How a Second Life Knight Lives

31. A Competitor from Afar.

The countess’s proposal was just one of the many problems she casually threw out.

It didn’t necessarily have to be about Morgan.

But from my perspective, it was different.

I was soon to be introduced as the Countess’s fiancé.

Perhaps I would be packaged as a young knight aspirant who instantly captivated the Countess, but would the commoners cheer?

Even with a basic understanding of noble society, it would be normal to react with astonishment at such an absurd event.

However, since the Countess’s fiancés had either died or been driven to the brink of death due to attacks, people might think, ‘The Count must have some other thoughts. After all, it’s just an engagement, not a marriage.’ and turn a blind eye.

But the tacit approval is for the Countess’s decision, not for me.

The surrounding nobles, as well as the retainers, would surely look down on me.

It’s only natural.

A commoner suddenly trying to intrude into noble society, if it ends with just being ignored, that would be a favorable reaction.

However, as the Countess’s fiancé, I cannot afford to be ignored.

If I am ignored, it is no different from the Countess being ignored. It would damage the Countess’s authority.

This is not a good situation for the Countess, who is still only engaged, that is, unmarried.

Although Countess Linnea seems willing to endure some damage to her authority for reasons she hasn’t explained to me, still, receiving a title and territory in advance, shouldn’t I at least earn my keep?

I will soon receive a title and become a noble, but I am a fiancé of commoner origin who suddenly popped up.

How can I avoid being ignored?

By being recognized for my abilities?

That is too naive a view of the world.

By building a reputation?

That takes a lot of time.

The quickest way is to become an object of fear.

If I behead the traitor Morgan, how would the retainers react?

Wouldn’t they touch their own necks at least once?

At the very least, before they ignore and insult me as a newcomer, they might think twice.

Sir Morgan is the former captain of the guard.

He was dismissed and retired from the front line due to his responsibility for the previous Count’s accidental death.

However, he was once the captain of the guard.

He was one of the key figures in the city of Kalmar for a long time, and among the Count’s retainers, he had a high level of influence.

Would such influence disappear just because he retired from his position for a mere year?

Impossible.

So, he must have manipulated the guard and turned someone like Arexon into a blind fool.

Alright.

Let’s go with Morgan.

If he has this much influence, he won’t be lacking as my sacrifice.

“The Count’s opinion sounds reasonable. Then let’s start with Sir Morgan.”

Countess Linea’s eyes widened.

Seeing her like this, she finally looks her age.

But, do I have to prepare the engagement ring?

An engagement ring suitable for a Count?

That’s troublesome. All my cash is tied up in the merchant guild.

No, wait. Since their status is higher, shouldn’t the Count’s side prepare it?

What are the customs here anyway?

Having grown up without a mother, I lacked much common knowledge about this world.

* * *

The village is burning.

It was a typical rural village with just over 30 households.

Originally, I didn’t intend to set it on fire.

Eric frowned as he dodged the sparks flying towards him.

I really didn’t intend to set it on fire.

Not until these ignorant fools took up sickles and attacked the bewildered recruits.

Of course, I can understand.

After being conscripted three times during wartime, they might have reached their limit.

But if they resist like this, it’s not conscription but plunder.

“You bastards. How can you do this as human beings? What are we supposed to do if you take even the seeds? Without seeds, we will die.”

“Even with seeds, it won’t make much difference, old man. There are four mercenary units coming behind us. I don’t think this village can handle it.”

“Fighting, stealing, killing. You are all madmen. You won’t even go to hell. You’ll wander and suffer forever even after death, urk!”

Eric kicked the village chief, who was cursing at his feet, in the solar plexus.

With a short scream, the chief fell forward and convulsed, unable to breathe properly.

“A sane person wouldn’t become a mercenary, old man. And your words are harsh. No matter what, we have to go to hell. Hey! Kid.”

“Yes.”

“Is your arm okay?”

“Ah, yes. It still hurts, but the bleeding has stopped.”

Not long ago, the young boy was crying as if he would die, his arm pierced by the village head’s sickle.

The young boy.

He must have been over 14 years old, they said.

The age for paying taxes and being drafted for labor is 14 and above.

From 14, you’re considered an adult.

So, he must have enlisted as a mercenary.

However, this kid, with a bandage wrapped around his arm, still looked like a young boy no matter how you looked at him.

Did he lie about his age?

“Mosen. Give it to your little kid.”

“Yes, Captain.”

The young recruit, Mosen, handed him a dedicated thrusting sword, and his eyes rolled anxiously.

“Thrust.”

“What?”

“Hey, thrust! You’re the one who was hit by the sickle earlier, aren’t you? Won’t you thrust? If not, I’ll do it for you!”

The recruit couldn’t escape Eric’s increasingly intense words, and under the pressure and scolding, he ended up thrusting the sword.

“Aahk!”

“You did it! Do it again! Look straight and thrust! That’s it, one more time!”

