Surviving as a Knight in a Trash Game

Chapter 10

“My lady!”

As Rosalyn burst through the door, Selena thought to herself, So it’s finally come.

“Stop. Don’t say anything.”

“No, that’s not it, my lady—”

“It’s all right. I’m… fine.”

She murmured to herself with a face on the verge of tears. And Rosalyn, watching her, was full of smiles.

If Selena had the slightest bit of emotional bandwidth left, she might have questioned Rosalyn’s strange expression—but she had none left to spare.

“My lady, please lift your head.”

“…”

Selena raised her tearful eyes to look at Rosalyn.

“It’s all right, my lady. Lord Vito is safe!”

Hearing Rosalyn shout joyfully, Selena became absolutely certain—this girl has gone mad.

“What are you talking about? You said the invasion had already begun. How can Father be safe?”

She had been doing her best to gather what information she could from her surroundings and had believed that Baron Vito wouldn’t be able to hold out for long.

“They say a Free Knight appeared out of nowhere, defeated all of Bolido’s knights to save the wrongfully accused baron, and then vanished like a ghost.”

“Ah…!”

At the words a Free Knight who appeared out of nowhere, one man’s face flashed through her mind.

“Sir Karl…?”

“….”

Trembling, she buried her face into her pillow.

Since arriving at the monastery, she hadn’t eaten properly. Her body had clearly grown thin enough to show the difference at a glance.

“Then… is Sir Karl still in the domain?”

“They say he left immediately after the battle ended…”

“Ah…”

Disappointment colored her face as her head lowered.

She had wanted to repay him in some way. But there was nothing she could do right now.

All she could do was offer a sincere prayer from the bottom of her heart.

‘Thank you… truly, thank you.’

***

“Hyah! Yah!”

Hooves thundered as two riders galloped toward Tennesse Castle. They headed straight for the lord’s keep.

Along the way, they were stopped by confident-looking guards, but meeting with Baron Vito wasn’t difficult. In times like these, no lord would turn away the captain of the Holy Knight Order.

“Welcome to Tennesse Castle, Sir Godfrey.”

“May the glory of the Lord shine upon Baron Vito’s path.”

At Godfrey’s formal greeting, Baron Vito’s expression shifted subtly.

“It’s quite the coincidence, and amusing too, Sir Godfrey.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I received help from another knight who said something very similar not too long ago.”

“…?”

Godfrey blinked in confusion, and Vito smiled gently.

“May I ask what brings a great Holy Knight all the way to a rural border domain such as this?”

“It’s nothing serious. I was simply following up on the deaths of seven Free Knights and happened to come this way.”

“They were likely the Northwind Knights who came to aid Baron Bolido. Am I right?”

“…You are.”

“They were slain during the domain war, at the hands of one of our knights.”

Godfrey’s eyes slowly closed. Though calm on the outside, his mind was racing.

A warrior powerful enough to defeat seven knights and thirteen cavalrymen single-handedly.

A man who uses Holy Knight techniques, who crossed from the East Continent to the West.

Likely not in good standing with Count Calido.

Everything pointed to one man.

“You seem to be deep in thought. Why not start with a meal? From the looks of you, you haven’t rested once on your way here.”

Growl…

Godfrey’s stomach gave a loud growl right on cue, and Baron Vito politely ignored it.

“The man who aided us was a Free Knight named Karl. That’s all I know of his identity, but I can tell you of his deeds while we eat.”

As they dined, Godfrey listened quietly to Baron Vito’s story. And with every word, his thoughts turned to a legend born of the East Continent.

The first time that man appeared was in a desert called Chevalier.

It was a territory overrun by heretic warriors from the East Continent—a fierce battleground where West Continent forces, under the banner of the Holy War, clashed with Eastern troops.

It was during one of the many endless battles there that a certain Baron Nopak led his soldiers into an independent operation.

They were ambushed and nearly wiped out when, suddenly, a man with no name or known origin appeared like a phantom and tore through the enemy formation.

Rumors of this man spread through the mouths of the scattered survivors—and the name Ghost of Chevalier began to circulate.

