"The Great Lord? Who, Me?" (3)
The Zeden Mountains stretched east to west across the northern part of the Ustil Kingdom.
This rugged range, crawling with all kinds of monsters, also served as the border between human lands and the Chaotic North, the monsters' domain.
Since these monsters frequently invaded human territory, the Deventor Marquis, alongside the Jestrad Barons, had once served as the vanguard defending the kingdom's northern lands.
That was roughly twenty years ago.
After the Jestrad family fell from power, only the Deventor family had maintained their duty of guarding the kingdom properly.
Even today, a group of knights trained diligently at Deventor's northern fortress.
"Haah!"
With a shout, the sturdy knights exchanged strikes.
They swung swords and pressed with shields, sweat flying amid the rising dust.
"Ugh!"
"Ahh!"
Watching them, a middle-aged knight shouted.
"Never neglect your training! Only we are the true protectors of these lands!"
This was Sir Bright, the commander of the fortress.
"We cannot expect anything from Jestrad's useless trash!"
The Jestrad Barons—they were infuriating to think about.
They had received the luck of a copper mine without fulfilling their obligations and had the audacity to betray the Deventors for their own greed?
"Well, that problem will soon be neatly resolved."
After assessing the knights' condition, Bright called for a break.
"That's enough for now! Rest a little before continuing!"
The knights, gasping for breath, tried to steady themselves.
Among them, however, stood a massive knight who seemed completely unfazed.
Bright approached him.
"How's your duel trial preparation going, Sir Randolph?"
"I do not neglect training… but…"
Randolph let out a dry laugh, sweeping back his brown hair.
"What preparation could I possibly need? I'm facing nothing more than a sheltered novice."
"Of course, that's true."
Bright laughed heartily and patted Randolph's shoulder.
"But I say it just in case. It's utterly incomprehensible, isn't it? There must be something he believes in, otherwise…"
The new Lord of Jestrad, Karnak, had proposed a duel trial that was far too predictable in its outcome.
"No matter how foolish, would he throw away his life so easily?"
"Of course, I won't underestimate him… but," Randolph shrugged.
"I hear the new Jestrad Lord wasn't a proper heir. Perhaps he doesn't even understand how strong a real knight is."
He might think Karnak is only slightly stronger than ordinary soldiers.
"Isn't it common for naive young nobles to do foolish things?"
Bright chuckled.
"Common enough. Sometimes someone seems stupid, but you suspect they might have some hidden scheme. Most of the time, though, they really are just stupid."
Randolph gripped his sword again.
"Of course, one must never neglect training."
The break was over, and they had to resume their exercises.
"Not for a duel trial, but to protect these lands and its people!"
One by one, the other knights assumed their stances again.
The resounding shouts echoed across the training grounds.
"Hup!"
"Haah!"
Bright watched Randolph with steady eyes.
Blows rained in rapid succession. No matter the shields or armor, opponents couldn't resist and would ultimately lose their lives—Randolph's signature, decisive fighting style.
'Indeed, he's strong.'
If he keeps growing, he may even master battle aura, the knights' dream, and become truly top-tier.
'My only concern is his rough temperament and habit of underestimating enemies…'
Even so, there's no chance a 20-year-old novice, untrained in real combat, could defeat him.
'I just can't understand what he thought he was relying on to issue a challenge—he's neither knight nor mage.'
It was at that moment…
Bright's gaze suddenly drifted beyond the training grounds.
"Hm?"
He had the sense that someone was watching them.
Curious, he looked more closely and saw a young peddler beyond the courtyard fence, selling various goods to a group of women.
Nothing particularly unusual—such peddlers often came by.
The northern fortress was small compared to the main stronghold. The courtyard sometimes doubled as a training ground, a laundry area, or a market for traveling merchants.
It wasn't strange to see knights training on one side while women hung blankets to dry on the other.
But this young peddler was glancing their way a little too often.
'That guy?'
For a moment, Bright wondered if he might be a spy sent from Jestrad to scout their forces.
But he quickly shook his head.
'That's ridiculous.'
After all, it was just training time.
They weren't practicing secret techniques or maneuvers that needed to be hidden.
The really important training took place privately, even in a small fortress, away from prying eyes.
Of course, sometimes even small movements or habits could reveal a warrior's capabilities…
'But that's only possible for a master who has spent decades entirely devoted to combat.'
Someone that powerful wouldn't need to pose as a peddler to spy on them.
They could simply enter the duel trial as the champion themselves.
Moreover, it wasn't unusual for commoners to admire knights with awe.
Shaking off his thoughts, Bright turned his attention back to the training grounds.
The knights' powerful shouts echoed above the sweating bodies.
"Keep moving! The sweat you shed will become the fertilizer that protects these lands!"
Spread on a mat on the ground were various goods for sale.
A group of women huddled together, examining the items with interest. They were all families of the knights and soldiers stationed at the northern fortress.
A middle-aged woman ran her fingers over a handkerchief, a look of delight on her face.
"Oh my, it's so soft! What kind of fabric is this?"
"How much is this?"
"Just thirty kelin per set!"
"Thirty kelin? Really? Well then, I'll take one too…"
The peddler—well, Baros disguised as a peddler—continued his negotiations with the women, secretly smiling.
'Business is going well. Of course it is.'
These goods had been specially sourced from the central kingdom for this occasion—luxury items rare in this harsh fortress.
