His ears are ringing.
Something seemed wrong from the very first collision.
"No... Noir..."
Struggling to focus his blurred vision, Vlad slowly rose from his spot and walked towards Noir, who was lying some distance away.
Hehehehe-
The black horse rose laboriously from its place upon recognizing Vlad approaching.
Fortunately, even though his strength seemed to be diminished, nothing seemed to be broken.
"...Shit."
Vlad, holding on to Noir's reins, gritted his teeth as he looked at the scene in front of him.
On a bare stone bridge shrouded in clouds, moonlight descended.
Fragments of crumbling armor were now scattered chaotically.
Amidst the glinting shards illuminated by the moon, figures lying prone could be seen.
"You could've stayed down a bit longer."
And there stood a man on the bridge.
The unknown man, who had finally defeated the remaining knights, sensed Vlad's presence and turned around.
The man's white hair was shining brightly between the hood that Vlad had torn apart.
"I think we have a lot to ask each other."
Hearing the unknown man's words, Vlad once again raised his sword.
A stance taken to the extreme for just one thrust.
Seeing Vlad's posture, akin to an arrow about to be released, the man smiled as if expecting it.
"Yes, indeed. That."
Under the moonlight, the two men faced each other.
Each holding a different sword, yet seemingly the same.
※※※※
"You did well."
In the brightly lit office, rays of sunlight streamed through the windows, causing the potted plants placed around to stretch towards the light.
"It was a difficult task, and you handled it admirably. I truly appreciate it."
Vlad listened to the Count's words, his gaze lingering on the tea cup placed in front of him.
Tea brewed by the elves, emitting a clear green hue.
He had walked for over a week to obtain this single sip.
"I heard it was a tough battle. It's a shame we couldn't find the scoundrel's corpse."
Vlad raised his head to look at the Count.
A man with deeply etched wrinkles on his gaunt face.
Despite his body looking ten years older than his actual age, his shining eyes made him seem youthful.
"I was lucky."
"Haha! Luck must have been on your side."
With a relieved expression, the Count leaned back in his chair, resting his neck against the back.
"You have no idea. How much trouble I suffered because of that guy."
The Count closed his eyes with an expression of relief, as if a toothache had finally subsided.
Given that the city's main industry had been threatened by an unknown individual, Vlad could understand his distress.
However, Vlad's gaze towards the Count was cold.
"If I had failed, who would you have called upon?"
"Hm?"
The Count opened his eyes at Vlad's sudden question.
"He was exceedingly skilled. His abilities were beyond what your knights could handle, Lord Count."
Vlad spoke as he caressed the rim of his tea cup.
A tiny ripple formed on the surface of the clear cup.
"Saying I was lucky wasn't just a sign of humility."
A red hue began to spread from Vlad's tea cup.
Hidden within Vlad's fingers was one of the countless wounds obtained during the fierce battle.
It was an unexpected encounter, but the man he met on the battlefield possessed skills far more absurd than what the Count had described.
From the beginning, the Count's request had been deceiving Vlad.
"So that's why you didn't dispatch your knight commander."
The Count knew.
Even his exceptional Knight Commander would not stand a chance against the unidentified looter.
"······A person who is responsible for something always has to think about the future."
The Count answered and looked at Vlad sitting across from him.
A face covered in wounds, one eye swollen shut.
However, the reason he gives a strong impression rather than looking shabby is probably because of Vlad's unwavering blue eyes.
"I was requesting assistance from the Dragon Slayer Knight Order stationed in the capital."
Vlad's fingers, which had been caressing the teacup, paused at the Count's response.
"We couldn't push him back with our forces alone. His capabilities, as far as we've discerned, were formidable."
To secure the cooperation of the Dragon Slayer Knights in the capital, substantial evidence was needed.
Evidence such as the appearance of a dragon or the emergence of an overwhelmingly formidable enemy.
If Vlad had failed this time, that would have been another piece of evidence written in the Count's report.
A foe even this skilled Knight couldn't handle would serve as grounds to request the dispatch of the Dragon Slayer Knights.
"Still, I consider it fortunate that you resolved the matter. The services of the Dragon Slayer Knights don't come cheap."
With those words, the Count took out a leather pouch.
"I've put in more than what we agreed upon. Nevertheless, you safely brought the carriage back."
"..."
A hefty-looking pouch.
But Vlad's gaze, fixed on the pouch, remained deeply entrenched.
"I've already received an invitation from the elves, so I won't need your recommendation letter. The payment for that is included as well."
No matter how much money was in the pouch, it didn't matter. The gold coins inside couldn't replace the value of his life.
Last night, Vlad might as well have been dead on that stone bridge.
"I accept it gratefully. Lord Count."
Despite this, Vlad accepted the coins offered by the Count. He needed to know the exact amount contained within so he could demand more from the Count later. It was the price for being deceived.
"Isn't it a waste to rot away in the North?"
The Count's voice came from behind Vlad, who was gripping the handle of the office door.
"Isn't it better to work here than in the insignificant North? Of course, I'll pay you more."
Count Bitskaya, who wanted to employ him, spoke as if he were whispering into Vlad's ear like a snake.
