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Star-Embracing Swordmaster Chapter 115: People who do not know each other (3)

Chapter 115: People who do not know each other (3)

Vlad⁠ opened the bag⁠⁠​ the Count had‍‌⁠ given him and⁠⁠​ counted the gold‍​ coins inside one⁠​ by one.

Money​ received from the​‌​ Count, a total​‌ of 20 gold⁠ coins.

“It’s​‍ ambiguous.”

Bright‍ gold coins greeted‍ him, but Vlad⁠ only frowned.

If​​ you look at⁠​⁠ it just as​⁠ a reward for​⁠ escorting the carriage,​‍ it must have​ been a lot⁠​⁠ of money, but‌‍‍ considering the cost‍‍‍ of your life,⁠ it was an‌⁠ excessively small amount‌ of money.

It‍ seemed that Count‌⁠ Vitskaya would compensate​ for the lack⁠ of compensation with‍ resentment.

“Goethe.”‍‍‍

“Eh?”‌​‍

Goethe​‌‍ reflexively caught the‍​‌ coins flying towards​ him.

“Your‌ salary.”

“Oh…‌ oh.”

Three⁠ bright gold coins.​‌⁠

Goethe​​‍ kicked out when⁠​‌ he saw the‌​‍ income that an‌‍​ ordinary peasant would‍‌ have to earn​ for a whole​ year.

“What!‍​ Are you going‍‌​ to give me⁠‍⁠ 3 gold coins‍⁠ each from now​‌ on?”

“If‍⁠⁠ I have money.”‍‍⁠

“Incredible!”⁠​​

Goethe​‍⁠ thought as he‍​‌ bit into a gold coin.

As⁠ expected, I did​‍ well to follow​ him.

No⁠‌ matter how capable‍⁠⁠ a person is,‍‌‌ if they are‌‍​ stingy when it​ comes to opening‍‌⁠ their pockets, it⁠ will be difficult‌ to follow them.‍

However,​ the knight here‍‌ did not hesitate‍‌ to take care⁠‌ of the people​‍‌ under his command.‌

It’s‍ as if the⁠ bosses of the⁠​ dark alleys were‍ generously wasting money.‍​

“And‌‍⁠ this is security.”​⁠

“Also!”‌‍‌

Another‌​ gold coin flew⁠‌‌ back with indifferent‍​‌ words.

Goethe’s⁠ expression as he​⁠‍ watched the flying​ gold coins looked​ happy again.

“I⁠‍ also pay the‍⁠​ inn fee with⁠ that.”

“Of‍​ course.”

“Even⁠⁠‍ give things to​‍ the person in‍ the next room.”⁠‍

“Of​‌​ course, I have‍‌​ to give it⁠‌ to the person​⁠​ in the next‌‍ room. Right?”

Goethe‍ was very enthusiastic⁠‌‌ about the bright​ gold coins, but​‍ he couldn’t help‍ but frown at‍⁠ the words he‍ heard now.

“Why​ the next room?​⁠ Are we really‌⁠ going to move‌​ in with that‌⁠ person from now⁠‌⁠ on?”

Vlad⁠‌‌ wasn’t the only⁠‍ one attacked by‌‌ the hooded man​‌ on the stone‌‍ bridge.

Even​⁠‍ now, his bluish⁠‍‍ cheekbones still reminded​​‍ him of the‍‌ pain of that‍ day.

“The‌ 3 gold coins⁠‍ I gave you​‍‌ also include the​⁠ price you pay‍‌ for that.”

“…Is‍⁠⁠ he saying he‌‍ wants to follow⁠‍ us?”

Vlad⁠ simply ended Goethe’s​‍⁠ complaints with a gold coin and​‌ stood up.

“Where​‍‌ to?”

“To‌⁠ Stephan’s.”

