Chapter 89

Chapterb 89: Don’t Disappoint Me.

Several more days had passed since Lieutenant Benjamin and his subordinates had left Daphne’s estate, groaning about hangovers and stomachaches.

The Daphne Viscounty once again welcomed a peaceful morning as if nothing had ever happened.

Roosters crowed, and the cold wind blew briskly through the air.

“Alright, let’s get to work today, too!”

“Hoho! Let’s do that!”

All across the castle, retainers stepped outside with bundles of parchment tucked under one arm, hurrying along in a flurry.

Their voices brimmed with energy, and their faces and strides radiated confidence.

A complete 180 from the sluggish, seaweed-like demeanor they usually showed every morning under the weight of their duties.

And the reason everyone was like this…

‘We received an investment of 10 million gold!’

‘A family personally invested in by Princess Medeia! And I’m a core member of that family!’

A house that had received a whopping 10 million gold investment from a royal, all the way from Fabione.

This single fact instilled a strange sense of pride in everyone’s hearts.

Moreover—

 Starting today, our house will put all its efforts into constructing a trade port.

Just yesterday, the house had formally decided on the trade port construction as its official agenda in a family meeting.

A prestigious house with a port bustling with dozens of sailing ships.

Thinking that they were now retainers of such a grand house, everyone’s hearts raced and their steps naturally became firmer.

After all, they say the position shapes the person.

As the house’s status changed, so too did the attitudes of its retainers.

Of course, the retainers weren’t the only ones affected by all this.

At that very moment, near the knight order building, in the training grounds—

“Oneee! Twoooo! Threeee!”

The original Daphne Knights, led by training instructor Manton, were running across the field shirtless, each with a log balanced on their shoulders.

Even though their entire bodies were drenched in sweat, they gritted their teeth and didn’t slow down a bit.

Their gazes kept flicking over to the other side.

And over there…

“Hohoho! Brother Beryl, remember that time?”

“Oh, of course I do. Back then, didn’t we take down over a thousand Frost Ghouls?”

“Krrrr, of course we did. More than enough! Hohoho!”

The Maw mercenaries lounged under a sunshade, idling around.

Some were chewing on jerky, while others were outright sprawled out asleep.

They had been acting like this ever since they returned from Ruslan Fortress.

Watching them from the corner of his eye, Manton ground his teeth.

‘Ugh, those bastards and their achievements…’

From the territorial war with Calpion up until now—

It had already been quite some time since those guys last showed any action.

Manton acknowledged their achievements, sure… but most of the knights here, including himself, had served the Daphne Viscounty for years, if not longer.

The fact that they were falling behind those mercenary lowlifes in terms of accomplishments—how could their pride not be wounded?

Manton shut his eyes tightly and shouted.

“Faster!”

“Yes, sir!”

Not a single knight held back; their pace surged, burning with resolve.

Of course…

“Krrrr. Yeah, that was a good time.”

“Wahahahaha!”

The Maw mercenaries, naturally, couldn’t have cared less, laughing merrily as ever.

That was when it happened.

Thwack!

“Argh! Who the hell?!”

Just as Mikkelsen burst into laughter, a heavy impact landed squarely on the crown of his head, and he shouted, whipping his head around.

And there—

“It was me, you bastard.”

Hardin stood with arms crossed, a deep scowl on his face.

Behind him…

“Urrrgh…”

Were Lord Cobalt, the ‘former’ Commander Mulgybson, Malion, and a few retainers, all standing there.

In an instant, the Maw mercenaries’ eyes widened.

Tatadat!

They all shot to their feet like lightning.

“W-We weren’t slacking off, sir! Just taking a short break! Yes, just resting for a moment!”

Beryl blurted out a desperate excuse.

Hardin looked at him with clear disapproval, clicked his tongue, and said,

“Enough, just get in line properly.”

“Eh? W-What for, sir?”

“When I say get in line, just do it. And Manton! You guys put on some clothes and get over here. We’ve got something to do.”

What the hell… What were they suddenly planning?

Everyone lined up in front of Hardin, unease written all over their faces.

Hardin exhaled through his nose and spoke to the Lord.

“Let’s begin, Father.”

“…Alright.”

Shwing!

Lord Cobalt, who had been standing in the back, drew the sword from his waist.

He then walked straight forward and stood before Beryl.

“Kneel, Beryl.”

