Ch.54EP.16 – The Knight Hates Tests (1)

*Swish, swish.*

“Yes! It’s clean!”

The pure-hearted maid with braided brown hair and an elegant maid outfit smiled refreshingly as she looked at the tidy house. She seemed to be in high spirits, perhaps from cleaning so thoroughly that everything squeaked and sparkled.

Though she was prone to falling and making various mistakes, this diligent maid was none other than Leira Winter.

…The problem was that she also had a talent for turning people’s stomachs by misunderstanding what they said.

However, insults and curses had no effect on Leira.

Having a brain like a flower garden meant she didn’t even realize when she was being insulted, and instead tended to interpret everything positively.

In some ways, her mental fortitude might be stronger than that of most mercenaries or knights.

“Miss.”

“Lady Irene is here!”

“J-just Irene is fine, I keep telling you.”

“Hehe, I prefer this. Wait a little bit, we’ll have lunch soon!”

“Ah, y-yes.”

Though it was a rare day off, Irene Windler had visited the knight’s cottage early in the morning.

But by now, the girl’s visits to the cottage had become almost routine.

They had become meal companions while Irene was learning royal etiquette, including curtsies, from Leira, and at some point, Irene Windler had grown accustomed to this arrangement.

‘Ah, this is comfortable…’

[Arina. Aren’t you being too shameless? Eating free meals morning and night without paying. I didn’t raise you like this.]

‘W-who raised who! And I’m not eating for free, I bring gifts sometimes. That’s enough, isn’t it?’

[Those gifts are all from the Duke, though.]

‘……’

[You shouldn’t package someone else’s gifts as your own.]

‘…What an evil ghost.’

Attacking with nothing but facts—truly wicked.

But regardless of Irene Windler’s conscience, neither Leira nor the cottage’s owner were the type to challenge her moral compass.

Besides, considering that the gifts she occasionally brought were all high-quality items typically found only in royal households, it was actually beneficial for them to serve her a few meals in exchange.

Well, neither of them was the type to care about such benefits anyway.

“Come to think of it, where is the instructor…”

Bang!

“Ah, there he is.”

Just as she was about to look for him, she immediately sensed his presence.

The explosive sound coming from the backyard.

Click.

Irene went out through the back door and, as always, saw the knight training diligently.

BANG!!

“…He’s practicing something interesting again today.”

[That’s not telekinesis, is it?]

“It’s amazing. Could that be what they call the Hundred-Step Divine Fist?”

[I’ve always thought this, but the technique names are quite peculiar.]

“I mean, um, it seems like something similar to Chinese characters…?”

Though she was a possessed girl, this former college entrance exam-focused high school senior who had never read martial arts novels, let alone watched common cartoons or movies, could only marvel at his techniques.

Completely unaware that a “fellow countryman” was right in front of her.

* * *

Wooden logs were set up like dominoes.

Each log was placed about 20cm apart, with about thirty logs in total, and Ihan was…

“Number 7.”

Bang!

“Number 11.”

Pang!

“Number 9.”

Crack!

“…Got it.”

Ihan smiled happily.

After continuous attempts from 7 AM to noon, he had finally succeeded “once.”

But for Ihan, this one success was all that mattered.

Geoksan-tau (隔山打牛).

A technique that strikes opponents regardless of distance or spatial constraints—the principle behind the Hundred-Step Divine Fist that Ihan had demonstrated the day before.

However, he was now working to apply this principle of Geoksan-tau with a sword rather than fist power.

And today.

He had finally succeeded in imbuing sword energy rather than fist energy into the Geoksan-tau technique.

The evidence was the sword mark on the ninth log.

While the other logs merely felt like they had been struck, the ninth one clearly felt as if it had been cut by a blade.

The sharpness of the sword had been transmitted.

And simply recalling this sensation was tremendously empowering for Ihan.

‘The important thing is that I succeeded.’

This was generally how Ihan learned techniques.

He would just keep trying until he succeeded.

Without a set deadline, countless attempts each day.

