‘Why did I end up in such a state?’
Kassel was lying down, staring up at the sky. He pondered when he had last leisurely gazed at the sky like this, or even simply lied down in peace. Perhaps it was the first time since he left his hometown, but he couldn’t remember well. His recent memories from the past month consisted of nothing but cutting grass with a sickle, carrying rations, and moving around.
‘Did I lie down three days ago after spear training? No, right after that, I packed up for the journey. We forced our way through two days’ distance in a single day, so they might have given us a break as a reward? Everyone fell asleep scattered around. Did I sleep then too? Ah, I was called out to make supper. Let’s exclude the dozing off while waiting. That’s not exactly lying down. That’s right! I crouched and slept next to the wheat straw bales four days ago. I got beaten up terribly for that, but at least I slept lying down. So, I’ve lain down after four days.’
Somewhere, he heard the sound of dozens of horses galloping. Kassel quickly closed his eyes.
This morning, a battle started out of nowhere. Kassel didn’t know whether it was an enemy ambush or part of their own plan. All he did was move forward when the commander ordered a charge and retreat when they ordered to fall back. He held his spear and made a rallying cry as instructed, but he was swept along so much that he didn’t even know who the enemy was.
Kassel was pushed down by enemy soldiers without even thrusting his spear once. The one who pushed him was a young soldier, younger than Kassel, who choked on his own blood and died on top of him.
‘That could’ve been me.’
Kassel lay there underneath the dead body. Even amidst the deafening screams and roars right next to him, he didn’t budge. Only when the battle noise died down after half a day did he open his eyes, but he still didn’t get up.
Kassel laid there, waiting for the sound of horse hooves to fade away, and thought.
‘I should’ve never indulged in such stupidity in the first place. I should’ve quietly followed in my father’s footsteps and farmed wheat in my hometown.’
Kassel didn’t know how to handle a sword, nor was he particularly fast or strong. His father taught him how to ride a horse, a skill that would be useful for farming, but as a rankless foot soldier who would never be allowed to ride a horse, it was of no help in battle.
There was nothing Kassel contributed to the victory or defeat of today’s battle. He survived without even earning a war merit of killing an extra enemy.
‘I should have just listened to my father back then.’
Regret filled Kassel as he thought about the events a month ago.
☆ ☆ ☆
“You’re going to war? The Folas next door will laugh.”
My father spoke loudly with a hearty laugh. In truth, Kassel could not refute him, as he once lost a wooden sword duel to Paula, who was only fourteen at the time.
“My boy, it’s a blessing that Lurun village is removed from the battlefield. Where else in the Kingdom of Camort will you find a village with a granary still filled with enough food to stave off hunger for this year and enough grain in the fields to live plentifully next year? So, why insist on going to the battlefield?”
Kassel would realize the truth in his father’s words a month later, but at that moment, it seemed like mere nagging.
“Father, have you heard about Luchi?”
Even knowing he couldn’t win an argument with his father, Kassel opened his mouth.
“Ah, the scoundrel who proclaimed he would become a war hero and then took off?”
“He has returned.”
“Well, he actually managed to survive and come back, huh.”
His father spoke with a tone of sarcasm.
“It’s not just that he survived.”
Luchi had returned to the village in silver armor and a cloak embroidered with red roses three months after he left. Kassel was so dazzled by Luchi, riding a horse adorned with lavish ornaments and even accompanied by a squire, he could barely look directly at him.
“That guy, he has become a member of the Rose Knights. Remember him? He was no better than me.”
“He was a much worse than you. He was vicious and greedy, always looking to cheat others as if it was his daily bread, and full of vanity. At fifteen, he boasted about trying and failing to assault a widow from the neighboring village… We should have banished him during the village meeting at that time.”
“But Father! He’s a knight, a knight. It seems like you don’t understand what that means. Shall I explain it to you slowly? And the Rose Knights are currently one of the top knight orders in Camort.”
Kassel raised his voice in excitement.
“So, nowadays, do they call anyone a knight if they put armor on mercenaries? Son, war is where hundreds of people die each day. The higher your rank, the more likely you are to die. Luchi is smart enough to seize the position of a fallen superior. It’s a cycle; once someone dies and you take their place, then someone else is waiting to take yours. And as far as I know, we are in the midst of a war, why did he come back home? Maybe he’s not essential, and he can just leave?”
“He came to recruit soldiers. That’s important.”
“He came to his hometown to recruit people to die in his place on the battlefield? That son of a bitch!”
My father spat out a curse.
“He’s now picking people to die in his stead so he can get promoted! Are you envious of that?”
Kassel was going crazy from the frustration of his father’s incommunicative nature. He was desperate to show his father the feather-decorated helmet and the dazzling greatsword that Luchi had brought. The value of the sword alone seemed enough to buy not only all the farming tools in the village of Lurun, but also everything in the blacksmith’s and the mill.
“Father, who do you think Luchi is with right now?”
“Perhaps he went to the bull he’s been eyeing to butcher before going to war?”
“It’s Janette.”
“Janette?”
Only then did his father show a hint of surprise.
“Yes. Even though I’ve been nice to her, she didn’t give me the time of day, and now she’s with Luchi…”
Kassel could not finish what he was about to say. Heavens, that rascal was laying his filthy hands on her radiant figure! But his father soon returned to his unfazed tone.
“Heh, that guy sure is quick. Well, isn’t it a good thing for them? Janette has always wanted to go to the big city and marry a knight, and Luchi has been openly boasting about wanting to make Janette, the village’s top beauty, his own. They’re a good match.”
When Kassel opened his mouth in shock, his father teased him.
“Look at you, did you have feelings for Janette? If so, why didn’t you confess earlier? Ah, right. I may have been out of line. It’s unlikely that a guy who spends his time reading books in bed would have the guts to do that. Wait! So the reason you’re saying you’re going to the battlefield is because you want to be like Luchi, whom you think is so lucky?”
“You don’t know anything, Father!”
Kassel stormed out of the house.
‘No, leaving like this means I’ve lost, doesn’t it?’
Kassel immediately regretted his actions, but he couldn’t bring himself to go back.
He could never win a war of words against his father. Even though his father was a farmer who had spent his life only farming, he never had a losing trade even when dealing with veteran merchants, and he even made a madman who was running around with a sword drop it voluntarily. Even Luchi, the village troublemaker, would avoid him at first glance. When trouble arose in the village, the elders would look for him before the village head. No, even the village head would hurriedly seek his father whenever trouble occurred. Look here, my wife ran away again! What should I do?
