Ch.217Report on the Collapse of Patience (10)

Kain smiled.

“Of course I’ll keep it secret. What perfect timing though. The Knight of Patience himself visits during construction.”

“He loves this parish. He’s quite remarkable. While other heroes, even Arius the Apostle of Temperance who is considered the model for all heroes, never set foot here, Knight Günther of Patience returned to the north shortly after the crusade ended. He’s been living here for nearly 9 years.”

“Is there a special reason? I only know that he stays in this area.”

To Maria’s question, Weisel slightly bowed his head as if showing reverence to the unseen Günther.

“Knight Günther said, ‘I just want to live quietly. Too much adoration makes a person arrogant. I dislike the bustle of city life, so I prefer to live comfortably in a secluded place.’

But he doesn’t really live quietly. He constantly travels around his parish to inspect it, and renowned scholars visit him at least once a week.

Humble, brave, excellent, and wise… a hero. People in this region whisper that if he had been from the main family line rather than a branch of nobility, he would have surely made his territory prosperous.

Such a person should be living in a house with high ceilings, commanding many people and doing great things… It’s unfortunate in many ways.”

* * * * *

Kain’s group mounted their horses again as they left Gariot. Their destination was a place called “Blue Fortress,” about half a day’s ride away.

The fortress was extremely old. Built by some forgotten kingdom during the era when emperors and kings fought each other, it was as old as the Empire itself.

People left, and the fortress was abandoned. It slept for a very long time, but when the northern pagans invaded, the old stones lifted their eyelids once more.

The name “Blue Fortress” was given for convenience. The crusaders were a hodgepodge of various units—imperial troops, knightly orders, noble private armies, volunteers in name only, and allied noble forces. Thus, headquarters traditionally classified them by flag colors.

Countless fortresses fell and were rebuilt, but the Blue Fortress stood firm. Its location was exceptionally advantageous. While not a final stronghold like the White Blood’s Valhalla, it played a significant role as a key point in forming the invasion defense line.

Though conflicts with the north and battles with the Demon King had ended, the Blue Fortress managed by the Holy Grail Knights of the Order and the Secundus Fortress managed by imperial troops continued their roles as vigilant watchers.

However, both sides maintained only a handful of troops. Relations with the north had progressed to the point of discussing limited trade, and the northeastern wasteland had nothing but wind, so there was no need to maintain large forces.

As a result, soldiers at both fortresses focused more on internal maintenance than on training and vigilance.

Of course, military life wasn’t easy. Armies are places where people live, and each has its own hardships; though different in nature, they’re similar in weight.

The problem with Secundus and Blue wasn’t that boots froze until toes went numb from cold, nor that careless soldiers could be seriously injured while working with stone and wood blocks as heavy as a person. The issue was with people—specifically, the commanding officers.

Young officers filled with passion and a sense of mission who volunteered for remote posts could be found anywhere, and they typically ruined their command not because of their soldiers’ shortcomings but because of their own impatience.

Experienced officers at headquarters sent them to the freezing north with the intention of “cooling them down.”

As a result, soldiers had to deal with officers who initially bounced around energetically as if they could warm the entire north by themselves, but later became even lazier than the soldiers.

The fact that Günther of Patience specifically requested such an undesirable post clearly showed how uninterested he was in power.

He refused the glamorous lifestyle that Arius of Temperance had inexplicably “disappeared” for in the east, and unlike William of Chastity, he didn’t gain popularity by warmly embracing subjects regardless of status.

Of course, there were cases like Arianne of Humility who quietly stayed in her hometown, Roberta of Kindness who volunteered to rehabilitate criminals in dangerous forests, Hans of Diligence who reformed his extravagant life to live diligently, and Leonardo of Charity who returned to his original work.

However, none of them chose “asceticism” like Günther of Patience. When others returned to their hometowns, he turned his back on his warm southern homeland in the Empire and headed for the cold north.

