Chapter 119: Scout (1)
"I'd like to discuss the proposal we spoke about last time."
"Who was it about again?"
"A trainee knight from the Mage-Knight Order. I believe he's the right person to handle not only future challenges but also the issues currently unfolding."
While the man with muscular arms sitting to the right of the golden-haired woman pondered who the proposal referred to, the blue-eyed girl seated to the woman's left shook her head.
"On a personal level, I'd say I'm acquainted with him, but I'm against it."
"May I ask why?"
"He's still young. His skills are decent, but he lacks experience. His personality isn't bad; in fact, he might be the ideal type of recruit we're looking for. But I think it's too soon."
"So, you believe he doesn't meet the standards?"
"I think his age is the issue. It'd be better to wait until he officially completes his training period. By then, he'll be more mature both in skill and mentality."
"Oh, that guy!"
The muscular man, who hadn't followed the conversation until now, finally seemed to realize who they were talking about.
"Listen here, old man. That kid's no good. No way, not in a million years."
The girl frowned at being called "old man," but knowing the man's usual demeanor, she let it slide without complaint.
"Are you saying he has no talent?"
"No, it's the opposite. He's too talented. That kid's a monster, a beast."
The man tugged at his white beard, which hinted at his age. Despite the beard suggesting he was past his 80s, his skin and muscles were robust, making it hard to believe he was an old man. In fact, just a decade ago, he had fathered his third son, proof of his vitality.
"Training him to be a knight is like teaching a leopard or wolf how to use a sword. He already fights well on his own, but he's not the type to learn from a knight's teachings."
"When it comes to swordsmanship, no one knows better than you, so I'll have to take your word for it."
"With that said, I'm in favor of bringing him in now. There's no need to wait for growth. He's not going to be a knight; he's more likely to grow into a killer."
"Normally, such proposals would require unanimous agreement, but given the urgency of the situation, we'll settle this by majority vote. Is that acceptable?"
The golden-haired woman's suggestion drew a dissatisfied expression from the blue-eyed girl, but she eventually decided to concede.
"I'll change my vote to abstain."
"Then, by unanimous consent for now, this proposal will pass."
"Should I bring him in right away?"
"I'll notify his superior and send for him—"
Before the golden-haired woman could finish her sentence, the man had already bolted out of the room.
"For someone who's the youngest here, he has absolutely no manners."
The blue-eyed girl sighed as the golden-haired woman simply smiled and waited.
---
"All right, clean enough."
After a chaotic mess, while the other trainees enjoyed expensive meals and fine wine, I spent my time cleaning the bloodstains off my uniform. I tried everything: overheating my mana saber to iron out the fabric, pressing it under Dane's mana shield for extra weight, and more. Finally, after much trouble, I managed to join the dining table.
As for my shoes, which had been particularly stained, I enlisted Mollang to help clean them. After feeding her some charcoal and having her scrub them with her body, they were so polished they practically gleamed—almost too much.
Since pets were allowed here, I didn't worry too much. Even if they weren't allowed, I'd have brought her in anyway.
'There's going to be a lot of delicious food. I'll sneak some for Shuru.'
I wasn't the type of master to eat all the good stuff alone. Normally, Shuru only got the standard rations of the knight corps, so occasions like this were perfect for treating her to something fancy.
"What's the best thing here?"
"This is great—what do they call it? Mermaid eggs, I think?" Dane said, scooping some onto his plate.
Hearing that, I immediately put my spoon down.
"Mermaid eggs? Isn't that borderline cannibalism? Sounds gross."
"It's just a name. They're actually eggs from farmed marine monsters. They're incredibly rare, produced in small quantities annually in the Baran Principality in the southern continent," Jake explained, ever the noble-born expert on high-end delicacies.
Still, despite the explanation...
"It's fishy."
"Tastes awful."
"That unique flavor is the appeal," Jake said defensively.
"You can have it all."
It didn't suit my taste.
'Why do nobles spend so much money on eggs that still smell like fish?'
"If you don't like it, you can spit it out. The baskets under the table are vomit baskets. They're there so you can eat until you're full, throw up, and then keep eating."
"Ugh, that's disgusting."
"Not many people actually use them for that," Jake reassured, laughing.
The atmosphere among us trainees was cheerful as we ate. The noble-born trainees often shared rare and expensive foods with the rest of us, though we frequently found them unpalatable or overly rich. Eventually, the nobles stuck to their exclusive delicacies while the rest of us enjoyed familiar staples—well-made steaks and grilled salmon.
"This tastes better, doesn't it?"
"Meow!"
Shuru was happily gnawing on an expensive piece of meat, her tiny hands tearing into it with enthusiasm. Meanwhile, Mollang remained in her slimy form, lazily clinging to my hand as if bored, showing no interest in the food.
"Ughhh..."
The banquet had started with us being the first to arrive in the empty hall. Soon after, the food was brought out, but when we tried to dig in, the servants stopped us, insisting we wait for the Royal Guard Knights to arrive.
