At the moment Jan III drew his sword in anger and aimed it at Jeong-hun, Ela took something out of her bosom.
It was a small dagger.
Don't.
Jeong-hun shook his head at Ela.
She obviously didn't intend to harm Jan or anyone else with it. Instead, she seemed to be planning a self-harm performance. It was clear she intended to show her will to her father and save Jeong-hun.
But Jeong-hun was against it. Such a performance would only anger the King more. This was a homework assignment Jeong-hun had to solve.
Although he thought it was too excessive an assignment for someone who had just fallen here.
"I am just a commoner."
Therefore, Jeong-hun brought up another story before Jan got angry.
I guarantee that right now, his brain was spinning more fiercely than ever since he was born.
"However, to speak without falsehood, this commoner is not a Tatar. I came from a kingdom far to the East, even farther than that."
"..."
Jan III's brow narrowed for a moment.
Jeong-hun accepted that the person in front of him was Jan III.
He looked too much like the portrait he saw at the Wilanów Palace Museum. He would think about why things turned out this way later; now was the time to deal with it.
Jeong-hun recalled Jan III's biography he had briefly read before.
Jan III was inherently a man of great curiosity.
His curiosity covered not only war, strategy, and state management but also humanities, engineering, and natural sciences.
Furthermore, Jan III had enjoyed listening to all kinds of adventure stories and heroic tales since childhood. And among those stories, there must have been things about the East.
Late 17th century.
The struggle for supremacy over the New World across the ocean between the greatest powers of the time, such as Spain, England, France, and the Netherlands.
It would have been a story that made Jan III, who lived in Eastern Europe far from the sea, sweat in his hands.
How could he not yearn for a wish that he could not reach as a monarch?
"Excuse me, Your Majesty, but have you seen many people who look similar to me among the Ottoman and Tatar enemies you have defeated so far?"
"How dare you ask such a question...!"
"Stop."
Jan restrained the soldier and slowly examined Jeong-hun.
"...Different. Who are you? Are you perhaps a Khitai?"
Tatar.
Originally, the word Tatar must have been a term used to lump together Mongols, Turks, and all kinds of Eastern barbarians. So it is true that Jeong-hun looks like a Tatar in a broad sense.
But times have changed a bit now.
More than three hundred years after the Yuan Dynasty fell, it was rather a time when the Tsardom of Rus (Russia) was expanding eastward.
So now the Rus people and Eastern Europeans were also distinguishing Tatars in their own detailed way.
First of all, Jeong-hun looked different from the surrounding Tatars.
Most of those called Tatars now had intermarried with neighboring countries.
The last nomadic empire that could be called close, the Dzungar Khanate, was in the midst of fighting with the Qing Dynasty, but even they were classified as Semuren (Colored-eyed people) in China.
Naturally, he would be a bit different from a Korean.
Jan III noticed this. As a monarch of a country who took the lead in fighting wars with Tatars, would he not know the surrounding Tatars? Besides, he himself had once commanded a Tatar cavalry unit.
Ah, this is a bit annoying.
Khitai... in other words, Khitan.
But there is no way the Khitan, which perished long ago, exists now.
Now the word Khitai was used by those ignorant of the current situation and Eastern affairs (especially Eastern Europe) to refer to China.
Jeong-hun, who had visited several museums located in Warsaw, knew this much.
But Jeong-hun also had wits. He didn't babble about the differences between Tatars, Khitai, and Joseon in front of the angry King. His life was precious.
"Although not completely the same, I came from near there."
"...From that far place to here? How can I believe those words?"
I must survive.
In this desperate and desperate situation, Jeong-hun felt his true potentials blossoming.
"Destiny, the Lord guided me here."
"..."
Until now, Jeong-hun was an atheist. His personality was such that he didn't particularly believe in religion because it was bothersome.
But now he had no time to quibble over such trivial matters. If he fell into this era, this land, he couldn't survive unless he was Catholic.
At this moment, his convictions were no different from rubber, stretching endlessly to fit the situation. Besides, in this situation, how could he be sure of his beliefs or faith?
On the other hand, Jan was a devout Catholic.
A time less than half a century after the end of the huge religious war, the Thirty Years' War.
In his youth, when individual religious freedom was proclaimed by the Treaty of Westphalia, Jan also had some skepticism about religion.
But not now.
In the end, religion was also an extension of politics. Given the Holy See and the pro-French/pro-Austrian diplomatic line, Jan had to be a devout Catholic.
Therefore, making the sign of the cross in front of him was definitely a positive factor.
But the anger of a father with a daughter was not easy enough to be softened by just making the sign of the cross once.
The blade still flashed.
Rather, it stuck closer to the skin. Now it seemed like blood would flow if he moved even a little.
"Didn't that destiny, the Lord, say that your destiny is to die here?"
"I know very well. If Your Majesty cuts me down, I will die as just a commoner."
"..."
"However, Your Majesty, isn't a man someone who pioneers his own destiny?"
