WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Oblivious

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◈ Prince of Rage ◈

Chapter 64

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A high-end inn simply meant renting the entire building. Fresh ingredients were provided for one meal each day, but there was nothing else especially provided for the guests.

That was because people with real money had their own attendants.

In any case, even with money, it was difficult to find lodgings in the city at a time like this. If that counted as ability, then thanks to Lucas, they had found an inn with stables.

“The competition is a tournament. You fight roughly three or four matches, and the final victor is decided over a day or two. This is the Trial of Valor.”

Lucas spoke as he ate chicken stew. It had been made with an old chicken, so the meat was rather tough, and he could barely eat it.

When Ivy, unable to bear watching any longer, shredded the chicken into small pieces for him, he finally began eating it piece by piece.

“The problem is that the entrants are practically already decided. They are people whose skills have been proven over the past two years. Brokers connect people to them, and they decide the winners and losers among themselves. Who will win, who will lose, who the final victor will be, things like that. If you don't know this information, you might pay a great deal to hire a champion and simply waste your money for nothing.”

In other words, they openly fixed the matches.

Of course, not every entrant did so, but two years was enough time to weed out the mediocre ones.

The people who had survived no longer fought with their lives on the line. They merely used the competition to make money. It was a kind of collusion.

Once gambling was added to it, it became an industry. Vast sums changed hands with every match.

“That doesn't seem to have anything to do with valor.”

Yorick said.

“Well, that's how it is. People are bound to use their heads in the end.”

“But since we're taking part ourselves, does it matter? We just have to win, right?”

Knut spoke as though it were nothing, despite not being the one competing. It was because he trusted Valerie, though he was rather insensitive about it.

“That is true, but from the second or third match onward, they may try to interfere. In extreme cases, assassinations are not uncommon. I will introduce you to someone I know for a competition horse, so leave that to him. Be careful with what you eat as well. Do not eat the meals provided by the inn anymore. I will obtain food separately.”

Perhaps Lucas simply intended to do his best now that things had come to this. Or perhaps he felt some responsibility for breaking the Sacred Relic Bone. Whatever the reason, he actively helped Valerie's party.

Of course, it might simply have been because he feared the Jomsvikings, but Valerie did not think that was the case.

Valerie quietly watched Lucas, then asked,

“Don't you feel wronged?”

“What do you mean?”

“When you think about it, neither buying nor breaking the Sacred Relic Bone was directly your fault.”

“What has happened has happened. We should not deny the past, but there is no need to dwell on it either, is there? The best choice for me now is to make you my allies, not to make enemies of you. This is how I have run my merchant company.”

People were strange. Someone could seem lacking, yet still have good points.

Lucas craved recognition and dreamed unrealistic dreams, but he had not entirely lost touch with reality.

He indulged in somewhat more luxury than his modest father, but he had an eye for beauty and his own philosophy for running a merchant company.

There was one problem, though. From Valerie's perspective, Lucas had a tendency to walk the line to a dangerous degree.

“Lucas.”

“Hmm?”

“Only do what you're good at. Only that. Don't be greedy.”

“...You think I've been greedy?”

“Watch carefully where you stand and where you're walking. Once you clearly recognize that, it is fine to steel yourself and keep walking. But from what I see, you have neither recognized it nor steeled yourself.”

Valerie was not usually the type to offer advice. Yet he had given Lucas this uncharacteristic warning because Lucas still seemed immature.

He was like an unpolished gem.

Of course, everyone here, including Valerie himself, was immature in one way or another. But Lucas was dangerous.

Because he wanted what others could not have, he kept eyeing things such as noble privilege and the sanctity of royalty.

Of course, whether one accepted, understood, and changed because of advice was up to the listener. Lucas did not fully understand Valerie's advice at that moment.

“By the way, is Mr. Lucas no longer a suitor?”

Ivy asked, sucking the grease from her fingers. Since the Sacred Relic Bone was no longer his, he no longer had a gift for the Valkyrie.

“I don't know anymore. Why was I so obsessed with it? Clinging to a woman whose face I've never even seen isn't my way.”

“You've been here for two years and never saw her face?”

Knut asked.

“I was never formally introduced to her, nor have I seen her at a banquet or official event. I heard that she is taller and larger than most men, but I have never seen her in person.”

“Isn't she being kept locked up?”

“I heard she came here with an Einheri, so that is unlikely.”

“Could she perhaps be looking for something other than a groom?”

Yorick offered.

“What else?”

“I don't know that.”

“What was that?”

“I think she may have fled here to escape something. If she is not truly looking for a groom, she could be staying here under a convenient pretext.”

Ivy said. Yorick immediately dismissed her.

“Hey, girl. What could a Valkyrie possibly fear?”

“It could be the king, or another Valkyrie...”

“That makes sense.”

Knut agreed.

Still, no matter how many possibilities they considered, they could not know unless they asked her directly.

The next day, Valerie looked around the city to purchase equipment for the competition.

