How to Live as a Wandering Knight

Amidst the cheers of the gathered crowd, Johan looked at the northern feudal lords in bewilderment as they waved their hands.

“Why are you doing that?”

His words were polite, but his meaning was closer to, ‘𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘪𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘢 𝘷𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘭?’ Only then did the feudal lords realize what they were doing, and they stopped their hands, their faces reddening.

“W-Well. . . We were just carried away by the joyous shouts of the commoners, that’s all.”

“Really? Well, there are many eyes watching, so it’s best to refrain from doing anything strange. Otherwise, people might misunderstand.”

“N-No. . . You’re right.”

It was no use trying to reason with them. The fact that they had been caught up in the excitement and cheered remained unchanged. The feudal lords quietly shut their mouths.

Unaware of their embarrassment, the spectators on the other side had already begun gossiping among themselves.

🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸

They didn’t disband immediately after hunting the dragon. Even when a much weaker demon was caught, they held a festival, so it was only natural for a grand celebration to be held now that a dragon had been slain.

Johan nodded in satisfaction as he watched new tents being set up and piles of wooden barrels being stacked.

Achladda spoke up as if he understood.

“Festivals are truly enjoyable, aren’t they, Duke? When I was back home, festival time was always the best.”

It was a much harsher land than the Empire, a prairie with nothing but grasslands, but even so, festivals were joyful. They drank liquor made from mare’s and sheep’s milk and held various competitions to determine who was the most skilled warrior.

The prizes were simple trinkets with a bit of silver mixed in, but even now, he recalled those times with great fondness.

“Hmm? What did you say?”

“I said that festivals are truly enjoyable.”

“Ah, that’s what you were talking about.”

“Were you not enjoying yourself because of the festival?”

“Well, you see, it’s not my gold that’s being spent; it’s the northern lords’ gold, you see.”

“. . . . . .”

Achladda looked at his lord with a speechless expression. Was the knight who slew a dragon just a few days ago really this dense?

However, Johan was genuinely enjoying himself. He enjoyed the festival itself, but the fact that it was all on someone else’s dime made it even more enjoyable.

The northern lords had participated in the civil war on the emperor’s side, and while they hadn’t managed to slay the dragon themselves, they weren’t shameless enough to lose all sense of custom and conscience.

If knights from outside had hunted the dragon for them and they still asked for money to hold a festival, they wouldn’t be called northern lords; they’d be called northern beggars.

That said, the lords weren’t holding the festival out of obligation. There was a reason why the northern lords, impoverished by the civil war, were so willing to open their purses.

This festival to commemorate the dragon hunt would more than appease the northern people’s discontent.

The grander the festival, the more satisfied the people would be. It could instantly wash away the grudges they held for being forcibly dragged into the civil war, and the disappointment of not gaining anything from it.

The feudal lords couldn’t help but care about northern public opinion. It had been particularly fierce lately.

There was sometimes a misunderstanding that the feudal lords viewed serfs not as people but as walking bags of silver that could be squeezed, but as long as they had brains, the feudal lords naturally paid attention to the opinions of their subjects. If they crossed the line, a rebellion could break out, and they would lose their investment.

“Are you participating in the jousting tournament, Duke?”

“I’ll pass. Let the northern knights compete among themselves.”

“U-uh. . . Can I not participate either?”

Achladda asked with a look of dismay. Johan replied as if it were obvious.

“Why would you try to butt in on an event where only the people of the north are enjoying themselves?”

“B-But. . . Don’t you think people would love to see a foreigner from afar defeating all the knights?”

“Don’t talk nonsense. And tell the others to stay put as well.”

Johan’s well-trained warriors followed him and would surely defeat the northern knights in the jousting tournament. He could guess what the atmosphere would be like after that without even having to see it.

Johan didn’t want to see such a sight.

‘𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘶𝘬𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯 𝘬𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩. . .’

Achladda grumbled inwardly.

🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸

While the festival was in full swing, the main force arrived one after another. They had come with siege weapons in tow, only to be met with the news that the dragon had already been slain, leaving many people feeling let down.

“Still, it’s a good thing we caught it. If we hadn’t, the north might have become a scorched wasteland.”

The dwarven engineers who had heard the news responded earnestly. The elf king muttered with a sullen expression.

“If only it had held out a little longer. . .”

The others present pretended not to hear. Johan pointed to the inner tent and said,

“Come, the feudal lords are waiting for us.”

Under the largest tent in the north, every piece of furniture that could be brought in seemed to have been brought in. Even so, the tent didn’t feel empty thanks to its immense size.

Ulrike whispered in a small voice,

“Aren’t the northerners being a bit too pretentious?”

“Well, this is their land, so I guess it’s fine to indulge them to this extent.”

Ulrike nodded at Johan’s reply. To be sure, she found it a bit funny when she thought about the rumors she had heard along the way.

It has been said that northern lords flocked to Johan as if vassals paying homage to their lord.

No matter how desperate the northern lords were, they would never do such a thing. It was a rumor that some fool had started, and if the northern lords heard it, they would surely be hopping mad.

But at a time like this, they couldn’t punish the ones spreading the rumors and dampen the mood. . .

“Count Visalfurk approaches!”

Olafsethan, the emperor’s eldest son, entered the tent. Olafsethan was also a noble who had rushed over upon hearing the news of the dragon hunt. Having inherited the fiefdom of the emperor, Olafsethan respectfully bowed his head to Johan.

Johan considered the two of them to be people they could communicate with, as Johan had once saved Olafsethan’s life when he was on the verge of death. They were both moderates who didn’t particularly enjoy fighting.

Of course, one of them didn’t look that way on the surface. . .

Olafsethan began to lavishly praise the foreigners with a brief greeting. As he recited each of their minor achievements from years ago, Johan and Ulrike almost yawned without realizing it.

In contrast, Iselia and the elf king listened with great interest, their ears perked up. Elves had a talent for enjoying even the most trivial of achievements as long as they were their own.

“Now, let us offer a toast to the honorable guests who have graced the north with their presence!”

After a round of applause, Olafsethan looked at Biorarn. Despite not being on the best of terms with his younger brother, Olafsethan spoke with sincerity.

“Sir Biorarn. I have heard that you also participated in the dragon hunt and distinguished yourself. As a lord of the north, I am grateful to you. I shall duly reward you in accordance with custom.”

Originally, he had no intention of giving even a small fiefdom to his brother, with whom he didn’t get along, but his mind had changed after hearing the story of the dragon hunt. His brother deserved to be rewarded as a knight, and Olafsethan had a duty as the head of the family to reward him.

“W-Well. . .”

“??”

Olafsethan had expected Biorarn to be more pleased. As a knight, receiving a fiefdom was an enormous boon.

However, Biorarn only hesitated, glancing at the duke.

“Considering your accomplishments, it is only right that you be celebrated.”

“T-Thank you!”

Only then did Biorarn seem to relax, genuinely delighted. Olafsethan suddenly wondered if Biorarn had perhaps suffered a head injury. Otherwise, there was no reason for him to be acting so strangely.

It wasn’t like it was unheard of for knights to ignore orders and charge in recklessly. . .

“Wait a moment. Where is that Volgarek bas. . . No, Sir Volgarek?”

“He is laid up with serious injuries.”

“Is that so?”

A smile spread across Olafsethan’s lips. It was an instinctive smile. Olafsethan soon realized this and gave an awkward cough.

“Ahem. That is unfortunate. Sir Volgarek shall also be rewarded in accordance with custom. . .”

“Sir Volgarek didn’t really do anything. He didn’t even participate in the subjugation.”

“His scouting didn’t seem to be of much help either.”

“. . .?!”

