"Why are you sneaking glances like that? What, want to get close to him because he's a smooth faced pretty boy? If you're lucky, he might even offer you his as at night?"
Partek snapped at Raban, who had been stealing looks at Eugene's back ever since they'd set out.
"Hey, I was just looking a little. We're in the same party now, aren't we?"
"So what? It's only for today. And don't take too much interest in a knight. If a goblin goes chasing after an ogre, it'll only end up with its legs torn apart."
"Even so, calling me a goblin is a bit much, isn't it? And it's not like anyone's born a knight."
Partek snorted at the grumbling Raban.
"They are born knights."
"What?"
"No matter how dumb and rough looking a knight may seem, they start learning how to use a sword from the time they're three or four."
"Chief, aren't you treating me like an idiot?"
"It's true, you punk. If you're born into a knightly family, nine times out of ten you're playing with a wooden sword the moment you learn how to walk. If you show talent, you enter systematic training at around seventeen or eighteen. You're taught by your father or older relatives."
"By training… you mean swordsmanship?"
"Swordsmanship, spear techniques, horsemanship, dagger work, barehanded-combat everything there is to fighting."
"Really? Then you become a knight?"
"No. After learning to a certain level, you become a squire. That's when the real hell begins."
"Oh, you mean those brats who follow knights around?"
"Yeah. You might look down on them, but those sixteen- or seventeen-year-olds are stronger than you. They could chew up two or three half-baked mercenaries without breaking a sweat."
"I see…"
"Right. Anyway, you usually spend two or three years as a squire five if you get stuck with a nasty master. You run all kinds of errands and get plenty of real combat experience, and then they write you a letter of recommendation. Only then do you finally earn the qualifications to become a knight."
"Daamn."
"But that's not even the end. What good is a recommendation? You still need to be formally knighted to be a real knight."
"Knighted?"
"Hunting monsters, fighting in wars, dueling, joining jousting tournaments after rolling around like that for years and building up merit, you have to catch the eye of a titled noble to receive knighthood. Now, here's the question."
Grinning at the already exhausted-looking Raban, Partek continued.
"Out of all the kids who first pick up a wooden sword, how many do you think make it that far? And at what stage do you think Sir Eugene who looks about twenty-two or twenty-three is at now?"
"…I'll just stick close behind you, Chief. I'll behave, too."
"Good. Don't get carried away."
"Being a knight really is amazing. Now I get why that miser liked him so much."
Raban handed the reins to another mercenary and stared cross-eyed at the merchant Billmore, who was nodding off beside the driver's seat.
"Of course. Hiring a knight officially costs a fortune. And a knight with such an easygoing personality like Sir Eugene is incredibly rare. Since he's traveling with us for free, it's only natural that his mouth's splitting with joy."
"So we're lucky too?"
"That's a stupid question."
Partek and the mercenaries all grinned.
When the flashy, handsome knight suddenly asked to join them the night before, they'd thought he must be crazy. They'd even suspected he had some ulterior motive.
But when the village chief of Broadwin presented a letter addressed to Sir Tiwyn and explained the situation, all the mercenaries accepted it.
In the end, it was just one extra person being added to the escort of Billmore and the supply wagon to Sir Tiwyn's castle.
Moreover, the person being escorted was Sir Tiwyn's son illegitimate or not and he even had a knight accompanying him.
"This job feels good. See? I was right to trust my instincts," Partek said.
Every mercenary nodded in agreement. Partek truly was a leader worth following, in both skill and luck.
"Hey, another bear-like bastard is grinning at you again. Shouldn't we just beat them all up, steal their horses, and hurry on our way?"
"If you get caught stealing horses, it's immediate execution. And those are pack horses they can't even run fast."
"Really? Aren't all horses the same?"
"They all have different purposes. Horses for speed, horses for pulling carts and wagons, horses for battle they're all different."
"Oooh! Our Sir Eugene really knows a lot, huh?"
"Yeah. At least he definitely knows how to read better than you."
"Kyaa! Shut up!"
Mirian screamed as she plopped herself on Eugene's shoulder and started chattering.
"By the way, I like that the little old man is riding in the wagon. It's much easier to chat like this. Seriously, riding is way better, so why do you keep insisting on walking? Such a weird little brat."
Eugene, who was about to say that stubbornness might run in the Tiwyn family, decided to let it go.
"But say, what kind of person is this Sir Tiwyn anyway?"
"I don't really know. Just that he's the lord of this region and supposedly doesn't have long to live. They say he was a very strong knight when he was young."
More than that, the real problem was that there was a chance they might not even get to meet Sir Tiwyn.
Eugene had been thinking about it since last night, but he still hadn't found an answer.
"The lord's about to die? Then what happens to our little old man? He could end up an orphan again the moment we arrive."
"That's none of my concern."
Since he was an illegitimate child, he likely wouldn't be treated well. And if the mercenaries' talk about the domain being poor was true, there wouldn't be much inheritance for Pellid either.
No if the already impoverished family was in chaos because of the dungeon, he might even be dragged into it as a soldier and die a meaningless death.
'Still, he at least gets to see his father's face. That's better than me. Huh?'
As Eugene who didn't even know what his own parents looked like had that thought, something suddenly struck him.
'Even if I can't meet him, Pellid will inevitably meet Sir Tiwyn.'
No parent would reunite with a child they didn't even know existed after sixteen years without seeing their face.
'How can I use this?'
Eugene's mind began to race.