Jeong-hun's eyes faced Jan III directly. Determined eyes full of spirit. Unlike the East, where looking straight at a monarch was considered rude, this much was okay here.
"If Your Majesty swings your sword right now and cuts me down, it will end with a mere commoner shedding dirty blood and dying in this audience chamber."
The blade still emits a sharp chill. But it wasn't terrifying anymore.
"But if you withdraw that sword, the Lord and Your Majesty will guide my destiny to a new place."
Jan frowned and spat out.
"...Where? To the lamb and wine you want? To beauties and gold coins? Truly vulgar...!"
Jeong-hun refuted the King's words.
"I apologize for saying this, Your Majesty, but the one who will hold the sword called me is Your Majesty. How would I know where its tip will head?"
Jeong-hun continued firmly.
"However, Your Majesty. I have already sworn to Her Highness Ela. To protect her safety and honor. Until this insignificant person's breath runs out."
".....!"
The same period when the Sun King Louis XIV ruled France.
There is no longer a place for knights on the battlefield. Cavalry still had to be served by the wealthy class, but it was gradually becoming estranged from the traditional feudal class.
But chivalry was still alive in the splendid palaces of absolute monarchy.
No, in some ways, it blossomed even more.
At this time when the authority of religion was disappearing after the Thirty Years' War, nobles were more obsessed with secular honor and glory.
Of course, it was more effective on women. Even on a modern person.
In Jeong-hun's eyes, he saw Ela's expression swallowed by waves of emotion in the distance.
She was crying heavily now. She was stifling her sobs, covering her mouth lest she provoke Jan.
Actually, I don't think what I said to her before I died meant that much.
Jeong-hun questioned his mouth that went beyond his will, but it was already spilt milk. From now on, he has no choice but to trust his survival instinct.
Jan III, who frowned, burst into anger. But for some reason, the intensity of that anger became weaker than before.
"You bastard... you bring up Ela until the end!"
Honestly, it was absurd.
If Jan III had been a King whose throne was hereditary by blood from the beginning, he wouldn't have even snorted at Jeong-hun's words.
But he knows well.
That great King standing here was the person who best fit the example Jeong-hun himself spoke of.
The Sobieski family, which established its position by making brilliant contributions on numerous battlefields for generations from a humble noble background.
Finally, in Jan III's generation, he led numerous battles to dazzling victories and was elected King by the Sejm.
Jan III was truly a self-made man who pioneered his own destiny.
A sharp silence hung for a long time.
During that time, the King's anger broke little by little.
After a time that felt like decades to Jeong-hun passed.
Finally, Jan spat out words with a sigh.
"It is not right for Us to cut down an unarmed citizen Ourselves."
"Your Majesty?"
[Clack.]
Despite the questions of the surrounding retainers, Jan slowly withdrew his sword.
Being a citizen meant that Jeong-hun was no longer a sinner. Now it was a sin to execute someone without sin. Even for a King, it is an action that would be recognized as tyranny and evil deeds.
"How can I make this man's sin a lie?"
For a sin to be established, there had to be a witness. His beautiful and kind daughter had to testify.
Jan glared at his daughter.
His daughter was still kneeling.
Only now she didn't even look at him.
She was still looking at that Tatar, no Khitai, no, that damn Oriental whose identity was unknown.
And with plenty of affection at that.
Won't you look at your father with that gaze?
Jan felt his stomach turn.
"Destiny..."
This impudent man still had a sin left.
The sin of trespassing into the palace.
Of course, even that might have been done with Ela's connivance, but that is not important now.
"You called yourself a sword."
"..."
"Yes, I admit it. It is a magnificent physique. Truly manly."
Jeong-hun's physique, reaching 186cm and 92kg, far exceeded the average of Poles in this era.
Of course, Jeong-hun, the person in question, felt a little prick of conscience.
Honestly, he did less lifting since coming to Europe.
First of all, preparing for the tournament was the priority, and daily passes for European gyms were too expensive.
After meeting Ela, the construction of the flat where he lived with her was the priority, so doing only bodyweight exercises and dumbbells for a while was everything. He had to reflect.
On the other hand, for Jan, that amount was more than enough; it was great.
Although he was wearing rags right now, he had seen enough when he was hugging his daughter naked. He hated to admit it, but it was quite impressive.
Jan himself was like that in the past.
As he got older, he gained weight, and now illness was swallowing him little by little.
But even he had a time when he was such a vigorous young man.
Jan III's eyes flashed with unbearable greed.
A self-made monarch who lived half his life on the battlefield. Such a monarch is inevitably hungry for talent.
An alien whom the breath of the Sejm does not reach.
Jan stroked his chin and fell into thought.
Tatars are born enemies of Eastern Europe. But times have changed.
Yesterday's enemy could be today's comrade.
Even Jan III, who fought so much with the Ottoman-Tatar allied forces, did not conclude that they would be eternal enemies.
Also, they were the best as mercenaries. They, who have no connection with local nobles, served only the contractor or monarch for material rewards or pure loyalty.
If that man is truly neither Ottoman nor Tatar, it was rather good.