“Eh? W-What for, all of a sudden…?”

“When I say kneel, just do it.”

As Hardin gave him a swift kick in the calf, Beryl quickly dropped to his knees on the spot.

Then, Viscount Cobalt raised the sword high with both hands.

His expression turned solemn, and the sunlight behind him cast a deep shadow over his face.

‘W-Wait… is he about to cut off my head?’

Sure, we slacked off a bit, but… isn’t this overkill?

No—what is going on?

“Why are you doing this, my lord? I… I—!”

Just as Beryl began flailing his arms in panic, Cobalt extended the sword forward.

Tap! Flinch!

Beryl flinched so hard his whole bulky frame shrank as something touched him.

“Uh…?”

He felt a cold sensation on his shoulder and cautiously opened one tightly shut eye.

Then he saw—the Lord’s sword resting gently on his shoulder.

“Beryl, you and your comrades have fought bravely for our house. The military achievements you’ve earned are no less than those of any knight, and your courage could rival the fierce waves that cross the great ocean.”

“…Excuse me?”

What in the world was happening?

Confusion clearly swept over the faces of Beryl and the Maw mercenaries.

“As the Lord of the Daphne Viscounty, I, Cobalt Daphne, command this: Beryl, leader of the Maw Mercenaries—you and your subordinates shall become knights of Daphne and protect this house from this moment onward. Will you accept this?”

“…”

Beryl’s body froze, lips moving without sound.

That’s when Hardin, standing with a slouch, spoke bluntly.

“Hey. Answer him.”

“But… I don’t understand what’s going on at all…”

“What do you mean, what? It’s a knighting ceremony.”

“…A knighting ceremony?”

A knighting ceremony? That thing they do when appointing knights?

Then that meant we were…

‘They’re taking us in as house knights?’

But why all of a sudden? Are they serious?

We were once bandits… Don’t they only knight those with noble origins or some sort of background?

Beryl’s pupils trembled like an earthquake.

“Ahem!”

“Hey, hey. The Lord is waiting. So—are you accepting or not?”

As Viscount Cobalt cleared his throat, Hardin pressed.

“…”

Beryl turned slightly and glanced at his subordinates.

They all looked surprised, but then nodded.

Likewise, Manton and the house’s formal knights exchanged calm looks, silently giving their approval.

Beryl straightened his posture, looked up at Cobalt, and answered.

“I—I accept!”

Viscount Cobalt gave a faint, pleased smile and continued.

“As of this moment, Beryl and the thirteen members of the Maw Mercenaries are formally knights of our house. From now on, you will operate as members of the newly established Maw Unit under the Knight Order. Beryl, you will serve as the unit commander of this new force.”

“I’m… the unit commander?”

“Yes. I hope you, alongside Manton, will become twin wings of our house—devoting your efforts to its growth and protection.”

“Y-Yes, sir!”

At that moment, the mouths of the Maw members standing behind him dropped wide open.

“Ooooooh…”

“Commander Beryl is now a unit commander? Whoa, damn.”

Viscount Cobalt moved his sword to Beryl’s other shoulder and tapped it twice, continuing the ceremony.

“Before God Faeron, this oath and all these words shall remain true until the day our lives come to an end.”

Shwing.

As Viscount Cobalt sheathed his sword, the serious expression melted from his face.

“That concludes the knighting ceremony. Apologies for keeping it brief. The house is just too chaotic at the moment…”

“No, sir! This alone is more than enough!”

A faint smile once again formed at the corner of Cobalt’s lips.

“Then, I’ll be counting on you from here on.”

“Yes, sir! I’ll serve to the best of my ability!”

As Beryl shot up and gave a deep bow, Cobalt returned a slight nod and turned around, disappearing in the opposite direction.

“Huuuhhh…”

Was this a dream or reality? We… really became knights? …For real?

Beryl reached up and pinched his own cheek.

The stinging pain told him this wasn’t a dream…

Just as he began to rise to his feet—

“B-Brother!”

“Ooooooh! Amazing!”

“Wooooaaaah! A knight! He’s a knight!”

The subordinates standing nearby rushed in, forming a circle around Beryl.

They grabbed his thick arms and bounced up and down with him.

‘A knight… A knight, huh?’

BEEEEEEP.

Someone nearby was screaming their lungs out, but all the noise around him faded into silence.