Of course, his success rate was still less than 10%, but the techniques he had mastered through this process had made him who he was today.

So Ihan was genuinely happy.

The joy of being able to execute a technique that had only been possible in his imagination.

‘My next goal is the Cloud Dragon’s Eight Forms.’

He thought that if he could change direction eight times in mid-air, perhaps even Baltar wouldn’t be able to handle him.

Just then.

Thud.

“Practicing another bizarre technique, I see.”

“You’re here?”

Having sensed the presence for some time, Ihan wasn’t startled by the sudden appearance of a third party.

After all, it was a familiar face.

And he said:

“Have you eaten lunch? I baked some pies.”

“Oh.”

It was Jake Farman.

Ihan’s only colleague and acquaintance in the Order of Knights.

* * *

Crunch!

The apple pie, emitting a savory and sweet aroma, crunches in his mouth.

A perfectly balanced, uniformly crispy texture.

Excellent.

Plus, the crunchy texture of the apple filling is surprisingly good.

The filling doesn’t taste like mere jam but has an amazingly fresh flavor, with the subtle aroma of cinnamon and ginger adding the perfect finishing touch.

This was a work of art, deserving automatic praise for its excellence.

Despite having finished the meal prepared by Leira, Ihan had already devoured five meat pies and seven apple pies, yet continued eating more pies as if still hungry, all while lavishing praise.

“You should just quit your job and open a pie shop. Your talent is being wasted.”

“Is that something to say to a knight?”

“Well, you could at least be bad at it. Why is a nobleman so good at cooking?”

“Because I’m from a fallen noble family.”

“If falling from nobility made everyone good at cooking, they’d all be chefs.”

“…I got better at it because I wanted to feed my siblings delicious food.”

“…That’s one hell of a backstory.”

Ihan shook his head in disbelief.

Meat pies and apple pies.

These two ideal pies were remarkably made by the knight before him.

Being from a fallen noble family, he had grown up without servants and had to cook for himself.

Perhaps that’s why Jake Farman’s cooking skills were excellent.

It was a taste hard to find even in decent restaurants, and according to Ihan, whose taste buds were unintentionally refined, these were among the best pies he’d ever had.

For reference, he had also tasted meat and apple pies made by royal chefs.

In other words, this guy made better pies than royal chefs.

A tragic aptitude(?) buried by his knightly talents?

What a shame.

“You shouldn’t be a knight; you should have opened a restaurant. You might have already built something as big as a major trading company by now.”

“Stop talking nonsense. Business isn’t easy. And how could a mere restaurant grow to the scale of a trading company? That’s absurd.”

“Well, it might be possible.”

If he introduced the concept of [franchising], it would definitely succeed, but is that still an unfamiliar concept in this world?

Ihan considered explaining it for the sake of his relatively human friend’s success, but knowing the man was dedicated solely to knighthood, he swallowed his words and continued eating the apple pie.

He quickly finished all 12 pies.

“So, what’s the reason you came all the way here with freshly baked pies?”

“…You’re only asking that now?”

“I’ve filled my stomach now.”

“You’re so shameless.”

“Next time, I’d like some quiche.”

“Maybe I should just stop talking…”

Jake clicked his tongue, thinking that his friend was indeed shameless.

Still, he couldn’t hide his pleased expression, seemingly happy that someone was enjoying his cooking so thoroughly.

Unknown to him, the satisfaction he got from cooking exceeded that from his knightly duties.

“Ahem, I came here for two reasons. One is about those illegal mages you captured.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play dumb. Two bodies have already been found. And the traces found there were undoubtedly yours. The commander is certain of it.”

“……”

Ihan’s brows furrowed.

‘So that’s how he crafted the story?’

The regressor must have deliberately placed the corpses of some of the vermin where the Order would find them, intending to give Ihan credit without revealing himself on stage.

Like offering him a reward.

However, this wasn’t the kind of recognition Ihan wanted.

He had no desire for fame in the first place.

