Ch.195EP.45 – The Knight Get Autumn Blues (1)

After the long summer ended, it was the time when maple leaves were beautifully changing colors.

Autumn, the pride of the south, had arrived.

One might wonder how a season could be a source of pride, but this was because autumn was one of the particularly long seasons in Pendragon. While winter lasted only about two weeks to a month at most, autumn could continue for three to four months or even longer.

There were theories that the northern territories ruled by Lionel took winter away, but nothing had been scientifically proven.

In any case, Pendragon’s autumn was exceptionally long, and there were numerous places where the entire streetscape was breathtakingly beautiful. With clear, pristine skies and red maple trees everywhere, even the lakes and rivers well-maintained—how could this not be magnificent?

It was also the time when maple syrup became cheaper and most delicious, so desserts and foods using maple syrup became much more common.

As a side note, in the south, each household had different methods of making, aging, and storing maple syrup, so one could taste unique sweetness at any shop. This caused a surge in people who enjoyed sweet flavors, and it wasn’t uncommon to see people rapidly gaining weight.

It truly seemed fitting to call it the season of “autumn skies and fat horses.”

Well, this was only possible because the south was currently peaceful—

“Delicious, these pancakes. Oh, wait? It’s not the pancakes but the maple syrup that’s amazing! What is this subtle sweetness…?”

He burst into admiration while eating at the restaurant, as if possessed by a gourmet critic. He had ordered without much thought, but it was beyond his expectations.

Crispy bacon, three sunny-side-up eggs cooked over-easy, two juicy sausages, and a stack of five pancakes with nuts and maple syrup generously sprinkled between each layer. The simple coffee was average in taste but had a nice aroma, and it effectively neutralized the sweetness of the maple syrup, making it a great combination.

It was nothing short of a lumberjack breakfast (American-style breakfast), and he was thoroughly satisfied. Just as unexpectedly delicious food makes one feel lucky, he felt today might be his lucky day.

“Excuse me! Three more plates of the special pancakes! And triple the maple syrup!”

“B-but you’ve already had over ten servings?”

“I’m still a bit hungry.”

“…Wait a moment. I’ll prepare a special menu for you!”

“What? That’s not necessary.”

“This is a matter of pride! Our restaurant has never sent a customer away hungry! Don’t worry about the cost—it’s on the house!”

“?”

Ihan thought it was just that his appetite was more voracious than the average person’s, but he wondered if it was really a matter of pride. Still, he decided not to say anything.

Free food was always welcome.

‘Meatballs. And they’re bigger than a fist.’

The aroma of juicy meatballs wafted from the kitchen hearth. If they served it with spaghetti in tomato sauce, it would certainly be worthy of being called a special menu.

“Nice.”

“…Aren’t you eating too much so early in the morning?”

“The restaurants in the Academy are all cheap and delicious, right? Once I start eating, I just can’t stop.”

“…But do you normally eat more than 10 servings?”

“I’m at an age where I’m constantly hungry.”

“Hmm….”

…Derrick swallowed hard at his confident statement.

* * *

Derrick, who had entered the restaurant that also served as an inn, ordered just a simple coffee instead of food, saying that just watching Ihan eat made him feel bloated.

In contrast, Ihan enjoyed the meatball spaghetti so much that he ordered five more plates before finally stopping.

“Are you satisfied?”

“I ate a moderate amount. Overeating is bad.”

“I-I just learned something new—that eating what would be 20 servings for a normal person is considered ‘moderate’…”

“We have different fuel efficiency, you know. On the other hand, why do you eat so little?”

“Hmm, I think it’s just a habit.”

Derrick looked alternately at his own skinny body and Ihan’s, giving a bitter smile, as if to say it wasn’t fair to compare with that body.

Still, he was certainly thin for a swordsmanship student. Though he could display strong combat power thanks to his skills, in daily life he seemed like he might lose in strength even to a housewife.

“You should eat more. I’ll make a diet plan for you.”

“…Haha.”

At this comment that wasn’t quite a scolding, Derrick awkwardly laughed, trying to forcibly smooth over the situation.

Ihan didn’t insist that he build his body forcibly. After all, he was strong despite his appearance. Skills and status windows were truly exceptional.

Before unnecessary envy could twist his gut, Ihan spoke first.

“So, did you find out what I asked you to?”

“Yes, more or less.”

Derrick nodded but wore a bitter expression.

Though it was his own investigation, he seemed quite uncomfortable with it.

“Well, it seems these people are trying to pull a ‘grand national scam’?”

“?”

“I mean, they’re trying to fake an oracle.”

“What kind of oracle?”

“…A ‘divine oracle.'”

“…”

“You heard me correctly. So please believe it.”

“…Damn.”

Ihan remained silent for a moment.

Then.

“Excuse me! Another special five-layer pancake! And triple the maple syrup!”

He placed an additional order, as if suddenly craving something extremely sweet.

…What Ihan had asked Derrick was simple.

He wanted to know ‘what was happening at the temple right now.’

At this request, Derrick nodded without hesitation.

This was an unusually quick acceptance for Derrick, who wasn’t typically so readily agreeable.

– I’m curious about it too.

Derrick wanted to know exactly what the temple was up to, so he spent about a week infiltrating the temple to figure out what was happening.

For the world’s only game character armed with thief skills, infiltrating the temple was a simple task.

Ihan was confident that he would bring back something valuable, and sure enough.

“-So you’re saying that ‘to regain the temple’s old authority lost due to the War God, they’re issuing a false oracle declaring that the temple will directly search for a saint’?”

“You’ve summarized it perfectly.”

He had brought back incredible information.

“…Is that for real?”

Ihan asked repeatedly.

He couldn’t help but ask again and again.

It was that hard to believe.

