The Third Son of a Medieval Knight Family Chapter 37 - Tribal Conflict (2)

Viktor looked at the elderly knight before him, reflecting on the events of the past few days.

Many things had happened in such a short time, making it a rather perplexing period even for someone as patient as him.

But if asked whether it was beneficial, that wasn’t entirely untrue either…

‘The victory banquet was a complete disaster.’

The catalyst, of course, was the Administrator.

Though the strange misunderstanding between them had been resolved, that didn’t mean the Administrator’s anger toward the Count had subsided.

The banquet wasn’t particularly different from how people in the village celebrated.

Eating voraciously, drinking excessively, and getting completely intoxicated was the custom for banquets in this era.

The only difference was that the quality of the food enjoyed by city nobles was on an entirely different level compared to the dishes served in the impoverished village.

And perhaps, unlike his homeland where alcohol wasn’t provided infinitely due to poverty, here there was an enormous quantity served—enough that all participants could get completely drunk without the alcohol ever running short.

The Administrator, drunk to the point where alcohol had gone to his head, looked at the Count with a flushed face and posed a question.

“Count… what do you… plan to do now?”

The Count, also thoroughly soaked in alcohol, answered with bleary eyes.

“Hmm… gather mercenaries… here… and head east… hiccup!”

“Oh! So you plan to… fight those barbarian bastards! Hiccup!”

“That’s right… and for that… I need strength. A lot of strength!”

“…So that’s why you made moves on… our knight behind my back?”

“…Administrator, what did you… just say?”

“At the very least! You should have given me… some notice! How much do you… look down on me!”

“Someone restrain the Administrator!”

“Your Excellency, Your Excellency! Oh my goodness, please!”

“Count! Your dignity! Everyone is watching!”

The sight of the Administrator and the Count, drunk, throwing punches at each other was a rare spectacle indeed, but Viktor found his appetite completely gone and had to put down the glass he was holding.

Honestly, watching grown men fighting crudely while calling his name was not a particularly reassuring feeling.

Feeling as though he’d become a woman caught in a love triangle, Viktor had to furrow his brow.

‘I don’t care about anything else, but I really can’t stand them constantly saying Viktor, Viktor.’

He quietly rose from his seat and left the banquet hall.

The hierarchy of the principality was truly a mess.

At drinking gatherings, there was no father or son when things got out of hand.

Rather, drinking to the point of becoming that intoxicated was considered manly and virtuous.

‘I wonder if I should call it admirable that they still bury what happens at a drinking party despite becoming like that…’

At any rate, Viktor had no intention whatsoever of participating in such a boorish culture.

He suddenly looked up at the sky.

An incredible number of stars, looking as though they might pour down, were each shining as they gazed down upon the earth.

As he was blankly appreciating the stars for a moment:

“Sir Viktor.”

“Hmm?”

Someone was approaching Viktor.

When he removed the hood he was wearing, dull blonde hair and freckles came into view.

The young man carefully paid his respects and spoke.

“Sir, I’m not sure if you remember me… I’m Anton, the priest who accompanied Count Yakobski on this campaign.”

Priest Anton looked up at Viktor with gleaming eyes.

“Ah, it’s you, Father.”

As Viktor bowed his head in respect, Anton frantically waved his hands.

“Ah, Sir! There’s no need to do that for me. Please raise your head.”

“Not at all. How could I possibly be disrespectful to you, Father?”

Viktor answered with utmost courtesy while examining the priest before him.

Although it wasn’t really Viktor’s place to say, Anton seemed like quite a young priest.

Unlike the Orthodox priests who had visited the village, who were all quite elderly and had long beards, Anton had a short beard and smooth skin.

“Father, is there something you need from me?”

There was nothing wrong with treating priests respectfully.

When Viktor asked solemnly, Anton blushed and hastily replied.

“Ah, I’m embarrassed to come to you so rudely without an appointment… but actually, I had a message that I absolutely needed to deliver to you.”

“A message…?”

Anton nodded.

“The Archdiocese in Rurik is showing great interest in what you’ve accomplished, Sir. They wonder if God truly sent angels to whisper to you…”

Viktor’s face twisted strangely.

‘So this is how terrifying it is when rumors get distorted…!’

What had initially been nothing more than the mercenaries present at the scene babbling whatever came to mind had now flowed from the Count to Permikoff, and now even to the Archdiocese in the capital.

