Ch.232Head of All Trading Companies, Dieta (6)

After the duel ended, the reception room was bustling with visitors looking for Najin. The line extended not only through the corridor but also outside the building, as nobles and connoisseurs who had watched the duel, as well as knights, had come to see him.

“It was truly a magnificent duel!”

Najin engaged in brief conversations with them. At first, most visitors were nobles, but as time went on, knights became more numerous. Knights who were at least in their thirties or forties shook hands with Najin, their eyes shining like children’s.

Perhaps this was only natural.

For knights, becoming a “free knight” was a goal they had dreamed of at least once. When someone you admired as a child appears before you, anyone would revert to childlike wonder. As they shook hands with Najin, the knights recalled a certain maxim.

‘A free knight is one who makes knights truly knightly.’

The knights who witnessed today’s duel truly understood the meaning of that phrase. It was a duel that made viewers’ hearts burn with passion, a duel that reminded them of their initial aspirations.

“I am Baltar, Commander of the Orleans Knights.”

Najin looked at the knight requesting a handshake.

Commander Baltar of Orleans.

He was a knight Najin knew well. A knight who had accomplished great feats over the past decades while operating at the border between the continent and the Outer Continent. He was a little over 100 years old this year? Najin shook hands with Baltar.

“It was a duel that made my heart burn. I couldn’t stop admiring it throughout. ‘Insults are cleansed through duels, that is what makes a knight’—I sincerely agree with Sir Najin’s words.”

Baltar nodded emphatically.

He truly looked satisfied.

“Especially that final strike you showed… as a swordsman before being a knight, I respect you. How can you wield such a heavy sword at such a young age? If it’s not impertinent, may I ask?”

“Of course.”

The “weight” Baltar spoke of surely didn’t refer to the physical power of the sword strike. He must be talking about the years, beliefs, and imagery contained in the sword. Najin nodded.

“It’s a sword I learned from a knight who wandered the Outer Continent for 150 years. It’s my sword and at the same time, it’s his.”

“Ah, I see. If that noble person could see the current Sir Najin, they would be truly delighted. It was an excellent sword.”

Stroking his beard, Baltar said.

“In these days when the weight of the name ‘knight’ grows lighter by the day, it’s truly fortunate to have a knight like Sir Najin. Young knights will surely learn something from watching you. They say a free knight is one who makes knights truly knightly, but I also think of them as lighthouses.”

“Lighthouses, you say?”

“Yes. What is a lighthouse? It’s a blessed existence that illuminates the path in darkness where one cannot see even a step ahead, showing where to go. You are like a lighthouse for knights.”

Lighthouse—the image of Eurypylus, the Lighthouse Keeper, briefly flashed in Najin’s mind, but he soon smiled.

“To think that at over 100 years old and approaching death, I would witness such a heart-pounding duel. I’m grateful to feel my old heart beating so strongly.”

Baltar referred to himself as an “old body.”

Of course, outwardly he appeared to be only a middle-aged man in his thirties or forties, but the aging he spoke of wasn’t about his physical body. He was talking about his spirit, and the wear that had begun to gradually appear.

“What do you mean by that?”

Though he understood the meaning, Najin tilted his head.

“How can Sir Baltar call himself old? Aren’t you still vigorous?”

“Ho ho! I appreciate your words, but I am quite old. Believe it or not, I’m 113 this year. I feel the wear setting in, and I think I’ll soon have to depart for the Outer Continent.”

“You’re being too modest. Didn’t you vanquish a top-grade Demon just five years ago?”

“Hmm?”

Baltar blinked.

As if he hadn’t expected that story to come up.

“You know about the Steel Demon subjugation?”

“How could I not? The subjugation of the Steel Demon Shurason. Wasn’t it an operation you led, with six knightly orders joining forces?”

Najin explained the Shurason subjugation in detail. He mentioned how they utilized the terrain, how they used soil to bind the Demon’s powers before vanquishing it, and smiled as he spoke of Baltar’s tactics.

These weren’t mere flattering words or adulation.

Having admired knights, Najin had researched the exploits of numerous knights after leaving the underground city, and Baltar’s stories were among them. Until just a few years ago, Najin had dreamed of becoming a knight while reading Baltar’s stories, so the words he now spoke were filled with sincerity.

“And not just the Shurason subjugation. The hunt for the Demon contractor Gehel, the defense of the trading city Osirim, the annihilation of the black mage heretics…”

Baltar’s eyes widened. With each operation Najin mentioned, the corners of Baltar’s mouth twitched. As if he couldn’t contain his joy.

What knight wouldn’t be pleased when a free knight—a knight among knights—acknowledged them?

“Wear is not evidence of aging. It’s a signal to embark on a new adventure. So you’re not dying, but rather preparing for a new adventure, aren’t you?”

“Hahaha!”

Baltar finally burst into laughter.

For Baltar, who rarely laughed and was known as a solemn knight, to laugh so heartily while abandoning his dignity was extremely rare, if not unprecedented. Yet now, Baltar slapped his knee and laughed loudly.

“You make even this old man feel like a knight again. Yes, you’re right. There must be people in the Outer Continent who have lived as knights for hundreds of years, so how can I call myself old at just over 100? I was mistaken.”

He saluted Najin. Deeper than when they first met, and with perfect form.

“If we ever meet in the Outer Continent, I hope to have the honor of fighting alongside you.”