Olafsethan was taken aback. He wasn’t taken aback by the duke’s cold evaluation. As a foreigner, the duke was free to say whatever he wanted.

What Olafsethan was taken aback by was the fact that the other northern lords were looking away.

‘𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺’𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮?’

Unless he had committed some major blunder, there was no way the lords would be this cold to him. They weren’t even giving him a piece of their own land. This was an opportunity to curry favor with someone else’s land.

“Then let us simply pass over Sir Volgarek.”

Olafsethan readily agreed. He had no intention of forcefully giving land to Volgarek, whom he disliked. He was even tempted to visit his tent and mock him.

“Your Excellency Count!”

“?”

One of the northern lords stood up. It was clear at a glance that he had drunk the most, as he was completely flushed.

“Do you have something to say regarding Sir Volgarek?”

“That. . . No! That is. . . Ack!”

Instead of speaking, the northern lord pounded his chest. The others burst into laughter, as there were quite a few who were drunk. It was only natural for there to be at least one such person at a lively gathering.

“I. . . I can’t breathe. . .”

𝐓𝐡𝐮𝐝!

The northern lord collapsed forward. The laughter of the northerners grew louder. Suetlg, who had been silent, spoke up, realizing that something was amiss.

“Wait, something’s wrong!”

“Of course there is, wizard! This is how we drink in the north!”

“Hahahahahaha!”

“. . . . . .”

Suetlg was enraged by the northerners’ uncooperativeness. Having spent so long speaking with the duke, who was exceptionally easy to communicate with, he had forgotten that nobles were originally like this.

“Hear me out, lords!”

“Very well, wizard. If you can finish this cup, we shall all listen to you! Now, fill the wizard’s cup to the brim!”

𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐦!

Johan slammed his fist on the table. With a loud crack, the thick table was smashed to pieces, and everything on it fell to the floor. The atmosphere instantly turned chilly. The laughing lords gasped and held their breath.

“Listen up.”

“. . .Yes!”

“He did not collapse from drinking!”

Suetlg shouted as he placed a hand on the fallen lord’s neck. It was clear that he hadn’t collapsed from drinking.

“What in the. . . Ugh.”

“Urgh. . .?”

The northern lords began to collapse one after another. The lords from afar were bewildered by the sudden change of events and looked at each other.

‘𝘞𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥? 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘴?’

Ulrike looked at Johan with wavering eyes. Fortunately, Johan was fine. She then looked at the elf king. He was also fine, despite her not being particularly worried about him.

Olafsethan said with a trembling voice,

“W-What is the meaning of this?”

“It’s clearly the dragon’s curse!!”

One of the servants screamed. He had heard in old tales that the dragon’s curse was so powerful that it could even drag its killer down to the afterlife.

“. . .?”

As soon as he heard this, Johan realized that something was logically wrong. Johan was the one who had done the most stabbing and beating, killing the dragon, yet he was perfectly fine. Furthermore, the dragon hadn’t uttered any curses or the like when it died.

“It’s the dragon’s curse!! The dragon’s curse!!”

“Aaaaargh!”

“Isn’t it just an illness?”

Johan said to Suetlg. Suetlg, who had been seriously checking the condition of the lords, nodded.

“I think so too. Judging from the fact that quite a few people are fine, it doesn’t seem to be contagious. . . It looks like some kind of illness caused by eating or drinking something bad.”

“That’s a relief, at least.”

Johan opened his mouth to calm the other northerners.

“Everyone, calm down. This isn’t the dragon’s curse, it’s just an illness.”

“I-Is that so!”

“R-Really. It’s comforting to hear you say that, Your Highness the Duke.”

“?”

Johan sensed something off in the reactions of the others. They didn’t seem to be genuinely accepting what he said, but rather answering in a way that suggested they were simply acknowledging it out of fear of Johan.

“It’s really not the dragon’s curse. . .”

“I. . . I think so too, Your Excellency. I trust it is not impolite of me to take my leave now, Your Highness.”