Isn't he rather better than the Polish nobles who commit all kinds of trickery behind the King's back all the time?
Therefore, Jan felt a strange feeling.
Everything was strange.
His daughter suddenly changing like that. Such a bizarre thing happening in the heavily guarded palace garden by the river, where there was almost no invasion by outsiders.
And that it was an alien rarely seen in the surroundings.
And even the dream he had the day before.
Is destiny really leading that bastard?
There was only one way to prove this. Jan looked at the guy's face. Yes, I decided how to use you.
"From tomorrow, you will stand in the front line of Our cavalry, the Winged Hussars."
Winged Hussars.
The strongest cavalry in Europe that established the highest prestige in the Siege of Vienna under his command.
Perhaps making this impudent man serve in his precious unit might be giving honor rather than punishment.
But Jan III didn't want to execute that bastard meaninglessly either.
For his daughter, and as the bastard said, for the glory of the Commonwealth, he gathered all his remaining patience and granted mercy.
"So pray to the Lord that your destiny can lead you to the right place."
❋ ❋ ❋
It was late at night.
Jeong-hun was sitting in the castle prison. He was tired but sleep didn't come.
By dawn tomorrow, he had to go somewhere else. To the army.
Fucking hell.
Second service in his life, and even a service where the discharge date is not set! He kicked the wall in a fit of anger. And screamed a soundless scream.
[Creeak.]
Suddenly the prison door opened. Jeong-hun was startled. Even more so after seeing the person who entered.
"How did you come here?"
Ela, who took off her robe without a word, approached him. Hugged in his arms, she gave him a long, long kiss.
"...I didn't brush my teeth so it smells."
"Do you care about that right now?"
She sighed and held out a few things from the basket she brought. Butter, jam, bread, and sausage.
Just looking at that, it was clearly visible how anxious she must have been wondering if Jeong-hun was starving in prison.
Actually, until he met the King this afternoon, they only gave him a little water and didn't give him a proper meal. Was it death row treatment?
"Don't complain that there isn't much protein. I was going to boil eggs but it took too long so I couldn't bring them."
Jeong-hun burst into a hollow laugh. Saying thank you wasn't enough, so he hugged Ela tightly.
The two sat on the prison bed. The given conversation time was only about a few minutes.
"This right now, it is really reality, right?"
"Yeah."
A short answer. But the two no longer asked back or expressed doubts. For that, everything, every sense was vivid and concrete.
Rather, he doesn't know how fortunate it is that she came here together.
It reduced the time of emotional wandering. If she hadn't been there, Jeong-hun would have been really in pain.
"Tomorrow I'll be assigned to the Winged Hussars."
"...Yeah."
"I brought some money. Use this."
As most cavalry did, the Polish Hussars were also served by nobles and the wealthy class.
Their horses, armor, weapons, everything was money. There was nothing he could do if he was assigned with just his body.
Would Jan III, who was already full of anger, care about Jeong-hun's trivial circumstances?
Ela knew that. So she scraped together the emergency funds she had saved and the money she could get from around her to the maximum.
If there had been enough time, she would have sold jewelry or clothes too.
Jeong-hun bit his lip tightly. Thanks to her, tears were about to come out. Instead, he hugged her once more.
"What about you?"
"Father said he would find a marriage partner for me."
His two eyes opened wide.
To be honest, the shock now was greater than being interrogated in front of the King during the day.
Ela looked at Jeong-hun's expression reacting as if the sky had collapsed and chuckled.
"Don't worry. I plan to go to a convent soon."
"What?"
Jeong-hun looked at her with eyes demanding an explanation, asking what kind of thunderbolt out of the blue this was.
"It doesn't mean perpetual vows."
Ela explained.
She planned to go to a convent to avoid unwanted arranged marriage and to study and collect information about this era.
The convent of this time also functioned as a school for noble women.
"Promise me, you must survive. You must survive so we can see each other again."
Jeong-hun felt her hand hugging him trembling minutely.
Both knew well why Jan III assigned Jeong-hun to the Hussars. A glorious army.
But a place where many people die. Jan III, who placed Jeong-hun there, was quite intentional.
Poland was precarious right now.
Superficially, it is somewhat peaceful. The Great Turkish War is in full swing, but the theater is far. After the second Siege of Vienna, Poland was catching its breath. There was no domestic or international war where they were the main subject right now.
But neighboring countries were still powerful. While they were becoming powerful, conversely, Poland was becoming weak.
Furthermore, the inside of the Commonwealth was festering as much as it could.
Even the monarch who achieved such great achievements could not handle the Commonwealth at his will. The Sejm obstructed the monarch at every turn, and local nobles and Hetmans each dreamed different dreams.
So the Winged Hussars are destined to go to war at any time.
Ela was afraid of that fact.
This man in her arms looked more reliable and strong than anyone else, but he is still a person who bleeds if stabbed by a spear or sword.
"Yeah, I promise."
But behind her back, Jeong-hun's eyes looking at the stars rising outside the dark window were rather shining strangely.
(End of Chapter)
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