If⁠​ you use it,‌ you have to​​‌ pay for it.‍⁠​

Also,​ because Thornwood’s mercenaries​‌ followed Vlad, they​‍​ lost Vitskaya’s favor,​ so they’ll have‌⁠​ to pay the​⁠ price for it.⁠​⁠

“Those⁠⁠⁠ people didn’t run‍‌ away. That’s enough​ to know.”

Goethe‍⁠‍ nodded as he‌ listened to Vlad.‌⁠​

As⁠‍ two people who⁠‌ had worked in‍ the world of⁠ mercenaries, they knew‌‍ very well how‌​⁠ valuable a mercenary‌⁠ who stayed until​ the end was.‌‍‌

“I’ll​‍​ be off.”

“Go⁠⁠ ahead. Captain.”

Vlad⁠​‌ puts on his​⁠ cloak and steps⁠ out into the‍⁠​ cold, leaving only‍ a brief farewell.‍​​

Goethe​​‌ scratched his chin⁠‍ as he watched‌ Vlad open the‌‍​ inn door.

“…I’m​‌ starting to get​‌ a little scared⁠​‌ now.”

When​‍ they first met,⁠​ Vlad was just‍‍‌ a wild boy‌ who knew nothing⁠ about the world,​ but when he⁠ went out now,​‌ anyone could see‌⁠ his back and‌‍‌ he looked like‍‍ a knight with‌​ a sense of⁠ weight.

It‌⁠ was the same‌ winter as back⁠‌ then, but Vlad’s‍​ shoulders had already⁠‍ broadened when he‍ stepped out.

***‍

End‌ of a cold​‌‌ winter.

Although‍‌⁠ it wasn’t as​‌ cold as in​‍ the north, it​‌ was still quite⁠ chilly here at‍⁠ the end of‌‍‌ the central region.​⁠

“You‌ said you had⁠ plenty of money,‌‍⁠ so why is​​ this all we​​‍ have for dinner?”⁠

The​⁠ man in the‌​ gray hood clicked​‌‌ his tongue as‌‌‌ he tossed aside⁠ the pot Goethe⁠ had boiled.

“Don’t‌‍‌ you need meat​ to fuel your‍ strength? A knight‌⁠ doesn’t skimp on‌ food.”

Goethe‍ pouted as he​​‍ watched the man​‌⁠ crush the stew‍​ he had worked⁠ so hard to⁠​ cook.

However,‌⁠ he refrained from⁠‌ saying anything because⁠‍‍ he understood well‍ the skills of⁠‍‌ the person before‍⁠‌ him.

“The‍‍ prices in Tanovo⁠‍ are insane.”

“No​ matter how expensive‍​‌ it is.”

“I⁠‌‍ didn’t have more⁠ money because I had to buy‍⁠ you a horse.”‍

“…If⁠ that’s the case,​⁠ there’s nothing we‍⁠​ can do.”

The‍ gray-hooded man listened​​⁠ to Vlad’s words‌​‍ and silently transferred​ the spoon he‌​‌ was stirring to⁠ the bowl.

Those​‌ who roamed the​‌‍ lowest places had​‍ to be grateful‍‍⁠ even for small​ meals.

“Don’t‌‌ you know who​​ your master is?”​

“If‌ I knew, I would have told‌ you a long⁠ time ago. At‌ that time, the⁠ sword was at⁠ my throat.”

The‌ gray-hooded man looked‍ closely at Vlad​‌‍ over the bowl⁠ he was holding,⁠ but the young​⁠⁠ knight’s eyes didn’t‌‌ waver in the​​ slightest.

To​⁠⁠ the point where​ it’s surprising.

“I’ve‌‍‌ been saying it​ all along. I’m⁠‌ also looking for⁠⁠‍ someone.”

“Hmm.”​⁠

It​​ wasn’t the whole‌‍‍ truth, but Vlad’s​‌​ assertion that he​‍​ was searching for⁠‌ a master wasn’t‌‍‍ a lie.

