Chapter 231: Goblin Cave
“Ronnie was just an ignorant ordinary man, how could he possibly know why nobles were nobles.” Earl Raul said, his gaze soft as he looked at Richard. “Richard Adrian, that should be your name. The noble blood of the Adrian family flows within you.”
“The old man told me before he left to keep an eye on you. He must have known that meddling in the Succession Battle this time would cost him his life, so he took those two cruel fellows with him, leaving only me, this weak child, at home.”
“He knew, once I learned of his arrangements, I wouldn’t kill you.”
Richard simply stood there, his eyes lowered, saying nothing.
At the side, Marl, who had been sitting, braced himself against the chair and stood up. Behind him stood two Temple Warriors acting as guards.
Marl’s hoarse voice said, “It seems you two have important matters to discuss, I’ll excuse myself.”
“No, please stay as a witness.” Earl Raul turned his gaze toward Marl, extending an invitation. “You are Richard’s friend. I believe you are worthy of trust.”
“……” Marl hesitated, glancing at Richard’s face, which had lost its smile, before sitting back down.
Earl Raul continued to look at Richard. “After the old man left, I read your files. From the day of your birth, every single thing you did was recorded. So I know, long ago, you noticed something was amiss about your lineage, didn’t you? That is only natural—because you are Richard, Richard Adrian.”
“I don’t have much time left. The old man already wrote down his thoughts, knowing one day he would suddenly die. You can read them later in the castle.”
“Of course, it doesn’t matter if you don’t. They’re just unrealistic ideas of his. All you need to know is this—you are Richard Adrian. The noble blood of the Adrian family flows in your veins.”
As he spoke, Earl Raul’s trembling hands pulled out a circlet from his robes. Holding it toward Richard, he said, “This is the symbol of Adrian. Of course, it’s merely a symbol for outsiders. The noble blood of the Adrian family does not need a circlet for proof.”
“However, my knights are all dead. Only I remain. In such circumstances, those greedy, foolish men will never accept a new Earl willingly. So, I wish to pass this to you. Wear this circlet, and you are the new Earl of the Adrian family. This will be your territory.”
“Of course, this only means recognition in bloodline and law. For true acceptance—you will have to prove yourself.”
Earl Raul’s frail hand clutched the circlet, trembling as he extended it toward Richard.
Richard opened his mouth slightly, hesitating.
His heart was in turmoil.
He had long known he was not the child of Knight Elbert, but had only ever suspected he might be the child of some other knight. Otherwise, why would Uncle Ronnie treat him better than his own children?
But later, no matter how hard he trained, his body remained so frail, which made him abandon that thought.
After all, the child of a knight could not possibly be this weak.
Later still, when he was suddenly conferred knighthood, he had been thrown into confusion once again. But by then, he had learned not to concern himself with irrelevant futures—only with the matters at hand.
Until just days ago, when he encountered the Dragon-Eagle Crulud and recovered his bloodline, he learned his father was that old Earl who had once conferred knighthood upon him.
His heart was in chaos. For a time, he didn’t know what to do.
He had stayed three days in the Misty Forest. Apart from adapting to his returned bloodline, he had been thinking about what he should define himself as.
Knight Richard, or Brother Richard of the Earl’s line.
Only when he saw the light in the heavens did he finally sweep aside all doubts, telling himself he was Knight Richard. Then he went with Crulud to hunt Fishmen.
Yet now, when he had intended to feign ignorance and pay respects to Earl Raul, the Earl directly exposed his identity and asked him to inherit the title of Earl.
This threw his freshly reaffirmed self-image as Knight Richard into disorder.
The books he read were of Knight Elbert, not Earl Elbert.
“I have no children. The old man’s children, the two, and their bastards, I killed them all. You are the Adrian family’s only heir.” Earl Raul said flatly, then passed the circlet toward Marl.
“Priest Marl, I have read the Holy Scriptures of the Lord. Of course, nowadays in the Three Principalities of Greenwood, there are hardly any lords ignorant of the Holy Scriptures. So I am willing to trust the Church. Now, as the current Earl of Adrian, I seek the Church’s protection.”
“In Adrian’s lands, apart from the Church of the Sanctuary, there shall be no other churches. Everyone must recite the Holy Scriptures, praise the Lord, and worship with sincerity. A tithe of all taxes shall be given to the Church, as proof of Adrian’s devotion to the Lord.”
“In return, I hope the Church can testify to Richard’s bloodline, prove him the new Earl of Adrian. And, if possible, help him gain recognition over this territory.”
Then Earl Raul suddenly shook his head, fluids within his forehead cavity churning. “No, no, the last part does not need the Church’s aid. Richard will accomplish it himself. He certainly will.”
As he spoke, Raul’s lips began twitching uncontrollably. The contents of his forehead cavity slowly changed from liquid to solid, darkening to crimson, then crumbling into powder and falling away.
Raul ignored it, fixing his gaze on the hesitant Marl. He continued, “The Church wishes to resist the Fishmen’s invasion, to protect the common folk. But we’re talking about an entire Nation of Fishmen. Even the Principality of Corlay fell to them. Richard alone cannot defend against that.”
“That Dragon-Eagle in the forest—it is strong, but the old man could threaten it. Not to mention the Fishmen who destroyed an entire principality.”
