The Third Son of a Medieval Knight Family Chapter 39 - Tribal Conflict (4)

“Hey you bastard, how many times do I have to tell you to carry that carefully!”

“If you don’t move faster, we won’t make it in time. Move it!”

The mercenaries were bustling about, carrying luggage and shouting.

An elderly man watching them with a furrowed expression opened his mouth.

“Are you sure this is alright?”

“Yes, it’s no problem.”

“To think you must continue traveling with such violent men… aren’t you worried?”

“What is there to worry about? I simply need to fulfill my duty, that’s all.”

The young man with dull blonde hair, Anton, wore a gentle smile.

He continued speaking as he looked at the elderly man before him.

“I received a lot of help this time. Thank you, Father.”

“No, no, brother. There’s no need to say such things. It’s my joy to help a fellow brother. However…”

The aged priest in charge of Permikoff’s church looked at Anton with concern.

“I’m simply worried about a brother who is heading out to such a dangerous battlefield. Moreover, it’s a place where heathens are running rampant.”

“That’s precisely why I must go. The brothers of faith who will cross swords with those faithless hordes will surely need me.”

At Anton’s spirited words, the old man finally sighed as if resigned.

“Well, I suppose since you’ll be traveling with the Count, it won’t be that dangerous. However, if a calamity like the last time occurs again…”

“Ah, you needn’t worry. On that day, I became certain. That it wasn’t yet my fate to die, that God still has plans to use me.”

Anton continued speaking as he gazed toward the Administrator’s residence in the distance.

“Yes. There must certainly be tasks He has entrusted to me. What those might be… I’ll have to discover from now on.”

Anton’s eyes were fixed on a certain individual who would be there.

****

“I simply wish… that you would stay with us a bit longer.”

“Sigh… do you really have to leave? If my service has been lacking, please tell me freely. I’ll prepare whatever you need. So… won’t you reconsider, even now?”

Viktor looked at the two men before him and smiled faintly.

Permikoff’s Administrator, Fedor, constantly stroked his elegant mustache, making no effort to hide his regret.

Somehow, he had come to act as if he had developed a personal attachment to Viktor, who had been nothing more than a brief contractual relationship.

It was quite a change from his initial attitude, when he had unhesitatingly tested Viktor, coveting only his martial prowess in the city’s dangerous situation.

“Your Excellency. I too regret leaving, but the decision has already been made. And Bostov, I won’t forget your generous hospitality.”

Bostov, who had continuously taken care of him during his stay in the city, had hosted Viktor at his home, entertaining him lavishly like the profit-conscious merchant he was.

“I haven’t even been able to fully repay the debt of having my life saved by you…”

Having developed a certain bond with Bostov as well, Viktor couldn’t help but laugh when he saw him wrinkling the bridge of his nose in apparent regret.

“If anything, I should apologize for staying at your place and consuming your food. I’ve received more than enough in return, so don’t worry about it.”

“Sir… ugh, if you ever need help, please contact me anytime!”

“Just hearing that is enough to make me grateful.”

“The same goes for me. If things don’t work out well, feel free to come back anytime.”

Fedor said as he put on the hat he had been holding under his arm.

“Well, not that anything would go wrong for someone like you, but human affairs are unpredictable…”

“Hmm, I gratefully accept those words.”

“Hehehe… though for you, this might have been nothing more than briefly selling your martial prowess, at the very least, thanks to you, we were able to safely overcome what could have been a great disaster. You are the city’s benefactor. Once more, I sincerely thank you.”

As Fedor and Bostov simultaneously bowed their heads in respect, Viktor also straightened his attire and bowed in return.

“On the contrary, I have received much from the city. I hope this friendship will be remembered for a long time.”

“Friendship, haha… yes. I sincerely hope so. Well then, Sir Viktor. I wish you good fortune.”

“Thank you.”

With a brief farewell, Viktor left the Administrator’s office.

Lukovich was waiting for him outside.

“Lord Viktor, preparations for departure are complete.”

“Oh, thank you. By the way, you look quite impressive now.”

The Lukovich standing before Viktor was completely transformed from how he had been before entering the city.

His face, which had been constantly sallow from poor nourishment during his time as a slave, now glowed with the oils of good eating, and his physique had improved considerably, having gained enough weight to be presentable.

That wasn’t all.

Lukovich lightly thumped his chest and spoke with confidence.

“This time, I’ll do my best to be of real help to you, Lord Viktor!”

A thick gambeson, a long chain mail reaching down to his thighs, boots made of well-tanned leather, and a helmet that covered his ears—Lukovich was dressed as well as any decent knight. On top of that, he had even received training at the city’s swordsmanship guild during their short stay.

All of this had been possible thanks to Viktor’s support.

It had cost a substantial amount of money, but given Viktor’s current wealth, it was an expense he could easily afford.

