WETRIED TRANSLATIONS

Is It Bad That the Main Character’s a Roleplayer

[Translator – Aren]

◈Chapter 282 Tell Me (12)

“Where should I even begin……”

After dismissing the soldier, Gunther brought over a chair and sat down. The wizard, startled, tried to move, but he roughly waved it off. He had no intention of making someone who had collapsed and was coughing up blood move roughly.

“Munmund has a tradition of bestowing gemstone names on their head Knights. Did you know?”

“…No, I didn’t.”

“I see.”

Gunther had been of the opinion that all wizards, no matter who they were, shared one trait. If they knew something, they would definitely flaunt it, and if they didn’t, they would pretend that they did. But apparently, that only applied to those from the Magic Tower.

He scratched his head as he looked at those green eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“We grant our head Knights a gemstone’s name, chosen in consideration of their character. The Jade Knight, the Sapphire Knight, the Emerald Knight, the Ruby Knight, and so on.”

Of course, ‘head Knight’ didn’t refer to an (apprentice) Knight who ranked first at some academy. It referred to formal Knights of Munmund who had risen through the ranks by either demonstrating overwhelming strength or by obtaining command authority.

“Since it’s an honor given only to head Knights, there are never many. At most five at a time, sometimes only two.”

“I see……”

“And Atya was a promising Knight expected to earn one such title within five years.”

“……”

“He certainly deserved it. He never once lost the top spot during his years at the academy, and after graduation, he even killed a Dullahan single-handedly.”

The difficulty of fighting a Dullahan greatly varied depending on what sort of Knight its corpse had once been.

However, even the weakest of them usually required at least two Knights, typically three, to subdue. The reason for that was because in the process of their body’s corruption, their skin would harden, making it as hard as stone, and they would gain two to three times the original person’s strength.

“The only reason he didn’t receive a gemstone name then was inexperience. The sort of flaw every newly graduated Knight shares. It was for no other reason.”

Yet even as a fresh graduate, he had slain a Dullahan. That it had been a weaker one, born from the corpse of a mere apprentice Knight, was irrelevant. A Dullahan was still a Dullahan, and Atya had also been an inexperienced fledgling at the time.

“Yes, he was more than qualified to become a gemstone. The only question was whether he would receive the title of Chrysoberyl or Peridot.”

Considering his greenish-brown eyes, either Chrysoberyl or Peridot would have fit him well. Gunther had never doubted that the boy would receive a gemstone name.

“…I never thought he’d die before he even received it.”

At least, not until he died.

“That’s……”

Gunther closed his eyes for a moment, his lips quivering as he spoke. A memory brushed through his mind.

“…For your information, Atya’s family was a knightly family. His father was already a head Knight, the Amber Knight. And Atya himself was, as I said before, a candidate to be the next head Knight. On top of that, the second child had just graduated and been made a formal Knight, while the third was still in the Academy.”

The second, Elya, had been able to accumulate as many accomplishments as Atya. In her first year of service after graduation, the Demons had been unusually quiet, leaving her little chance to fight.

However, like Atya, she had never once lost the top rank during her Academy years. Perhaps she would have been a head Knight candidate as well.

The third, Fasha, had passed the entrance exam with the highest score of his years—not the all-time record, but enough to prove the bloodline true.

“The youngest was still far too little. At that age, talent didn’t really matter; just growing up did… Still, that family was remarkable enough to earn the Lord’s favor.”

Even if the third child failed to graduate, and the youngest never even set her foot on the path of a Knight, three Knights in a single household was no small thing. How could such a family not be treasured?

“And because of that… because they were treasured like that, they died. They went to celebrate the youngest daughter’s birthday at the villa the Lord lent them, and then they vanished without a trace.”

Sir Amber doted on his youngest child, and even the older children adored their little sister.

So they took leave to celebrate their seventh birthday… The Lord, in turn, lent them one of his villas. It was only a two-day travel from Munmund.

“The cause of their disappearance has never been uncovered. The villa itself vanished completely, leaving not a single trace.”

“……”

“But it can’t have been Demons. That villa… wasn’t in a place where Demons could have attacked.”

Munmund had cleared the plains, turning them into farmland. A village had been built for the farmers, fortified by walls, watchtowers, and stationed wizards for communication.

The villa stood on a hill at the village’s edge, built by the Lord for his own use, since the scenery there was quite pleasant. Its safety was as secure as it could have been for that reason.

