The Third Son of a Medieval Knight Family Chapter 7 - Prologue (6)

Lukovich looked at the man before him.

Viktor Kobarov.

The third son of Lord Kobarov and a pitiful man who had never been allowed outside the village due to the vigilance of Igor, the eldest son.

The village was so small that he had encountered him a few times before, but this was the first time they had actually spoken.

A massive build and intimidating eyes.

Wearing well-maintained armor and carrying a battle axe at his side, he looked every bit the epitome of a knight.

Of course, the only real knight in the village was Lord Kobarov, but honestly, Viktor looked more knightly than Lord Kobarov himself.

Lukovich had been extremely cautious around him at first.

The Kobarov bloodline produced nothing but cruel and violent warriors.

Especially Viktor, who by all outward appearances, seemed to be the most frightening and intimidating warrior among them.

But surprisingly, the more they talked, the more Lukovich was astounded by the intelligence he sensed from Viktor.

Since becoming a slave bound to the village, it had been a very long time since Lukovich had met someone so eloquent and intelligent.

Without realizing it, Lukovich was gradually being drawn to the man before him.

****

Viktor happily mounted his horse.

He had become quite familiar with horseback riding by now.

True to his bloodline, despite never having ridden a horse in his life before, he now carried himself like someone who had been riding for years.

The weight of the armor didn’t trouble him at all.

There was hardly any difference whether he wore armor or not.

Viktor began to trot slowly.

From beside him, the man who had introduced himself as Lukovich called out.

“Lord Viktor! Your horsemanship has improved greatly!”

“Thank you for the compliment. But I’m still just a novice who’s only been riding for a few days, so I have much to learn.”

“Not at all! Your riding skill is already comparable to many of the warriors I’ve seen. Truly! Haha!”

“Thank you. Your praise makes me happy.”

Though he smiled kindly on the outside, Viktor wasn’t actually that pleased.

He wasn’t foolish enough to be swayed by such words, and in truth, he found them somewhat uncomfortable.

‘I wish he would speak to me more plainly…’

The difference in social status was an immense barrier in this era.

One wrong word to a noble could result in severe punishment.

Behind Viktor, two other men followed on horseback in addition to Lukovich.

They were experienced hunters assigned to scouting duties alongside Viktor.

They were also supposed to act as Viktor’s guards if necessary.

Viktor had tried to befriend them, but there was still quite a distance between them.

While Lukovich was relatively talkative, the other two were rather taciturn.

‘Quiet people are rare in this village.’

Not that it particularly displeased him.

In fact, silence suited Viktor’s temperament better than idle chatter.

The group passed through a nameless forest where they had been patrolling and entered into a shallow hill.

Though barely a week had passed since he was assigned scouting duties, Viktor had already grown quite accustomed to them.

When he first ventured outside the village, he could barely contain his excitement, but now he knew how to prepare a campsite and maintain his equipment with reasonable competence.

“We’ll rest here for today!”

At Viktor’s command, the three men promptly dismounted and began preparing the camp.

Viktor also dismounted and started surveying the surroundings.

“That’s it, that’s it. Good girl, Podaga. Here, eat.”

The name Podaga wasn’t one Viktor had given.

Unfortunately, the horse already had a name.

Even more unfortunately, once the mission ended, Podaga would have to be returned to the stable.

Viktor had no idea where Lord Kobarov had obtained this horse, but Podaga was quite intelligent, having been trained as a warhorse.

‘If I do escape, I should take this one with me…’

While Viktor was entertaining these dangerous thoughts and picking up the firewood he had gathered, Lukovich approached.

“Lord Viktor. Please let us handle this. Sit and rest.”

“I can’t do that. How could I let you all work while I do nothing?”

When Viktor spoke in a kind voice, Lukovich felt a chill run down his spine, despite having experienced this several times already.

Nobles, especially those from the North, never spoke kindly.

They believed that speaking roughly and forcefully to subordinates maintained their dignity, and they always tried to speak and act like warriors.

Having served other members of the Kobarov family before, Lukovich found this attitude rather uncomfortable.

“Please don’t say that and just rest. I didn’t want to say this, but are you perhaps uncomfortable with us serving you? If there’s anything lacking, we can improve…”

Seeing Lukovich painfully forcing out these words through his fear, Viktor felt the need to be honest with him.

“No, no. Hmm, to be honest… I simply want to learn how to set up camp.”

“Pardon?”

Lukovich tilted his head at this unexpected answer.

Why on earth would a noble want to learn how to set up camp?

“You act as if our family is some grand nobility. A noble born in this small village would do well to learn and observe everything.”

When Viktor spoke so frankly, Lukovich was horrified and tried to dissuade him.

“No, how can you say such a terrible thing…!”

“Why, are you going to report me?”

“No, no, how could I… absolutely not!”

“Good, I’ll trust you then.”

Though Viktor spoke lightly, Lukovich was completely drained.

What kind of person was this?

Was this some new form of torment?

While Lukovich was pondering, Viktor continued.

