Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Good Knife

Because both the Academy and the Intelligence Bureau existed in the capital Galahad mainly stayed in the capital.

The capital was extremely clean. Soft stones were laid on the floor, and sewers were installed so there was no filth.

People all walked around wearing crow-like suits, and it was a place where the smell of perfume fully stabbed the nose.

It was thanks to the mages employed by the imperial family rather than the guys washing well.

Compared to that the North was terrible. He had heard the stories that it was severe, but actually coming it was not the degree of severe.

On the streets half-melted snow mixed with livestock filth was sticky, and people were black and gaunt from not washing.

It was to the extent that one wondered if the black death had separately circulated only in the North.

“Are the standbys there?”

The place where the standbys Gilbert brought lived was one level higher than that,

Most were collapsed houses and between them there were also houses clumsily built with wood.

A limping person crawled on the floor and a guy with no one hand laughed while looking at him.

“Yes, because the usable ones are all on the front line.”

“It means only the chaff who cannot go to the front line are on standby.”

“Similar.”

“It was leftovers.”

‘There was a reason the Grand Duke attached the condition of standby guys.’

That is, the meaning of go find well yourself in the recycling center—.

When Galahad in a neat coat and the armed knight Gilbert walked together gazes followed.

Guys who cursed as the cursed live-in son-in-law hurriedly hid at Gilbert’s gaze.

“I am quite famous. I should practice signing or something.”

“Is it good even after hearing live-in son-in-law?”

“It is good. Meeting a capable and pretty woman and living comfortably is the dream of all men, isn’t it.”

“I am not.”

“What is your dream?”

“I······.”

Gilbert who was about to speak unconsciously tightly closed his mouth.

“Why do you stop while speaking. There are two things that make a person angry, do you know what they are?”

“What.”

“A stupid mage and a smart knight.”

“The stupid mage is done, why does a smart knight make one angry?”

“If a knight is smart, the sword becomes slow. Your sword would be very fast.”

“······?”

Gilbert pointed to one side. Something like a dugout was gathered. A dugout—.

‘No different from orcs.’

He was curious how they endured with a dugout in such a cold place.

Gilbert stopped in front of the most shabby and shoddy dugout among the dugouts.

Under about four or five woven straws a boy was sitting.

Wearing a greatly disheveled head and worn clothes he was exactly a beggar, but that appearance was quite something.

Even the grime stuck on the face could not cover the boy’s nobility.

He was a boy who looked like a noble, but those eyes were truly clear.

Gilbert pointed to that boy.

“Damien, he possesses strange sword skills.”

“Strange sword skills?”

“It is not swordsmanship, but he catches the demon race extremely well.”

“He doesn’t even seem to have grown hair yet?”

“Is that important?”

“It is a joke. Young and fights well, why is he not in the castle?”

“The squads Damien was in were annihilated by the demon race. He is the sole survivor.”

“If he is the survivor of a squad annihilated by the demon race he should be taken care of better. But what squad······ s?”

“Such a thing happened about four times. Because of that other squads do not try to receive him, so he is on standby for a moment. Probably he will soon be deployed as a scout.”

Gilbert trailed off the later words. The sole survivor from a squad annihilated four times—.

“The possibility it is the boy’s doing?”

“There is none. It is a state where thorough investigation is finished.”

Hmm—. Galahad let out a groan. Because it is the front line they would have investigated more tightly.

Yet that no evidence came out meant the possibility it is not the boy’s doing is large.

“It means the skill is usable.”

“Yes, it is certain.”

Galahad headed toward the boy while shaking the cigarette. Bruises and scars were full in places on the boy. There were also ones that had not healed.

‘Is he being bullied. A weak guy is not needed···.’

Galahad clicked his tongue softly.

The boy had his mouth wide open toward the sky.

“Are you eating snow?”

“Because I am thirsty.”

“I see. Is it drinkable?”

“Today it tastes like lemon.”

Galahad hid the cigarette behind. The boy was still eating snow.

At the stupid act Galahad looked at Gilbert. Gilbert shrugged his shoulders.

Galahad clicked his tongue and sat beside the boy. Only then did the boy look at Galahad.

There was not a single emotion in those eyes. Familiar eyes.

It was similar to the guy he saw in the Intelligence Bureau. Brothers? No, that guy was black.

If different, unlike the guy smeared with killing intent the boy’s eyes were still clean.

The boy opened his mouth.

“You look interesting.”

At the out-of-the-blue evaluation Galahad raised the corners of his mouth.

“Damien, you also look interesting. Nobility flows on the face. Were your parents nobles?”

“No, our mother is a prostitute.”

At the out-of-the-blue parent introduction Galahad’s words were blocked for the first time.

“Amazing. A prostitute is not something anyone can do. Because it means there is charm enough to pay money. So, what does your father do.”

“Um, one of four.”

“Schrödinger’s father.”

“Schrödinger?”

“It means mysterious.”

Damien muttered ‘Schrödinger’ several times. It seemed he liked the meaning of that word.

“I came to take you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, I heard you knife so well.”

