CHAPTER 116

Vlad opened the pouch he received from the count and began counting the gold coins inside one by one.

The money received from the count, a total of 20 gold.

"Hmm, it's ambiguous."

The gleaming coins were spread out before him, but Vlad merely furrowed his eyebrows.

If seen only as payment for escorting the carriage, it was certainly a considerable sum. However, considering it as payment for risking his life, it seemed insufficient.

Perhaps Count Bitskaya intended to make up for the shortfall with resentment.

"Gott."

"Yes?"

Gott reflexively caught the coins flying towards him.

"Salary."

"Oh... oh."

Three gleaming gold coins.

Seeing the income that even a common farmer would have to toil for a year to earn, Gott rubbed his feet together in excitement.

"What! Are you going to give me three gold coins each time from now on?"

"If I have the money."

"Ha!"

Gott thought as he bit into the gold coin.

He had indeed made the right choice by following Vlad.

No matter how capable a person might be, if they were stingy in opening their purse, it would be tiresome to follow them.

But the knight here didn't seem to mind taking care of his subordinate.

It was as if the bosses in the back alleys were generously scattering money.

"And this is for security."

"Again!"

With casual words, another gold coin flew towards him.

Gott's expression as he looked at the flying coin seemed genuinely happy.

"Use that to pay for the inn as well."

"Of course."

"And pay for the one in the next room too."

"Obviously, we should cover the one in the next room. Huh?"

Gott, who had been excited about the gleaming coins, couldn't help but frown at the sound he was hearing now.

"Why the next room? Are we supposed to move along with that person in the future?"

It wasn't just Vlad who had suffered the attack from the gray-hooded man on the stone bridge.

Even now, Gott's bruised cheekbones vividly reminded him of that day's pain.

"The payment I gave you includes compensation for dealing with any trouble."

"...Does that person have a reason to follow us?"

Vlad quickly calmed Gott's dissatisfaction with a gold coin and stood up.

"Where are you going?"

"To Stefan."

If they had been used, a price must be paid. 

Furthermore, since the Thornwood Mercenaries had followed Vlad, they had fallen out of favor with Bitskaya, so price for that had to be made as well.

"They didn't run away. That's enough to know."

Gott nodded while listening to Vlad.

As former mercenaries, they knew well how valuable it was to have mercenaries who would stand by them to the end.

"I am going then."

"Come back safe, Captain."

With only a brief farewell, Vlad adjusted his cloak and stepped out into the cold.

Watching Vlad open the door to the inn, Gott scratched his jaw.

"...He's become quite dignified now."

During their first meeting, Vlad had been nothing more than a wild boy ignorant of the world's affairs, but now, the sight of Vlad stepping outside exuded the aura of a knight with a sense of weight.

It was the same winter as before, but Vlad's shoulders seemed broader as he stepped outside.

※※※※

The end of a cold winter.

Though not as severe as in the north, this place, located at the edge of the central region, was still bitterly cold.

"You received plenty of money, so why is this all we have for dinner?"

The man in the gray hood rummaged through the pot Gott had prepared, sticking out his tongue in disdain.

"Don't knights need to eat meat to exert strength? A knight doesn't save money on food."

Gott protruded his lips in annoyance as he watched the man belittle the stew he had painstakingly cooked.

However, he refrained from saying more because he understood the abilities of the person in front of him very well.

"The prices in Tanoboya are insane."

"No matter how expensive, that's no excuse."

"I had no money left after buying food for someone's horse."

"...In that case, it can't be helped."

The man in the gray hood listened to Vlad's words and quietly grabbed the ladle he had been twirling, transferring the stew into bowls.

Those who struggled at the bottom should be grateful for even the smallest assistance.

"Do you still not know who your teacher is?"

"If I knew, I would have told you sooner. At that time, the sword was up to my throat."

The man in the gray hood peered at Vlad across the bowl he was holding, but the young knight's gaze showed no sign of wavering.

Annoyingly so.

"I've been saying it all along. I'm also searching for him."

"Hmm."

It wasn't an outright lie, but the statement that Vlad was searching for his teacher was not entirely true either.

If he had lied, even Vlad, who had survived ruthlessly in the alleys, wouldn't have been able to deceive the man in front of him.

He was someone who could discern truth from lies.

"The imperial sword should never be leaked outside..."

The man in the gray hood listened to Vlad's words and frowned, as if troubled, lifting his spoon.

"But is it true that the swordsmanship I use is what the Imperial Knights really use?"

"Technically, it is the Imperial Sword. The art of killing with a single blow is something that only passed down to a select few Imperial Knights."

The man in the gray hood spoke.

One born from the bloodline of the Imperial Family.

Or the kind of swordsmanship passed down only to their closest aides and a few select knights.

Vlad was momentarily stunned to realize that he had been using such remarkable swordsmanship all this time.

"So, does that mean I shouldn't be using it?"

"Is your father perhaps going to become the emperor?"

"I don't think so."

"In that case, it could be troublesome."

Without proper authorization, one cannot wield it.

Because the art of killing with a single strike belonged solely to the Imperial Family.

More precisely, it was the swordsmanship of Frausen, the founding king and the only Sword Master, so if the Imperial Family were to find out about this, they wouldn't stay silent.

