The Third Son of a Medieval Knight Family Chapter 77 - Knight of Ascension (12)

When Viktor entered the great hall, the audience had already begun.

He quietly checked his attire and approached Mikhail, who was standing behind the Count.

“I’m a bit late.”

“Sir, welcome.”

Mikhail smiled slightly as if the lateness didn’t matter at all, then moved aside to make room for Viktor.

Though he had beaten the Count’s young knights to a pulp, fortunately the incident hadn’t made his relationship with Mikhail awkward.

‘Sir Mikhail turned out to be more broad-minded than I thought.’

He later learned that most of the Count’s young knights who had been entrusted as pages from childhood had received teachings from Mikhail.

Just as the young knights respected and revered Mikhail, he too cared for them, so Viktor had once worried whether this incident might have angered him.

But Mikhail was only pleased.

‘You did well. I thought those lads were still nothing but young pages. Now that they’ve become proper knights of the Count’s house, such childish behavior can no longer be forgiven. It must have been a great lesson for them.’

‘…’

Viktor was the one who was rather taken aback.

As Viktor was briefly lost in thought recalling that incident, someone tapped him, so he glanced over to look at them.

“Oh, Sir Krupin.”

“It’s been a while, Sir Viktor.”

It was Krupin, who had rarely shown himself in official settings since the so-called trial by combat incident.

Seeing him after a long time, he was neatly dressed and had a cheerful expression.

“You look to be in good spirits.”

“…I’m only ashamed whenever I think of that incident, Sir. And…thank you.”

“Well, it’s all in the past, so don’t worry about it.”

The foolish young men who had ambushed their own friend, criticized Viktor in public, and crossed the Count were still under disciplinary confinement.

The enraged Count had even made the shocking statement that he would revoke the knighthood of those who lost the trial, but with petitions from knights including Mikhail and even the betrayed Krupin, it didn’t go as far as revoking their knighthood.

‘Even so, their future prospects are unclear…’

But that couldn’t be helped, could it?

Viktor glanced at the young man who ultimately couldn’t completely abandon his old friends and continued.

“More than that, how’s your health?”

“Ah, much better.”

Krupin moved his body energetically and smiled.

“But what about you, Sir Viktor? I heard you’re still having trouble repairing your armor and acquiring new weapons…”

At his words, Viktor’s brow furrowed slightly.

“The repairs are more or less finished, but…no matter how much I look, I can’t find weapons I like.”

Not only the castle’s well-stocked weapons, but even among the weapons seized from the barbarians, there wasn’t a single one that pleased Viktor.

‘The craftsmen of Permikoff were of quite good quality.’

He found himself missing the steel mace he had thrown away.

Since it would be difficult to find something of that caliber immediately, he had reluctantly bought several weapons, but none were very satisfactory.

“I’ve resolved that I shouldn’t carelessly throw away weapons I cherish in the future. I’ve learned a good lesson.”

“Haha, while weapons are meant to be replaced regularly, everyone has at least one treasured weapon. If it wouldn’t be presumptuous, I’d be happy to help you find a weapon that suits you later.”

“Oh, I’ll look forward to it.”

Krupin, who seemed to be from a good family, would surely have decent judgment when it came to weapons.

As Viktor nodded with a satisfied expression, it happened.

“Then let’s do that.”

“Understood, Your Excellency. I’m simply grateful for the hospitality.”

“Hahaha, it’s only natural!”

The audience seemed to have ended, as the Count and a sturdy-looking man standing before him rose and embraced each other lightly with satisfied expressions.

Viktor carefully observed the person standing before the Count.

Curly short hair and a deeply cleft chin.

Though he wore plain clothes, the skin that showed through was covered with scars, and his complexion was dark and tough as if burned by the scorching sun.

‘A knight? He doesn’t seem like an ordinary noble…’

As if reading Viktor’s thoughts, Mikhail whispered beside him, revealing the man’s identity.