“And Richard—you wish to live by your knight’s code. But as you are now, you cannot.”
Raul leaned back, pulling the circlet back into his lap, covering his eyes from the dark crimson sand spilling from his forehead cavity.
Then he said his last words: “You all need this.”
When he finished, his body suddenly turned into crimson sand and collapsed completely. The circlet rested atop the heap of dust.
Richard’s body trembled, tears streaming unconsciously from his eyes.
Was it because he had just met his lord, only to see him die before his eyes?
Or was it the loss of his last blood relative?
Or perhaps the sheer weight of what he had just been told?
But Marl, seeing the Earl crumble into crimson powder, thought of none of these things. He simply stood, retrieved the circlet from the dust, and set it upon Richard’s head.
His hoarse voice said, “You may grieve, you may weep. You will have enough time to grieve and to weep. But afterward, you must remember—you are Knight Richard. And also Richard… Earl. You are the lord of this land.”
When the Morning Star rose, Richard donned the circlet, put on his old armor, and rushed alone into the Earl’s domain, toward the villages of his fief.
……
York Territory, western side, Northwind Mountains.
This place had grown rather lively of late.
The forest was silent, filled with the stench of decay and beast bones gnawed bare.
But that was not why it was lively.
Dark Creatures—slumbering so deeply they seemed dead.
Dark Creatures had far stronger vitality than beasts. Even when little more than skin and bone, they still lived.
Of course, “lived” meant their bodies remained fresh enough to fetch a good price.
Dark Creatures could be gutted without waking. What difference was that from death?
Ah, but there was a difference—living Dark Creatures sold for more.
So, at the prompting of the Mercenary Tavern, mercenaries rushed here and made a tidy profit.
They muttered words spreading widely in York Territory these days, giving thanks for the Lord’s blessing.
It was too mysterious—this entire mountain range of Dark Creatures had fallen into slumber. How could such a marvel not be counted as the Lord’s mercy upon their poverty?
Naturally, that was the reason they gave themselves—there was no unknown Mystery here to claim their lives.
Thus, the great Lord became their chosen faith.
For who in York Territory now would dare say they were not a devout believer?
And so, to more easily dismantle these Dark Creatures and sell every drop of their blood for the highest price, Senator Puniel had a small market established at the edge of the Northwind Mountains.
Compared to York Town, this place was more comfortable.
York Town was fine, but coins there vanished too easily.
Times had changed. Gold coins were precious now, and mercenaries sought to save rather than squander. Unless necessary, they spent little. Here, coarse wheat beer cost only three new copper coins a mug.
Though more expensive than before, and old coins were not accepted, it was still far cheaper than York Town, where a single mug cost a silver coin—a madman’s price.
Even after the currency reforms, with prices re-anchored, the Senate’s decree set one new copper coin to buy a day’s worth of black bread.
As for thin gruel—it had vanished from York Territory since last year’s bountiful harvest filled peasants’ cellars with grain.
The peasants praised the Lord, praised the lord of the land, praised the Senate. As for the gentry, now driven from their villages—no one cared. Indeed, only hatred remained for them.
Yet recently, the Dark Creatures of the Northwind Mountains were nearly picked clean. Mercenaries now found work escorting caravans northward, or venturing along the flanks of the mountain range.
Caravan escorting was safer but paid less. Exploring the flanks risked encountering living Dark Creatures, but the reward was higher.
Though these mercenaries had once felled living Werewolves, the heady days of glory were past. They had regained their calm, weighing their lives against gold.
But Guardian Knights Leo and Vito did not weigh such things.
The two swept through Dark Creatures where merchants had already begun probing.
Unlike mercenaries who consoled themselves by calling this the Lord’s mercy, they knew the truth—the bishop had once brought a Holy Relic here.
Thus, they knew some Dark Creatures had survived deeper within the mountains.
“I think, further down, there must be a Goblin nest.” Leo said, peering at a hole only knee-high, covered by leaves and well-hidden.
While Leo spoke, Vito was already binding vines around a stone. “I know you’re excited about learning the Prayer Technique, but I know it too. So don’t you think betting with me is a bit pointless?”
Leo drew his sword, clearing leaves from the cave mouth. “I just want to test the limits of the Prayer Technique. You know, Knight George is also a Guardian Knight, but he can use it to pray for the Lord’s revelation in words, while we only get vague feelings.”
“You said it yourself—that’s Knight George. Can you unleash holy light with a single swing like him?” Vito shook his head. “Knight Borien is a knight, Knight Wolf is also a knight. The three senators are nobles, Lord Pegira is a noble too. But they’re all very different.”
“Oh, Vito, that’s not quite the same. Knight Borien is an Honorary Knight, Knight Wolf is a field knight. The three senators are barons, Lord Pegira is a viscount.” Leo replied.
“You really want me to say it? The reason we are Guardian Knights is because we could only ever be Guardian Knights. Knight George is one because, at present, he can only be made a Guardian Knight.” Vito shot Leo a look, motioning for him to step aside.
“Wow, Vito, that’s a heartbreaking thing to say.” Leo chuckled, stepping aside to let Vito throw the vine-bound stone down.
Leo’s voice carried no trace of sorrow. In this eerily silent forest, the two always needed to trade banter.