The Third Son of a Medieval Knight Family Chapter 68 - Knight of Ascension (3)

Viktor was an object of jealousy and envy to the Count’s young knights.

However, strictly speaking, the proportion of jealousy was higher than envy.

His rescue of the Count and some surviving knights at the Battle of Permikoff remained a legendary achievement, but most of the young knights had been hastily dispatched from their territories afterward.

Only a few had directly experienced Viktor’s martial prowess.

These men showed reverence for Viktor upon hearing stories from senior knights and their lord, but at the same time, jealousy was growing luxuriantly in one corner of their hearts.

This was inevitable, because Viktor was too… young to simply revere.

Of course, his large build and overwhelming charismatic appearance were intense enough to make one forget he was barely an adult, but young was still young.

Watching Viktor, who was merely their peer, display tremendous prowess and receive the Count’s favor, the young knights couldn’t help but have the youthful, childish thought: “Couldn’t I have been in that position?”

It was the unavoidable fate of those creatures called knights.

And watching the senior knights who had been rescued follow Viktor almost fanatically, they couldn’t dare show it openly, but their jealousy had risen almost to their chins after the Leshy incident.

-That shabby-looking tree spirit, I could have beaten it too!

-I have some skill in combat wrestling too. It’s just mercenary scum exaggerating their stories anyway. Birds of a feather with someone of unknown origins.

-Hey… but didn’t Sir Mikhail vouch for it? Everyone should tone it down a bit…

-Do you have no backbone? Our lord’s gaze, which once cherished us the most, now turns only toward that fellow! This is an intolerable situation!

Of course, there were those who tried to stop their rampage, but unfortunately, it wasn’t easy to extinguish the anger of young men who felt their lord’s favor had been stolen.

‘I thought everyone had come to their senses after this battle… damn it!’

Facing the eastern lords, Krupin bit his lips as he looked around at his friends.

Despite his desperate protests that it wouldn’t do, those who had come to meet the eastern lords—practically no different from beggars—wore sullen expressions, but in Krupin’s view, this was merely discomfort arising from engaging in unknightly behavior.

Krupin recalled the fierce argument he’d had with his friends just recently.

-Don’t you understand even after fighting alongside him? It’s best to stop the foolish act of making Sir Viktor an enemy. He’s a rising sun. Even if you don’t like him, you should wait for the sun to set. If you attack now, you’ll only be burned away!

-Anyone watching would think you’re Sir Viktor’s relative.

-Hey! Are you really going to keep this up?! Don’t you realize this isn’t just about Sir Viktor, but behavior that harms the Count as well!

-Sir Krupin, no, Iakov, my friend. It’s precisely because we fought alongside him that I’ve become more certain. If we leave that fellow alone like this, there won’t be any place left for the likes of us. Did you hear the rumors? That our lord promised him an enormous title.

-Well, he achieved such merit…

-It doesn’t make sense from the start! Did he fight alone? We also risked our lives fighting there. Our lord’s eyes must be temporarily clouded. If not Sir Mikhail, then perhaps, but we can’t let all our achievements be stolen by someone of such unknown origins. We need to put him in his place, even now.

-…This is really driving me crazy. Fine, then I’ll accompany you to that place too. I don’t want to watch you idiots get yourselves killed doing something stupid.

Krupin sighed looking at his friends who absolutely wouldn’t listen.

But he couldn’t abandon them either.

Like it or not, these were friends he’d been with since his page days, precious connections he’d need to rely on in the harsh noble society ahead.

Knights’ friendships were typically like that.

Betraying comrades who had been together since page days was difficult to imagine.

Krupin glared at the fat-bodied noble spitting before him.

That pig-like fellow had surely incited his friends.

‘I have no choice but to cut this off here…’

Just as he swallowed his saliva with grim resolve, Baron Amur finally finished his words and gestured toward them.

“Hehehe… Well, no matter how great that knight bastard is, he doesn’t have only allies on his side. Isn’t that right, Sirs?”

“…Hmph.”

A representative figure among his close friends snorted and approached the lords, uncrossing his arms.

Though some lords seemed angered by his rude attitude, Baron Amur merely watched the young knight with no change in expression.

The knight slowly looked around before opening his mouth.

“We agree with the opinions of those present here. I too feel the need to break Sir Viktor’s momentum. But let’s be clear about one thing. We are the Count’s knights. While we might attack him personally, we absolutely will not engage in any behavior that would harm His Excellency.”

‘How is attacking Sir Viktor not behavior that harms our lord…’

Krupin shook his head listening to his comrade’s words, but no matter how much he spoke, it wouldn’t get through.

To them, Viktor was nothing more or less than a wary, unwelcome intruder from outside.

Baron Amur clapped his hands in response.

“Of course, of course. I know well that the Sirs are faithful knights. We don’t need anything else, just lend your strength to removing that knight Viktor. That much will be sufficient.”

“…Baron Amur. I don’t quite understand… how exactly can they help?”

When one lord posed a question, Baron Amur tilted his head for a moment, then opened his mouth with a smile.

“Haha, think of it this way. When that fellow’s origin issue breaks, these knights actively make a big deal of it. Like they can’t fight alongside someone from the family that was the source of the war. If it were just one or two, it might be different, but if they all speak that way, the Count will have no choice but to worry.”

“But even so, could the Count really dismiss Sir Viktor?”

“That’s not particularly important. The significance lies in making it impossible for the Count to decide easily. And who knows? At minimum, there’s a high chance the veil of consistent favor will be lifted.”