“Sir Vasilev. He’s called the Grand Prince’s Sword.”

“The Grand Prince’s Sword…”

“Ah, he must have originally been with the Royal Guard…indeed, His Highness the Grand Prince must have great interest in the eastern situation.”

The Royal Guard were the Grand Prince’s elite forces, high in loyalty and martial prowess.

If Mikhail’s words were true, it could be interpreted that the Grand Prince was so concerned about the war with the barbarians that he had sent even those he trusted most to the front lines.

‘Or…he might simply be worried about his heir…’

Seeing Vasilev treat Count Yakobski with an extremely cautious attitude, completely opposite to his large build and fearsome appearance, Viktor thought that possibility seemed likely too.

“So now Sir Vasilev will take command?”

At Viktor’s question, Mikhail shook his head.

“No, he’ll probably share overall command with my lord, but…you’re different, Sir. His Excellency is calling you. You’ll understand as you talk.”

The Count was looking this way and signaling.

Viktor calmly accepted Vasilev’s gaze, which was examining him like an appraisal, and began walking forward.

---

“Sir Vasilev, let me introduce him. This is the knight who achieved the greatest merit in this expedition, Sir Viktor.”

“Greetings.”

Vasilev offered a greeting in a heavy bass voice.

“Viktor of House Kobarov. Pleased to meet you.”

“Vasilev of House Novo. I heard plenty about you on the way here. The savior of Radovitz, the hero of the east…I hear you’ve achieved tremendous feats.”

“I guarantee it personally. Not a word of falsehood! Haha, isn’t that right?”

“You flatter me, Your Excellency.”

Watching the Count and Viktor converse with each other, Vasilev’s eyes gleamed.

“I was a bit worried at first…but it seems the rumors were rather understated. Your Excellency has gained an excellent sword.”

“Sir Vasilev, you can tell!”

The middle-aged knight nodded heavily.

“Strong knights recognize strong knights. To be honest, I’ve been thinking since he entered the great hall. That he seems like an opponent worth…crossing swords with once.”

At his words, Mikhail showed a surprised expression.

‘The Grand Prince’s Sword, called the pinnacle of the principality’s knights, felt competitive spirit!’

Vasilev was famous for not even glancing at ordinary knights.

But now he was looking only at Viktor throughout his conversation with the Count.

Viktor bowed his head and answered modestly.

“Sir Vasilev is being generous with my reputation. I’m only ashamed.”

“…Ho, this is something else.”

Vasilev now began looking at Viktor with an openly interested expression.

“Patience unbecoming of a young man.”

If it had been me in my youth, I would have drawn my weapon immediately upon hearing such words, he said with a chuckle, but Viktor’s face remained as solid as stone even facing such a Vasilev.

Having seen so many such people, it didn’t bother him at all anymore.

‘They never get tired of it. Why do knights always say the same predictable things when they meet?’

Vasilev, with veins bulging at his temples as if his body was itching to fight, was more burdensome than frightening.

He hoped someone would stop him, but Mikhail only nodded with his eyes closed, and the Count was only stoking Vasilev’s interest further by unnecessarily telling stories about the Leshy.

“Hehe…a knight who subdued a Leshy…Your Excellency, if that’s true, then surely crossing swords with this knight at least once would be…!”

“More than that, Your Excellency. Regarding future matters, will Sir Vasilev now take command?”

Viktor’s choice was to ignore him.

Boldly, a young knight who hadn’t known the so-called Grand Prince’s Sword for long ignored his words and changed the subject, but no one present said anything about it.

Only Vasilev looked at Viktor with a displeased expression.

The Count carefully shook his head at Viktor’s words.

“No, the overall command of the combined support troops and Count’s army—the so-called expeditionary force—will be shared between him and me, but you’re different, Sir.”

“What do you mean…”

The Count slowly walked to the central table and pointed to a crudely drawn map.

On it lay several roughly carved wooden figures, and the Count picked up one of them.