‘A man should act rather than talk. Even that stupid Luchi did it. Why can’t I? I will become a knight too.’
A knight gallantly riding into the battlefield entangled with thousands of soldiers! Every night before going to sleep, Kassel would imagine himself as a knight.
The first person Kassel sought out was the mercenary ‘Gubra’. He was a retired mercenary who traveled around the rural villages after retiring, operating a sword training center.
At twenty, Kassel had once emptied his savings to secretly learn swordsmanship without his father knowing. However, the brutally honest man who taught him for about two months refused to accept the tuition fee at the beginning of the third month, saying,
‘You don’t seem to have a knack for the sword. So don’t come anymore.’
Even when Kassel tried to visit a few more times, he was harshly refused, and his secret was revealed to his father.
After that, Kassel had several drinks with Gubra, growing closer to him, but there was no further instruction in swordsmanship. Still, he thought that on this visit, their friendship might secure him an introduction to the draft officer. But even this hope was dashed.
“Luchi, um, should I call him Knight Luchi now? Knight Luchi had an extraordinary talent for the sword. He was so talented that he matched me in just a year. Of course, it’s common to find mercenaries as good as me on the battlefield, but for a young man just over twenty, that’s pretty good. That’s why I thought that with Luchi’s skills, he would somehow survive the war, so I introduced him to some people in the army. But to introduce you? My goodness, if I send you to the battlefield, I won’t be able to live peacefully in this village.”
Gubra tried to calm Kassel down by explaining the situation. Damn it, he would have been better off asking for a lot of money!
“Is there no way for me to go to the battlefield?”
Kassel asked.
“Don’t ask like you’re asking for directions to the market, and don’t look at me with those passionate eyes.”
Gubra shook his head with a troubled look on his face.
“Is there a way or not?”
Gubra let out a long sigh.
“Fine. Let’s say I write a recommendation for you to join the army of the Red Rose Count. The nearest place is a hundred miles away. How are you going to get there?”
“I’ll… walk…”
“How many days do you think it will take?”
When Kassel didn’t answer, Gubra spoke as if admonishing him.
“I guarantee, within a day of leaving the village, you’ll encounter bandits at least three times. Going there alone, what kind of foolish talk is that? This is one of the safest villages in Camort. In other villages, people live worrying about war or bands of bandits, but people here live worrying whether it will rain tomorrow or not. Go home and work on your farming.”
Kassel had no choice but to return to the house he’d stormed out of as if he were never coming back. His father had prepared dinner for two.
“Already victorious from battle and returned, my knight? Come, let’s toast to victory.”
His father said, filling a wooden cup with wine. The one who toasted to victory was his father, and Kassel had to swallow the bitter cup of defeat.
The rumors spread quickly. Damn that Gubra!
Upon hearing that Kassel was leaving the village, even the hard-of-hearing elders came running out, leaning on their canes, hobbling. Kassel was taken aback by the villagers’ vehement reaction.
“Why would a smart lad like you entertain such thoughts? You are always destined to become the head of our Lurun village. Haven’t you heard from your father that the villagers are pooling money to fund your education? You can’t waste such a promising life in the meaningless war games of the nobles. Reflect on all the studies you’ve pursued so far. You have been trained in scholarship, not swordsmanship.”
The village head clung tightly to Kassel’s hand and spoke earnestly. Kassel felt somewhat humbled. He had regarded himself as useless and talentless, not knowing how to wield a sword, and it was strangely gratifying to be praised in other aspects, even if it was just empty talk. But everything was shattered by a single comment from Luchi, who had been watching from the side.
“Imbecile, are you really swayed by the words of these old people?”
Next to Luchi stood Janette, shyly folding her arms. She was all smiles, a stark contrast from her usual haughty demeanor that barely even broke into a grin. This alone was enough for Kassel to lose half his sanity. Damn him, what kind of poison did he feed to that angel last night?
“In the current world, what’s the use of scholarship?”
Luchi continued, laughing loudly.
“From what I’ve seen, only those wielding swords can command on the battlefield, and those devising the strategies are all clad in armor and shields. There’s no place for scholars flaunting their pens. Only a sword can protect a village, only a sword can win a woman. Well, obedient and good Kassel, the old folks will probably arrange a nice girl for you themselves.”
“You noisy brat, if you’re thinking of conscripting soldiers from this village, leave right now.”
The village head shouted angrily.
“Shut up, old man! Want me to tell you how quickly my troops would arrive if I informed my superiors about a village chock-full of food supplies for our army?”
As Luchi growled, the village head recoiled in fear.
Kassel could not hold back and yelled.
“Let’s put to the test whether I, who only knows how to flaunt a pen, can fit into the battlefield. Want to see if I can rise to a higher rank than you in just a few days?”
Though he spoke in the heat of the moment, he felt he could actually do it once the words were out. To ascend faster and higher in rank than Luchi!
Luchi seemed to have been waiting for this. He wrote a recommendation letter for Kassel and issued orders to assign him to a particular unit. A letter truly arrived three days later. The elderly conscription officer tried to read the letter to Kassel, but Kassel snatched it and read it himself.
The conscription officer looked on in surprise.
“Do you even know how to read?”
Kassel did not respond to the question, instead he asked,
“How do I get to the conscription center written here?”
“Sir Luchi will take you close by.”
“Understood.”
The conscription officer left, and Kassel stood holding the letter for a long while.
His hand trembled, causing the letter to shake as well.
“Don’t go if you don’t want to,” his father said, observing him as if watching a spectacle.
“It’s too late to turn back now.”
“Why? Just burn the letter and go dig irrigation ditches in the field. Plenty have fallen out.”
“Do you intend to make me a coward?”
Kassel defiantly tucked the letter into his clothes, glaring at his father.
“Who’s calling you a coward? Luchi? You’re interested in people who want you dead but won’t listen to those who care for you. Pathetic.”
His father clucked his tongue and shook his head. He didn’t speak to Kassel until the day he left. Kassel, out of spite, didn’t speak either. On the morning of departure, his father was sitting in the rocking chair placed in their front yard, leisurely smoking a cigarette he wouldn’t usually light.
Kassel, adjusting his bag, asked, “Do you have anything to say?”
“Don’t stand in the middle of a fight where people kill each other. You’ll end up killing and being killed.”
Kassel scowled at his father’s sour words.
“What do you think I’m heading into? A battlefield. A battlefield where people kill each other!”
