9. A Good Sword
Since both the Academy and the Intelligence Agency were located in the capital, Galahad mostly stayed in the capital.
The capital was incredibly clean. The ground was paved with smooth stones, and there was a sewage system, so there was no filth.
The people all walked around in suits like crows, and the air was thick with the smell of perfume.
It was more because of the wizards employed by the imperial family than because the people washed themselves thoroughly.
Compared to that, the north was terrible. I heard that it was bad, but when I actually came here, it wasn’t just bad.
The streets were slushy with half-melted snow mixed with animal waste, and the people were so dirty that they looked black and skinny.
I wondered if there had been a separate Black Death in the north.
“Are the squires over there?”
The place where the squires that Gilbert had brought were gathered was a step worse than that.
Most of the houses were collapsed, and there were houses that had been poorly built with wood between them.
A cripple hobbled along, and a guy with one arm missing snickered as he watched him.
“Yes, all those who are useful are on the front lines.”
“So only the cripples who can’t go to the front lines are squiring.”
“That’s about it.”
“How convenient.”
‘There was a reason why I set the condition that the grand duke should be among the squires.’
In other words, it meant that I should find them myself at the waste disposal site.
Everyone’s gaze followed as Galahad, dressed in a neat coat, and the armed knight Gilbert walked together.
Those who cursed, saying that they were knights from the cursed west, hid in a panic when Gilbert’s gaze met theirs.
“I’m quite famous. I should practice my autograph.”
“Are you okay with being called a knight from the west?”
“Of course. Isn’t it every man’s dream to meet a beautiful and capable woman and live comfortably?”
“Not mine.”
“What is your dream?”
“I…”
Gilbert, who had unconsciously started to speak, shut his mouth tight.
“Why did you stop talking? Do you know the two things that make people angry?”
“What are they?”
“Dumb wizards and smart knights.”
“I get the dumb wizards, but why do smart knights make people angry?”
“If a knight is smart, his sword will be slow. Your sword must be very fast.”
“······?”
Gilbert pointed to one side. There was a cluster of shacks. Shacks-.
‘They’re no different from orcs.’
I wondered how they endured in shacks in such a cold place.
Gilbert stopped in front of the shabbiest and most wretched-looking shack among the shacks.
A boy was sitting under four or five pieces of bundled rags.
With his disheveled hair and torn clothes, he looked like a beggar, but his appearance was quite good.
Even the snot on his face couldn’t hide the boy’s cuteness.
He was a boy who looked like a noble, but his eyes were truly clear.
Gilbert pointed at the boy.
“Damian, he has strange swordsmanship.”
“Strange swordsmanship?”
“He may not be a swordsman, but he’s incredibly skilled at capturing demons.”
“Is he even old enough to grow hair?”
“Does that matter?”
“Just kidding. He’s young and a skilled fighter, so why is he in the fortress?”
“The troops that Damian was in were annihilated by demons. He’s the only survivor.”
“If he’s the only survivor of a troop that was wiped out by demons, then he should be taken care of even more. But, you said ‘troops’?”
“It’s happened about four times. Because of that, other troops don’t want to accept him, so he’s currently on standby. He’ll probably be assigned to reconnaissance soon.”
Gilbert trailed off. The only survivor of four annihilated troops-.
“Is there any chance that a kid did it?”
“No. A thorough investigation has been completed.”
Hmm-. Galahad let out a murmur. The investigation would have been even more rigorous because it was on the front lines.
However, the fact that no evidence was found meant that it was highly unlikely that a kid had done it.
“I suppose his skills are useful.”
“Yes, definitely.”
Flicking his cigarette, Galahad approached the boy. The boy was covered in bruises and scars. Some of them hadn’t healed yet.
‘Is he being bullied? We don’t need weaklings here…’
Galahad clicked his tongue softly.
The boy was gaping at the sky with his mouth wide open.
“Are you eating the sky?”
“I’m thirsty.”
“I see. Do you want a drink?”
“It tastes like lemon today.”
Galahad hid his cigarette behind his back. The boy was still staring at the sky.
Galahad looked at Gilbert with a frown at the boy’s foolish behavior. Gilbert shrugged.
Galahad clicked his tongue and sat down next to the boy. Only then did the boy look at Galahad.
There wasn’t a single emotion in those eyes. They were familiar eyes.
They were similar to the ones he had seen at the intelligence agency. Are they brothers? No, that one was black.
The difference was that unlike the one drenched in murderous intent, the boy’s eyes were still clear.
The boy opened his mouth.
“You look strange.”
Galahad raised the corners of his lips at the unexpected evaluation.
“Damian, you look strange too. You have an air of nobility about you. Are your parents nobles?”
“No, my mother is a prostitute.”
Galahad was speechless for the first time at the unexpected introduction of his parents.
“Impressive. Not just anyone can be a prostitute. It means that you have enough charm to make people pay money. So, what does your father do?”
“Well, he’s one of four.”
“Schrödinger’s father.”
“Schrödinger?”
“It means mysterious.”
Damian muttered ‘Schrödinger’ several times. He seemed to like the meaning of the word.