Lucas helped again. His connections in the city were so extensive that he would have had no inconvenience even without attendants.

And as someone who had passed the Trial of Valor and was said to be doing quite well in Nearcaster, he carried himself with no small amount of pride. He had always liked to show off.

The problem was that his clothes and hairstyle were almost identical to Valerie's, which was rather bizarre.

“Is this a new champion?”

The equipment seller asked Lucas.

“I have already passed the Trial of Valor. What need would I have to be a champion? He is simply someone I sponsor. Make sure you fit him with good equipment.”

The seller seemed to take that at face value. Yet with their similar clothing, Lucas looked rather like an attendant.

It was not that Lucas was ugly, and he did have a noble air about him, but he could not compare to Valerie's looks or incomparable presence. The seller wondered where Lucas had found someone like him.

That was why the seller was somewhat confused. Valerie did not look like someone who would enter a brutal competition where one could lose one's life.

“Are you looking for any ornaments?”

The seller asked Valerie.

“Ornaments?”

“Yes.”

“Why would I need ornaments?”

“Pardon?”

“I don't know about ornaments. Show me usable armor and a helmet.”

“Ah... Yes.”

Valerie and the seller did not understand each other, but it was not a major problem.

The ornaments the seller had meant were things like helmet crests and decorations for competitors. One had to be flashy and stand out to gain popularity, and that would become one's reputation.

Everyone risked their lives for that, so they did not take dressing up lightly. Naturally, Valerie had no interest in it.

In truth, competition equipment was nothing particularly special. It consisted of armor heavier than ordinary chain mail, reinforced with iron plates over the chest and stomach, and helmets that projected forward.

It was designed to ensure survival as much as possible when struck by a lance.

By coincidence, there were two prominent types of forward-projecting helmet, the hound helmet and the frog helmet. Valerie did not choose the frog helmet because of his nickname, but simply because it seemed suited to him.

The competition lances, naturally, had no blades. Their ends were blunt and wrapped in cloth.

Thus, most deaths during competitions came not from lance wounds, but from injuries suffered when falling from a horse.

“It has been a long time, Deputy Master.”

While Valerie was being measured, someone appeared and greeted Lucas.

He was a middle-aged man with black curly hair and a beard covering his entire lower face. Tall and broad-shouldered, he looked like the very image of a warrior or knight.

“Oh, Sir Walter. It has been a long time.”

“I have not seen you in the city recently. You have not given up your courtship, have you?”

“Of course not. I merely stepped away briefly to handle some matters.”

“Could it be the matter of the Count of Westlanding? Regarding the tax collection rights?”

“Haha, I cannot tell you the details of the merchant company's business.”

“That is disappointing. I once fought as your champion, Deputy Master.”

There was no real reason for Walter to be disappointed. He had fought as a champion more than once. In other words, Lucas was not the only person who had hired him.

“In truth, you know it all without me telling you.”

“That is true. But that Count, it seems he was swindled? I heard the treasure he bought after selling the tax collection rights and all manner of other things was fake. They say he is practically ruined now.”

“Oh dear. Tsk, tsk.”

“You should try to sweet-talk him. It seems he may sell his territory and title as well.”

“Well, I shall consider that slowly.”

“By the way, who is that handsome fellow?”

“Ah, he is someone I sponsor. He is entering this joust.”

“A sponsor? Hahaha...”

Walter laughed as though it were absurd. Nobles sometimes had peculiar hobbies or tastes, and that was how he understood it.

“If that fellow got greedy, it would be best to stop him. Business has been poor lately, so the boys are rather fierce.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know it as well, Deputy Master. The results of the competition are practically all decided in advance. That has gone on for so long that our reputations have declined. We are no longer hired as actively as before. So everyone is looking for prey.”

The surest way to raise one's reputation was to defeat an opponent spectacularly. But that made accidents more likely. In fixed matches, there was hardly any chance of getting hurt.

Walter's warning meant that entering the competition now might be dangerous.

“For your information, I am entering this competition as well. You know my temperament, do you not?”

Walter was infamous for being excessively cruel to the defeated. Even after a match was decided, he would deliberately trample a fallen opponent beneath his horse. Or if they could not pay a ransom, he would cut off an arm or heel so they could never fight again.

“If he is a friend you cherish, please prepare a generous ransom. Or it would be better to give up early. I am telling you because you are the Deputy Master.”

With that, he left. He turned back and grinned at Valerie, but Valerie only looked at him coldly.

Once Walter was gone, Lucas turned to Valerie.

“Do not worry, Valerie. I will make arrangements. Even if you lose...”

“No. Don't ever do that.”

“...There is always the slightest possibility.”

“That is the difference between a noble and a merchant. Sometimes, even without any safeguards, you do not retreat from a contest. You fight prepared to lose everything: reputation, status, wealth, fame, even your life. If you are going to imitate me, learn that instead of copying my clothes and hairstyle. If you cannot, then just do business.”

“...Valerie, are you a noble?”

He was not a noble, but royalty. Valerie said nothing more.

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