Exhaling a long puff of cigarette smoke, his father replied,
“Then don’t stand in that place.”
“So, you’re begging me not to go?”
His father retorted with an inscrutable smile,
“If begging would stop you from going, you wouldn’t have packed your bags in the first place.”
Kassel took that as his father’s final taunt. So, without a response, he turned and left.
The villagers were shocked and tried to stop Kassel when they realized he was actually leaving the village. Even Janette was surprised. She didn’t seem too shocked when she found out that Luchi, after only three days, had left her for another woman.
Would Kassel have stayed if Janette had tried to stop him? Of course, he didn’t mind that she spent a night with Luchi, who was even worse than a pest destroying wheat crops. If only she had flashed him the same smile she had shown Luchi even once, he might have pretended to be persuaded. But Janette, with her hopeless eloquence, only hastened Kassel’s departure.
“Going to war? But you can’t even fight better than me. You’ll be killed in no time.”
So, Kassel left Lurun village. As planned, Luchi lent him a horse and guided him on his way. They didn’t talk during the journey until they reached a crossroad where Luchi finally said,
“You’re going to stand above me? Let’s see you try.”
“Of course! Just you wait.”
“Ah, right. You have to return the horse.”
Kassel was taken aback.
“We are still far from there, aren’t we?”
“Walk. That horse belongs to the Rose Knight squad. Do you really think I’d give an entire horse to a mere soldier like you? I brought you this far because it’s you.”
Left with no choice, Kassel dismounted the horse. Luchi took the horse and departed. As he left, a cruel smile was etched in his retreating gaze.
Kassel trudged on foot for two days. Gubra’s warning of encountering bandits haunted him throughout the journey. Fortunately, he managed to reach the troop station mentioned in the letter without any major incident.
It was then that he realized he’d been fooled by Luchi. This place was a frontline base preparing for the next battle.
He also came to know the truth of Janette’s words. There was nothing he could do on the battlefield since he could not fight.
He realized that his father’s last advice was of no use. He was told not to stand in the center of life and death, but here, dozens of lives evaporated in an instant, with no time to determine the center of the battlefield.
Surviving the war, he gazed dumbly at the sky. The person he wanted to see the most was his father. He thought he would miss Janette the most, but he could not even remember her face. He longed only for his father. He knew if his father saw him pretending to be dead amidst the corpses and dust, he would undoubtedly say in his undisturbed voice, “Look at this guy,” and tease him, but that was okay.
Tears streamed down Kassel’s cheek as he lay there.
His first experience of battle was not to protect loved ones, the glory of the country, or to display the dignity of humans—it wasn’t that kind of grand battle.
His first target with a spear was a soldier boy younger and more frightened than Kassel. Perhaps the boy had also left his hometown and was experiencing his first battle, with Kassel as his first opponent. Both were so terrified of each other that they couldn’t do anything.
The mercenary beside him slashed the boy’s neck. Blood spewed from the wound and splattered onto Kassel’s face. The mercenary who had cut down the boy was subsequently impaled on an enemy soldier’s spear and died. As the mercenary fell, he knocked over the boy, who was bleeding from his neck, and Kassel was knocked down by the boy.
And he had been lying there ever since. The boy’s corpse still lay atop Kassel’s body.
“Father.”
Kassel covered his face with his hands and wept.
“I was wrong. I was never envious of Luchi. I guess I didn’t really like Janette either. I just…”
Unable to finish his words, Kassel wept helplessly.
☆ ☆ ☆
Until sunset, Kassel lay unmoving. As the wind subsided, the smell of blood and decay intensified, but his sense of smell was no longer registering it. However, the mere fact of being surrounded by rotting corpses was unbearable.
When the scales of fear and disgust tipped towards disgust, Kassel lifted his head and surveyed his surroundings with swollen, weeping eyes. There was no sign of the flag symbolizing the Count of the Black Lion anywhere. Only the flags of the Count of the Red Rose were strewn about the ground like trash among the corpses.
Realizing he had been lying amongst these many bodies for half a day, Kassel shuddered and jerked upright. He was the only moving shadow in the desolate, treeless hill.
Far away, two eagles were circling. As he stupidly watched the eagles’ movements, dizziness overcame him. He staggered forward. Crows, their beaks raggedly gripping something, perched on the eerie tree that was left. As he passed by, the crows all turned their heads towards Kassel.
“Hey, I’m still alive. I have a sword, so if you come close, I’ll slit your throats one by one.”
Kassel yelled, forgetting the fact that he had never wielded a sword in battle. The crows, not understanding, blinked their red eyes.
Kassel mustered up the strength to glare threateningly at them, then turned around and walked away. His back prickled needlessly, but thankfully, the crows showed no interest in the living. They had plenty of other things to eat.
‘This is not the time to be afraid of crows.’
After the battle, there were always soldiers left to clean up the remnants. They showed no mercy to deserters, cutting their throats without a chance for plea, rumors even said they wore the ears of the men they killed as necklaces. The thought made him shiver despite the weather not being cold.
‘Should I look for other surviving allies?’
Kassel thought of his fellow mercenaries.
They were all mercenaries who could kill a friend from the day before if paid. In some ways, they could be more dangerous now that the battle was over.
When Kassel first joined the battalion, the gaze of the mercenaries was filled with cynicism. He was too scared to respond, quietly bearing their taunts. Therefore, he never had a chance to develop any kind of camaraderie. At some point, their mocking laughter had disappeared.
‘Uh? When did that happen?’
Kassel briefly pondered before shaking his head.
‘Forget it. What does it matter now? Let’s just focus on getting out of here. Meeting anyone, friend or foe, won’t do me any good now.’
Kassel had been wandering for half an hour, but he couldn’t find his way out of the field scattered with corpses every three steps. Initially, he didn’t even know how the war had started, let alone which direction he should run to reach friendly territory.
Kassel walked down the hill, ready to bolt in the opposite direction of anything that moved. His head was so filled with unease and fear that even the beautiful sunset appeared blood-red. That’s why, when he noticed a man sitting beneath a burnt tree on the hill, leaning against it in a green tunic, he froze on the spot as if his heart would stop from surprise.
The man, with an ostrich feather tucked in his leaf hat and holding a flute, also widened his surprised eyes when he saw Kassel. Kassel managed to stifle a scream that was on the brink of erupting, with an effort akin to gut-wrenching. It was only when he realized the man wasn’t holding a sword or any weapon that he let out a short sigh of relief. He suddenly became aware of his own lack of weaponry.