“As we discussed to some extent beforehand, the expeditionary force will divide the army to face the barbarians.”

The Count continued while handling the figure.

“Since we’ve talked about this before, you can probably guess…do you understand why I named it the expeditionary force?”

“…Don’t you think defense alone is insufficient?”

The Count placed the piece on one part of the map with a thud.

“Exactly. The reason I came all the way to this east in the first place was to completely crush those barbarian bastards this time. If I were going to stop at mere defense, I wouldn’t have come this far!”

At his cry, the people gathered in the room began focusing on the Count’s words.

“Now is the perfect time. Now that they’re intimidated thanks to you, Sir, is the time to advance! We must push decisively before they come to their senses.”

“Against barbarians whose specialty is mobile warfare, there’s nothing good about dragging out time.”

Vasilev muttered as if talking to himself.

The Count opened his mouth again as if receiving those words.

A bloody smile was forming on his lips.

“They’re being too complacent. Too careless. It’s understandable since they won so big at first, but they’re so relaxed that the Grand Chief’s encampment, once its location was identified, has remained in the same place for weeks.”

“…!”

“Now that interference from the front lines has lessened, while they’re not paying attention, we strike like a storm and seize the chief’s head.”

Viktor examined where the Count had placed the wooden figure earlier.

-Grand Chief’s Encampment

The red letters clearly indicated the target.

“And at that vanguard, Sir Viktor. I plan to place you at the front. I’m confident that you, Sir, will be the spear that can pierce through the barbarian leader’s head and more!”

“…!!”

Everyone in the hall widened their eyes and looked at the Count.

Bang!

As if fevered, the Count struck the table with both hands.

A demonic fire was burning in his eyes.

“I cannot let the proud territory of our Ruth remain defiled by those barbarian trash…this time I will exterminate them and spread the principality’s name to all corners of the world!”

---

Viktor shook his head with a worried expression.

Dividing the army into four units—a vanguard to surround the Grand Chief in advance, a main force to follow, a reserve for emergencies, and a harassment unit to confuse the barbarians’ attention—wasn’t bad, but there were too many sloppy parts.

‘Is there really need to rush this much…of course, the idea of gaining greater advantage before they can reorganize is rational, but…’

To Viktor’s such concerns, Mikhail answered concisely.

“This might be somewhat undignified to say…but His Excellency must also consider his purse strings.”

“Ah.”

It was an unexpectedly simple conclusion.

“We’ve been tied up at Radovitz for too long. No matter how much His Highness the Grand Prince supports us, most of the mercenaries’ wages are still being paid by my lord. We even scraped together a completely annihilated unit from Permikoff again…”

“Indeed…His Excellency has reason to move urgently.”

“Moreover, the opponents are barbarians. It’s hard to receive ransoms, and it’s not easy to seize proper supplies either. On top of that, with them running wild throughout the east, even merchant convoys can’t come easily…the mercenaries’ complaints must be quite severe.”

“If wages are delayed on top of that…it could be dangerous.”

At Viktor’s words, Mikhail nodded gravely.

“My lord is wealthy, but there are limits. For such a large-scale expedition against barbarians who have nothing but horses, it’s natural that money flows out like water.”

“Hmm…”

“Unlike other ignorant knights, I’m telling you about these realistic problems because you’re you, Sir.”

“War is usually profitable…but against barbarians, the accounts don’t balance out.”

“Exactly. That’s why His Excellency has even greater expectations of you, Sir…ah, but Sir! Don’t worry. We’ll make up for it by winning—by winning!”

“…”

Count Yakobski’s financial situation seemed worse than expected.

If the war dragged on longer here, the Count would become very depressed.

Viktor was finally able to return to his quarters after listening to the complaints of Mikhail, who served as escort knight, the Count’s secretary, financial officer, and…well, various other roles.

He let out a sigh of relief.

‘I’m glad I’m not fighting this war with my own money!’