If‌‍ he had responded​ falsely, no matter​​ how clever he⁠ had been living⁠⁠ in the dark‌ alleys, Vlad wouldn’t​⁠​ have been able‍⁠ to deceive the‌⁠ man before him.​‌​

Because⁠​ he was skilled​⁠ at detecting truth‍⁠ and lies.

“The‌​​ imperial sword should⁠‌⁠ never leak out…”⁠‌

After‍ hearing Vlad’s words,⁠ the gray-hooded man⁠ furrowed his brow‌‌ and lifted his‌‌⁠ spoon as if​‌‍ in pain.

“But​‍‍ what I’m using​‍ is really the‌‌‌ imperial swordsmanship?”

“Exactly,‍ it’s the imperial​‍ swordsmanship. The art​ of killing with⁠ a single blow‍⁠⁠ is something that‍⁠ only a few​ of the Imperial‍ Knights are taught.”‌⁠

Said​​ the gray-hooded man.‍‌​

A person born with⁠⁠ imperial blood.

Or​ it’s a type‌⁠​ of swordsmanship that‍ only a few‍ of his closest​‍​ knights can learn.⁠⁠

Vlad‍‍ was completely perplexed⁠ to realize that⁠‌‍ he had been⁠‍‌ using such a fine sword skill‌ all this time.‌‍​

“So,​​ I can’t use‍ it?”

“Is‌​‍ your father the​⁠⁠ emperor?”

“That⁠ seems unlikely.”

“Then⁠‍​ you could get​⁠ in trouble.”

It‌⁠‍ can’t be used‍ because it’s not⁠⁠‍ authorized.

Because‌​‌ the art of⁠‌⁠ killing with a single blow belonged‌‍‌ to the imperial‌‍‍ family.

To​ be precise, it‍ was the swordsmanship‌ of Frausen, the‍​ founding king and​​⁠ the sole master‍​​ of the sword,‌​‍ so if the‍ imperial family found​ out about this,​ they wouldn’t remain‌ silent.

“Maybe‍ only the people⁠​ from the North‌​ don’t know, but⁠‌​ as you move⁠​ towards the central⁠⁠⁠ part, there will⁠ be people who‌⁠‍ recognize it. If⁠‍⁠ you do something⁠​​ wrong, you could​​ be accused of​ insulting the royal‌‌‌ family.”

“…So,⁠⁠‌ what should I do?”

When⁠‌ a big accusation⁠‌ came out of‍ the man’s mouth,‌‍⁠ Vlad’s voice inadvertently‍‌‍ turned calm.

Vlad‌‍‍ had never thought⁠⁠ of the word​​ imperial family in​ his life, so‌ the current situation‍ would surely be​‍ burdensome.

“There’s‌ no way.”

The‌ gray-hooded man looked‍‍‌ at Vlad with‌ a faint smile.‌‌

“I​ once saw your‍⁠ sword skill. I think the technique‍​ for killing with​ a single blow⁠ that you use‍ leaked out quite‍​ some time ago.”⁠‍‍

The‌​‍ gray-hooded man clearly‍ recognized Vlad’s sword‍‍​ skill when he‍​ received a blow​⁠​ that destroyed everything.‌

Vlad’s⁠‌ swordsmanship was clearly​‌‌ that of the​​ imperial swordsmanship, but​‍ it was different​⁠ from the swordsmanship​​‌ he was currently​ using.

“Why‍‌‌ do you think​ that?”

“What⁠ you’re using is⁠⁠ a little closer⁠‌‌ to the original.”‌

The‍‍ man scooped the‌‍‍ spoon and began‌ to gently stir‌‍ the pot containing​ the stew.

“If‍‌ this soft stew‌‍⁠ is the technique‍‍ of killing with​ a single blow‌​⁠ that you’re currently‍‌​ using.”