‘Idiot! In your panic, did you not even think to grab a weapon while fleeing?’
During his short military stint, Kassel’s only issued weapon was a spear with a shoddy piece of metal, no more than a foot long, fixed to a wooden stick. The vision he’d imagined of himself heroically swinging a sword shattered at the sight of that pathetic spear.
‘What a formidable weapon. It shattered my illusion in an instant.’
So Kassel was used to being without a sword. Perhaps if he’d noticed a fallen sword on the ground, he might have thought, ‘Oh, being unarmed is dangerous. I should at least carry this.’ But, both sides had been so depleted of weaponry due to the prolonged war that it was unlikely that they’d just toss their weapons on the ground after the battle, so he didn’t have that kind of luck either.
“I am a soldier of the Red Rose Count. Who do you side with?”
Kassel shouted, deliberately deepening his voice. His own voice, which he thought would sound awkward, was actually quite stern.
“I’m a bard.”
The man replied with an awkward smile.
“A bard?”
Someone who observes wars without taking sides, later crafting those scenes of battle into poems or songs. He vaguely remembered hearing that one could leave a soldier in green alone.
The countless poems and stories crafted by bards were a crucial factor in throwing Kassel into the fantasy of war. All blame lied with them, if you looked at it that way. He wanted to slap them and say, ‘This is your fault, you damned fools!’ But right now, it was more important that they were harmless. Still, he didn’t let his guard down. There was nothing strange about the man suddenly attacking him with a knife.
“The battle was over long ago. Why do you still linger in this place with nothing more to see?”
Kassel asked with an air of haughty indifference.
“I am in the process of finishing a song. It’s almost complete.”
“A song about my battle? I’d like to hear that if I had the money.”
When Kassel said ‘my battle’, it was purely a slip of the tongue. He simply liked songs and bardry and wanted to hear it. But apparently, it didn’t sound that way to the bard. The man asked with a slight smile,
“Would you, if it’s alright, listen and evaluate it?”
His voice had suddenly become softer.
Kassel responded with surprise.
“As I said before, I have no money.”
“Is that really the case? Are you a commander of the Red Rose Count army?”
Only then could Kassel begin to imagine how he looked in the eyes of the bard. A soldier walking unscathed from a battlefield stained with blood? If so, he would be a swordsman who did not get hurt in a fierce battle smeared with others’ blood. Moreover, his demeanor—calling this large-scale battle his own, and expressing an indifferent desire to hear a song while appearing as a mere foot soldier—could not be overlooked.
“I’m nobody. Anyway, I have neither money nor anything else, so you better not plan to make money off that song.”
Kassel hurriedly replied. It was merely an attempt to avoid looking like a loitering, weaponless foot soldier, but it had unexpected results.
The bard began to wear a friendly smile.
“I have no intentions of taking money.”
Bards, by nature, prefer to mingle with those of higher status rather than lower. Looking at his counterpart’s servile expression, Kassel finally understood the implications of his words spoken so casually until now.
‘He seems to assume I’m someone of high rank, huh?’
Looking back, even the rough mercenaries seemed unable to treat Kassel lightly. At first, they had harassed and picked fights with him, taking his weak-looking face for granted. However, as time passed, the number of these scheming individuals decreased, until none were left at all. He had thought it was because they were becoming nervous as the battle approached, but apparently, that was not the only reason.
‘In retrospect, it’s thanks to my father. Having spent time in conversation with that indifferent person, it seems I can handle this situation rather casually.’
The bard spoke, “I don’t intend to take any money now. The piece isn’t even finished. Just listen and give your assessment of how the recent war is depicted.”
“Well, if that’s the case, sure. I was wandering around the hill and could use a break.”
Kassel settled down, feigning confidence while feeling anything but.
‘Is it safe to sit and listen to a song in a place where enemy soldiers might appear at any moment?’
Despite it all, he strived to put on a show of serenely listening to the bard’s song. The bard began to sing.
‘Blades under the sun, hooves on green blades of grass,
The red rose, first to bloom on the hill,
But the black lion, it does not waver,
A horse falls, and blades shower, blood flows,
Brave is the red rose, against the cold lions,
No one commands, no one retreats,
The encircling lion, unknown to the rose,
Twenty cavalrymen charging simultaneously, suddenly fallen knights of the rose,
Knights with black flags cut through the mass,
The circular formation of the red rose crumbles under the twenty horsemen,
The encircling black lion, swoops down upon them,
A battle without strategy, decided by a single command,
The commander of the black lion roars out the victory,
Victorious, victorious.’
Kassel was taken aback.
As one sided with Count Red Rose, it was an unpalatable narrative, but it was an accurate description of a battle that even he hadn’t been aware of. The strategy of the battle was all contained within those few lines of bardry.
“I intend to now carry these lyrics on this tune.”
The bard blew into his flute. His flute skills were lacking.
“It’s a splendid song. Even though it tells of our defeat.”
Kassel spoke after the song ended.
“I always aspire to sing only from objective truths. Many people, even from the defeated side, wish to hear such songs.”
“Who pays for such songs? The nobles?”
“I’m not famous enough to be summoned by the nobles. I merely wander around taverns. I also sell to foreigners who are curious about the war happening in the Kingdom of Camort. Truthfully, a song sells better with a good melody rather than good lyrics… I’m weak on that front…”
“Indeed, a song with a good melody and terrible lyrics tends to receive a better response. When I used to hear them back in my hometown… No, let’s not go there.”
Kassel had almost started talking about his own identity.
“You’ve heard a lot, haven’t you? What do you think? Is this song sellable?”
The bard asked with sparkly eyes.
“I’m not too sure about the melody. But the lyrics seem a bit too showy. The story itself is good, do you really need to go that far? And the ‘roars out the victory’ part at the end seems repetitive, how about just ‘he roared’?”
“Hmm, that’s a good point.”
The bard quickly jotted down a memo.
“You clearly have a good ear, being a frequent listener.”
‘I’ve heard a lot indeed.’
Kassel only coughed lightly, avoiding a response. After finishing his memo, the bard asked,
“Where will you go now? I’m heading to the ‘Village of Defectors’ nearby.”
“The Village of Defectors?”
“I’m not sure who started it, but there’s a village everyone calls by that name. It’s a place where mercenaries without allegiance or bandits looking to hide their identities congregate. As many people gather there, it’s also a great place to sell songs.”