“Aha, I do a bit.”

“Amazing confidence. Today I opened the Special Mission Unit, you also enter.”

“That I dislike.”

At the clean refusal Galahad looked at Gilbert. Gilbert shrugged his shoulders. He really looks annoying.

“Why?”

“If I enter everyone dies. Uncle seems like a good person so if you die it seems regrettable.”

That voice was quite crisp. Galahad squinted his eyes.

“First I am not uncle but older brother. The Gilbert over there is uncle. Here, try calling older brother.”

“Older brother,”

At Galahad pointing to himself and saying ‘Uncle!’ Gilbert’s face furrowed.

“Second, I am not a good person. I am trying to become a good person, but it is not easy. And third, did you kill the squad members?”

“The demon race killed them.”

“Bad demon race.”

“Bad demon race.”

Unlike the content Damien’s voice was truly plain.

“If you turn that into your fault, wouldn’t the demon race whose merit was stolen be disappointed?”

“That is also so.”

“The words communicate well.”

“Still if I enter everyone will die.”

“Do not worry about that. I have a quite long lifespan.”

Damien examined Galahad up and down.

“You look frail?”

“What is seen is not everything.”

The boy who pondered for a moment nodded.

“Okay. There was nothing particular to do.”

“Damien, from now you belong to the Special Mission Unit. This is the order of His Grace the Grand Duke and—. Here, boy, stand up.”

“Yes, older brother.”

Damien stood up from the seat while swaggering. The sword dragged on the floor.

Gilbert could not understand the two who exchanged a bizarre conversation and stood up in unison.

Unfortunately the two did not seek Gilbert’s understanding.

***

Because Damien seemed to have starved too much, Galahad took Damien and headed to the tavern.

“Then I will bring the rest. Do not cause accidents and stay. Mercenary riffraff are mixed, it is a place even His Grace the Grand Duke gave up. If you die here you cannot even find the corpse.”

Gilbert warned several times and disappeared.

‘Cannot even find the corpse—.’

Galahad rolled the sentence in his mouth.

“Do you cause a lot of accidents usually?”

“Ordinary people think the extraordinary actions of a genius are accidents.”

“Aha.”

He stroked the nodding Damien’s head.

A man who seemed to be the tavern owner spat “ptui—”. The man was wearing a rusty iron club on one arm. It seemed like a Northern-style hook captain.

“Get lost quickly! I told you not to come again! Unlucky kid!”

“You, your reputation is not good.”

“Yes.”

“At your age if you just greet well people like you. Here, try it.”

“Hello.”

“You have to lower your head a little more.”

“Hello···.”

“Fuck, what is this retarded bastard again?”

At the rough curse Galahad clicked his tongue softly. The tavern man shook the right iron club. Is he threatening?

“I am Galahad. Nice to meet you, cool one-armed friend.”

“Who is your friend! Fuck—.”

Galahad stealthily placed his hand on the man’s club. When the man was about to curse something, a spark jumped from that mouth.

The man who had been opening and closing his mouth staggered and leaned to the side.

“It means we can enter. Here, let’s enter.”

“Did you kill him?”

“No, he just fell asleep for a moment. He will have a very good dream.”

Galahad firmly stepped on the man’s bulging belly and entered the tavern.

Noisy sound and lukewarm heat, dirty sweat smell first greeted them.

“Good.”

Men missing one eye or lacking something were noisily chattering. Between them women full of wrinkles burst into sharp laughter.

The floor had no space to step with uncleaned bones and broken glasses, somewhere a bizarre song sound was heard.

When they entered the noisy noise cut off with a “tuk—”. Gazes concentrated.

Guys with red eyes blew their noses with a “keng—”. Some guy fiddled with the sword tied at his own waist.

“You also seem to receive dislike not inferior to me?”

“Because it is my fault.”

“No, it is not your fault. I guarantee.”

Galahad raised his hand high and shouted.

“Everyone nice to meet! I am Special Mission Unit captain Galahad! If you have intact limbs and confidence in skill apply! I do not look at personality!”

The already sharp atmosphere became even more tense.

“The manners here are the worst. There is no guy who accepts the greeting.”

At Galahad’s grumbling Damien belatedly waved his hand.

Galahad smiled faintly and headed to the table in the center. It was a cool table with knife marks carved here and there.

“If there is something you want to eat order anything.”

“Really?”

“I do not speak lies.”

Damien’s pupils sparkled. He must have not eaten quite a bit.

Galahad raised his hand to order. What came to take the order was not an employee but a man who had been drinking at the next table.

He slammed his fist on the table with a “kwang!”. It will hurt—. Galahad muttered softly and raised his head.

The man raised the corners of his mouth while looking at Galahad.

“Fuck, I said there is a shitty demon race smell from somewhere—. There was a mage bastard?”

The man with a decent beard placed his hand on Damien’s shoulder and stared at Galahad.

‘That guy did it.’

That fist size was similar to the bruise near Damien’s ribs. Galahad’s eyes sank.

“First, magic and the demon race are strictly different. If you say such words in the capital you can hear the sound of being an ignorant bastard so be careful.”