The‍⁠ sausages to be⁠⁠​ used tomorrow began⁠‌‌ to be cut‍​ into the stew.‌​​

The⁠‌‌ fragrant aroma of​ the meat and‍⁠⁠ the droplets of‍​‌ oil that spread⁠ began to deepen​​​ the flavor of‌‍​ the boiling stew.‍

“This‍​ is the technique⁠‍‍ of killing with​⁠ a single blow⁠⁠⁠ currently used by⁠‌ the imperial family.”‌

Time‌ passes and everything‌⁠⁠ with shape changes.⁠‍‌

It​​ had been 300​ years since the⁠‌ founding of the‍‌ empire, so it⁠⁠‍ was natural for‍⁠ the imperial swordsmanship‍ to continue evolving​​⁠ according to the​‌​ long trend.

“It’s‍ a little more⁠​⁠ delicious than before.”⁠‍

“…”​

Vlad​ looked at the‍‌ stew with chunks‌⁠ of meat floating‍ around.

He‌⁠‍ felt he had‍‌​ an idea of‍​⁠ what the gray-hooded‍ man was trying⁠ to say.

“…So.”‍

“The‌⁠ secret to a single blow comes⁠‍‍ from the unexpected.”‌​

Said‍‍ the man as‍‍​ he moved the‍⁠‌ sausages onto his‌ plate.

“And⁠‍ the unexpected doesn’t​ come from refined‍ rules, but from‍‌​ a truly mysterious​⁠ idea.”

The​⁠ man who finally‌ removed all the⁠ floating meat chunks‍​‍ looked at Vlad⁠⁠ and smiled.

“Now⁠ you’re going to​ add your own​ ingredients here. So‍ much so that​ even people from‌ the imperial family‍​‍ will nod when‌ they see it.”​‍

Even⁠ if it started‌ from the same‍⁠‍ roots, bloom your‍‍‍ own flower.

The‌ trick to a single blow is‌‍‌ the sword skill‌​​ that pursues it.​‌

“Is‍ it possible?”

A knight from the‌‍‍ North wielding the‌ imperial sword.

A young knight whose⁠ existence is nothing‌⁠​ short of unexpected.‍⁠

The‌​ face of the‍‍ former captain of​​‌ the Imperial Guard,⁠‌‌ looking at that‍‍ Vlad, bore a subtle smile.

There‌⁠‌ was a truly‍‍ subtle smile on‌‍‍ the face of⁠⁠⁠ the former commander⁠⁠‌ of the Imperial‍‍‍ Guard as he‍‌‍ looked at Vlad.⁠‌⁠

***‌‍‌

“No…⁠‍ how did you‌ get here?”

An⁠‍‍ office adorned with‌ elf decorations.

Count‌ Vitskaya hurried to‌‍ greet the unexpected‌ guest.

“You‍ didn’t ask me​​ to come, did‌‍⁠ you?”

“No,‍‌‌ not yet.”

He‌‌‌ was asked to​⁠ come, but it‌ wasn’t explicitly stated‍​‌ he would.

Therefore,‌‍‌ the count couldn’t​ help but feel​ embarrassed when he‌‍ saw the knight⁠‍‍ before him.

Mirshea,‍⁠ the leader of‌‍‍ the Dragon Slayer⁠ Knights.

Because​‌‌ it was difficult‍ for a noble⁠‍ knight to invite‍ someone.

“Anyway,‌​ have a cup​‍‍ of tea.”

“…I’m​ not fond of‌ elf tea.”

Blond⁠‌‍ hair and blue⁠‍​ eyes.

When​ Count Vitskaya saw‍‍‌ Mirshea staring at​⁠ him, he naturally⁠ remembered the northern‍ knight who had⁠​ left this city‍ a few days‍ ago.

“Yes!‌ Yes, that’s right.​⁠‌ It’s definitely not⁠⁠ tea worthy of‍‍ offering to someone​​ special.”