“Sounds like just my kind of place.”
“Would you like to join me?”
The minstrel continued to extend the invitation, still in the same position.
‘I should be begging him to lead the way. Lucky me.’
That’s what he thought inwardly, but Kassel spoke in his usual stern tone.
“If you promise not to speak about me at all, I’ll go with you. Given my attire and my lack of a sword, you won’t have much reason to lie. “
“Ha ha, that’s truly unfortunate. After all, a sword often represents one’s identity.”
“So, until we reach the village, let’s pretend I’m just another companion of yours.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
The minstrel gathered his things.
“My name is Laure.”
“Just call me Kay.”
Kassel didn’t believe he had completely fooled him, and he didn’t let his guard down.
“Shall we get going then, Kay?”
With a smile, Laure led the way down the hill.
The sun was now fully set behind the mountains, and darkness was rolling in from the eastern end.
☆ ☆ ☆
In Kassel’s view, Laure was a much better minstrel than he evaluated himself to be. Although he had recently become disillusioned with his bardry, some of his older songs were quite enjoyable.
In particular, a song mocking the war between two Counts, titled ‘The Lion with a Rose’, was superb. Kassel quickly learned that song, and Laure accompanied it with his flute. His tense and hardened heart seemed to relax with that one song.
Kassel quickly took a liking to Laure.
“It must have been tough to follow every war that has happened so far, that’s impressive. Someone might think you actually enjoy wars?”
Kassel asked.
“I’ve loved epic tales of heroes since I was a child. I’ve been thinking about writing a long story someday. It would be fun.”
“Is the ongoing war the subject?”
“No. It’s about the Conquest of Lontamon that shook this whole continent in the past. I got started in this because I was fascinated by a few songs that depicted that war.”
“Both of us were kids back then.”
The invasion by a country called Lontamon ten years ago had affected even small country villages that seemed to have no connection to war.
The memory of the Excelon Knights from Lontamon storming into the village of Lurun was still vivid. Strange rumors of monstrous beings consuming children had circulated, so the villagers hurriedly hid their offspring. However, the group of about thirty knights clad in black armor quietly spent a night in the village without causing any trouble before disappearing.
They had even paid for the facilities and food they used. Even Kassel’s father had spent a few hours chatting with the captain of the knights in front of a campfire.
The knights’ polite demeanor deeply impressed young Kassel, who had only heard rumors of them being devil worshipers. Even his father, who generally spoke ill of soldiers, had praised them for being true knights. Speaking of the captain he had chatted with, his father had said, “With a captain like him, even the Dragon Knights wouldn’t stand a chance against their band.” This ominous praise-like prophecy was fulfilled just a year later.
Looking back now, Kassel realized that his dream of becoming a knight had started after witnessing these knights from an enemy nation.
“I am aware of the numerous battles that occurred at that time and the stories of many heroes.”
Laure continued in a dreamy manner. Under the light of the campfire lit in the darkness, his face appeared even more flushed.
“The story of the great knight Welch, who led the Excelon Knights, a knight band with no history of defeat, and the fierce battle between the Dragon Knights and the Excelon Knights that took place in Carnelock. It was the most extensive battle among knights in history. It’s truly regrettable that the dragons protecting Carnelock at the time perished. If the dragons were still alive, Carnelock would be ruling this continent now. But my favorite hero stories are…”
“Aranthia?”
“You know.”
Kassel grinned widely.
“Of course. I’ve never been there, but I’ve always wanted to.”
“Haha. Yes, I’ve been there only once, but it’s a truly wonderful country. But there as well, only the capital and some major cities are good places to live, the rural outskirts are no different from here.”
Laure continued with a faraway look in his eyes.
“A small kingdom under the care of the holy queen. The Wolf Knights, who held back the undefeated Excelon Knights at fifty miles, are living legends for all who dream of becoming knights. Especially the stories of their elite members, the ‘White Wolves,’ and the queen’s guardian knights, they are really…”
With a gleeful face like a child’s, Laure lifted his flute and proposed.
“I know many songs in praise of them. Would you like to hear?”
Kassel had always taken a liking to such stories, his body would thrill at their narration. The fact that he couldn’t share the tales he knew in this setting was almost regrettable.
With a smile, Kassel shook his head.
“I’d like to hear it, but maybe later. We seem to have a long journey ahead of us, so we’ll have time to share.”
“Let’s do that then.”
Laure lowered his flute, nodding in agreement.
In his hometown, no one had ever enjoyed such conversations. If they became friends, Kassel thought he’d like to learn all of Laure’s poems.
‘If we become friends? No, let’s start right now!’
Kassel revised his thoughts.
“The sausages are well cooked. Let’s eat.”
Laure offered a sausage that he had cooked over the campfire on a stick. The sausage, its skin cut open and oil sizzling, looked mouth-wateringly good.
“I may not be able to repay this kindness right now, but I will someday.”
Kassel responded courteously.
“Don’t worry about it. But can you answer this question? Kay, which regiment of the Red Rose Count did you command?”
“I…”
Kassel hesitated.
‘Would this kindness continue if I told the truth? Or would he snatch the sausage from my hands and give me a kick?’
Kassel had never deceived anyone nor had he ever attempted to. Living a lie, even for survival, felt heavy on his conscience.
Kassel carefully replied, “I am not a commander.”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
Laure furrowed his brows. Kassel was ready to tell the truth.
‘I’m just a rookie spearman in this regiment. Yes, I apologize. I misled you. But I had no choice. I was terrified at the time. I’m glad I can tell the truth now.’
Just as he was about to say these words,
Thwack!
The arrow lodged in Laure’s chest was first noticed by Kassel, who was beside him, rather than Laure himself.
Laure gasped and clutched at the arrow. His mouth hung open, unable to close. His eyes, wide from Kassel’s confession, didn’t blink but lost their light. The green of his clothing was gradually dyed red from the arrow wound. He slowly crumpled, his face hitting the cold ground.
Kassel, a dumbfounded expression on his face, dropped the sausage that he had bitten into. Laure was dying slowly, his breath hitched in pain. The shocked Kassel couldn’t do anything but watch.
From the darkness, a few human shadows moved erratically, approaching with boisterous chatter.
“Didn’t I say I could hit him?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You were aiming at the guy with the sausage.”
“Don’t try to weasel your way out of the bet. Hand over the money.”
“You’re the one who’s funny. You should be the one paying!”