"I heard you were banished from the city. Isn't it better to work under someone who recognizes you rather than under a lord who has abandoned you?"
Vlad slowly turned his head while listening to the Count treating him like an abandoned dog.
Before him was the Count, raising his teacup towards him.
"I want a master I can trust. Lord Count."
The blood of nobles is blue.
Vlad seemed to finally understand the meaning behind those words.
The man before him didn't see him as a person.
"Well, that's a shame."
Vlad left his office, leaving behind the count who shrugged his shoulders.
The steam still rising from Vlad's untouched teacup indicated that it had not diminished in the slightest.
※※※※
Vlad quietly walked towards the outskirts of the city after leaving the Count's mansion.
A place unfamiliar yet familiar.
Although not as grimy as the back alleys of Shoara, the alley Vlad walked through now was dirty and chaotic enough to evoke memories of the slums.
Vlad quickly hid his armor with his cloak and walked down the back alley with familiar movements.
Someone in the darkness chuckled as they watched Vlad transform from a poised knight into a disheveled rogue in an instant.
Thock-
Vlad stopped at the agreed upon place and soon felt small stones flying towards his boots.
"..."
No sight, no sound of movement. Just the sound of the wind.
Judging by the fact that not even the slightest sound of footsteps could be heard, the opponent seemed to have figured out from the previous duel that he had sensitive hearing.
Thock-
Thud-
Following the direction indicated by the pebble, Vlad ventured deeper into the slums of Tanoboya.
The darkest corners of the city.
While each city had its own atmosphere, the displaced people outside all seemed similar.
Those who lived in the shadows were all shades of gray.
"Still, you know how to keep a promise."
Passing through the gray figures, Vlad finally arrived at a dead-end alley.
Unpleasant metallic noises began to emanate from the darkness.
"I thought you'd run with your tail between your legs."
Slums, darkness, and an unpleasant voice.
These were all elements that could intimidate anyone, but Vlad casually replied, unfazed.
"No one was following me."
Empty threats held little sway over Vlad.
The familiar scent of the slums, just barely detectable, was coaxing out the rebellious spirit of the boy within the knight.
"So could you stop with the weird noises?"
"...Yes?"
An embarrassed cough came from the shadows at the end of the alley. It was a voice entirely different from the metallic noises heard earlier.
"This worked well on the bridge."
Finally emerging from the darkness, the mysterious figure wore a gray hood flipped backward, revealing his face—an unknown looter.
"We have something to discuss?"
"That's why I'm here."
The two people are similar, even with similar hand placements on their swords,
A knight with a scruffy face and a man with a gray hood sewn up in a mess were standing facing each other, looking at the scars left behind by each other.
※※※※
"Why haven't you asked for my name?"
"Because I figured you wouldn't tell me."
Vlad sat down at a street corner store, which was common in slums, and placed an order with familiar movements.
A thug with a ferocious spirit that matches his messy face.
The man in the gray hood laughed as he looked at Vlad, who had already assimilated into the darkness of the back alley.
"Can just anyone from the slums act like this?"
"Even if I asked, you wouldn't tell me."
"..."
As Vlad received his order, he took a nearby chair and sat down, skewering a kebab.
"Retired knights usually don't give their names."
"Actually, it's only the lowest ones who don't."
"Most of them are broke too."
"..."
Vlad couldn't help but see a glimpse of Larmund in the hooded figure before him—unusual skill, the wisdom that only comes with experience, and the reluctance to reveal oneself.
That day, inside the hood he removed was the image of a man with white hair, just like Larmund.
"Why was a retired knight out there robbing people?"
"...Retirement came quicker than expected."
The hooded man, now removing his hood as if it were the right time, looked at Vlad and chuckled.
"I still have unfinished business, you see."
Everyone dreams of an honorable retirement. However, those who can choose their own endings are exceedingly rare.
"You owe me your life, don't you?"
"More or less."
"What do you mean, 'more or less'?"
"If you had stuck around till the end, you wouldn't be asking."
Perhaps that's not entirely true.
The man currently tearing into skewers beside him had taken on five knights, ten mercenaries, and even the henchmen for dessert, all before pressing a blade to Vlad's neck.
To be honest, he was the most formidable opponent Vlad had faced yet.
"Cut the nonsense."
The retired knight snatched a skewer from Vlad's hand, taking a big bite.
"Anyway, there's a lot to ask and a lot to do, so you'll have to help me for a while."
"What do you mean, 'a lot to do'?"
In response to Vlad's question, the hooded man pulled out a small pouch from his pocket.
It contained elven tea leaves.
"Why do you have this?"
The pouch emitted a fragrant aroma of Tujon leaves.
Vlad still didn't know why the man before him had robbed the count's carriage.
"Do you think this looks like tea?"
Vlad looked at the man who was casually sipping his drink.
There was a sardonic smile on his face, directed at nobody in particular.
Retired knights who had laid down their hard-earned reputations and become the lowest of the low.
They embarked on pilgrimages akin to journeys, picking up the scattered remnants of their once-held honors from the ground.
"That's not tea."
And now, an unknown retired knight calmly drinks in front of Vlad.
"It's drugs."
He was a man who shed his honor among the shaking tea leaves.