“. . . . . .”,

Amidst the cheers of the gathered crowd, Johan looked at the northern feudal lords in bewilderment as they waved their hands.

“Why are you doing that?”

His words were polite, but his meaning was closer to, ‘𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘪𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘢 𝘷𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘭?’ Only then did the feudal lords realize what they were doing, and they stopped their hands, their faces reddening.

“W-Well. . . We were just carried away by the joyous shouts of the commoners, that’s all.”

“Really? Well, there are many eyes watching, so it’s best to refrain from doing anything strange. Otherwise, people might misunderstand.”

“N-No. . . You’re right.”

It was no use trying to reason with them. The fact that they had been caught up in the excitement and cheered remained unchanged. The feudal lords quietly shut their mouths.

Unaware of their embarrassment, the spectators on the other side had already begun gossiping among themselves.

🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸

They didn’t disband immediately after hunting the dragon. Even when a much weaker demon was caught, they held a festival, so it was only natural for a grand celebration to be held now that a dragon had been slain.

Johan nodded in satisfaction as he watched new tents being set up and piles of wooden barrels being stacked.

Achladda spoke up as if he understood.

“Festivals are truly enjoyable, aren’t they, Duke? When I was back home, festival time was always the best.”

It was a much harsher land than the Empire, a prairie with nothing but grasslands, but even so, festivals were joyful. They drank liquor made from mare’s and sheep’s milk and held various competitions to determine who was the most skilled warrior.

The prizes were simple trinkets with a bit of silver mixed in, but even now, he recalled those times with great fondness.

“Hmm? What did you say?”

“I said that festivals are truly enjoyable.”

“Ah, that’s what you were talking about.”

“Were you not enjoying yourself because of the festival?”

“Well, you see, it’s not my gold that’s being spent; it’s the northern lords’ gold, you see.”

“. . . . . .”

Achladda looked at his lord with a speechless expression. Was the knight who slew a dragon just a few days ago really this dense?

However, Johan was genuinely enjoying himself. He enjoyed the festival itself, but the fact that it was all on someone else’s dime made it even more enjoyable.

The northern lords had participated in the civil war on the emperor’s side, and while they hadn’t managed to slay the dragon themselves, they weren’t shameless enough to lose all sense of custom and conscience.

If knights from outside had hunted the dragon for them and they still asked for money to hold a festival, they wouldn’t be called northern lords; they’d be called northern beggars.

That said, the lords weren’t holding the festival out of obligation. There was a reason why the northern lords, impoverished by the civil war, were so willing to open their purses.

This festival to commemorate the dragon hunt would more than appease the northern people’s discontent.

The grander the festival, the more satisfied the people would be. It could instantly wash away the grudges they held for being forcibly dragged into the civil war, and the disappointment of not gaining anything from it.

The feudal lords couldn’t help but care about northern public opinion. It had been particularly fierce lately.

There was sometimes a misunderstanding that the feudal lords viewed serfs not as people but as walking bags of silver that could be squeezed, but as long as they had brains, the feudal lords naturally paid attention to the opinions of their subjects. If they crossed the line, a rebellion could break out, and they would lose their investment.

“Are you participating in the jousting tournament, Duke?”

“I’ll pass. Let the northern knights compete among themselves.”

“U-uh. . . Can I not participate either?”

Achladda asked with a look of dismay. Johan replied as if it were obvious.

“Why would you try to butt in on an event where only the people of the north are enjoying themselves?”

“B-But. . . Don’t you think people would love to see a foreigner from afar defeating all the knights?”

“Don’t talk nonsense. And tell the others to stay put as well.”

Johan’s well-trained warriors followed him and would surely defeat the northern knights in the jousting tournament. He could guess what the atmosphere would be like after that without even having to see it.

Johan didn’t want to see such a sight.

‘𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘶𝘬𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯 𝘬𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩. . .’

Achladda grumbled inwardly.

🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸

While the festival was in full swing, the main force arrived one after another. They had come with siege weapons in tow, only to be met with the news that the dragon had already been slain, leaving many people feeling let down.

“Still, it’s a good thing we caught it. If we hadn’t, the north might have become a scorched wasteland.”

The dwarven engineers who had heard the news responded earnestly. The elf king muttered with a sullen expression.

“If only it had held out a little longer. . .”

The others present pretended not to hear. Johan pointed to the inner tent and said,

“Come, the feudal lords are waiting for us.”

Under the largest tent in the north, every piece of furniture that could be brought in seemed to have been brought in. Even so, the tent didn’t feel empty thanks to its immense size.

Ulrike whispered in a small voice,

“Aren’t the northerners being a bit too pretentious?”

“Well, this is their land, so I guess it’s fine to indulge them to this extent.”

Ulrike nodded at Johan’s reply. To be sure, she found it a bit funny when she thought about the rumors she had heard along the way.

It has been said that northern lords flocked to Johan as if vassals paying homage to their lord.

No matter how desperate the northern lords were, they would never do such a thing. It was a rumor that some fool had started, and if the northern lords heard it, they would surely be hopping mad.

But at a time like this, they couldn’t punish the ones spreading the rumors and dampen the mood. . .

“Count Visalfurk approaches!”

Olafsethan, the emperor’s eldest son, entered the tent. Olafsethan was also a noble who had rushed over upon hearing the news of the dragon hunt. Having inherited the fiefdom of the emperor, Olafsethan respectfully bowed his head to Johan.

Johan considered the two of them to be people they could communicate with, as Johan had once saved Olafsethan’s life when he was on the verge of death. They were both moderates who didn’t particularly enjoy fighting.

Of course, one of them didn’t look that way on the surface. . .

Olafsethan began to lavishly praise the foreigners with a brief greeting. As he recited each of their minor achievements from years ago, Johan and Ulrike almost yawned without realizing it.

In contrast, Iselia and the elf king listened with great interest, their ears perked up. Elves had a talent for enjoying even the most trivial of achievements as long as they were their own.

“Now, let us offer a toast to the honorable guests who have graced the north with their presence!”

After a round of applause, Olafsethan looked at Biorarn. Despite not being on the best of terms with his younger brother, Olafsethan spoke with sincerity.

“Sir Biorarn. I have heard that you also participated in the dragon hunt and distinguished yourself. As a lord of the north, I am grateful to you. I shall duly reward you in accordance with custom.”

Originally, he had no intention of giving even a small fiefdom to his brother, with whom he didn’t get along, but his mind had changed after hearing the story of the dragon hunt. His brother deserved to be rewarded as a knight, and Olafsethan had a duty as the head of the family to reward him.

“W-Well. . .”

“??”

Olafsethan had expected Biorarn to be more pleased. As a knight, receiving a fiefdom was an enormous boon.

However, Biorarn only hesitated, glancing at the duke.

“Considering your accomplishments, it is only right that you be celebrated.”

“T-Thank you!”

Only then did Biorarn seem to relax, genuinely delighted. Olafsethan suddenly wondered if Biorarn had perhaps suffered a head injury. Otherwise, there was no reason for him to be acting so strangely.

It wasn’t like it was unheard of for knights to ignore orders and charge in recklessly. . .

“Wait a moment. Where is that Volgarek bas. . . No, Sir Volgarek?”

“He is laid up with serious injuries.”

“Is that so?”

A smile spread across Olafsethan’s lips. It was an instinctive smile. Olafsethan soon realized this and gave an awkward cough.

“Ahem. That is unfortunate. Sir Volgarek shall also be rewarded in accordance with custom. . .”

“Sir Volgarek didn’t really do anything. He didn’t even participate in the subjugation.”

“His scouting didn’t seem to be of much help either.”

“. . .?!”

Olafsethan was taken aback. He wasn’t taken aback by the duke’s cold evaluation. As a foreigner, the duke was free to say whatever he wanted.