In addition to the contract payment from the city, there were the enormous spoils from defeating the barbarians and additional rewards.

If their enemies had been nobles of the principality, they could have earned an incomparably larger ransom, but unfortunately, they hadn’t captured many barbarian prisoners, and there was no one to pay ransoms for them.

However, even setting that aside, Viktor had earned more money than ever before in his life.

For just one battle, it had been an excessively profitable venture.

‘In the end, war is profitable. It’s an unchanging truth, whether in that world or this one.’

Knights, merchants, nobles, mercenaries, even commoners and slaves.

War always involved massive interests and gold, and ambitious individuals of all ranks were desperate to pick up even the crumbs.

A gamble where just one success was enough to recoup one’s investment and then some.

It was no wonder that so many people flocked to battlefields like moths to a flame.

‘And in a way, I’ve also joined that current.’

Viktor looked down at himself.

He too was now equipped with much more splendid armaments than when he had just left the village.

Over a sturdy chain mail covering his entire body, he wore armor lined with iron plates on thick leather, with steel guards on his arms and legs, all finished with a surcoat draped over it.

His weapons had also been replaced, with numerous new ones attached to him.

Since his favored battle axe and mace had been damaged, he had ordered custom-made replacements to his specifications.

A two-handed battle axe and mace, both with handles and blades made from solid pieces, so heavy that ordinary people would struggle to even lift them.

In addition, there were ten javelins with wedge-shaped tips, and a belt made of cowhide wrapped around his waist to hold them.

Viktor’s already intimidating appearance had now become nothing short of a walking human weapon.

‘I’ve spent quite a lot of the money I earned, but… this much investment is necessary.’

As the battlefield ahead was expected to be even more dangerous and intense, investing in equipment to protect himself was not at all wasteful.

Since he could always earn more money, he wasn’t troubled by the greater-than-expected expenditure.

As Viktor took a step, a heavy sound echoed throughout the Administrator’s residence.

“I’m counting on you. Now, shall we depart?”

“Yes, here you are.”

After putting on the helmet Lukovich handed him and mounting Podaga who was waiting outside, a knight approached politely and spoke.

“Let’s go. The Count is waiting.”

“Hmm.”

As they approached the city gate, the noise of a crowd became apparent.

Citizens could be seen lining both sides of the street, pausing whatever they were doing to watch.

“Sir, over there.”

A considerable number of mercenaries were swaggering and chattering as they pleased, while in front of them, knights had gathered and were looking around.

And at the very front of the procession, Count Yakobski sat proudly mounted on his horse.

Beside him, as if guarding him, the elderly knight Mikhail and Anton stood quietly.

The Count, seemingly spotting Viktor, shouted with a hearty smile.

“Sir! I’ve been waiting for you, haha.”

“Your Excellency, I apologize for the delay.”

“No, no. So, did you finish saying your farewells to the Administrator?”

“Yes. No problem.”

“Is that so? That man may not show it, but he’s quite petty. He may have seemed sweet to you, but… hmm, anyway, let’s depart now!”

As the two joined the ranks, Mikhail approached from the side.

“Sir Viktor. You’ve made a good choice! You won’t regret it.”

“Sir Mikhail.”

“It’s reassuring to have a warrior like you on our side. I look forward to working with you.”

In the end, Viktor had chosen to join the Count’s army.

After careful consideration, despite the risks, the rewards were quite appealing.

With the Count, who was certain to succeed to the position of Grand Prince, deliberately offering to feed him opportunities, there was no reason to refuse out of fear of future entanglements.

‘I can think about those things later.’

Viktor could feel something stirring and surging within his heart.

After single-handedly breaking through Ibuti’s forces and defeating the barbarians, Viktor had finally come to recognize the identity of what he had accidentally discovered, only after his conversation with Mikhail.

It was ambition.

Viktor was now looking to higher places.

‘Since falling into this medieval world, I’ve been living like flowing water. I had no goal. Just, I was born so I lived. Just, I was born so I wanted to eat well and live well. That was all.’

But when he broke free from the shackles of the village and properly stepped into the world, Viktor finally realized.

With his abilities, he might be able to rise as high as he wanted.

If so, he truly wanted to find out just how far his abilities could take him!

‘I’ve been dropped into this world. I have strength and ability. There’s no reason not to challenge myself!’

Now the opportunity had come.

The insignificant third son rotting away in the countryside was no more.

Viktor was determined to see how far he could go.

‘This battlefield will be the stage for the real test of how far I can go.’

Achieving merit, receiving a domain, gaining a title, or perhaps even beyond that…

In Viktor’s heart, which had been living without much thought in the given environment, a clear goal was finally being inscribed.

‘I’ll climb as high as I can!’

In the eyes of the confident knight, a flame named ambition was now burning brightly.