A man, his clothing hastily stitched together from animal skins, approached, agitated, as far as the light from the campfire reached.
Kassel quickly identified who they were. They were bandits rumored to be prowling around this area these days.
They lay low when the army passed, but when the opportunity presented itself, they killed unarmed travelers, deserters, or stray soldiers, stealing their belongings. Even mercenaries who had been through thick and thin feared them if left alone.
There was no need to worry about famous bandits like Falcon, Greydog, or Lengsan, the ‘ruler of the east’. A handful of bandits roaming about were threatening enough.
The two counts, busy threatening each other with their swords, had no time for public safety, and the king, busy securing his position amid the tension between the two counts, left such places virtually a world of bandits, as the mercenaries often said.
“Damn, it’s better to be captured by the enemy. At least then, there’s a possibility of surviving as a prisoner.”
A short man, armed with an old, rusty sword and helmet that he undoubtedly picked up from a battlefield, fumbled as he questioned Kassel.
“Hey, are you a deserter?”
There were four of them, their faces equally grimy.
The smaller man, clad in animal skin and holding a bow, was fiddling with an arrow in his quiver. He looked at Kassel with a sinister smile. How many deserters had been terrified by that dirty smile, and how many had lost their lives to their casual arrows?
Kassel swallowed hard.
‘Why am I thinking about this and getting angry? Even the bard was afraid to lie.’
Kassel took his hand off the dead Laure’s back and slowly got up.
“Hey, what’s the name of your leader?”
Hoping his pounding heart would calm down, Kassel tried to sound relaxed. His deep voice flowed out naturally, much to his surprise, just like when he first met Laure.
The first of the bandits, who had intended to start a conversation after first drawing his sword, asked in confusion.
“What? Leader?”
“This lad was showing me where his friends were. You should have just killed me, you bastards. Then at least I wouldn’t have had to worry about getting beaten to death by my leader and could have died in peace.”
Kassel clicked his tongue and began to remove Laure’s clothes.
‘I’m sorry, Laure.’
Kassel apologized in a small voice to the bard’s corpse, who had shown him kindness.
The bandit with the bow hesitated before asking.
“Who… are you affiliated with?”
“I asked first! What’s the name of your leader?”
The bandits, who had tried to bluff, were even more confused when Kassel retorted so boldly.
“It’s Tiger.”
Kassel quickly recalled the name of the bandit leader he had heard from the mercenaries.
“I’m one of Falcon’s men.”
“Fa, Falcon?”
One guy was surprised, but another sharply questioned.
“This is our territory. Falcon is further to the north, isn’t he?”
‘Thank you for giving me that information, you bastard.’
Kassel muttered to himself as he quickly made an excuse.
“Can’t you tell? I captured this guy up north. And I had to wear these stinky clothes, even smeared with blood, and act like a weakling, chasing him around for half a day! Now, look at this. If the prey I captured crosses into your territory, does it become yours or remain mine?”
“Of course it’s mine!”
One guy threatened with his sword.
Instead of backing off, Kassel took a step towards the sword.
“Oh really, you said ‘mine’, did you? I might need to inform your leader. You need to establish your territories properly. Is the northern battlefield that we encountered at dawn our land or yours? Don’t know? You probably don’t. Neither do I. It just happened to flow into your territory, and now you’re claiming it?”
Kassel intentionally spoke fast, and the men seemed to struggle to comprehend. Kassel took advantage of their confusion and pushed on.
“Alright. Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll take this small bundle that he had. Since I caught him in our territory, it’s only right that I keep it. In exchange, I’ll guide you to the village that this bard was leading me to.”
“Hmm, and then what happens?”
One of them asked in a clueless voice.
Kassel patiently explained.
“His friends must be there. If you catch them, you’ll easily make a month’s income. What do you say? If you don’t like it, speak up.”
The bandits glanced at each other. Kassel, knowing he wouldn’t be able to deceive them for long, decided to act quickly. He began to change into the clothes of the man he had captured.
“What are you doing?”
One guy asked. The threatening tone was gone. Kassel didn’t know if there was a concept of camaraderie between bandits, but he had to continue the lie he had started.
“Changing clothes.”
“Why?”
“Do you want a detailed explanation?”
Kassel responded, sounding annoyed.
“Even though my mission failed, Captain Falcon must already know I’ve made it this far. Considering his character, he takes care of even the lowest subordinates and might rush here immediately. Shouldn’t I quickly lead you to this bard’s companions? And to approach them without suspicion, I need these clothes.”
Kassel picked up the sausages roasted on the bonfire. Fortunately, there were four in total.
“Here, eat this. It’d be a waste to leave it. Oh, and as a sign of goodwill, take this flute, too.”
Kassel extended a flute to them, an object that was destined to be stolen from Laure, pretending to be generous.
The bandit, wearing a helmet whose front was rusty and gold had faded, quickly took the flute and slipped it into his clothes. The others hastily accepted the freshly cooked sausages as well, eating them as if they had killed Laure just to snatch these sausages from the beginning.
“But where are you going?” asked the man in the helmet.
“The Village of Defectors.”
“That’s dangerous for people like you and us. Even if they accept everyone, they don’t accept bandits.”
The man spoke as if offering advice. Instead of replying, Kassel pointed to the bard outfit he was wearing. The bandit slapped his knee as if he had a great revelation. They had given him valuable information.
‘So, bandits can’t enter the Village of Defectors? Then it means I can get in alone after leaving you guys behind!’
“Then, I’ll go into the village first. If you wait outside, I’ll bring out the bard’s friends.”
Kassel spoke confidently, but then realized his mistake.
‘I should have asked them to wait here!’
“Really? Then we’ll go with you to the front of the village.”
One of them, spitting out a piece of sausage, spoke.
“No, well, come to think of it, you guys can wait here. It’s just on the way, do we really need to move all together?”
Kassel tried to speak in a relaxed tone, not to reveal his attempt to recover from his lie. However, it didn’t work. Or maybe they were just being too obliging.
“No, no. Even with that outfit, you’d be in danger if you meet our guys on the way. We don’t discriminate against lone travelers, whether they wield a sword or a flute.”
“Oh, that could indeed be risky, like earlier.”
“Uh huh, exactly. We almost shot an arrow at you.”
The bandits laughed heartily, and Kassel forced himself to join in, crying on the inside.
He couldn’t think of a suitable excuse. He had no ground to continue refusing, and refusing might even arouse suspicion.
Moreover, they had a point. Maybe these four could serve as escorts on the way to the village. Once he got into the village, what did it matter to them?
