WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: HidingTurtle
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◈ The Wandering Knight and the Moving Castle ◈
Chapter 55: The Knight's House (1)
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A few days later, Varda, who had been watching the sky, approached Eugene.
“It would be best to stay in that village over there today.”
“Isn't it too early?”
It was only late afternoon, so stopping the march already felt like a waste.
“Tonight is one of the two lunar eclipses that occur each year. Magical power becomes highly unstable at times like this. People like us should avoid going out and rest instead.”
“I see.”
Eugene followed her advice, if only for Varda's sake as a mage.
The village was fairly large and saw plenty of travelers, so it had a sizable inn.
“A group of guests! Make room!”
The owner, who had been smoking in front of the inn, excitedly called inside. A woman who sounded like his wife answered, suggesting it was a family-run establishment.
“Welcome. Welcome to the Knight's Rest.”
“That is a fine name for an inn.”
“Hehe. Many people passing to and from the House of the Border Knight stop by here.”
The owner pointed to a wooden castle not far from the village. Perhaps because the two had a mutually beneficial relationship, he looked as proud of it as if it were his own home.
“It is a knight-training institution with two hundred years of history. Many children of prestigious families come here as well.”
Defeat in family politics, disillusionment with war, injuries, old age, the deaths of their children.
Knights withdrew from the world for many reasons. In Roman, retired knights often established knight houses, took in disciples, and taught them.
They did so to pass on dreams they had failed to achieve or to prevent skills refined over a lifetime from dying out. This was a fairly large institution.
“Everyone will be staying the night, and they'll order their meals separately. Take their orders individually.”
“Understood.”
The innkeeper beamed as he watched the mercenaries stream inside. If they stayed for just a few days, it would be like earning a week's worth of business.
“Sir Knight, I think we should arrange separate accommodations for the mage and the Squire.”
The mercenary captain spoke after quickly checking the second floor.
“What is the problem?”
“The three private rooms are already full.”
The inn's second-floor lodging was one large hall. Travelers lay scattered throughout the open space, much like a public bathhouse.
“It would be rather improper to have the two of them stay somewhere like that...”
The captain knew Eugene was a commander who ate and slept alongside his troops to keep an eye on their condition.
Still, Varda was noble, and Homi was as dear to him as a daughter despite the difference in their stations. He wanted to provide them both with a comfortable place to sleep.
Just then, several men in light armor with swords at their waists approached.
“Excuse us. We have come down from the House of the Border Knight.”
The man at the front introduced himself as a senior knight.
“I am Eugene of House Mayer.”
“Eugene! Are you perhaps the Victor Knight of Bonyard City?”
“I am.”
“It is an honor to meet you.”
Knight houses had to stay well informed.
They had to keep track of their patrons' circumstances and seek out suitable outside commissions, while also keeping their distance from nobles who wanted to drag their military strength into political struggles.
More importantly, this was a place where knight trainees gathered. Rumors about a famous young knight could not help but spread.
“We saw a large group of mercenaries enter the village. We came down because we were worried they might cause trouble.”
“That is admirable knightly spirit.”
“God has repaid us with a precious meeting. We would like to invite you to stay at our residence.”
The mercenary captain looked pleased. The Knight's House would certainly be more comfortable than the inn, and it would be difficult to refuse such an honorable invitation.
Eugene accepted, but first gave the mercenary captain a warning.
“Do not let the men eat the perpetual stew. You understand?”
“Of course.”
Perpetual stew was a pot dish found at most village inns. Visitors tossed in whatever ingredients they had, creating a chaotic porridge.
Fish heads, chicken bones, cabbage scraps, potatoes, wild greens, freshwater clams, flour, even unidentified chunks of fat. It had the hellish appearance of every imaginable thing floating in it.
Still, it was cheap, and the broth drawn from all those bones was surprisingly good. It was popular among penniless mercenaries and travelers.
“Cooking something for a long time doesn't make it safe. Toxins that cause food poisoning can still remain.”
To Eugene, who wanted a modern food-service system, it was an absurd dish. Bacteria might die in the heat, but people would still consume the toxins they had produced.
“Everyone's tastes have improved so much that they won't even look at it.”
“There are advantages to feeding them well, then.”
“Since working under you, none of the men have suffered from stomachaches or vomiting.”