What Olafsethan was taken aback by was the fact that the other northern lords were looking away.

‘𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺’𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮?’

Unless he had committed some major blunder, there was no way the lords would be this cold to him. They weren’t even giving him a piece of their own land. This was an opportunity to curry favor with someone else’s land.

“Then let us simply pass over Sir Volgarek.”

Olafsethan readily agreed. He had no intention of forcefully giving land to Volgarek, whom he disliked. He was even tempted to visit his tent and mock him.

“Your Excellency Count!”

“?”

One of the northern lords stood up. It was clear at a glance that he had drunk the most, as he was completely flushed.

“Do you have something to say regarding Sir Volgarek?”

“That. . . No! That is. . . Ack!”

Instead of speaking, the northern lord pounded his chest. The others burst into laughter, as there were quite a few who were drunk. It was only natural for there to be at least one such person at a lively gathering.

“I. . . I can’t breathe. . .”

𝐓𝐡𝐮𝐝!

The northern lord collapsed forward. The laughter of the northerners grew louder. Suetlg, who had been silent, spoke up, realizing that something was amiss.

“Wait, something’s wrong!”

“Of course there is, wizard! This is how we drink in the north!”

“Hahahahahaha!”

“. . . . . .”

Suetlg was enraged by the northerners’ uncooperativeness. Having spent so long speaking with the duke, who was exceptionally easy to communicate with, he had forgotten that nobles were originally like this.

“Hear me out, lords!”

“Very well, wizard. If you can finish this cup, we shall all listen to you! Now, fill the wizard’s cup to the brim!”

𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐦!

Johan slammed his fist on the table. With a loud crack, the thick table was smashed to pieces, and everything on it fell to the floor. The atmosphere instantly turned chilly. The laughing lords gasped and held their breath.

“Listen up.”

“. . .Yes!”

“He did not collapse from drinking!”

Suetlg shouted as he placed a hand on the fallen lord’s neck. It was clear that he hadn’t collapsed from drinking.

“What in the. . . Ugh.”

“Urgh. . .?”

The northern lords began to collapse one after another. The lords from afar were bewildered by the sudden change of events and looked at each other.

‘𝘞𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥? 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘴?’

Ulrike looked at Johan with wavering eyes. Fortunately, Johan was fine. She then looked at the elf king. He was also fine, despite her not being particularly worried about him.

Olafsethan said with a trembling voice,

“W-What is the meaning of this?”

“It’s clearly the dragon’s curse!!”

One of the servants screamed. He had heard in old tales that the dragon’s curse was so powerful that it could even drag its killer down to the afterlife.

“. . .?”

As soon as he heard this, Johan realized that something was logically wrong. Johan was the one who had done the most stabbing and beating, killing the dragon, yet he was perfectly fine. Furthermore, the dragon hadn’t uttered any curses or the like when it died.

“It’s the dragon’s curse!! The dragon’s curse!!”

“Aaaaargh!”

“Isn’t it just an illness?”

Johan said to Suetlg. Suetlg, who had been seriously checking the condition of the lords, nodded.

“I think so too. Judging from the fact that quite a few people are fine, it doesn’t seem to be contagious. . . It looks like some kind of illness caused by eating or drinking something bad.”

“That’s a relief, at least.”

Johan opened his mouth to calm the other northerners.

“Everyone, calm down. This isn’t the dragon’s curse, it’s just an illness.”

“I-Is that so!”

“R-Really. It’s comforting to hear you say that, Your Highness the Duke.”

“?”

Johan sensed something off in the reactions of the others. They didn’t seem to be genuinely accepting what he said, but rather answering in a way that suggested they were simply acknowledging it out of fear of Johan.

“It’s really not the dragon’s curse. . .”

“I. . . I think so too, Your Excellency. I trust it is not impolite of me to take my leave now, Your Highness.”

“. . . . . .”