“······What ignorant bastard?”

“It is that you can hear such words. By any chance are you ignorant?”

The man unconsciously shook his head.

“So be careful so as not to be misunderstood.”

The man’s face distorted. Yellow pus flowed from the man’s empty eye socket.

Whether he thought there was something at Galahad’s leisurely attitude, he stealthily turned his gaze to Damien.

‘Why do these guys ignore mages?’

Galahad was sincerely curious.

Then, the man who had hesitated for a moment turned his gaze to Damien. It seemed the original business was that side.

“If you have money to come to the tavern, you should bring it to me. This damned guy.”

“I have no money.”

“No money and you come to the tavern? Bullshitting—. I thought you were hiding money! Fuck bastard.”

“Did Damien incur debt?”

When Galahad raised his right hand and asked. The man ground his teeth with a “crunch—”.

“It is not your business though?”

“Because he is now my member. It is also my business.”

“Then will you pay it?”

“Not yet that close though.”

“Fuck! Then shut up! Before I grind that face!”

“Whoa—. Calm down. Who knows. Will I pay it?”

“So will you bastard pay it?”

“Hmm, first I will listen.”

The man’s face furrowed even more. Those jaundiced eyes wandered for a moment. Then, the men who had been behind stood up from their seats and approached this way.

The man’s shoulders rose again. A simple guy.

“This bastard’s killed squad member was my friend. A very close—.”

“Aha, I see. So did you lend money?”

“Why would I lend money to a bastard who eats squad members like that?”

“Then why tell him to bring money?”

“Because that bastard killed the squad members!”

“Did you kill the squad members?”

“No. I do not want to steal others’ merits.”

“Right. Stealing is bad.”

“What are you doing now. This fuck bastard—.”

“Please wait a moment.”

Galahad took out one silver coin that was in his inner pocket and placed it on the table. The man’s mouth closed. The men quickly exchanged glances.

The tavern became quiet to the extent no breathing sound was heard. Tak, the sound of locking the door was heard. A den of thieves, Galahad clicked his tongue softly.

“Was the dead squad member your family?”

“He was a colleague no different from family.”

The man answered while sending a glance to the side. A sharp sound as if taking something out was heard from the side.

“It means not family. Yet why do you receive money?”

“Because he was a very close colleague—.”

“Hmm, no matter how strange imperial law is, there is no law that inheritance goes to a colleague.”

“What law fuck—.”

Rough curses poured for a while. A hot heat was felt. Even a middle-aged woman was standing holding a kitchen knife.

‘Truly a place without culture.’

Galahad clicked his tongue softly and looked at Damien.

“Thinking about it, there is also your fault in the squad member dying.”

“You said no.”

“It is because you were weak that the squad member died. If you were strong would the squad member have died?”

“That is also so.”

Galahad stared at Damien. Damien’s focus became clear.

Then, noisy sound was heard from behind. The sound of drawing swords, excited breathing—. The song of those who do not know their place.

“Everyone makes mistakes. The important thing is not making the same mistake.”

“I see.”

Damien nodded.

“Here, I have fallen into danger. Save me. Damien.”

Galahad let out a small scream. At the bizarre action the men who had been drawing swords stopped awkwardly.

“Yes! Older brother!”

Damien gave a lively answer and drew the sword.

Damien’s sword was in a bad state. Rust was on it in places, and uncleaned blood stains were stuck here and there. It was a shitty sword that seemed one would get tetanus just by grazing.

A silver line was drawn in the air. That line was extremely clean.

The man whose arm fell screamed and fell flat. The spewed red blood wet Damien. Damien opened his mouth wide. Like when eating snow—.

“Ahh!”

Damien burst into an excited exclamation.

‘A butcher.’

Damien rolled forward.

The way of holding the sword was extremely peculiar. Holding it reverse grip was exactly like a person who had never held a sword in his life. That movement was also closer to a street thug than a swordsman.

It was rough and without order. Yet strangely it was sharper than any knight Galahad had seen.

The boy’s talent was not swordsmanship but murder.

“Kill—! Kill him! Unlucky bastard!”

“Die!”

The tavern became a mess in an instant. Damien moved softly between the attacks pouring randomly.

It was a movement closer to a stunt than swordsmanship.

‘The sword skill is strange.’

When about half the cigarette remained—.

The only one standing in the tavern was Damien. Galahad was sitting.

“Welcome to entering the Special Mission Unit.”

At Galahad’s congratulations Damien nodded. The excitement that had risen on Damien’s face soon cooled.

‘A born killer.’

He obtained a good knife.

Galahad flicked the fully smoked cigarette to the floor.

Then, the door opened roughly. The usual hook captain entered while cursing.

“This despicable mage bastard! Fuck! Dare in the gap of carelessness—?!”

The hook captain who had been spitting curses spiritedly trailed off at the tavern that had turned red. Fear rose on that face.

The hook captain who hesitated for a moment while watching the mood, when he was about to stealthily go out again—.

“Take the order.”

Galahad raised his right hand.