The men did not follow Eugene's detailed rules simply because they respected him. They could clearly feel their health improving under his command.
Just as the mercenary captain was about to enter the smelly inn after seeing Eugene off...
Thud thud thud.
Homi came running over in a hurry.
“Did you forget something?”
She handed the mercenary captain a pouch of medicine from inside her clothes. It was meant to repel insects, including bedbugs.
After waving to him, she ran after Eugene. The mercenary captain watched her go with a warm smile.
* * *
“Hah!”
When they entered the wooden castle, trainees were sparring with wooden swords in the training yard.
Clatter! Clatter!
A mounted trainee rode through a course and thrust a spear into a dummy's chest.
Thud!
“Ow!”
In the middle of melee training, an instructor shouted at a trainee who had been struck by a nonlethal bolt and fallen.
“You fool! Haven't I told you to always watch your surroundings? Nothing is more frightening on the battlefield than a stray arrow. Anyone who fights relying only on hot blood and courage will die a dog's death to a bolt fired by some common soldier.”
Crash!
Hand-to-hand combat training was underway on a patch of sand. A muscular instructor tripped a trainee, twisted his arm, then shoved a wooden dagger into the exposed armpit.
“Aah! Go easier!”
“Did you see that? That is how you dig it in. Even someone wearing layers upon layers of armor cannot protect their armpits. No one survives a hole there. Get rid of the idea that you always have to settle things with a sword. There are plenty of people better armored and better with a blade than you.”
An old man dressed as a scribe was teaching first aid elsewhere.
“When the intestines spill out, don't move carelessly. Don't just shove them back in. Warm them with lukewarm water, then push them back in slowly.”
Using a straw rope, he demonstrated how to treat a slashed abdomen. Several boys looked terrified.
“It might not be a bad idea to recruit knights here.”
Varda looked around with admiration.
This was not simply a place that taught orthodox swordsmanship. It taught people how to survive and how to kill stronger enemies through every possible means.
“Their swordsmanship looks good, but their training is practical enough to send them straight into battle.”
“They are young knights just entering the world, so they won't be too hard on your purse either.”
“To be honest, that was the part I liked most.”
As they whispered, they arrived before a large building. Unlike the others, it was lavishly built of stone.
“Our master is inside. Today is the graduation examination.”
The senior knight pointed to the building.
“Will they be knighted when they graduate?”
“That is right. As a trainer of knights, our master has unrestricted authority to confer knighthoods.”
“That is an extraordinary honor.”
“It is a privilege granted by the Roman royal family because the senior knights made great contributions to suppressing a large rebellion long ago.”
It meant that, despite having just over a hundred people including trainees, instructors, and servants, this place held authority on the level of a lord. Naturally, the process for earning knighthood would be just as harsh.
Once inside, they found dozens of men surrounding a large dueling ground.
Clang!
Two trainees were fighting inside with practice swords, but the difference in their skill was obvious.
Smack!
“Argh!”
The trainee on the left took a solid blow, dropped his sword, and collapsed. Two other men lay nearby, apparently defeated in the same way.
“He has passed. The final examination is defeating three trainees chosen by the instructors in succession.”
The senior knight spoke.
The victor on the right removed his helmet. He was a handsome man with closely cropped hair, but he gave off something of a mamba-like impression. He respectfully knelt before his master.
“Haind, could you not have held back a little more? With your skill, you certainly could have.”
“It is the final rite of passage for a Border Knight. Both challenger and gatekeeper must be prepared to stake their lives. Otherwise, both the trial and those who overcome it will grow weak.”
The young man named Haind clearly could not compromise his beliefs, regardless of his respect for his master.
“That is Largo, the head of the Border Knights and master to them all.”
As the senior knight introduced him to Eugene, Largo noticed Eugene's arrival as well.
He possessed a sharpness that caught even the smallest changes among a crowd. His body had grown old, but his soul was still like a honed blade.
“I am Largo, the one who teaches them. Welcome, honored guest.”
“Eugene Mayer. Thanks to you, I was able to observe an honorable examination. Thanks be to the gods.”
Surprise and whispers spread among the men watching.
“I know it is rude to make a request upon our first meeting, but there is one thing I would like to ask of you.”
“Please, speak freely.”
Largo pointed to the young man who had just passed the examination.
