Chapter 112: Toying
The lord’s words received no response from George.
It was his first time coming into contact with a true noble lord.
He did not know whether the other party spoke truth or falsehood, so they chose to remain silent.
“Knight George—no, I suppose you’d prefer I address you as Warrior George,” said the lord.
“You may call me Belair, Belair Burke.”
“I have no wish to be a lord,” Belair said, his face full of sincerity.
“I believe that becoming a lord and playing their games of power holds no meaning.”
“I wish to go to the Church of the Sanctuary. I’ve heard rumors from the Rat Path—there, they say, is someone suspected to be a noble descendant.”
“Well, let me be direct. They analyzed that the person is very likely a descendant of the lord of the York Territory.”
“He is doing lowly construction work there, ignoring all power struggles. In the church, he is freely pursuing himself, and he is revered by those commoners.”
“I envy him greatly. I think he is the same as me, believing that the game of power holds no meaning—only what we pursue ourselves, is what truly matters.”
“Whether for ourselves, or for all humanity.”
“I envy him. His father understood him. Even though he is the only legitimate son, his father was willing to let him do what he wished.”
“Although I think, once his father is gone, he will still return to inherit the lordship. But at the very least, right now, he is free.”
“I truly envy him as he is now. And so, I wish to become as he is now.”
“Of course, those from the Rat Path gave me his architectural designs—so ugly. I believe he does not understand what beauty is, so on this point, I must ridicule him thoroughly.”
Belair gripped George’s arm, his voice lowering again.
“I can guess what it is you want to do here.”
“You wish to eliminate these Werewolves and protect the commoners.”
“But this is the Lord's Judgment Ritual.”
“No, no, no—it may be even more terrifying than a simple Judgment.”
“This place has already become the Wolf’s Den.”
“You are powerful. Extremely powerful. Even an Upper Werewolf could be slapped to death by you with ease.”
“But your strength alone cannot protect all the people in this land.”
“And I can help you,” Belair said.
“I am the lord here. I hold dominion over this place. I can command those in my territory to act according to my will.”
“Even if my father took away a group of people, even if these Werewolves killed another portion, my territory still has over four thousand people.”
“Among them, with training, we can organize an army.”
“Moreover, I can, on a legal level, initiate war to invade other territories. Once victorious, my domain will expand, and I can organize even more troops.”
“The Marquis is currently not within the territory. They will only issue condemnation for my actions.”
“But in the face of this Wolf Catastrophe, only with more armies, only with humans under the lord’s command, can we drive them out.”
“Only then, can this entire Marquis Demitri’s Territory return to normal.”
George quietly freed his arm from Belair’s grip and looked at him.
“I once trusted someone, but in the end, she burned down the small church where I was stationed,” he said.
“Although becoming a Temple Warrior can also spread the Lord’s Teachings, for me personally, I had hoped to become a Priest from a Monk.”
“And after that fire, I lost the opportunity to become a Priest.”
“Of course, I also understand, this may have been the most suitable arrangement for me.”
George knew in his heart that what Belair said was true, but his gaze toward Belair remained calm.
“Well then, Warrior George, you may consider this a transaction,” Belair said, unfazed by the distrust George revealed.
George’s words proved that his heart had been moved.
“You protect me, and I will help you achieve what you want to do,” he said.
“When you believe I’ve done enough, I’ll need you to take me away from here, to the York Territory.”
"Of course, I know wealth holds little meaning to a lord, but for commoners, it is extremely important."
"So when I leave, I will take with me all the remaining wealth of the Burke Family. It is an enormous fortune—at least, not something I can move alone."
"That’s why there will always be trouble along the way, so I need a knight to protect me."
"Moreover, the Burke Family is a barony under Marquis Demitri, so gaining the Marquis’ recognition is another issue."
"Of course, the Marquis took away my father and two older brothers. I think they won’t care about me, or rather, after the Judgment is over, they won’t care where I am, nor will they acknowledge my noble title."
"And for a noble to enter another noble’s territory and settle down, unless the other party is that noble’s direct lord, no noble would willingly allow another into their own domain."
"That’s why I still need the power of the Church to help persuade the lord of the York Territory to allow me to live there."
"I don’t care about the land, or about the noble title. These are what my father wished to preserve. But now, he has abandoned me and this place."
"I don’t hate him. I understand he did this for the continuation of the family. However, for me, I only wish to freely pursue my own value—not to play games with these boring fellows."
"And in this transaction, I will first help you. Whether the price I pay is enough for power, I leave that to you to decide.”
"This is the sincerity I offer you."
Belair said.
George appeared somewhat confused. He closed his eyes, praying for the Lord’s guidance.
Yet he received no answer.
Just like the Bishop had said—this was his trial.
So now, he should follow the feeling in his own heart.
George opened his eyes.
"At the right time, I will present your appeal to the Bishop. Whether the transaction stands will be decided by the Bishop."
Since he himself was not suited to make decisions, then he would pass that authority to someone who was.
Belair smiled.
"Then, our transaction is established," he said.
"And as the first gesture of my sincerity to you, I will confer upon you the title of Knight."
"Don’t be so quick to refuse." Belair cut off George just as he was about to decline.
"In the beginning, a Knight was simply a noble lord’s recognition of a powerful warrior—an honor bestowed due to the warrior’s strength."
"At that time, it was not necessary for a Knight to pledge loyalty in order to be conferred."
"It was just because nobles had that authority, and over time, loyalty and service to a liege became part of the process."
"But in truth, many nobles trade knightly titles among themselves."
"As long as the price is right."
Belair paused, beckoning a servant to come pour wine.
"So, this knightly title is merely my gesture of sincerity to you. It is what you deserve for saving me. It does not require your loyalty."
"And it will also let these fellows obey my commands, enabling me to quickly seize the power that rightfully belongs to me as a lord."
George hesitated, but in the end, he nodded in agreement.
Belair smiled, picked up the wine cup that the servant had filled, and stood up.
"Everyone!" he called out.
His voice echoed through the fortress, drawing everyone’s attention.
"Mr. George has agreed to accept the knighthood I confer upon him."
"Celebrate—for he will protect us in the name of a Knight."
Just those two short sentences, and the people in the hall erupted in cheer.
Belair tilted his head back, draining the wine into his throat, masking the mockery in his eyes.
George simply sat there, watching their celebration.
In the corner, an advisor scholar clutching a book fell into contemplation.
He had caught the omission in Belair’s words.