And as if knowing this:

“Still, knowing your style, we’ve decided to keep quiet about the fact that you eliminated them. You don’t particularly want to draw attention to yourself. …And you shouldn’t become a target for illegal mages either.”

“You know me well.”

Indeed, having capable colleagues is beneficial.

They preemptively resolve troublesome issues to prevent headaches.

“But you’ll definitely receive a reward. If you want, you could even get a medal.”

“Skip the medal and give me money instead.”

“……”

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing, I just thought you haven’t changed a bit despite the passage of time.”

“People don’t change easily.”

“That’s true, I suppose.”

Jake nodded in agreement.

Sipping the tea Leira had brought, he said:

“You certainly haven’t changed. You’re going to donate that money again, aren’t you?”

“…What are you talking about?”

Ihan responded after a beat, shrugging his shoulders.

As if he didn’t understand what Jake meant.

But Jake knew.

That the money wouldn’t end up in Ihan’s pocket.

‘…He gives away all the money he gets from capturing mages or slave traders to the victims.’

Jake was one of the few people who knew the true nature of Ihan’s secret missions.

He knew about Ihan eliminating major slave traders and illegal mages using the Order’s intelligence network.

He had learned this by occasionally exchanging information while associating with him.

He also knew where the confiscated assets went.

‘Such an honest guy,’

He had distributed all the assets seized from slave traders and illegal mages to those who had been kidnapped or used as experimental subjects.

Claiming he didn’t want the money.

‘And that’s why you can’t build up achievements.’

By law, all assets confiscated from illegal mages or slave trading organizations should be returned to the state.

But Ihan had violated this rule.

He had distributed all the assets to the victims and their families.

‘Could I do the same in his position?’

The money extorted from them would be beyond imagination.

Or if he had reported it to the Order, he would have already received rapid promotions.

But he takes neither money nor credit.

Citing reasons like feeling uncomfortable or not needing recognition.

Instead, he just gives it all away to help the victims.

And from Jake’s perspective, that guy wasn’t really refusing wealth or recognition because he felt uncomfortable.

He was simply following his conscience, content with just having enough to live on.

The evidence was that he lived in a modest cottage.

Without any complaints.

Truly.

‘Someone who doesn’t care about chivalry…’

Is ‘genuinely’ practicing chivalry (騎士道).

Jake found it ironic and smiled slightly.

“I don’t think the commander will ever let you go.”

“Don’t say such terrible things.”

“Well…”

Even he wouldn’t want to let go of such an exemplary knight.

* * *

A briefly warm atmosphere lingered, but what use was warmth between two men?

Soon returning to their usual state, they continued their conversation.

“The next thing I want to tell you is that Grand Duke Lionel is still in the royal capital.”

“I heard about that, but he’s still in the capital?”

After the war game, Ihan had thought the Grand Duke had returned to the north since he couldn’t sense his presence, but was he still around?

“He probably has some unfinished business. Well, he’ll leave soon. The Grand Duke isn’t one to stay away from the north for long.”

“But why are you telling me this?”

“Because your disciple is a strong candidate to be the heir of the Grand Duke’s family. He might approach you.”

“Damn it.”

He really wanted to decline the attention of such high-ranking individuals.

But things never go as one wishes.

“If he’s going to approach you, it’ll be within this month. There won’t be a better time for the Grand Duke to make a move than now.”

“…A better time?”

What could that mean?

Ihan blinked, showing that he didn’t understand what Jake was talking about, while Jake looked incredulous.

With an expression that seemed to say, ‘How can you not know this?’

“…The semester evaluation is coming up.”

“……Oh.”

“I should just stop talking…”

Jake criticized the nominal instructor, while Ihan scratched the back of his head in embarrassment.

He had completely forgotten about it.

Since he had delegated all his instructor duties to his assistant.

‘Semester evaluation, was it already that time?’

The famous evaluation at the Royal Academy.

Why famous?

‘…I wonder how many will remain this time.’

Because it was the time when 60% of first-year cadets would be expelled.