“This is my disciple, Haind. He is the second prospective knight this year to complete every stage of training.”
‘Only two, and winter is almost here.’
Eugene realized that the training process here was far stricter than he had expected.
“Everyone here has been talking about you. Trial by combat, monsters, field battles, even siege warfare. If they could see the sword of someone who has experienced the life of a knight in such a concentrated form, it would greatly motivate them. Would you spar with Haind?”
It would be difficult to refuse, if only for Largo's sake. It was not a difficult request, and encounters like this could become connections.
“Very well. I accept this honorable duel.”
With Homi's help, Eugene removed his armor and entered the dueling ground. He received a practice sword and protective gear from a trainee, then put them on.
“It is an honor to cross blades with you.”
Despite his master's sudden order, Haind prepared himself without hesitation. If anything, his knightly fighting spirit burned brighter.
“As knights, we cannot avoid a match that comes to us.”
“Please do not speak so formally. I am not yet a knight. I am only a trainee who has not received knighthood.”
Although Haind fought hard, he spoke politely and saw his own position clearly. He took great pride in his institution, and his skills were excellent.
This type was difficult even for those teaching them. When trouble arose, they answered with clear and logical convictions, making them hard to reprimand.
“As your junior, I will move first.”
‘Junior.’
Eugene had been a knight for less than half a year, and Haind looked several years older than him. Yet in the world of knights, achievements were rank.
Eugene countered the sword rushing toward him while holding back very, very, very much.
* * *
Some time later, Haind lay spread-eagled on the ground, bruises blooming on several parts of his face and sweat soaking his entire body.
Again and again, Eugene used subtle techniques to deflect Haind's sword and stop his own blade before a vital point.
Again and again, Haind's sword was sent flying with a sharp clang against overwhelming strength.
Again and again, unfamiliar displays of hand-to-hand combat sent him tumbling, threw him, or knocked him away.
He had been utterly crushed in both strength and skill.
“What was that hand-to-hand combat?”
“I have never seen techniques like that. To use an opponent's rushing force against them so easily...”
“Deflecting a sword like that...”
Voices of awe and contemplation rose from all around. Eugene's strength was impressive, but he had also shown them many unfamiliar fighting techniques.
“I lost.”
Haind said it with a relieved expression.
The reason nothing had broken was because Eugene had done his utmost to control his strength.
‘He is the one I want most here. I want to bring him with me somehow.’
Athletes had to be recruited when they were still unknown, before their value rose and their salaries became expensive. Eugene had been considering recruiting knights for some time, and the best prospect had appeared before him.
Largo spoke to Haind, who struggled to his feet.
“The knighting ceremony will be tomorrow. Go and rest.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Dismissed!”
Largo clapped twice, and everyone withdrew to return to their duties.
“I invited you here, then dragged you into a fight at my convenience. I offer my apologies and gratitude once more.”
“It was a good experience for me as well.”
“Haind must have realized how vast the world is and how many strong people there are.”
“I don't know. After crossing blades with him, he does not seem like the type of knight who would grow arrogant at all.”
A faint smile touched Largo's face. Strict as he was, a master was still a master. He could not help but be pleased when a great knight praised his favorite disciple.
* * *
As winter approached, the days grew shorter. Though it was still evening, the moon was already vanishing into shadow in the dark sky. The lunar eclipse was close at hand.
Perhaps because Eugene was also something close to a mage, even the sound of grass and trees swaying in the wind seemed different from usual.
[Come to me. Warm the throne with your body heat.]
“What?!”
Eugene hurriedly scanned his surroundings at the whisper that slipped into his ear.
Yet all he saw were servants diligently preparing dinner and Homi staring at him with wide eyes.
“Didn't you hear anything just now?”
Twitch.
Shake, shake.
Homi's senses of touch, hearing, smell, and every other beastlike sense were extraordinary.
‘Was I imagining it?’
Even after digging at his ear, all Eugene could hear was the wind and Homi polishing his shoes.
She shoved her clenched fist inside one shoe, scrubbed it with a brush, then polished it with a solution. The sight reminded Eugene of his days as a soldier.
“You don't need to worry that much about my appearance when it's only a gathering of knights.”
Homi's expression was firm. Whenever Eugene attended a place like this, she always made sure he was properly groomed.
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