With his eyes briefly closed, fragments of the past began to drift through Beryl’s mind.

 Oh, Beryl. Wake up, will you? Just be grateful you’re not starving to death.

The earliest memory was from his childhood in a tribal village.

A rough-looking boy, born without a mother or father, the kind whose very face annoyed people.

That boy once heard the tales of a knight’s valor and began to dream.

He was too poor to even think about attending an academy, but he went mad trying to learn mana by any means necessary.

But then…

 A knight? Don’t make me laugh. Get lost, you bastard!

He was chased away, cursed, and rejected.

He drifted from mercenary band to mercenary band, gradually gathering like-minded comrades in similar circumstances.

They laughed, they drank, they raised hell.

To soothe the pain of dreams unfulfilled, they threw themselves desperately into work, cleaning up messes and living however they could.

And now, and now…

Beryl opened the eyes he had closed.

Through the gap between his cheering subordinates, he spotted a face quietly watching him.

A boy with yellow hair and a blank expression, arms crossed.

It was the Grand Young Master, Hardin Daphne.

‘Was it the Grand Young Master who made this happen?’

Though nothing was said, he knew it instinctively.

If it hadn’t been for that unbelievable man, something this unbelievable wouldn’t have happened.

Sniff.

A rush of emotion welled up and stung his nose.

He felt like something might even leak out of his eyes.

At that moment, Hardin let out a deep sigh and quickly strode toward him.

Beryl reflexively stretched his arms forward and spoke.

“G-Grand Young Master… Thank you, truly. I’ll devote myself to the house from now on—”

And then—

WHAM!

Hardin’s kick blazed through the air.

“Aaaagh!”

“Guh-hehek! W-Why are you hitting us?!”

Beryl and a few of the Maw mercenaries—no, now Maw unit members—rolled on the ground clutching their legs.

Hardin furrowed his brow deeply and shouted.

“Huh?! What do you mean why, you bastards! You were lazing around doing nothing instead of training!”

“Excuse me?”

“I swear to God, I’m about to split your heads open. Haaah… I’m so ashamed, I can’t even lift my head right now, can’t even look up. Isn’t that right?”

“That’s right!”

Manton, standing nearby, quickly nodded and replied.

“They need to be beaten half to death, at least.”

“They’ve been like this for days! And they call themselves knights…”

The Daphne knights joined in with playful grins, each chiming in.

Hardin stomped around, kicking the downed Maw unit members.

“Stop whining and get up already!”

“Yes, sir!”

“P-Please stop kicking us!”

Fwoosh!

As if nothing had happened, they all sprang to their feet.

“You lot are official knights now, so if you slack off even a bit, I’ll kill you. Got it?”

“Yes, sir!”

Hardin shouted with a fierce glare, and everyone snapped to attention.

‘Grand Young Master…’

And yet, a smile formed quietly on Beryl’s face.

---

In a corner of the imperial palace garden stood a detached annex.

Its location alone kept it hidden from view, and with large trees surrounding it, the entire area gave off a gloomy atmosphere even in broad daylight.

Inside the annex, in the quietest room at the end of the second floor—

Second Prince Kaline sipped wine from a glass on the table as he gazed out the window and muttered.

“This time… things didn’t go quite as planned.”

“Yes. It seems an unexpected meddler got involved and complicated matters,”

answered the young man seated opposite him, dressed in uniform, with red hair and pale skin, his tone calm and unhurried.

“It’s more than just complicated. That bitch, who I had bound by the neck, not only escaped the trap, she even aligned herself with some strange house.”

Crash!

The wine glass thrown by the Second Prince shattered, staining the floor a deep violet.

“This pisses me off. Building a port with her money, of all things.”

His eyes were filled with murderous intent.

Gone was his usual carefree, smiling façade.

The young man across from him, still expressionless, spoke calmly.

“Do not worry. That port won’t function properly anyway.”

“You’ve already made arrangements?”

“Yes. We have someone reliable in place. Once the fruit ripens… we’ll be sure to offer it up to you, Your Highness. Please wait a little longer.”

The Second Prince clenched his fist tightly and growled a warning.

“You had better not disappoint me again.”

“Yes, of course.”

Then the young man’s eyes changed for a brief moment…

“I swear upon the name of my house.”

He curled one side of his mouth into a smirk and spoke in a low voice.

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