"People from the North might not know, but as you move towards the Central region, there are those who recognize it. If you're not careful, you could be charged with disrespecting the Imperial Family."

"...Then what should I do?"

As the enormity of the crime spilled from the man's lips, Vlad couldn't help but lower his voice involuntarily.

Vlad had never even thought of the word imperial family in his life, so the current situation was bound to be burdensome.

"It's not like there's no way."

The man in the gray hood chuckled faintly as he looked at Vlad.

"First, let me have a look at your swordsmanship. The technique you're using seems to have been leaked quite some time ago."

The man with the gray hood clearly recognized Vlad's swordsmanship as he was struck with a blow that took out everything.

Vlad's swordsmanship indeed seemed to match that of the Imperial Sword, but there was a difference from the one currently being used.

"Why do you think so?"

"What you're using is closer to the original form."

The man raised the ladle and gently began stirring the pot containing the stew.

"If this bland stew is what you call the one-hit killing technique you're using..."

As the sausages to be used in tomorrow's meal were sliced and added to the stew, the fragrant aroma and the sizzling oil droplets began to enhance the flavor of the simmering stew.

"This is the one-hit killing technique currently used by the imperial family."

Time passes and all things that have a form change.

Since the Empire was established 300 years ago, it was natural for the swordsmanship of the Imperial Family to undergo continuous development in line with the empire's ancient tradition.

"It's a little more delicious than before."

"....."

Vlad looked at the stew with floating pieces of meat.

He seemed to have some idea of what the man in the gray hood was trying to say.

"Then..."

"The secret to killing with a single blow comes from its unexpectedness."

The man said as he transferred sausages to his plate.

"And unexpectedness comes from a concept that cannot be refined into rules."

Finally removing the floating pieces of meat, the man smiled at Vlad.

"Now, it's time to add your own ingredients here. To the point where even people in the imperial family tilt their heads when they see it."

Even if they started from the same root, bloom your own flower.

The pursuit of the secret of the one-hit kill is swordsmanship.

"Is it possible?"

A knight from the North who uses the Imperial Sword.

A young knight whose very existence is nothing short of unexpected.

There was a truly subtle smile on the face of the former captain of the Imperial Security Guards as he looked at Vlad.

※※※※

"No... Why did you come here?"

An office filled with elven decorations.

Count Bitskaya was bustling around to greet the unexpected guest.

"Didn't you ask me to come?"

"No. Nevertheless."

Although he was requested, he didn't confirm his arrival.

So, the Count couldn't help but be surprised at the knight before him.

Mirshea, the commander of the Dragon Slayer Knights.

He was a highly skilled knight that anyone would find difficult to invite.

"Would you like some tea, at least?"

"...Elven tea doesn't suit my taste."

Blonde hair and blue eyes.

Looking at Mirshea, who was staring sharply at him, Count Bitskaya couldn't help but recall the northern wanderer who had left the city a few days ago.

"Yes! Yes, of course. It's definitely not tea worth giving to a special guest."

However, even if it is the same blue, the depth is different.

The count quickly started brewing fresh water as he understood Mirshea's sharp refusal.

"Is Absilon coming along well? I received reports of an unidentified attacker."

"It's been resolved. Very well resolved indeed!"

The Count served him, and the Duke's son sat at the head table as if he were the owner.

It may not be an illusion that it seems as if the owner and the guest have been swapped.

Their current demeanor clearly revealed the relationship between Bitskaya and Dragulia.

"How so?"

It felt as if his gaze pierced through.

Facing Mirshea's chilling gaze, the count felt a chill down to his bones.

"Didn't you say that he is a powerful person that cannot be defeated by your knights alone?"

"I...I did."

The count licked his lips nervously and replied, trying to erase his tense expression.

"A knight from the North was present. He was young but skilled."

".....From the North?"

Mirshea's eyebrows twitched as he listened to the count's report.

"Yes. A lad named Vlad. Despite his youth, he wielded a remarkable sword."

Carefully pouring tea into the cup, the count spoke cautiously.

"Still, since he's a northern, he didn't know his place and behaved rudely."

"..."

"Indeed, inferior blood always shows its colors. Where will the blood of the barbarians go?"

The Count smiled and looked at Mirshea as he said those words.

Raising the cup to his lips, he seemed calm as he savored the aroma of the tea.

His adept tea ceremony skills, learned from the elves, seemed to satisfy even the nobility of the central region...

Crash—

A breaking sound.

It was just the sound of a shattered teacup, but the count was startled, his eyes widening in surprise.

The red tea water leaking through the broken teacup ominously soaked the table.

"Did it really seem that way?"

A heavy silence descended upon the office as they both sank into their seats.

The crack that started in the teacup was spreading to the air in the office.

"...Yes?"

"Wherever you look, the inferior bloodline shows."

The count unconsciously gripped his trembling hand.

Though he was slow to realize, his instinct had already kicked in.

The clattering of teacups and plates echoed loudly.

"Did that bloodline you recognized truly seem so inferior?"

At the question, the Count Bitskaya swallowed hard and raised his head.

The blue eyes staring back at him contained a bloodlust that even the blue blood of nobility couldn't handle.