soldiers following them.
The Black Knight Belenka.
And the wizard Ian.
Everyone was waiting for Lucy's command.
"Ian."
When the Baron of Talian called the wizard,
Ian answered with a smile.
"Do as you wish, Baron. You haven't forgotten what you want, have you?"
Lucy nodded.
Yes. The reason I fled the Talian domain.
Let's not forget that reason.
"I want... to drive out the usurper Graham and reclaim my land!"
Then Ian shouted!
"The Baron wishes for warrrrrr!"