“I’ve come to fetch you.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. I hear you’re quite skilled with a blade.”
“Oh, I dabble.”
“Quite the confidence you’ve got there. I’ve just started a special forces unit today, and I’ll be having you join.”
“I’ll have to decline.”
Galahad looked at Gilbert upon hearing Damian’s curt refusal. Gilbert shrugged. What a mischievous little brat.
“And why is that?”
“Everyone around me dies. You seem like a nice person, sir, and I’d hate to see you die.”
His voice was noticeably hoarse. Galahad winced.
“First off, I’m not a sir, I’m a young man. That gentleman over there is the sir. Now, call me young man.”
“Young man,”
Gilbert’s face crumpled as Galahad referred to himself as ‘sir’.
“Secondly, I’m not a nice person. I’m trying to be a good person, but it’s hard. And thirdly, did you kill my unit members?”
“The demons killed them.”
“Nasty demons.”
“Yes, nasty demons.”
Contrary to his words, Damian’s voice was completely monotone.
“If you blame yourself for that, won’t the demons who stole your kills be upset?”
“That’s true.”
“You’re quick on the uptake.”
“I’ll still get everyone killed if I join.”
“Don’t you worry about that. I’ve got quite a long lifeline.”
Damian looked Galahad up and down.
“You look frail though.”
“Looks can be deceiving.”
After a moment of contemplation, the boy nodded.
“Alright. I didn’t have anything else to do anyway.”
“Damian, you are now a member of the special forces unit. This is by order of His Majesty the Grand Duke-. Now, boy, get up.”
“Yes, young man.”
Damian got up from his seat with a groan. His sword scraped against the floor.
Gilbert couldn’t make sense of the two who had shared a strange conversation and gotten up together.
Unfortunately for him, the two didn’t bother to explain themselves.
***
Since Damian looked like he was starving, Galahad took him to a tavern.
“I’ll bring the rest. Don’t get into any accidents. This is a place even His Majesty the Grand Duke has given up on, with all sorts of mercenary riffraff mixed in. If you die here, they won’t even find your body.”
Gilbert disappeared after warning them several times.
‘They won’t even find your body-.’
Galahad rolled the words around in his mouth.
“Do you often get into accidents?”
“Criminals think geniuses’ irregularities are simple accidents.”
“Aha.”
I patted Damian’s nodding head.
The man who seemed to be the owner of the tavern spat on the floor. He was carrying a rusty iron club in one arm. He looked like a northern hook captain.
“Get lost! I told you never to come again! Unlucky punk!”
“Your reputation is quite bad.”
“That’s right.”
“At your age, if you just greet people well, they’ll like you. Here, try it.”
“Hello.”
“You have to bow your head a little more.”
“Hello…”
“What the hell is this son of ab*tch doing?”
Galalad clicked his tongue at the harsh curse. The tavern owner brandished the iron club in his right hand. Was he threatening him?
“I’m Galalad. Nice to meet you, cool one-armed friend.”
“Who’s your friend! F*ck-“
Galalad quickly put his hand on the man’s club. As the man tried to curse, sparks flew out of his mouth.
The man, who had been glaring, staggered and leaned to the side.
“I guess you can come in. Come on, come in.”
“Did you kill him?”
“No, he just fell asleep for a while. He’ll have a very good dream.”
Galalad stepped on the man’s bulging belly and entered the tavern.
Noisy sounds, lukewarm heat, and the smell of dirty sweat greeted them first.
“Good.”
Men with one eye missing or something else lacking were making a lot of noise. Wrinkled women burst into sharp laughter among them.
The floor was covered with uncleaned bones and broken glasses, leaving no room to step on. A strange singing voice could be heard somewhere.
As they entered, the noisy sounds stopped abruptly. All eyes were focused on them.
The one-eyed guys blew their noses. Some of them touched the swords tied around their waists.
“It seems like you’re hated as much as I am?”
“It’s my fault.”
“No, it’s not your fault. I guarantee it.”
Galalad raised his hand and shouted.
“Nice to meet you all! I’m the captain of the special forces, Galalad! If you have all your limbs and are confident in your skills, apply! I don’t look at personality!”
The atmosphere, which had been sharp anyway, became even more intense.
“There are no manners here. No one greets me.”
At Galalad’s grumbling, Damian belatedly waved his hand.
Galalad chuckled and headed to the table in the center. It was a great table with sword marks engraved here and there.
“Order whatever you want to eat.”
“Really?”
“I don’t lie.”
Damian’s eyes sparkled. He must be really hungry.
Galahad raised his hand to order, but it wasn’t a waitress who came to take his order, but a man drinking at the next table.
He slammed his fist on the table. It must have hurt. Galahad muttered softly and looked up.
The man looked at Galahad and smirked.
“What the hell, who said I smelled like a damn demon? Oh, it’s a little magician?”
The bearded man put his hand on Damien’s shoulder and stared at Galahad.
‘So it was that bastard.’
The size of his fist was similar to the bruise near Damien’s ribs. Galahad’s eyes sank.
“First of all, magic and demons are very different. Be careful when you say that in the capital, or you’ll be called an ignorant kid.”