And in a strange form that was completely detached from the truth!

Priest Anton clasped his hands tightly and exclaimed with light shining in his eyes.

“Sir, Sir! There might be those at the Archdiocese who doubt the miracle you showed, but at least I, who was directly present at the scene… I believe in you!”

‘What?’

“If it wasn’t a miracle, if it wasn’t a blessing from God, then what else could it be…! Sir, don’t worry. If the Archdiocese ever calls for you, I will certainly testify.”

“…May I ask you one thing, Father?”

“You may ask anything!”

“Did you… did you tell these stories to the Count?”

“Ah, the Count has completely fallen for you. Hahaha, I did add a few comments. When he asked if it was truly a miracle, I said without a doubt!”

‘So this person was the culprit.’

Viktor sighed.

This priest, who had significantly contributed to the Count’s strange advances, seemed to know nothing as he continued to rant about God’s teachings with an innocent face.

‘Well, I suppose one would need to be like that to accompany soldiers to the battlefield.’

Not just anyone could be a campaign priest.

First, one needed to be learned.

Campaign priests were also tasked with recording events that occurred on the battlefield.

And above all, one needed burning faith and passion.

Without that, it wouldn’t be easy to follow the harsh and brutal battlefield while fulfilling a priest’s duties.

In that regard, Anton was…

‘Not entirely trustworthy, but I can’t really fault him.’

Unfortunately, Anton didn’t seem to have the discernment to distinguish a true miracle, but he clearly seemed to be a good priest.

Viktor nodded and made a decision internally.

Anton’s role was now crucial to correct all these misunderstandings.

“Father, would you please listen to me for a moment?”

As Viktor began to speak with a serious face, Anton swallowed and nodded.

“The truth is… I have never experienced angels whispering to me or God bestowing a veil of protection upon me.”

“…Sir, but…!”

“Please listen. Even if God had truly bestowed such undeserved grace upon me, how could I, a mere human, be certain about matters governed by God?”

“…!”

“I am neither a theologian well-versed in theology, nor a priest filled with the Holy Spirit. But at least as a mere believer who lives faithfully as a servant of God, I dare say, I am not arrogant enough to be certain that I have been blessed by God or to boast about it to others. I believe you will understand this heart of mine.”

Viktor bowed his head deeply.

“…!!”

Anton looked at the back of Viktor’s head and felt indescribable emotions enveloping his entire body.

The knight who had achieved a great feat and was about to make his name resound throughout the principality was bowing his head without hesitation even to a humble priest like him.

‘This knight… is a true brother in faith! Ah, how long has it been since I’ve seen such radiant faith…!’

He was on an entirely different level compared to the nobles, merchants, and knights of the principality he had seen thus far.

Moreover, those humble yet theologically flawless words—how were they?

Such words couldn’t simply be cobbled together at random.

Without studying God’s words for a long time and deeply contemplating faith, one could never easily say such things!

As Anton nodded vigorously with an expression steeped in emotion, Viktor watched him surreptitiously and delivered the final blow.

“So, Father, I would ask that you refrain from telling those around you, including the Count, that I received such a miracle. Furthermore, especially to the Count, please convey that I am not such a faith-filled knight. Will you grant my request?”

As Anton etched Viktor’s face, shadowed by moonlight, into his eyes, he nodded vehemently.

“Sir! Your words move my heart! I’m utterly ashamed. I understand, leave it to me! Your deep faith, even if others don’t know, I will! I will certainly remember it!”

‘I wonder if he understood correctly…’

Viktor, who had been considering whether to speak more directly, eventually shook his head.

This was enough for the innocent priest before him.

It seemed unlikely that this priest would go around talking about miracles anymore.

‘And I’d also like if the Count would stop that faith talk now.’

Viktor glanced at Anton with a tired face, then took his leave.

Though he had slipped out of the banquet hall secretly, it probably wouldn’t be an issue.

Thus, the victory banquet of that day concluded.

According to what he heard later, the Administrator and the Count, along with their subordinate mercenaries and knights, had a massive brawl, after which they agreed to completely bury the matter for the sake of both sides’ dignity.

Unfortunately, however, the story spread throughout the entire city to the extent that it reached even Viktor’s ears, who wasn’t particularly attuned to rumors, and now the Administrator’s nickname had become “the Brave One.”