However,‌ even if it’s‍ the same shade​ of blue, the‍ depth is different.‌

The​ count heard Mirshea’s​ firm refusal and​ quickly started heating⁠ the water again.‍⁠

“Is​ Absilon getting better?‌‌‍ I received a report that there​‍ was an unknown‍ attacker.”

“It’s‍⁠​ resolved. It worked‍‍ out well!”

The⁠​⁠ count serving him​ and the Duke’s‌‌ son sitting at​ the head of⁠‌ the table as‍‌‍ if he were⁠ the owner.

It⁠‍ might not be⁠ an illusion that‌ it seems like⁠​ the owner and⁠‌​ the guest have‍‌​ been switched.

Because⁠‌ the current appearance‌‍⁠ of the two‌ clearly revealed the‍ relationship between Vitskaya‍‌ and Dragulia.

“How?”⁠​

It‌‌‍ feels like something​ is lodged right‍​ between the eyes.​​

The⁠​ count felt like‍‌ his mind turned⁠‌⁠ cold facing Mirshea’s‍‌⁠ cold eyes.

“You‌‌ said he’s a powerful person who⁠ can’t be defeated⁠‌ by the knights‌‌ here alone?”

“That’s⁠‌​ right… that’s how​‍ it was.”

The⁠‌​ count licked his‍​ lips with his‌‌​ tongue and answered​⁠‍ while trying to⁠ erase his nervous​ expression.

“There‍​⁠ was a knight‌‍‍ from the North.‌‍ He was young,⁠ but he had‍​ good skills.”

“…From​ the north?”

Mirshea’s⁠‌ eyebrows arched as‌‍‌ he listened to‌‌ the count’s report.‌

“Yes.‌⁠‌ He was a guy named Vlad,‍ but he still‍ used a sword.”‌​

The‍‌‍ count, who had‍‌‌ just heated the‍ tea, poured it‍‌ into a cup‍ and spoke attentively.‌

“Still,⁠⁠ since he’s a northern lad, he‍⁠​ didn’t know his⁠ place and behaved​ rudely.”

“…”⁠​‍

“As‌​ expected, humble lineages‌ are evident everywhere.⁠​‍ Where will the⁠ blood of barbarians​ go?”

The​​ count smiled and‍ looked at Mirshea​‍ as he said‌ those words.

His⁠​⁠ face seemed calm‌​‍ as he lifted​​‌ the teacup and‍‍ smelled the aroma​‌​ of black tea.‍‌⁠

As⁠ expected, the tea⁠‍‌ ceremony skills learned⁠‌ from the elves‌⁠‌ are sufficient to‌‍ satisfy even central‌‌ nobles…

Crash-‌

The‍⁠‍ sound of something‌​ breaking.

It​‍‌ was just the⁠⁠ sound of a teacup breaking, but‌‌ the count jumped​‌ and widened his‍‍ eyes.

The‌ red tea water​⁠‍ seeped sinisterly between‌​⁠ the broken teacups,‍ soaking the table.‌

“Did​ he really look​​ like that?”

A heavy silence descended‍​ in the office​‌ in an instant.​‌​

The​⁠ crack that started​‌ in the teacup⁠⁠ was spreading through‍‍ the office air.‌

“…Yes?”​

“Veins⁠⁠⁠ that are evident‍⁠‌ no matter where⁠⁠ you look.”

The​⁠‍ count grabbed his⁠⁠‍ trembling hand unknowingly.⁠

Consciousness‌‍ is slow, but⁠⁠‍ instinct is quick.⁠⁠‍

The‌‌‌ clinking of teacups⁠ and plates was‌‍ loud.

“I‌ mean, did that⁠ lineage you recognized​‌ really seem so‍​‌ humble?”

Count⁠‌​ Vitskaya swallowed and‍​‍ lifted his head​​​ in response to​ the question.

Blue‍ eyes watching you.⁠

They⁠ contained a fierce‍‌​ strength that not​⁠ even the blue​ blood of a noble could handle.‌​

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