People say that even after becoming a priest, he fled because he was deeply wounded by his birth as a nobleman’s illegitimate child.

Others claim that in his youth, he enjoyed duels, bets, and gambling no less than rogue knights, and that his temperament was even rougher than Hans, who was a con artist, or Leonardo, who was a pirate.

It remains unknown how this ruffian bastard somehow entered the priesthood. In a book known for its excessive glorification of heroes, it states that he suddenly fell while riding a horse.

The light was so bright it blinded him and rendered him unconscious, and for seven days afterward, he couldn’t speak and had to convey his intentions in writing.

Even then, he only wrote, “I have heard.” After regaining his speech, for over a year he abstained from alcohol and meat, filling his stomach only with vegetables, steamed grains, and stream water. He went to a chapel, knelt down, asked for teachings, and entered the priesthood at a late age.

Though overshadowed by the splendor of other heroes, those who knew him—the imperial citizens of the north—spoke of him as a true hero, champion, and humble man. Literally, he was a hero who remained with the people.

Born unfortunate, lived extravagantly, accidentally received revelation, broke with his past to finally become a hero, but disappeared behind the glamour because he didn’t want to be entangled in his past again.

Only those who recognized and admired his true worth praised his lofty virtue and bravery, while he himself was rather embarrassed by such praise, yet generously taught poor villages how to brew delicious beer. This was Günther of Patience.

One scholar compared him to a paperweight. Paper tends to dry out on its own or fly away with the slightest breeze, but a paperweight heavily presses it down to keep it flat.

A steady man who simply holds his place, helping paper and brush fulfill their roles like a reliable pillar, yet never boasting about what he has done—a dependable friend.

The people Kain’s group met along the way said the same. They unanimously praised Günther. In rural villages that struggled to receive help even from the Empire and the Order, Günther was nothing short of a guardian.

When roads were suddenly cut off by falling rocks, well water froze, or roofs collapsed under heavy snow, Günther and his soldiers would appear, solve the problem, and vanish just as suddenly.

People would gather what little thanks they could from their meager lives to offer him, but Günther accepted everything only to redistribute it to poor neighbors.

And to the people, he would smile and say, “Believe. Follow the will of the Two-headed Eagle. He will open your path for you,” before returning home.

“He doesn’t have to live like that! But that’s how he is! Such a good and kind person!”

The reason the “custom of hospitality” remained in this region, one of the poorest in the Empire, seemed to be because of him.

These people wanted to give to visitors as they themselves had received. Since Günther had given them love, they too had to give love.

But a problem had arisen—recently, too many outsiders had been seen, they stubbornly refused the villagers’ hospitality and hurried on their way, and they looked unmistakably like soldiers.

“How do you know that?”

To Kain’s question, the man snorted. He was someone they had met on the road, returning home with a cart full of grain sacks.

“Why would a group of lumberjacks need spears, water pouches, and wooden boxes filled with metal pieces when all they need is a good axe? And above all, their arrowheads were different!”

“Different arrowheads? Aren’t all arrowheads the same?”

Kain asked with an intentionally naive face, and sure enough, the man puffed up with pride at being able to show off his knowledge.

“Listen here. In the forest, dangerous creatures like wolves and bears roam around. The best thing is to avoid them, and they usually don’t approach when people gather.

But sometimes fights are inevitable, and forest folk use broad-head arrowheads that are large and wide-spreading.

That way, when the arrow goes ‘thunk’ and embeds itself, it’s devilishly hard to remove, and every time the beast moves, the wound tears open with a ‘rip, rip,’ making it bleed buckets.

But those people’s arrowheads were slender like willow leaves—bodkin arrowheads. Those are meant for shooting at people, not beasts.

Use those on animals, and sure, they’ll penetrate well, but they won’t deliver a fatal wound. A skilled archer might use them to preserve good quality hide, but how many of those are there?”