“You’re welcome anytime.”

After shaking hands, Baltar departed.

Several other knights came and went after Baltar. After a long time, the lengthy line finally ended, and Najin rose from his seat. Just as Najin stepped outside the building.

“Do you have a moment?”

Griffin was standing outside the building.

Looking at him, Najin smiled.

“I was wondering when you would come.”

2.

“I am Griffin.”

That’s how he began.

In response to Griffin’s words, Najin didn’t say anything mundane like “I know.” Griffin, who always introduced himself as “Griffin, Commander of the Knights of Albania,” now introduced himself simply as “Griffin.”

It meant he had come to talk not as a knight of Albania, but simply as Griffin.

“May I ask you a question?”

“By all means.”

“I would like to ask what Sir Najin, as a free knight, thinks a knight is.”

What is a knight? In the past, Najin would have answered this question immediately, but not now. To this question, Najin responded with a question.

“What does Sir Griffin think a knight is?”

“…I.”

Griffin exhaled briefly.

“I think a knight is a sword loyal to his master. A sword that doesn’t question his master’s decisions, doesn’t doubt, doesn’t dare to judge, but simply follows orders.”

That’s not what a knight thinks a knight is.

That’s what a noble thinks a knight is.

Griffin knows this fact as well.

“I don’t think this is entirely right. But that’s how I was taught and how I’ve lived. For over 80 years now.”

From becoming a squire at 14 until now at 96.

That’s how Griffin has lived.

“I’ve seen the previous lords of Albania, and the lords before them. They were excellent people. I swore loyalty to them. That I would protect Albania and repay the kindness of those who took in someone who was nothing.”

“I see.”

“Yes. Regardless of right or wrong, I simply decided to live that way.”

He looked up at the sky.

“I know that the Duchy of Albania is facing collapse. I know it won’t last long, and that I can’t do anything about the impending catastrophe.”

Nevertheless, he said.

“I will remain a knight of Albania until the end.”

He follows his master’s will. He doesn’t doubt or judge. Naturally, he doesn’t resent or curse his master either. He simply stays until the end. That decision remains unchanged.

But.

But, he said.

“Then suddenly I had a thought.”

He looked at Najin.

“That I might have already strayed far from being a knight.”

Griffin smiled bitterly.

“At some point, I became more of a sword than a knight. A sword that swings where the master points. Of course, I don’t think that’s bad, and I think such beings are necessary. But now… after living that way for 80 years, I feel regret.”

“What do you regret?”

“That I couldn’t become more than a sword.”

Looking at the street bathed in sunset, Griffin reminisced. Najin couldn’t know what he was reminiscing about or which past he was recalling. Najin only added one thing.

“It’s not too late.”

“It’s not too late, but I’ve come too far.”

“Is that so?”

“It is. It’s too late to try something new now. All I can do now is protect until the end. I intend to be faithful to that role.”

But…

Muttering that, he looked a bit further away. Beyond the horizon, a little further than where the sun was setting.

“If I receive punishment, fulfill my responsibilities, fulfill my given role, and become free from everything…”

He pointed to the horizon.

“I want to go there.”

He was pointing to the Outer Continent.

Griffin’s eyes, as he gazed at the Outer Continent, were shining a little. Despite years of dust and impurities making them dirty, there was still a gem that could shine.

“You don’t need my answer.”

“Don’t need it?”

“You already know the answer, Sir. You just haven’t acted on it.”

Najin, walking past Griffin, looked back. Then, tapping the hilt of his sword, he said.

“Knight, Griffin.”

The free knight looked at the aged knight.

“I’ll be waiting.”

At Najin’s words, Griffin’s eyes widened, and then he smiled bitterly. He saluted Najin. There was nothing more he could say to Najin now.

But, the next time they meet.

Then, he would have something to say.

3.

“About three months left.”

“What do you mean?”

“Until I become a duchess.”

Najin blinked.

“A duchess?”

“It’s complicated to explain, but to summarize, it’s simple.”

Dieta brushed back her hair and smiled.

“I did what I do best. I made a proposal to the Duke, and all the circumstances and context made it impossible for the Duke to refuse that proposal.”

She tapped the table.

On the table lay a contract.

“Najin, do you know the virtue of a merchant?”

“Selling goods at the highest price?”

“That’s also a virtue of a merchant. But a merchant isn’t just someone who sells things, right?”

A merchant is someone who buys and sells goods.

“Buy expensive goods cheaply, and sell them at the highest price. That’s the basics of being a merchant.”

Just as Najin had demonstrated the basics of swordsmanship in the dueling arena, Dieta was simply demonstrating the most fundamental principle.

“I found a good property on sale at a cheap price. So I quickly bought it. Because I think the price will rise enormously later.”

She handed Najin a business card.

“It’s been a while since I introduced myself with this name.”

The card didn’t just have the name “Dieta” written on it.

“Dieta Albania.”

The family name she had erased with her own hands.

But Dieta had now inscribed that family name again with her own hands. In a slightly different way than before.

“I’m the next head of the Duchy of Albania.”

Dieta Company had loaned a massive amount of gold coins to the Duchy of Albania. And as collateral for the loan, they didn’t demand anything significant. They only requested that Dieta, the head of the company, have the right to enter the succession battle.

All circumstances made it impossible for the Duke to refuse that proposal.

The fangs of the Snake that Swallows the Gold Coins were at the Duke’s neck.