Baron Amur replied with a sidelong glance at the knights.

Finally unable to bear it, Krupin stepped forward.

“Those words cannot be easily overlooked.”

“And you are?”

“I am called Iakov Krupin. Baron, you’ve just told us to directly criticize Sir Viktor, but this carries great risk and has a high possibility of causing internal strife within the Count’s forces. These are difficult words to follow.”

Krupin quickly continued before the Baron could respond.

“I’m sorry, but we cannot take any direct actions or make statements. I’m very concerned that conflicts between knights might cause harm to our lord. I trust the Baron will understand this sufficiently.”

As he strongly asserted this while glaring at his friends, the atmosphere in the meeting hall instantly turned cold.

Baron Amur remained silent for a moment with a smiling face before opening his mouth.

“…Sir Krupin? So you mean you have no intention of cooperating with us?”

“That’s not it. You don’t need to listen to that friend of mine. He’s naturally timid.”

“Hey!”

“We can handle that much. It’s not like we’re directly challenging him to a duel—we’re just questioning propriety, so there’s no problem.”

Krupin glared at his friend as if he’d devour him, but it was completely useless.

The Baron watched this scene leisurely for a moment before slowly waving his hand.

“Good, then it’s decided. Opinions can differ, after all. I hope you handle it well.”

“You needn’t worry. Then we’ll withdraw. I don’t want to stay here long.”

“Look at that insolent fellow!”

“Baron, can we really trust those people!”

The lords cried out, but Baron Amur remained unshaken.

He rubbed his temples for a moment, then slowly nodded.

“Everyone, calm down. It’s good to see young men overflowing with spirit. I hope that spirit serves them well when facing that fellow too. You may withdraw.”

“We apologize for the rudeness.”

The knight bowed his head and forcibly dragged away Krupin, who was still glaring at him with murderous eyes.

As soon as they left the meeting hall, the Baron slowly began to relax his hands.

He had gripped so hard that blood was beading on his palms.

‘Insolent bastards… this one and that one… they don’t even consider the eastern nobles worthy of notice? I’ll show them clearly… this is our land. I’ll make it so no one can take it away!’

The young knights who had acted so arrogantly, Viktor who had looked down on him, and the Count and southern castle lord who led them.

Recalling the images of outsiders passing through his mind, the Baron slowly downed the strong liquor on the table.

---

“…Think about it one more time. I absolutely cannot understand. If you really want to push Sir Viktor aside, you should think about achieving more military merit instead of doing such petty things.”

“Iakov! Don’t speak carelessly. And you heard it too. Honestly, do you think it makes sense to favor someone from the family that caused the war?”

Krupin ground his teeth looking at his friends.

They seemed blinded by jealousy, unable to see anything.

‘These bastards, don’t they have any idea what will happen if they do as that pig said?’

Directly criticizing Viktor’s origins meant openly making him an enemy.

In other words, creating an opposing faction—and honestly, the end seemed obvious.

Though he might hesitate due to the origin issue, Viktor, who had been consistently winning from Permikoff to Radovitz and receiving absolute support from the Count as well as the knights, didn’t seem likely to be broken by something like this.

‘In the end, there’s a high chance of being used briefly and then discarded… why can’t they see that!’

The possibility of Baron Something-or-other becoming their backing was almost nil.

Even if he did so, these men wouldn’t even try to accept it.

No matter what anyone said, their loyalty to the Count was genuine, and they had resolved to spend their lives advancing under him.

‘I don’t know anymore… I need to save myself at least.’

Finally, Krupin hardened his resolve.

He had no hobby of continuing to hold onto the oars when the ship was obviously going to sink.

If he accidentally incurred the Count’s wrath, he might live a life of wandering rural villages instead of advancing, let alone succeeding.

“…If your judgment is that poor. I don’t know, handle it yourselves now. I won’t be involved.”

“Iakov, you…”

“I’ll keep the last loyalty as a friend. I won’t go around talking about it unnecessarily. But I sincerely tell you, it’s better not to get involved in such ridiculous schemes.”

“…”

“…I’m leaving.”

One knight stopped Krupin as he turned away.

“What, if you’ve changed your mind even now… ugh!”

Krupin’s eyes widened in disbelief, then he slowly collapsed.

“Traitor. Did you think we wouldn’t know you were planning to crawl away and tattle?”

“You… you!”

“I’ll also keep the last loyalty as a friend. Stay somewhere quiet and cool your head for a while, Iakov. When you return, everything will be finished well.”

Thud!

Krupin, struck in the head once more, couldn’t endure and collapsed.

The knight who had once been his friend watched this scene and muttered coldly.

“Don’t worry, we don’t trust that Baron bastard at all either. We’ll regain our lord’s favor and put that fellow of unknown origins back in his place. Everything is for our lord!”

The knight’s eyes burned thickly with jealousy and ambition.

---

A rumor began spreading rapidly through Radovitz Castle.

Someone tilted their head upon hearing the rumor, someone raised their voice, and someone else turned deathly pale.

And finally, Viktor also encountered that rumor.

“L-Lord Viktor… what should we do now…!”

Paying little attention to his deathly pale servant, Viktor muttered calmly.

“Right, there’s a need to weed them out before departure.”

Viktor looked up at the empty air.

He seemed to see the illusion of scheming blades aimed at him, but he let out a chuckle.

It was truly small, crude… and so rusty it was pathetic.