“So that means…”

“It means a big fight is brewing somewhere. They wouldn’t bring those things just to clear snow or rocks, would they? So tell me, young man, we’re not going to war with the north again, are we?”

It wasn’t unreasonable for the villagers to worry. They were concerned about another war with the northern pagans.

People who expected their circumstances to improve if trade opened with the north were now seeing soldiers moving around with poorly concealed identities. It wasn’t a good sign.

“I haven’t heard anything like that. Perhaps they’re conducting winter training?”

“Ha. Why would they start doing that now after never doing it before?”

“Well, if someone living here doesn’t know, how would we?” Kain pointed northeast with a casual smile.

“Has something happened over there?”

“Come now. What are you saying?” The man raised his chin. “Of course, we hear such news. Strange events happening throughout the Empire. Rumors about monsters appearing, chaos breaking out, castles collapsing.

But with Günther of Patience as our neighbor, what’s there to worry about? Even if the Demon King were to rise again, one prayer would be enough to make him go ‘poof’ and be subdued. That’s what they say.”

* * * * *

Night fell. Snow flurries started again. With no other choice, Kain’s group spent the night at the house of the man they had just been arguing with.

It was a village with even fewer inhabitants than Gariot, and it too had many empty houses that had been used as garrisons. The man said it was a village where traders passing through the region occasionally stayed.

Fortunately, imperial currency was welcomed here too. Kain paid generously and was assigned a warm cabin. It was a very comfortable house with a fireplace stacked with firewood and four beds.

All three remained silent. They drank warm water boiled in a pot, put wood in the fireplace, and stared at the burning embers.

“Günther knew we were coming. That’s why he sent this invitation that doesn’t seem like an invitation.”

Kain muttered while staring at the burning fire.

“He stayed in the north even after the 5th Crusade ended. And when he took that sword wrapped in the scabbard that Laios carried around, all of this began.”

“At the same time, that dark fellow was also strutting about.”

Lily and Maria each added a comment.

“They’re gathering soldiers but haven’t disguised it properly. Of course, even Günther couldn’t have brought this many soldiers. This is…”

Kain looked at Maria. Maria nodded.

“Yes. It must be the will of His Holiness the Pope.”

“Has the Grand Marshal who supposedly came from the south arrived?”

To Kain’s question, Maria counted on her fingers one by one. Then she frowned.

“He must have arrived by now. We took the long way around, but they would have come directly. So…”

“So we’ll be walking right into the middle of the Holy Grail Knights and Mercy Knights’ deployment.”

Lily’s voice was tinged with concern. But Kain shook his head.

“They won’t be able to harm us. News that His Majesty’s envoy has arrived at Valhalla must have reached here too. Knowing that His Majesty is making a move, the knightly orders won’t act rashly.

For example, arbitrarily detaining us. If they really wanted to do that, they would have ambushed us on the road without anyone knowing. If they had shot us with arrows…”

“That would be difficult in such a windy and cold place, but it’s not impossible.”

“True. Many inquisitors have died that way.”

The three looked at each other for a moment, then burst into laughter as if it were absurd.

“You were all thinking the same thing, weren’t you?”

Maria laughed until tears came to her eyes. Lily waved her hand.

“I’m worried. Wouldn’t that be natural? Or is it because we’ve had such a difficult journey? We’ve been fighting everywhere we go, so now I’m suspicious from the start.”

“We have had a hard time.” Kain laughed as he wiped his bare face. But it was true that they were walking into a large trap. The other side had already completed their preparations, and Kain’s group would be caught in plain sight.

But there was still a way to turn things around. Kain still had well-refined asas. Günther liked alcohol, and when drunk, his sense of taste and smell would be dulled, so it wouldn’t be difficult to mix some in while sharing a toast.

Of course, it was just a contingency plan. If things went wrong, Lily and Maria should know nothing about it. Kain himself would take on the risk alone.

And there was absolutely no way it would be discovered.