Chapter 115 : Chapter 115

Chapter 115 : The Oath of Bastion

Bill kept saying it.

Adeline and Jayden had given strict orders to keep me completely under wraps.

Only a select few were to know my whereabouts, and I’d covered my entire body with a robe to avoid standing out—all for that reason.

I followed along without much thought.

I planned to lie low like a dead mouse until I left Conwell anyway.

“It’s such a shame. Godin’s amazing dishes—everyone in the world should know about them.”

He was blabbering on, not even minding me sitting next to him.

If this guy were a swordsman like me, he’d have sensed my killing intent by now.

“If this festival goes well, don’t you think there’s a lot we could do together, Godin? I mean, if you shared your recipes, I could boost productivity and sell a ton.”

I let out a hollow laugh, dumbfounded.

Now he was blatantly trying to steal.

I wasn’t mistaken.

A recipe was a chef’s record of their time, effort, and dedication—their secret manual.

A chef’s recipe and a swordsman’s swordsmanship techniques.

At least by my standards, the two weren’t much different.

If someone demanded my swordsmanship techniques like that?

It’d be a fight to the death.

I felt bad for Bill, but my patience had run dry.

“Walter!”

Godin’s shout thundered from above like a lightning bolt.

It startled not only the smirking middle-aged man but even me, who was about to reach out.

“If you’re not ordering food, get out.”

“Godin, my words—”

“Get out.”

Godin’s half-closed eyelids trembled.

He seemed to be suppressing his anger.

“This place is for eating delicious food and resting for a while. Just yesterday, customers made happy memories in the very seat you’re in.”

My fleeting emotions settled quietly.

I was one of those ‘yesterday’s customers’ Godin mentioned.

“Don’t taint it. Get out. Now.”

Godin pointed at the door.

A brief silence fell.

Scrape—

“…If that’s how it is, fine, I’ll go. I get your point.”

The middle-aged man, Walter, stood and gestured, and the men standing around finally started filing out one by one.

Walter, following them at a leisurely pace, tapped my shoulder twice.

“Young friend, enjoy your meal and make some good memories.”

I quietly turned my head, tracking his retreating figure with my eyes alone.

After Walter’s group left, the place felt empty.

The cramped shop seemed almost spacious, like an illusion.

Creak.

In the awkward silence, the sound of the door opening rang out.

Walter poked his head through the gap, looking between me and Godin.

“I messed with your business, so let’s call it even with my guy’s broken arm. Got it?”

Godin’s face, staring at him, held no emotion.

Mine probably wasn’t much different.

“Guess you’re not taking orders right now.”

“…I’d like to say no, but honestly… yeah. I’m in a rotten mood. It’s hard to give my all like this.”

I quietly stood, bowed to Godin, and turned to leave.

I’d heard from Bill last night, before falling asleep, that ‘The Oath of Bastion’ had a special breakfast-only menu.

Honestly, I was excited the moment I woke up.

It was a rare thrill.

‘…Walter.’

I’d make him pay the price he deserved.

* * *

In a quiet alley, I sat roughly, chewing on a piece of bread.

“Bihen, Bihen…!”

Bill came running from a distance, shouting my name.

He’d told me to be careful, yet here he was, being reckless himself.

“Find anything?”

“Y-Yeah! Huff, huff… Hold on, let me rest a bit. I’m so out of breath I might puke.”

Bill collapsed in front of me, panting heavily.

I didn’t respond, just tore at the bread irritably.

The more I chewed, the angrier I got.

I should’ve been eating Godin’s breakfast special, not this cheap grain lump.

“Walter, the Dovun Guildmaster. Seems like a big shot in the food business in Theodore.”

Guild.

In Empire terms, it was like a trading company.

Some territories in the Kingdom strictly banned commoners’ commercial activities, but still.

Anyway.

“Theodore?”

“Yeah. They say he runs several taverns and inns under the Dovun Guild in Theodore. Some towns are so full of his shops they call them Dovun Street.”

Walter had bragged about being in Theodore’s supply unit during the civil war.

He must’ve had some connection to Theodore.

‘Doesn’t matter.’

Whether he had influence in Theodore or not was irrelevant.

He was using my name in Conwell—that was a fact.

“So, what’s that guy up to here?”

Bill, still lying down, propped himself up and tilted his head repeatedly, looking troubled.

“Well… I went to the Easton Guild to find out.”

To summarize Bill’s report:

For Adeline’s coronation, the Easton Guild was planning a festival, and Walter from the Dovun Guild showed up, offering huge sponsorship and promising to bring large crowds from Theodore.

The problem was Walter’s excessive demands.

“They said they’d personally design the festival streets and main routes. The bigger issue is that after the festival, the Easton Guild would be forced to buy ingredients from farms under the Dovun Guild.”

My head felt a little hot.

I’d just gotten used to politics, and now it was commerce.

If politics reeked of filth, commerce stank of fish…

“Forcing them to buy their goods?”

Bill nodded.

…Phew, I understood correctly.

“Is that even possible? An outsider merchant, without the lord’s permission?”

“Well, uh… From what I know—Henry told me, but I can’t quite remember—Conwell has something like… merchant autonomy, or whatever it’s called.”