“Your attitude might have been well-received by the higher-ups in the family, but at least while you’re with me, it would be better to speak more honestly.”

“Ah, yes…”

“Let’s be frank—our family isn’t anything special. If anyone is remarkable, it’s Lord Kobarov, not me. I’m not even a knight and I’m just the third son, aren’t I?”

Lukovich was at a loss for how to respond to this, but Viktor didn’t seem to expect an answer as he naturally continued.

“Learning anything can be helpful. I’m not destined to travel elegantly with servants in tow, so learning how to camp would be beneficial, wouldn’t it? Do you understand now?”

Lukovich was shocked by Viktor’s words.

‘Can such a noble really exist?’

From Lukovich’s experience traveling throughout the principality as a peddler, the one thing he had consistently observed about nobles was that they all hated doing things themselves.

Why should I bother when slaves or servants will do it? How undignified.

That was the fundamental mindset embedded in the noble class.

And it wasn’t much different for knights or warrior-nobles.

They were eager to slay enemies and display martial prowess, but had no interest in the supporting tasks, such as maintaining armor or tending to wounds.

Let alone setting up camp or cooking simple meals.

Yet the man before him, Viktor, was willing to learn even tasks considered beneath him.

And he didn’t have to explain any of this—he could have simply barked orders—but instead he remained consistently generous and calm in his speech.

‘Is he really Lord Kobarov’s son…?’

Having unintentionally entertained such irreverent thoughts, Lukovich was startled and shook his head, bowing low.

“Yes, I understand. I’m sorry for disturbing your mood unnecessarily.”

“Not at all. Well, let’s go. It seems our friends have already finished their work while we were talking.”

The other two men had silently completed their tasks while they were conversing.

Lukovich felt cold sweat running down his back.

While Viktor could chat or do whatever he pleased, Lukovich did not have that luxury.

“I still have much to learn. Please help me along the way.”

“…! If there’s anything I can help with, I’d be delighted!”

But that was that, and this was this.

Lukovich had to admit that conversing with this generous noble was worth enduring any criticism from his colleagues.

****

While Viktor was having a productive time on his first outing, and Viscount Odor of Radovitz was venting his anger and frustration on an innocent servant, what was the Kobarov family doing?

Nothing.

Or more precisely, they were preparing for a siege, but that was all.

They were completely unaware that the Grand Chief in the east had raised a massive army, that they were charging fiercely toward the Uley region, or that the situation was spiraling toward a critical moment where they could be surrounded from both sides.

Of course, they couldn’t have known even if they wanted to…

Igor was eating borscht with a perfectly comfortable expression.

Beside him, Nikita was drinking alcohol with a languid look.

With a reddened face, Nikita suddenly mumbled a question.

“Brother, by the way.”

“Hmm?”

“Why do you care so much about Viktor?”

Igor looked at Nikita.

Though it wasn’t obvious, he was subtly concerned about Viktor.

Igor smirked as he spread a generous amount of borscht on bread and popped it into his mouth.

“Well… he’s our brother, isn’t that natural?”

“Cut it out.”

Nikita growled, having moved closer.

“He’s the son of some unknown woman. Our situation is different. If it were the fourth or youngest son, I might understand, but why Viktor specifically?”

“Move away a bit. You smell.”

At Igor’s still casual words, Nikita twisted his face in displeasure.

“Us… right. His situation is different from ours.”

Igor rolled the word “us” around in his mouth.

It didn’t have a particularly pleasant ring to it.

Though Nikita appeared to be submissive to him, he was constantly looking for opportunities to claim the succession.

That was understandable. It was practically instinctual.

But what about Viktor?

‘He’s different. That’s why he must die.’

Viktor had never once shown any outward ambition.

No, not just succession—he hadn’t taken any action to secure a position in the family at all.

He just followed the priest around like a shadow.

Did Viktor even realize how much that irritated him?

‘There’s no such thing as a man without desire. That’s why those who hide it are more dangerous.’

On the other hand, what about Nikita before him?

This man glaring at his brother was the very embodiment of greed.

But that made him easy to keep under control.

He was easy to manipulate, stupid, and still of the same blood after all.

Igor decided to show a little more generosity to his brother.

“Well… Viktor has never once received training since his birth.”

“So what?”

“How well do you think someone like that would fare on such an intense battlefield?”

“…Brother, are you possibly?”

Igor grinned.

That was enough of a hint.

The rest would be left for Nikita to imagine and come to his own conclusions.

Indeed, as Igor expected, Nikita was making an expression that seemed both displeased yet strangely relieved.

‘He thinks Viktor isn’t warrior-like enough, the idiot.’

Igor smiled with satisfaction.

Everything was proceeding exactly as he had intended.

The villagers, the family members, and even his powerful father…

There was no one anywhere who was smarter or better at reading the situation than him.

‘I am controlling this situation! I can manipulate all of your emotions!’

“Hahahahaha!”

In the end, Igor couldn’t hold back and burst into laughter.