The first time was difficult, but once you’ve stabbed a person, doing it again wasn’t hard.

Once, twice, three times.

The recruit killed the village head.

And he cried.

“The kid’s crying. Mosen, throw him into the shed and come back.”

The shed, which was not far away, was a place that used to be the village warehouse but was now a hellhole.

Mosen inserted the recruit among the mercenaries coming and going.

The screams and wails of the women didn’t stop.

“I left him with the senior soldiers.”

“Are they still doing that?”

“Yes.”

“Do these people not know what’s enough? They’re not even beasts in heat.”

“It’s because Captain Eric manages the kids so strictly. So when he lets them loose like this, they go wild.”

“If you keep them loose, they’ll die soon enough. An uncontrollable army is no different from a band of thieves. The moment they meet the enemy, they think of running away first, their butts sticking out. They block their ears to orders and look around for a way to escape. It’s really a sight to behold.”

“I know. I know, Captain Eric. I was there too, wasn’t I? But there are a few who are quite dissatisfied.”

“We’ll have to prune them soon. And make sure to handle it properly when we leave. I hate troublesome matters.”

Moson nodded.

Then suddenly raised his hand and pointed behind Eric.

“Captain Eric. Behind you.”

In the distance, a few horses were kicking up dust as they ran.

There were a few cavalrymen in steel breastplates and some in loose robes on the horses.

The fluttering flag bore the same emblem as one of the two flags of Eric’s mercenary group, the Canal Mercenaries.

Duke Glenn.

It was his emblem.

*

“I am someone who assists Duke Glenn with his affairs.”

“Why has someone who can’t even say their own name come to see me?”

Eric replied curtly.

He was someone Eric didn’t want to get involved with.

Under Duke Glenn, there were those who handled secretive or dirty work.

No, there isn’t a high noble who doesn’t have such a secretive organization.

But Duke Glenn was a bit different from other high nobles.

He had half-revealed this secretive organization.

Of course, he didn’t openly announce that he had such an organization.

He just gave off the nuance that such a secretive organization existed,

spread rumors about the results of their operations,

and crucially, sometimes revealed the members.

As a result, people feared Duke Glenn.

People kept appearing who were harmed, humiliated, or even disappeared because of his secretive organization.

People were careful with their words and behaved more submissively.

From Duke Glenn’s perspective, managing his territory became much easier.

Duke Glenn began to use his secretive organization externally, hoping that what happened in his territory would also happen to his enemies.

So now Eric was meeting the will of Duke Glenn.

“Eric Kalmar. I need your name.”

“Damn it. I see why you came to me. That is my name, but it won’t be of any use. If you’re trying to pull something with the Kalmar Count family, I’m not the one. I’m so far removed that they don’t even know my face. What do you plan to do with my name?”

Despite Eric’s sneer, the other person continued calmly.

“The Count of Kalmar died a year ago.”

“That’s common knowledge.”

“And Lady Linnea is still unmarried. The countship is still vacant.”

Eric chuckled lightly.

“I’m at the very edge of the nobility, so I understand what you’re getting at, but wake up. There’s no one who can challenge Lady Linnea’s right to succession. It seems you’re trying to create a pretext with some succession law or noble law, but as long as she’s engaged, there’s no problem. She’s supposed to get married soon, so what’s the issue with her being unmarried? Besides, even if they’re just engaged, they can get married with three witnesses and a marriage vow. Talk about something feasible. And I don’t want anything to do with those crazy martial arts fanatics in the Kalmar Count family, so you should just leave.”

“Her fiancé is dead.”

Eric, who was about to leave the tent, stopped.

“Lady Linnea’s fiancé?”

“He died on a prostitute’s ship.”

“Hmph. Someone slapped Lady Linnea hard.”

“And they’ll kill again.”

At those words, Eric turned around.

His expression was complicated.

“Lady Linnea’s fiancé?”

“Yes. Lady Linnea will remain unmarried.”

Eric knew that Linnea Kalmar had seized the countship with legal and political legitimacy as the heir of the former count.

He also knew that it was proper etiquette to call Linnea Kalmar a countess, not a lady.

However, he consistently used the title “lady.”

By using the title “lady,” which is used for noblewomen, for the count who ruled the city of Kalmar and its surrounding areas, he showed his dissatisfaction and sincerity.

Who wouldn’t want the title of a great noble?

Even if he’s a distant relative, he’s still the closest relative who can claim a pretext, even if it’s forced.

Wouldn’t it be worth risking his life for it?

No, even if it’s madness, wouldn’t it be better to try than to spend the rest of his life with regret and lingering feelings?

After all, he’s just a mercenary who eats soldier’s food.

So Eric Kalmar led his mercenary band to the city of Kalmar.

And in the middle of the journey, he heard rumors about the countess’s new fiancé.

William Burroughs.

He was a man who became a sudden noble.