“….”

“…Anyway, I guess that makes it okay.”

I was bad, but Bill was Bill. A solemn silence hung for a moment.

I waved my hand and said.

“Fine, I get that Walter’s making unreasonable demands. But do they really need outside help to hold a festival? It’s weird that Conwell, the biggest commercial city, doesn’t have the resources. And I doubt the Lady would be thrilled about this.”

Bill nodded as if he understood.

…Good, I wasn’t just spouting nonsense.

“Of course, but if Easton, which has long supported Conwell’s economy, stays quiet during the new lord’s coronation, it’d look bad. Plus, the bond between Her Excellency and the Easton Guild merchants isn’t ordinary. They genuinely want to celebrate.”

“Hm.”

“And from the merchants’ perspective, with the civil war’s aftermath, skipping the festival feels like a waste when tourists are coming from everywhere. Just crunching the numbers, isn’t it better to go into debt to hold it? Ugh, I don’t know. This is when we need Henry.”

It vaguely came back to me.

Walter had said something similar to Godin about the rent.

Now that I thought about it, why was he trying to charge Godin rent while offering sponsorship?

I almost forgot the main point.

“So, why’s Walter so fixated on Godin?”

For a moment, Bill’s eyes turned fierce.

I hadn’t known him long, but it was definitely the first time I’d seen him angry.

“Rumor is Walter’s real goal is Godin’s recipes. He’s supposedly making this big investment just for that. They say he’s cunningly cornering Godin so he can’t refuse.”

Bill suddenly slapped his head with both hands.

Each hit made a smacking sound from his potato-like head.

“Pathetic jerk. Some guard I am. I’m useless when it matters.”

“….”

“I don’t know. Should I go tell the captain now? But it doesn’t seem like there’s grounds for the authorities to step in…”

I didn’t bother telling Bill that Walter was using my name.

If I had?

Instead of beating himself up like this, would he have seen it as a good excuse to ask for my help?

‘No.’

Bill might be timid and fearful, but he wasn’t weak or cowardly.

He’d been ordered by Adeline and Jayden to keep me out of the spotlight, and he’d follow that more diligently than anyone.

Even now, in this damn situation where being powerless was a sin…

I shifted my gaze from Bill to a random spot and noticed someone outside the alley.

‘Definitely yesterday…’

It was the man who’d come to ‘The Oath of Bastion’ and got scolded and chased out by Godin.

He was passing by, talking with another man around his age, and I instinctively watched their lips.

The faint sound of their voices grew closer in my ears, and soon their expressions came into view.

I felt the reward of my heightened senses once again.

“Is Godin really set on holding out till the end? I wish he wouldn’t.”

“Exactly. Those bastards. When they couldn’t get their way, now they’re dragging us into it to pressure him.”

“What can we do? Theodore’s heir is backing that guy, right? With Theodore being Conwell’s biggest ally, even the Lady can’t do much.”

“Sigh. The war’s over, and now they’re rushing in with bloodshot eyes to claim their share.”

My insides felt oddly cold.

It wasn’t betrayal toward Declan.

Yesterday, I glimpsed the world of cuisine; now, I was seeing an even stranger one.

The scars of war didn’t just leave ruins and broken people.

Even streets and people that seemed fine bore deep wounds.

‘Phew.’

The war wasn’t over.

The battle for survival among merchants, bleeding money instead of blood, was just beginning.

“Bill.”

“…Yeah?”

“Declan’s in Conwell City, right?”

“Y-Yeah, but why? You’re not planning…”

In a way, Easton was suffering because of me.

Then I should do what I can.

“See you at the coronation.”

“W-Wait! Bihen, where are you going?”

Still, I had to try that breakfast special before leaving Conwell.

* * *

Conwell City, VIP residence.

Declan was in the middle of shirtless training in his bedroom.

The scent of sweat mixed with a man’s desperate groans filled every corner of the spacious room.

“Ninety-two, seven, ninety-eiiight… Ah, ughhh…”

His nose was inches from the marble floor.

His arms trembled, his whole body teetering on the verge of collapse.

“Ooo… Ngh!”

Knock, knock. Creak—

“Lord Declan? I brought the tea you requested.”

Thud!

As the door opened and a voice came, Declan collapsed, unable to reach a hundred.

“Oh, Lord Declan! Are you—”

“Stop. That’s enough. Don’t come closer. I don’t want you to smell my stench.”

Declan slowly got up.

He deliberately didn’t turn toward the maid.

He was confident in his back muscles.

‘People always said my back’s impressive.’

Declan swept back his sweat-soaked bangs.

A satisfied smile played on his lips.

He knew from long experience that the sweatier he was, the more defined his muscles looked.

The angle was perfect.

“Leave it there and prepare some bathwater, please.”

“Yes, y-yes, sir…!”

Declan thought to himself.

The tremble in her voice.

‘Heh, as expected.’

Thud.

As soon as the door closed, he let out a sigh, releasing all the tension in his body.

‘Thought I was gonna die.’

The moment Declan turned.

‘…!’

A cold, sharp sensation touched his back.

A chill ran through his entire body.

‘A-An assassin…?! How, when…!’

A low voice came from behind.

“Shh.”

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