It was supposedly a nickname honoring the Administrator who was valiant enough to throw punches at the Count, but honestly, to Viktor, it seemed more like mockery.

Also, whether his talk with Anton had an effect or not, the noise about miracles and such that had been loud for a while began to subside.

On the other hand, it seemed that there were a few more people who looked at Viktor with even more reverent eyes than before, but in any case, he could be satisfied just with the strange rumors disappearing.

And finally, the Count ceased his strange courtship and began to make orthodox moves, which led to today.

It was two days ago that Mikhail sent an invitation asking if he could spend some time with him before meeting the Count directly.

Mikhail welcomed him with movements closer to those of a noble than a knight.

The manner in which he received people, the way he poured tea—in all these things, there was a natural elegance that made one suspect he might have originally been from a good family.

The elderly knight began to speak as he poured tea with skilled hands.

“Sir, I’ll get straight to the point.”

“I’m listening.”

“I’ve believed from the beginning that the Count made a wrong judgment this time.”

“…!”

“All this time, from our position as those who were saved, we’ve been quite rude. Let me apologize on behalf of him.”

Sir Mikhail bowed his head neatly.

“Rudeness? Not at all. Sir, please raise your head.”

Viktor waved his hand and accepted the apology.

The Count must have been quite wounded in his pride, so in essence, that apology represented the Count’s true sentiment.

There was no reason to play hard to get.

Viktor didn’t want to be at odds with the Count, nor did he want to deepen their relationship.

However, Mikhail’s next words were enough to surprise even Viktor.

“So, now we’d like to make a proposal to you in a more traditional manner. Let me tell you first. If you join the Count’s campaign, he intends to entrust you with command of a part of the army.”

“Hmm…”

“In addition, I’ve learned a bit about you. Sir Viktor of House Kobarov. That your family’s domain was located at the eastern edge of the Uley region, and that your house was brought to extinction by the barbarian attack.”

‘Is he trying to place the responsibility for the war on me…?’

When Viktor momentarily glared at him with sharp eyes, Mikhail quickly continued.

“I apologize for investigating your background behind your back like this. But please understand. It wasn’t to harass you, but solely to provide you with appropriate compensation for joining the campaign.”

“Please explain.”

“The Count intends to hold a knighting ceremony for you, regardless of whether this venture succeeds or fails.”

“…”

“And separately from bestowing a knighting ceremony upon you, he has stated that he will actively cooperate in reclaiming your family’s domain.”

“…!”

“Moreover, these are just some of what you rightfully deserve. The Count… has promised that if you join the campaign and achieve merit, he will grant you other lands in the east. And for all these territories, he does not require… your loyalty.”

“…!!”

It was truly a series of shocking statements.

To properly establish oneself as a knight, receiving a knighting ceremony was essential.

But holding a knighting ceremony was expensive and consumed various resources, so it was typically bestowed only on loyal knights who were definitely beneficial to the family.

Receiving such a ceremony as compensation for joining a campaign wasn’t a bad thing at all.

Most knights dreamed of earning their knighthood through such activities.

In addition, the offer to help reclaim his family’s domain was quite an attractive proposal.

Although it was a poor village in the countryside, being granted a village as a domain was by no means an easy feat.

A domain was truly a symbol of success.

It wasn’t something that just anyone could casually mention.

There was a world of difference between a knight with a domain and one without.

This proposal had considerable appeal even for Viktor, who didn’t have much attachment to his family’s domain.

‘But who would have thought he’d say something so absurd that it makes everything before seem like mere extras.’

He would give Viktor other territories in the east.

And without a vassalage contract!

That statement was essentially equivalent to saying he would make Viktor an independent lord.

Setting aside whether the Count had such authority, it was clearly an extraordinary proposal.

Therefore, Viktor was able to quickly cool down as if he’d been doused with cold water.

‘Am I supposed to believe this…?’

It was… too absurd a proposal to accept readily.

To become an independent lord without a vassalage contract in exchange for joining a campaign once and fighting?

It was something that would be criticized for lack of plausibility even in a children’s fairy tale.

The world wasn’t that accommodating.

It was commonplace to hear stories of knights facing death multiple times and serving as champions for high nobles just to receive a single shabby village.

‘Count Yakobski… is he just making this up?’

Viktor’s eyes began to narrow.