If Demons had tried to attack that place, Munmund’s defense would have noticed immediately and responded long before they could even reach it.

“Even if there had been attacks, it would usually be just a stray Demon or two… But with a head Knight, a head Knight candidate, a formal Knight, and an apprentice Knight present, how could they possibly fail to subdue those? So… so, it couldn't have been Demons. It just couldn’t.”

But if it wasn’t Demons, then who or what did it?

Was he supposed to believe they smashed the villa themselves and vanished of their own accord?

“…It couldn’t have been Demons.”

The villa disappeared without a single trace left behind, while the villagers remained completely unharmed. Witnesses recalled hearing a very loud sound but no trace of anything in particular.

Gunther felt himself being tormented by the past as he recounted his tale. No matter what explanation he considered, contradictions would always stab through his heart like knives.

He didn’t want to forget them, yet every memory he had of them caused him agony. Always chasing a glimpse of these familiar silhouettes, only to lose them, despair, and repeat it all again.

“…Were you close with them?”

“…Close?”

Even in this very moment, he felt his stomach growl. He felt so hungry, as if his body was trying to shout at him that he was alive.

“They were my family. Not by blood, but they were like my family anyway.”

“……”

“Atya, Elya, Fasha, Rinya… Sir Amber and his wife. They were all my family……”

Gunter clasped his hands together as if he was praying, burying his face. Across from him, the wizard’s expression twisted slightly, perhaps due to his own pain.

“…So, has your curiosity been satisfied?”

But he wasn’t the kind of man who could afford to comfort others. Gunther never asked the wizard if he was alright. In truth, no one here was.

“If it has, then don’t go around asking who Atya is. Most people will answer like that soldier earlier… but someone else might react like me, suffering from deep grief.”

Ah, he was so hungry.

* * *

Gunther returned to the castle, clutching his empty stomach.

“I told you not to go on ahead without me.”

His escort Knight caught up and scolded him, but Gunther only glanced at him without answering. He didn’t have the energy left to apologize. His throat was parched, and all he felt was extreme hunger.

“…Young Master.”

“What work did you come to bring me this time? Fine, come in.”

Gunther gestured toward the waiting soldier. His weary legs carried him into the reception room, which doubled as his office.

“During the distribution of rations, a soldier disobeyed orders and tried to steal food……”

“Some villagers have started rioting……”

Just calling them inside one by one to listen to their reports would just be a waste of time, so he made them line up and listened as the reports spilled from their lips one after the other. None of it was anything unexpected.

“Even under this curse, men without discipline to endure can’t remain soldiers. Punish them according to the regulations. As for the villagers, find out who the instigators of the riots are and……”

He paused, running his tongue over his dry lips. Was his mouth this dry from thirst, or had he simply talked too much today? He couldn’t tell.

“How much water have I had today?”

“Less than the allotted ration, young lord. Shall I fetch you more?”

“…No, leave it.”

Gunther hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. It wasn't because he wasn’t thirsty enough but simply because he didn’t trust the one who would be sent to run the errand.

“If even soldiers are stealing food and water, who’s to say the servants won’t? I better fetch it myself or send a soldier later than risk it being stolen along the way.”

Besides, with so many already weakened from hunger, if he ordered someone to do something and they snapped, driven crazy from hunger and thirst, a riot could erupt inside the castle.

Gunther calculated which people had to be kept working inside the walls and resolved to give leave to everyone else. Starving at home would be easier to bear than starving while working.

“Hmm… Then at least allow me to bring you the water……”

“Are you mad? Get back to work.”

“You need to eat, too, Young Master.”

“I’ll eat later. Don’t concern yourself.”

There was far too much work left to do to make a soldier, much less a head Knight, run that kind of errand, so Gunther dismissed it flatly.

“We’ll reduce the patrols inside the castle as well. If we make everyone cluster closer together, we’ll also need fewer men on guard duty.”

Instead, he gave another order as soon as the idea struck him. One of the Knights nearby let out a small ‘Ah.’

“The Lord has already commanded that, young lord.”

“Ah, has he? What about sending workers home?”

“Yes, that as well.”

“No wonder there are fewer people at the castle……”

“The Lord’s foresight is unmatched, isn’t it?”

“…That’s true.”

The old man was annoyingly good at his job. Facing Erysichthon was as new to the Lord as it was to Gunther, yet the speed with which he foresaw and countered problems was extraordinary.

“…His vision is so broad, I can’t imagine ever catching up.”