And he was selling them at the purchase price, no markup at all.
'No wonder they're eager to buy immediately, heh.'
Thanks to the bustling crowd, he could leisurely observe the knights' training.
Especially Sir Randolph's fighting style.
'I can get the gist of it.'
Even in basic conditioning exercises, habits inevitably reveal themselves.
And Baros, once the second-in-command of Necropia and one of the strongest warriors in the world, had a precision in "eyeballing" opponents that far exceeded ordinary standards.
Just by watching a little, he could analyze Randolph's full capabilities: personality, fighting style, speed, timing.
'With a guy like this, it wouldn't even take half a year to prepare.'
Randolph was a typical midweight swordsman.
In the best light, his style was powerful, efficient, and straightforward; in the worst, just simple and brute.
His movements were relatively predictable.
A few months of conditioning would give enough of an advantage to take him on.
'Though if we fought right now, my head would be on the chopping block in no time.'
So, for now, it was best to follow Karnak's plan.
As Baros observed Randolph, one of the women from the crowd approached him.
"Excuse me, do you know my brother?"
"Ah! So you're Sir Randolph's family."
Baros quickly composed himself and replied casually.
"Who wouldn't know the North's strongest knight, Sir Randolph? I'm just a country bumpkin, so I can't help staring in awe."
Though he was actually the Deventor family's top knight, Baros subtly inflated the praise.
"Excuse me for the intrusion. As an apology, I'll give you one more undergarment. This is all I have."
Who would refuse a free gift? The woman giggled as she accepted it.
"Oh my, thank you! Hohoho."
Smoothly moving past the situation, Baros turned his attention back to Randolph.
'That takes care of everything the master asked me to do, right?'
A wicked smile crept across his lips.
'Looks like I'm starting to get a rough idea of how to handle that guy, hohoho.'
In a secluded corner of the Jestrad mansion stood a private training hall.
Because even a single leak of a family's secret techniques could cause major damage, such facilities were common not only in the Zestrad family but among most noble households.
Entering the hall, Karnak looked puzzled.
"Honestly, is our family's swordsmanship really so amazing that it needs to be hidden? Why go to the trouble of building this?"
Baros waved his hand.
"Even with third-rate families, just a bit of advantage can be decisive. It's definitely necessary."
Although the Jestrad family's swordsmanship was deemed third-rate, it was only considered so relative to the elite circles they normally associated with, so their "third-rate" was still strong.
Locking the training hall doors, Karnak quipped:
"Well, at least it makes things easier for us."
When Baros returned, Karnak immediately announced that he would begin special training in preparation for the duel. He also strictly forbade anyone from approaching the hall, except Baros.
No one doubted his insistence on keeping things secret—the fate of the domain was at stake, after all. And since Baros was already Karnak's trusted aide, it was natural for him to be there.
"With this, Baros, even if you suddenly get stronger, it won't raise any suspicions, right?"
At this point, Baros was just a servant. It would look suspicious if he suddenly transformed into a top-tier knight without any explanation.
That way, the story could unfold naturally: "Baros learns martial arts by assisting Karnak and observing him closely, eventually awakening his hidden talent."
"For now, let's focus on the task at hand."
Muttering to himself, Baros placed a suit of plate mail in front of Karnak.
"Here, put it on."
Karnak tilted his head as he held up the chest piece.
"How do you even wear this?"
He had never worn armor in his life. As a necromancer, armor would have been a hindrance, and after becoming Astra Shunaph, his body was far stronger than any armor, making it unnecessary.
"I'll help you."
Baros slid the gauntlets on, tied the straps, and adjusted the fittings with practiced ease, helping Karnak suit up. Stepping back, he nodded appreciatively.
"You look truly imposing."
"…You're teasing me, right?"
"Of course! There's no way I'd be serious."
The armor hung loosely on Karnak's skinny frame, clanging with every movement, making him look like a heavily armed scarecrow.
Karnak glared.
"You really should've just turned that zombie of yours into a ghoul instead."
"Go ahead and try. Without me, who would you play with, master?"
"Tch."
Karnak walked back and forth in the armor, lifting his arms, swinging his legs, and drawing his sword to try a few light swings.
"Huh? It's not as heavy as I thought."
The knights he had met had boasted of moving swiftly even in heavy armor.
"So they were all just bluffing?"
"Of course," Baros replied.
Even a full set of iron armor isn't so heavy that one can't move at all—it's made to be worn by humans.
"Try running for five full minutes in that armor without stopping. You'll change your mind."
Karnak's face went pale.
"Five whole minutes? I can't even run that long without armor!"
Baros' expression hardened.
"What? Only five minutes? A healthy 20-year-old can't run for five minutes straight?"
The difference between a mind honed over a hundred years and a body honed over a hundred years was surprisingly vast.
"Strange… I remember you used to run fine when we were escaping?"
"That was with the help of necromantic power."
"You actually used necromancy just for a little mountain running?"
"Not exactly necromancy, just a bit of physical enhancement with necromantic energy."
"…."
Baros rubbed his forehead, letting out a heavy sigh.
"Ah, we have a long way to go…"
But at this point, there was no other choice. They would just have to do it.
"All right, let's begin knightly training!"
"Call it what it is. It's not actual knight training."
Karnak's tone turned serious.
"This is strictly training to act the part of a knight."