Naturally, we were irritated after the emotional farewell we'd gone through earlier, but arguing with the servants—who were just following orders—would only tarnish our dignity as knights. So we sat there quietly, resisting the urge to eat, waiting for the Royal Guard to show up.
Now, with a bit of time passed, our group of trainees was finally enjoying the banquet food with excitement.
"Are they not hungry or something?"
"Just leave them. They're trained in the royal palace—they probably eat this kind of food every day."
The 200 members of the Royal Guard Knights were huddled in a corner, sulking after we had thoroughly beaten them earlier.
"They weren't even skilled enough to start a fight in the first place."
Our initial intent wasn't outright rebellion but rather a subtle protest against the discrimination we faced as knights. We decided to challenge a few of the Royal Guard Knights to duels as a form of symbolic resistance. Conveniently, those arrogant bastards had started spouting nonsense the moment they entered.
"Look at those shabby uniforms. Even for a failing knight order, that's just disgraceful."
They had come dressed in luxurious white ceremonial uniforms imbued with enchantments for shock absorption, temperature regulation, stain resistance, and moisture wicking. The uniforms were undoubtedly expensive and effective—their clothes remained pristine despite their bloody noses after we beat them down.
The shock absorption enchantment, however, didn't seem to hold up; my mana-infused punch to their gut was enough to knock them flat. Still, for ceremonial attire, staying clean was good enough, I supposed.
Our senior knight, who should've stepped in to stop us, conveniently looked the other way. Dane used his broad frame to block the senior's line of sight while the rest of us ganged up on the Royal Guard, teaching them a lesson. The senior, visibly annoyed by the Royal Guard's arrogance, chose to feign ignorance.
Thanks to our "kind" Royal Guard friends being relegated to the corner, we could loosen our belts and enjoy the banquet in peace. Even the servants, initially hesitant to serve us, began providing food without complaint after witnessing the earlier fight.
"Deputy Commander Dertrude von Pondel of the Royal Guard Knights is here!"
Trainee knights are usually under the supervision of a senior knight or require special permission to act independently. The Royal Guard, however, seemed to lack such oversight, as their deputy commander arrived only now.
"What in the world is going on here?!"
"Sir Pondel!"
The beaten Royal Guards, bloodied and humiliated, clung to the deputy commander like children tattling to their mother. Between sobs, they babbled about how the Mage-Knight trainees had attacked them unprovoked.
"You're telling me you lost to these thugs? To those notorious scoundrels who are constantly reported for misconduct near the knight orders?"
"We have no excuse! But they provoked us and attacked without warning—"
"Levin, to be fair, didn't they start it?"
"Exactly. They came at us looking like they wanted to pick a fight, but their punches were so slow I had time to land five hits before they could even touch me. Clearly self-defense."
When they arrived, they sprayed perfume all over the place, complaining about the smell of sweat. Spraying perfume over food? How could anyone let that slide? And knights smelling of perfume instead of sweat? What kind of knights were they?
Even our female knight trainees, who did their best to stay clean, reeked of sweat after training. This wasn't a ballroom—it was a knightly banquet.
The deputy commander huffed and puffed as he stomped toward us. Watching him, I turned to Levin and whispered.
"Think he's going to blow up on us?"
"He will."
"I was about to bet the same thing. Guess there's no point in wagering if we agree."
From his muttering—phrases like "filthy thugs" and "disgrace to the Royal Guard"—it was obvious he was about to explode. If you looked at it positively, you could call it a strong sense of loyalty to his order. On the flip side, it reeked of an overbearing superiority complex.
"How dare you ambush the Royal Guard, injure them, and outnumber them no less!"
"Let's get the facts straight. They're 200 strong, and we're barely 130. How exactly are we the bigger group?"
As tensions rose, Jake, who had connections to noble circles, stepped in to de-escalate the situation.
"Let's all calm down and settle this through dialogue."
"Silence! I'll have you all thrown in prison for insubordination!"
'Insubordination?'
Knights often tested each other through duels and minor skirmishes. It was seen as youthful energy and usually overlooked. But insubordination? We were both trainee knights, enlisted at the same time—what kind of hierarchy was he imagining?
"Why are you glaring at me with those big, round eyes?!"
I pointed to Levin's eyes.
"He's glaring sharply. His eyes don't do 'big and round.'"
Momentarily speechless, the deputy commander fumbled for a retort, his face turning red with anger.
"If you're so upset, let's settle this with a duel."
Normally, I'd throw down a gauntlet to issue a formal challenge, but our ceremonial uniforms didn't include gloves. Tossing Mollang at his face to declare a duel didn't seem appropriate, so I encouraged him to throw his own glove instead.
"Fine! I'll fix your insolence myself!"
Just as his glove was about to hit me, I stood tall, prepared to catch it and teach him a lesson. But instinctively, I dodged as something massive hurtled toward me.
Crash!
A flagpole embedded itself where my head had just been, piercing through the dining table and lodging deep into the marble floor. The flag unfurled, revealing its insignia.
"Commander Ballor of the Royal Guard Knights."
But he was far more famous for another title:
The Sword of the King dom.
"Master Swordsman Ballor."
The pinnacle of knights had just smashed through the banquet hall doors.