He would go on to appear in other skirmishes, becoming the stuff of legend.

There’s no doubt now. It’s him.

***

After the Battle of Tennesse Castle ended, Karl received a notification that his mission was complete.

[Mission Complete.]

[Story Progress: 0.5%]

Karl didn’t obsess over the 0.5% progress he could now see.

Having spent 15 years stuck at 0%, he knew better than anyone that anxiety wouldn't solve anything.

Currently, Karl was far to the west of the central capital. After passing through small domains like Tennesse and heading north, he arrived at a place called Dinston.

It was a significantly larger domain than those he’d seen earlier—with more people, more money, and as such, sturdier defenses.

The structure featured both outer and inner walls across a moat—designed so that even if the first barrier fell, defenders could retreat to the next line of defense and continue fighting.

Crossing the drawbridge and entering the outer castle, he saw people bustling about their work.

Located roughly between the northern and southern parts of the western region, Dinston was a hub for merchants crossing between domains.

Naturally, where people gathered, flies followed.

“Let me go! I said, let go of me!”

“Stop right there!”

He hadn’t been walking long when he noticed people quarreling over bundles, and a thief making off with a large loaf of bread from a stall.

“Need a place to stay!? Come to the Traveler’s Grove! It's perfect for a fine knight like yourself!”

Just as Karl frowned at the disorder, a small child ran up beside him and offered a wooden plaque with a crudely etched name—clearly meant to serve as a business card.

Hoh…

Karl gave a slight nod, impressed by the kid’s initiative, and followed him on horseback.

Venturing deep into the outer walls, they eventually arrived at a rather decent-looking inn.

“Welcome!”

A young woman greeted him cheerfully as he stepped inside.

Judging from the worn-down chairs and tables, repeatedly patched and fixed, this place wasn’t so different from any other inn in the world.

“One of the cleanest rooms. And hot bath water.”

Karl handed over a generous amount of silver.

“Levy! Show this fine guest to the room at the end of the second floor!”

As he climbed the stairs, Karl glanced around.

Everyone seated inside was armed—swords at their waists, axes, even flails. And all their eyes were on Karl as he entered.

After taking a rare, proper bath, Karl returned downstairs in a clean state and picked a seat at random.

“What’ll you have?”

“Whatever you’re good at. Something simple. And a cold beer.”

The innkeeper soon emerged from the kitchen with a few basic dishes. Unfortunately, the beer was lukewarm.

“Did you hear? The Stewart gang is raising their protection fees again.”

“What? Didn’t they already raise it last month?”

“Well, the Stewart lot are just thugs, sure—but I hear the Dalton Knights are the ones putting pressure from above.”

“Knights, my ass. They’re a bunch of armored punks with swords.”

“Quiet, man. Say something like that too loud and you might lose your head.”

“I’m a freeman! Who the hell are they to—!”

In this world, freemen were rare within a domain. Most were serfs. Free farmers who owned their own land were few and far between.

This man, claiming to be a freeman and speaking boldly, likely held a decent amount of wealth in this land.

He fulfilled his duties to the lord and, in return, held the right to protection—meaning it wouldn’t be easy for a knight to just kill him. But even so, his eyes nervously scanned the room.

When his gaze met Karl’s—someone who, at a glance, was clearly a knight—he quickly averted his eyes.

“This guy might know how to farm, but he’s clueless. Haven’t you heard the rumors? They say the Dalton Knights are deeply connected to the lord. And it doesn’t stop there—rumor is they’ve got ties to the Alcantara Knights too. Even the lord can’t touch them.”

“A pawn of a pawn of a pawn? That’s ridiculous…”

As expected from two wealthier freemen, their conversation had more substance than that of typical serfs. Karl listened to them while sipping from his mug.

“What’s got you so interested?”

The young innkeeper casually sat across from Karl.

“Just stories of the world.”

“There’s not much fun in stories from around here. Just people struggling to get by.”

“Seems the ones above are running wild.”

“It wasn’t always like this. Things got worse when those Dalton Knights showed up.”

For an innkeeper of such a well-maintained place, the young woman was clearly too young—but now that she was seated, she began to speak.