“Refusing help that’s offered isn’t courteous.”
More than anything, Kassel didn’t know the location of the ‘Village of Defectors’. He maintained his composed demeanor to deceive them till the end.
‘If I can get out of this, I can survive. Meeting these stupid bandits might even be a blessing in disguise.’
Kassel tried to think optimistically.
☆ ☆ ☆
‘If only I knew how to use a sword…’
Kassel thought.
‘If I were a swordsman of remarkable skill, there would’ve been no need to lie to Laure. No need to don the garb of a benefactor who was kind to this deceiver. And on the battlefield today…’
Kassel pictured himself swinging his sword on today’s battlefield. Then, he corrected his thoughts.
‘…If I knew how to wield a sword, I may not have survived like I did.’
Walking on a moonlit night path tended to invite plenty of distractions. Especially when bandits with a reckless habit of swinging swords were lingering behind you, anyone would be lost in all sorts of thoughts.
“So, what’s your name?”
One of them asked.
“Kay.”
Kassel, without any difficulty, made up a name on the spot. The questioner waited, hoping for him to ask his name in return. But Kassel didn’t ask. He had no interest in the identities of these murderers, and he feared that prolonged conversation would expose his lies, so he remained silent.
‘If I get caught, I die.’
Kassel repeatedly reminded himself to stay calm.
‘It’s not wrong to tell lies like this, even if you do it hundreds of times. In order to survive, what can’t you do? This is a battlefield. It’s a battlefield where people kill and get killed, and it’s not a problem to live by lying!’
Kassel argued fiercely with himself before his father’s last piece of advice came to mind.
‘Don’t stand in the center of a fight where people kill and get killed. You’ll end up being killed and killing.’
Kassel was too busy suspecting that he was being belittled to notice his father’s expression. However, his father wore a sad smile as he gave the advice.
‘What do you mean by that, father? How can one not stand in the battlefield?’
The bandit who had been waiting for Kassel to ask his name gave up and started speaking his mind.
“Our leader, Tiger, always wanted to meet Falcon.”
For some reason, the other three men trailing behind him were giggling and laughing.
“Our leader isn’t a small fry rotting away in a place like this. If he had worked as a mercenary, he would’ve been attached to some Count or have a place in the royal court by now, right? But he dislikes being a mercenary and prefers being a bandit. And since he’s doing it anyway, he wants to do it big. So, he wants to meet big shots like Falcon or Greydog, merge forces. What do you think?”
Kassel had nothing to say, so he bought some time with a single word.
“Well.”
What could he say next?
‘Our leader isn’t so idle.’
That sounded too forced.
‘I’ll speak to the leader about it sometime.’
That would prolong the conversation.
‘I’m tired, let’s talk later.’
Dodging the conversation isn’t a good idea.
As he briefly pondered, they had already passed the mountain, and a fork in the road appeared. Kassel was flustered. He didn’t know which way to go, and those who had promised to guide him were merely following. Saying he was going to the ‘Village of Defectors’ with confidence, yet fumbling because he didn’t know the way, seemed inconsistent.
As the fork approached, Kassel’s steps grew slower. The others also slowed down. They neither moved ahead of Kassel nor urged him on. Suddenly, a chilling thought swept down his spine that they might not be following him to guide him.
“Huh? What are you thinking?”
And they kept prodding for an answer.
‘I need to give them some sort of answer quickly.’
Kassel decided and spoke.
“How would a mere grunt like me know about that?”
“If Falcon refuses, he might ally with Greydog.”
“How would you know your leader’s decision?”
“Because I am the leader.”
“Hmm, I’ve been fooled. So, you’re Tiger?”
Kassel stopped walking.
“What are you doing standing still?”
A fork in the road had already appeared, but Kassel couldn’t make up his mind. The guy who had just revealed himself as Tiger, clad in beast fur, was smirking, watching Kassel.
‘You’ve failed with your lie.’
However, Kassel didn’t give up and asked,
“You’ve met the leader of the Falcons, haven’t you?”
“I have. That bastard!”
The man growled his words.
“He had me captured and rolled me on the floor, said if I played bandit around here, he’d kill me. But would I listen? I intended to kill Falcon’s men on sight.”
“But then why didn’t you kill me?”
“You don’t look like a bandit, Kay.”
Kassel was taken aback. This guy wasn’t as dumb as he seemed.
“Ah, also, do you know this? Greydog was swept away by the Rose Knights a while ago. Only an outsider wouldn’t know about that famous incident.”
The one with the bow slowly took out an arrow, and the others drew their old swords. The unwiped blood was so vivid it looked black even in the moonlight.
‘I need to say something. If I try to run, I’ll get an arrow in the back of my head and die. What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?’
Kassel opened his mouth, then shut it again.
‘Don’t stand in the center of a fight.’
It was madness. His father was intruding, clouding his thoughts.
‘Don’t interrupt, father. I’m already in the middle of a fight. I’m at the center. What should I do in this situation?’
He thought he heard his father’s angry voice from somewhere.
‘You idiot! I trusted you and you sold the wheat for that price?’
Kassel defended himself.
‘So, what should I do? They say that’s the current price. I tried to get a higher price, you know.’
‘Ugh, even if I wanted to hike the price, these merchant bastards all say the same thing. ‘Go check elsewhere, the price is the same everywhere else…they said that, right?’
‘Uhm, yes, yes, they did say that. Then what should you do in that case? Those people would naturally want to lower the price. You want to raise it. How do you fight and win in that situation?’
‘How can a farmer like us win against merchants? Even if we could win, we shouldn’t! If the merchants feel they’ve lost, they won’t buy our wheat next year.’
‘I see. Then what should you do?’
‘To win in a transaction, never fight in the marketplace. The rule to be a winner, whether it’s a trade or a fight, is the same. Who is the ultimate winner on the battlefield? The one who doesn’t fight!’
The sound of his father’s reprimand echoed in his ears.
Remembering his father, Tiger seemed a bit less intimidating to Kassel.
Kassel rubbed his throat as if he had been bitten by a mosquito. Then, crossing his arms, he looked up at Tiger with a cool gaze.
“Fine, do as you wish.”
“What, punk?”
Kassel simply closed his eyes and turned his head away.
“I said, do as you wish! Just remember, if you kill me, Tiger, you’ll die within an hour too.”
Tiger’s blade that had approached stopped in front of him.
“You’re trying to bluff?”