“I doubted it hundreds of times myself, but…it’s true.”

“What the…”

To explain in more detail, it went like this:

During the era when the War God reigned as king, the temple couldn’t assert itself and had to bow deeply to the royal family, choosing submission.

The Pope at that time, who had established some heretical crusade called the [Blood Cross Army] that threatened the kingdom, even knelt before the War God and crawled to the throne where the War God sat, begging for forgiveness.

Please spare me, please forgive me, please show mercy…

Literally pleading and begging, and in this process, the temple had to surrender more than 80% of its influence in the south to the royal family, or rather, to the War God.

The Pope was even demoted to the name of ‘Church King,’ and the authority held by the Pope, who had been the representative of the Light of Radiance, was drastically reduced at this time, making him little more than a figurehead.

This happened about 40 years ago, and it was nothing short of a humiliation and downfall for the temple.

40 years. It might seem infinitely short to some, but 40 years was an enormously long time.

To use celebrities as an example, even the most popular celebrities are forgotten in people’s memories if they’re inactive for just a year. The temple, which had been controlled for 40 years, had lost countless authorities and advantages… if converted to property, its value would be incalculable.

It was only because the era still needed religion that they survived; if it had been any other noble family instead of the temple, they would have disappeared long ago.

…Even so, it must have been a time of bitter tears for the temple.

If it weren’t for the War God, they would still be reigning above the nobility.

And…

“Finally, that War God disappeared.”

“That’s right, it’s been 17 years already…”

17 years since the War God passed away.

As they say, old habits die hard—these persistent people were finally preparing a [grand national scam] to stretch their wings again.

“So they’re going to create a plausible ‘puppet’ to solidify the temple’s power.”

“I also saw the list of puppet candidates, and they were all noble ladies or descendants with royal blood.”

“Is it a love call to the great nobles?”

“Something like that.”

Even for a puppet (saint), they couldn’t just choose anyone.

The temple, needing a plausible puppet, apparently required a good bloodline.

“…Are they obsessed with power?”

“Or maybe they think this country was originally theirs?”

“…”

“It’s been 40 years. For 40 years, they’ve been sharpening the knife of revenge. So they’ll do anything to regain the power they think was ‘originally theirs.’ That’s probably why they targeted Lady Irene too.”

“…Why her?”

“If they make Lady Irene a saint, the temple would gain Galahad as a powerful ally.”

“Do they know the Duke is the War God’s son?”

“There’s a saying in politics: There are no eternal allies, nor eternal enemies. Politics is about joining hands or betraying according to situations and desires.”

“Hmm.”

Ihan nodded.

It was a convincing argument.

However, he gave a slightly bitter look, wondering:

‘Why is this guy so angry today?’

Ihan thought it strange that this usually timid person was speaking quickly and coldly today without his voice trembling even once, and he felt like he was looking at a bomb that could explode at any moment.

So.

“Why are you so heated?”

“…”

“Did something happen?”

Ihan asked directly.

What made you so angry?

At this question.

Crunch!

Derrick gritted his teeth.

Whether Ihan’s question was the trigger, he finally revealed his true feelings.

“…Lady Karin was among the puppet candidates.”

“…”

“It seems they’re planning to kidnap her, or maybe blackmail her…”

“Oh my.”

Ihan let out a groan.

It seemed the temple had precisely touched the reverse scale of this timid status window.

‘Quiet kids are terrifyingly scary when they snap…’

He had felt this in the military too—you shouldn’t push gentle or weak people too far just because they seem easy targets.

Why?

‘…You might get shot.’

Knowing very well that quiet people can become extreme when they snap, Ihan clicked his tongue.

…If things went wrong, a rain of fire might pour down on the temple.

-Ding.

While the table was filled with a serious atmosphere, fortunately, they had a chance to change the mood as a familiar face appeared.

“Master?”

“…Huh?”

“Did you come to eat too, Master? …Oh, you’ve already eaten a lot.”

“Why are you here?”

“Well, this is my regular spot, it’s cheap and delicious, you know?”

“…A marquis’s daughter…”

“Hehe, habits are hard to break, right?”

The woman approached with a shy smile, beaming brightly.

Just her approach seemed to bring a fragrant floral scent, brightening the atmosphere considerably.

Originally, she had a more melancholic demeanor than the sword-wielding man before them, but since the curse-like affliction disappeared, she had gradually developed a smile that seemed to spread happiness like a virus.

Perhaps feeling satisfied after discussing such gloomy topics and now seeing her?

Ihan brightened his expression, feeling like he could breathe easier now.

“If you came to eat, I’ll treat you. Sit here.”

“Oh, that would be too much…”

“I don’t mind. If you want to eat alone, you can sit by yourself.”

“-No, I’ll definitely sit here.”

“R-really?”

She resolutely sat right next to him, and Ihan scratched his cheek.

Thinking she was a bit too close.

‘Hmm? Come to think of it…’

Ihan paused mid-scratch as a question occurred to him.

Namely:

‘Wasn’t she supposed to be a saint in the original story?’

…An ‘unofficial saint’ not recognized by the temple?

Levi.

The woman who would have been called the Mercenary Queen and Battlefield Saint if Ihan hadn’t intervened.

‘…Well, that’s a future that won’t happen now.’

Ihan decided to let it go.

He was worrying unnecessarily…

“Oh, right! There’s something I wanted to tell you first when I saw you, Master. I finally got a new name.”

“What?”

“Jeanne d’Arc, [Levi Jeanne d’Arc]. That’s my new name, Master!”

“──Why?”

…Ihan reflexively objected as if finding fault.

“Pardon?”

“Ah, no, why specifically…”

A name that sounds like she’ll burn in flames…?

…Ihan couldn’t bring himself to say such a harsh thing out loud.