It was a relief that such a man was the Lord of Munmund. It really was, and yet……

Gunther felt a pang in his chest as he heard about all the measures he had already set in place. They certainly were good for the city, but somehow it left him feeling strangely stifled, robbing him of his appetite.

“Not bad.”

“Yes?”

If he lost his appetite, he’d at least eat less, right? Ignoring the growls of his stomach, Gunther received and processed a few more reports. At last, the clock’s head had crawled past midnight.

“I’m hungry.”

However, even if his appetite was gone, he still felt hungry. At last, Gunter gave in to the limits of the flesh.

“Should I send a soldier to get some food for you, Young Master?”

“No. I’ll go myself.”

The soldiers’ evening rations were given out at seven. It was midnight now, long past the time hunger would make itself apparent, curse or no curse.

But to order food fetched for himself at such an hour, with no plans of sharing it with others? Few things were as cruel as that. So Gunther chose to give mercy to those poor soldiers and went in person.

“You stay here. Moving around wastes strength.”

“But your safety……”

“If someone could break through these defenses, they’d surely aim to kill the Lord, not me. Just stay here. You need to conserve your strength too, right?”

“…Please, return quickly.”

It wasn’t that far away, so it shouldn’t have been anything to fuss about.

“What is the meaning of this?”

“…My Lord.”

“I asked, what is the meaning of this?”

If it wasn’t for that one variable, it probably would have been like that.

The moment he ran into the Lord making his nightly rounds, Gunther’s face froze, appearing like an overcast sky.

“At a time when even setting an example would not suffice, you would sneak away to steal food for yourself? Is that what you think your station was granted for?”

“…I wasn’t trying to steal–”

“Don’t bother with such pitiful excuses. Hold your tongue and return to your quarters at once, before I strip you of your title and make a public example of you.”

Gunther clenched his fists as those words crashed down on him like a waterfall.

“It’s not that you don’t want to hear excuses, you just don’t want to hear me. Because I’m the incompetent heir, right? The wretch who can’t even manage a fraction of what you can do.”

The emotions welling up from within him were given a voice through words, sharpening into a single blade.

“…You!”

“And yet who was it who put that wretch in this place? Who was it that turned a deaf ear whenever I pleaded to pass this position to someone else? It was you.”

However, no matter how many blades he hurled at this person before him, it brought him no relief. ‘Didn’t I tell you not to let your emotions sway you? And you want to be the next Lord of this territory……?’ He placed a hand over his face, trying to rein in the memories and feelings roiling in his mind. ‘That’s why I told you I don’t want to! I only ever wanted to be a Knight–!’ His cheek burned with phantom pain as he remembered the slap he had received.

“You insolent brat……!”

“Enough. What’s the point in talking to someone who never even tries to listen?”

“You, you……”

“So just…”

He unclenched his fist, feeling exhausted. His stomach, denied of food and water since lunch, ached as if it had shriveled in on itself.

“Just make me your public example or whatever.”

He was hungry.

So unbearably hungry.

“Hearing you speak like this, do you think that I wouldn’t do it?”

“No.”

He was just too hungry.

“It’s only when it comes to this that you’d be willing to cast aside even your own flesh and blood, isn’t that right?”

His chest felt hollow.

Gunther’s head fell.

“…You never fail to disappoint me.”

Seriously. Shouldn’t that be his line instead? Gunther pressed his left hand on the back of his neck, refusing to respond to the words of this guy who wouldn’t even pretend to listen to him.

Complaints like ‘Don’t you think it’s a bit much to act like this towards someone who hasn’t eaten anything since noon?’ or ‘You know every detail about this city, so how can you not know what your own son has been doing?’ All of these words just scattered like dust in the corners of his heart. There was no point in saying them aloud, since he wouldn’t listen to any of it anyway.

“Take me to the cells.”

Instead, he avoided looking at the furious face of the Lord and gave a light shove to the soldier standing beside him.

The soldier’s face went pale, but Gunther didn’t withdraw the command. By Munmund’s military law, anyone caught stealing rations was to be immediately imprisoned, awaiting a trial that would almost always end in death.

“L-Lord……”

“Take him to the cells.”

“But he’s the Young Lord……”

“Before that, he is a soldier who broke military law. Unless you intend to defy orders as well?”

And so, he was to be imprisoned. Gunther willingly marched into the cold, damp cells beneath the fortress.

Ah, he should have asked the wizard whether he intended to accept employment or not.

That thought had come to him a bit too late.

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