Tiger laughed, spitting out saliva. Kassel felt a little hot under the collar.
‘Yes, it’s a bluff. But now, you must be getting nervous too.’
The best way to survive on a battlefield is to not be on the battlefield. The best way to survive a fight where people are being killed is to not stand in the center of it.
“Right. It’s a bluff! What are you gonna do about it? But you’re bluffing too! You said you’d kill Falcon’s men? Try and kill them!”
Kassel brazenly offered his throat to Tiger’s blade.
“This brat, who are you to threaten?”
‘The moment you didn’t strike here, I won!’
Kassel remembered the words he had used when he went back to the wheat merchant to retrieve his wheat, just as he had learned from his father.
‘If rumors circulate that you’ve struck a deal at this price for high-quality wheat, no farmer producing good wheat will want to sell to you.’
Kassel spoke in a tone that was not too strong, nor did it sound scared.
“I’m not threatening. Why would I threaten you about the fact that you’ll die after I do? Spare me! Then you’ll live too.”
Tiger had begun to worry about his life gradually. Even though it appeared that Kassel’s life was at stake, it was actually his own life that was at the center of this battlefield.
“Let’s see if the damn Falcon shows up or not after you’re killed.”
Tiger raised his sword. Kassel flinched. But Tiger’s pupils were shaking. Upon seeing this, Kassel was able to stand his ground.
With sword in hand, Tiger asked,
“Is it true, Kay?”
“Why should I say it’s true when you won’t believe me anyway?”
“Still, say it! Is it true?”
Kassel felt a relief, ready to answer, when something unexpected happened.
From the forked path’s bushes, a dark shadow suddenly leaped out and slashed off the throat of the bandit armed with a bow. The startled Tiger, who had his sword pointed at Kassel, turned it towards them but got impaled on a spear before he could even counter. The same happened to the remaining two men.
The bandits all died within the time it took for Kassel to take a breath.
One of the shadows rising from the darkness slowly picked up a fallen torch. Only then could he see the figures in the dark.
They were knights armored with chainmail and helmets. After confirming the bandits’ deaths, they approached Kassel, who was now sitting down.
They showed no intention of attacking Kassel, but they had blocked all possible escape routes in advance. The oppressive atmosphere was incomparable to the one with the four bandits. Kassel was so scared that he could hardly breathe.
It was not merely the sight of the dark armor in the darkness that terrified him. Kassel had experienced the horror of that armor in today’s battle. Those dreadful knights who had torn through those skilled mercenaries.
They were the ‘Black Lion Knights.’
At first, Kassel could not understand how they had appeared out of nowhere at such a time.
But soon he understood. Meeting the bard or the bandits was rather the unexpected event for Kassel. All day, from the perspective of a fleeing soldier, Kassel had feared encountering enemy troops.
‘Oh my, to escape from the fox only to meet the lion.’
Kassel kept gasping in surprise.
“What’s your relationship with these bandits?”
Stammering, Kassel replied,
“I, I was captured.”
“A bard?”
Only then did Kassel understand why they had spared his life. The shield that had blocked the knights’ spears in the dark, where no one could distinguish faces, was none other than the bard’s clothes.
“Yes, yes, that’s right. I’m a bard.”
Kassel hurriedly spoke.
“That’s strange. These scoundrels never leave their prey alive… It wouldn’t be odd if you killed the bard and stole his clothes.”
That knight’s judgment of the situation was very quick. The other knights also pressured Kassel with their unseen gaze from under their helmets.
Another knight spoke.
“I didn’t kill you because of your attire. But the idea of a bard wandering these bandit-infested roads in the dead of night is laughable. If you are a minstrel, you should know how to play an instrument. Prove it.”
“My instrument is a flute. But… it was taken by them.”
“Then it should be with the corpses.”
The knight was utterly unconvinced.
Darkness filled Kassel’s vision.
“I see. Ah, thank you.”
Kassel searched the bodies. He discovered the flute, punctured by the knight’s lance and split in two, in the bandit’s possession.
‘Oh, oh, the miller’s god, the goddess of wheat, thank you.’
Kassel nearly let the words slip from his mouth. Holding back, he presented the split flute to the knights with a near-teary expression.
“Look at this… it’s… ruined.”
The knight apologized in a gruff voice.
“That was my spear’s doing. My apologies.”
“No, it’s nothing. You saved my life, after all. This is insignificant.”
Kassel forced an awkward smile, quickly tossing the broken flute behind him.
“Alright, forget the instrument. Let’s see you pull out a song instead. That should prove you’re a bard. What do you say?”
The other knights shrugged, agreeing with the proposal.
“Here?”
“What, are you a bard who can’t sing in front of corpses?”
“No, not at all. I can certainly do it.”
Kassel didn’t flinch. He recited an easy song that Laure had taught him. He fumbled a bit in the middle, hoping to appear as a poor bard scared witless amidst the knights.
“Well, how was that?”
Kassel tried to offer a meek laugh. He’d never attempted such a laugh before, so he had no idea if it appeared as intended. The knight’s voice was still intimidating.
“Quite an amusing song. But when I think about it, anyone could sing that. You could be an enemy trying to escape this situation by singing a song you’ve known for a long time, right?”
The other knights chuckled.
At first, Kassel felt a flush of fear, thinking his cover had been blown. But soon he realized that the knight was indirectly requesting another song, and he breathed a sigh of relief. It was customary for someone of a knight’s standing to drop at least a silver coin for each song a minstrel sang. But would a knight, out to deal with the remnants of a war, have any money on him? The indirect request must have been a way to circumvent the awkwardness of not having the funds to tip him.
“So, how about this? This song was somewhat well received among the ones I’ve composed. The title is ‘The Lion with the Rose’. It would be better with a melody, but as you can see, my flute is broken…”
After seeking their approval, he sang a song from Laure. The reaction was quite positive, and when he reached the chorus, one of the knights was moved enough to tap his foot.
“A song blatantly mocking two counts. If I were you, I wouldn’t dare sing it in front of the nobles. But it’s a pretty good song.”
The knight chuckled, his praise awkwardly sincere.
Another knight, satisfied, asked, “Where were you headed?”
“I was headed to the Village of Defectors.”
“Why don’t we escort you to the village entrance? Consider it payment for the song.”
Their stiff voices finally broke into laughter.
“Thank you. It’s an honor for me.”
Kassel finally managed to breathe a sigh of relief.
‘I’ve made it out alive.’
–TL Notes–
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