From noble mtl dot com
“······An ignorant kid?”
“You might hear something like that. Are you ignorant?”
The man shook his head unconsciously.
“So be careful not to be misunderstood.”
The man’s face twisted. Yellow fluid dripped from the man’s empty eye sockets.
He thought there was something about Galahad’s leisurely attitude, and he glanced at Damien.
‘Why do these guys ignore magicians?’
Galahad genuinely wondered.
Just then, the man, who had hesitated for a moment, turned his gaze to Damien. It seemed that he had something to do with him.
“If you have money to come to a bar, you should bring it to me. You damn bastard.”
“I don’t have any money.”
“You came to a bar without money? What the hell-. I thought you were hiding money! Damn it, kid.”
“Is Damien in debt?”
Galahad asked, raising his right hand. The man gritted his teeth.
“Is that any of your business?”
“Now that he’s my member, it’s my business.”
“Then are you going to pay for him?”
“We’re not close enough for that yet.”
“Damn it! Then just shut up! Before I smash that mug!”
“Whoa-. Calm down. Maybe. Will I pay for him?”
“So you’re going to pay for him?”
“Well, let me hear about it.”
The man’s face crumpled even more. His jaundiced eyes wandered for a moment. Then the men behind him got up from their seats and approached.
The man’s shoulders went up again. He was a simpleton.
“The unit member this bastard killed was my friend. Very close-.”
“Aha, I see. So you lent him money?”
“Why would I lend money to a bastard who eats unit members like that?”
“Then why are you asking him to bring money?”
“Because that bastard killed a unit member!”
“Did you kill a unit member?”
“No. I don’t want to take credit for someone else’s work.”
“That’s right. Stealing is bad.”
“What are you doing right now. This damn brat.”
“Hold on for a bit.”
Galahad took out a silver coin from his inner pocket and placed it on the table. The man’s mouth shut. The men quickly exchanged glances.
The pub became so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Clank, the sound of the door being locked could be heard. A den of thieves, Galahad clicked his tongue softly.
“Was the squad member who passed away your family?”
“He was a comrade who was like family.”
The man answered while gesturing to the side. A sharp sound, like something being pulled out, could be heard from the side.
“So he wasn’t family. Then why are you receiving the money?”
“Because he was a very close comrade.”
“Hmm, no matter how strange the Empire’s laws are, there’s no law that states that an inheritance can be passed on to a comrade.”
“What the hell is the law-“
Rough curses came pouring out. A hot heat could be felt. Even the middle-aged woman was standing with a kitchen knife in her hand.
‘What an uncultured place.’
Galahad clicked his tongue softly and looked at Damian.
“Come to think of it, you are also at fault for your squad member’s death.”
“That’s not true.”
“You are weak, that’s why your squad member died. If you were strong, would your squad member have died?”
“That’s true.”
Galahad stared at Damian. Damian’s focus became clearer.
At that moment, a loud noise could be heard from behind. The sound of swords being drawn, excited gasps-. It was the song of those who didn’t know the subject.
“Everyone makes mistakes. What’s important is not making the same mistake.”
“I understand.”
Damian nodded his head.
“Now, I am in danger. Save me. Damian.”
Galahad let out a small scream. The men who had been drawing their swords at his strange behavior paused awkwardly.
“Yes! Hyung!”
Damian answered with vigor and drew his sword.
The condition of Damian’s sword was not good. Rust had formed in various places, and uncleaned bloodstains were smeared here and there. It was a rusty sword that looked like you would get tetanus just by grazing it.
A silver line was drawn in the air. The line was incredibly clean.
The man whose arm had been cut off screamed and collapsed. The spurting blood drenched Damian. Damian opened his mouth wide. Like when you eat something delicious-.
“Aah!”
Damian let out an excited sigh.
‘He’s a natural.’
Damian rolled forward.
The way he held the sword was very unusual. The way he held it in reverse grip was as if he had never held a sword in his life. His movements were also closer to that of a street thug than a swordsman.
It was crude and disorderly. But strangely enough, it was sharper than any knight Galahad had ever seen.
The boy’s talent was not swordsmanship, but killing.
“Kill him-! Kill that unlucky bastard!”
“Get back!”
The pub became a chaotic mess in an instant. Damian moved smoothly amidst the attacks that were being poured out indiscriminately.
His movements were more akin to a dance than swordsmanship.
“His swordsmanship is rather peculiar.”
When his cigarette was half-finished,
Damian was the only one standing in the tavern. Galahad was sitting down.
“Welcome to the Special Forces.”
Damian nodded at Galahad’s congratulations. The excitement on Damian’s face quickly faded.
‘Is he a natural-born killer?’
You’ve got a good sword.
Galahad flicked the finished cigarette to the floor.
At that moment, the door was roughly opened. Captain Hook, the etiquette, came in cursing.
“You despicable little sorcerer! You dare to take advantage of my moment of carelessness-?!”
Captain Hook, who was spitting out curses with relish, trailed off as his face turned red. Fear appeared on his face.
Captain Hook hesitated for a moment, trying to figure out the situation, and was about to slip out again when –
“I’ll have an order.”
Galahad raised his right hand.
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