Regaining the appearance of a vampire wasn't the only thing he had recovered.
He was also beginning to reclaim the sharp, cunning intellect befitting a member of the Night Clan.
After traveling all day, Eugene and the mercenaries finally arrived at the village of Martella, where Sir Tiwyn's castle was located.
Martella was slightly larger than Brahms.
However, the lord's castle at the center of the village was not very large.
Inside the moat and tall walls were only three buildings in total, including the main residence where the lord's family lived.
Still, it must have been an impressive sight for a small swamp spirit, because Miriam couldn't shut her mouth.
"Milord! Sir Eugene! You should hurry and rise in status and live in a castle like that too! Count Eugene of Blood! Count Eugene of Darkness! Kiiiek!? If you put a few gargoyles up there, it'd be perfect! And let some ghouls loose on the walls too!"
"Stop talking nonsense and get inside for now. I'll open the stopper if I need you."
"Honestly, such a master with no ambition or romance."
Even while grumbling, Mirian obediently slipped into the leather pouch.
With Billmore, a merchant from a large city trading company, leading the way, the group easily passed over the drawbridge guarded by soldiers.
As they entered the small castle of the Tiwyn family, known as Rose Castle, the gazes of the residents inside all converged on them.
Among them, several well-dressed men and women approached the wagon. They looked like people of high rank within the castle.
"Hey! Are you from the Pheilin Trading Company?"
At the question of a man who looked to be around thirty, Billmore clasped his hands and answered.
"Yes. I am Billmore of the Pheilin Trading Company. And may I ask whom you are, sir?"
"I am Camara, heir of the Tiwyn family. The rest of you have already been introduced, so unload the cargo."
"Yes, sir."
Partek and the mercenaries began unloading the goods.
Since it had nothing to do with him, Eugene searched for the letter he was carrying to introduce Pellid to Camara Tiwyn.
At that moment, Camara's gaze turned toward Eugene.
"And who are you people? Why aren't you helping with the work?"
"Ah, yes, sir!"
Just as Pellid, who had been standing there awkwardly and reading the room, was about to move, Eugene grabbed his arm and guided him forward.
"Pleased to meet you. I am—"
"Brother Camara!"
At that moment, a sharp, clear voice cut Eugene off.
A young man wearing a gray surcoat over chain mail strode forward with two soldiers in tow.
'Bertel Tiwyn.'
Before Eugene's regression, he was the knight of the Tiwyn family who, along with Jung Diricht, had harassed Eugene in many ways.
In truth, the one who killed Eugene was Jung Diricht—but the one in charge of the pursuit force had been Bertel Tiwyn.
"What do you think you're doing right now?"
"What do you think? The goods from the Pheilin Trading Company arrived, so I was giving orders to unload them."
"And why are you the one doing that?"
"You handle only military matters. As the heir, I take care of everything else. Isn't that natural? Or what—are you trying to oversee even this? Planning to play the heir yourself too?"
"That's not what I meant."
"Then just do your job properly."
Watching the brothers glare at each other like mortal enemies, Eugene realized that what he had heard from the mercenaries was true.
The lord was likely to die soon, the domain's finances were in shambles, and on top of that a dungeon had appeared.
Yet instead of uniting, the brothers were at each other's throats.
"And who are you?"
It seemed that after being publicly undermined by Camara, Bertel's sour gaze turned toward Eugene.
Eugene pulled two sheets of parchment from his bosom and handed them not to Bertel, but to Camara.
"One was carried by a mercenary named Timothy. The other was sent by Chief Geb of Broadwin."
"What?"
Camara visibly flinched in surprise.
He roughly snatched the parchments and hurriedly read their contents.
"Daamn it…"
"What is it?"
"Read it yourself."
Camara frowned and handed the parchments over. As Bertel read them, his face also stiffened.
"The mercenaries were wiped out by an attack from black wolves? And this knight… brought the lord's illegitimate son with him?"
"That's right. And this here is Sir Tiwyn's illegitimate son."
Following Eugene's gaze, everyone turned their attention in that direction.
"I m pleased to meet you! My name is Pellid!"
Pellid bowed deeply.
At the news that the lord's rumored illegitimate son had arrived, the people of the castle focused their attention on him and soon began murmuring among themselves.
"Take this boy away. Get him washed up and put him in proper clothes."
"Yes. Please come with me, young master."
At Bertel's order, a neatly dressed castle servant stepped forward.
"Oh, yes, sir!"
Even as he followed the servant, Pellid repeatedly looked back at Eugene.
Only after Eugene gave him a light reassuring gesture did the boy finally walk on with a relieved expression.
"Then, Sir Eugene."
Bertel spoke to Eugene.
"I thank you for your efforts. An unfortunate incident occurred, but fortunately you took over the request and saw it through, so the payment will be made tomorrow. In any case, you must be tired, so eat well and rest for today."
Though polite in tone, the meaning was clear: leave tomorrow.
"My thanks. However, might I perhaps meet Sir Tiwyn?"
"The lord's condition is very poor, so that will be difficult."
"So it truly won't be possible?"
"It is not permitted."
A clear refusal.
And the eldest son whose terrible personality easily brought Jung Diricht to did not seem likely to grant permission either.
But then
"What's so difficult about a brief meeting? He may be from a different womb, but he's still the one who safely brought his younger brother all the way here, isn't he?"
Unexpectedly, it was the eldest son Camara—whom Eugene had not expected much from who suddenly stepped in on Eugene's behalf.
(To be continued in the next chapter)