How to Live as a Wandering Knight

When Johan shared his conjecture, Achladda nodded in surprise. Johan’s theory seemed plausible.

It was more surprising that a knight, new to the area, had grasped the Duke’s intentions.

“That could be true. The Duke Brduhe is capable of that.”

“What do you think of the Duke?”

“He’s a chief who understands us well. He gives as much as we offer.”

Achladda’s words reflected satisfaction and trust in the Duke, who had been implementing conciliatory policies towards the nomadic tribes.

“But still, he is of the Empire. Our tribe wouldn’t have thought of such a strategy.”

Creating advantageous situations for the external tribes and inducing harmony by having Empire knights join them was a clever strategy. Not participating meant a loss.

Johan saw this as a refined approach, but wondered what the issue was.

“Well, if I were in charge, I wouldn’t help the arrogant knight dastards just because they ask for it. Other warriors probably think the same.”

“But some seem to have already joined hands?”

Achladda chuckled at Johan’s comment, sending shivers down his spine.

“Don’t think they have really joined hands, Sir Knight. Empire people may trust oaths, but we don’t. We first see if the other is a warrior worth respecting.”

If the counterpart wasn’t worthy of respect, any promise made with them meant nothing, regardless of oaths or honor.

It was uncertain how sincere the warriors who joined hands with the Empire knights were. Betrayal and disappearance at any moment wouldn’t be surprising.

“It’s interesting to hear about such customs, but it makes me uneasy to hear this now when we’ve agreed to move together. . .”

“Don’t worry, Sir Knight. I wouldn’t have invited you to visit our tribe if I didn’t respect you.”

Achladda wouldn’t have made such an offer to someone he didn’t respect.

As Achladda enthusiastically chatted, several warriors gathered around. They were familiar with Achladda or related to his tribe.

They, too, had participated in the tournament in the east and were very pleased to see Johan.

“Didn’t expect the troll slayer to be here!”

“I already feel like we’re winning.”

Among the gathered, chatting crowd, Johan suddenly realized he hadn’t asked the most important thing.

“So why have we gathered like this? What are we trying to catch?”

“. . .Well. Achladda. You haven’t told him yet?”

“What did the sir believe in to follow you? Did he just come along without knowing?”

“What if he leaves after hearing it?”

“Nonsense. Would such a warrior back down?”

“I see. I misspoke.”

As the warriors became noisy, Achladda signaled for them to quiet down.

“Sir Knight. I apologize. I forgot the most important thing. . . .But why didn’t you ask, Sir Knight?”

“I trust you, that’s why.”

“Do you think I’ll be moved by what you said?”

Although he said that, Achladda looked very happy. As the personnel gathered, he shouted.

“Now, gathered warriors, rough and tenacious warriors, fierce like untamable lions, warriors with fire in their eyes and light on their faces! Let’s go on a hunt so grand that Brduhe will be breathless with awe! Let’s show who owns this plain! To the arrogant Empire folks. . .”

“A-Achladda. Sir Knight is also here. . .”

“. . .Not to that Sir Knight, but to the arrogant Empire folks, let’s show who owns this plain! Let’s go! To catch the leader of the werewolves!”

The gathered warriors in front of the forest raised their weapons, responding to Achladda’s call.

Werewolf King.

That was the goal of all the warriors gathered here.

🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸

The centaurs and humans rode out through the forest, all but Johan familiar with the area and able to navigate the paths even with their eyes closed.

The warriors, considering Johan, placed him in the middle of the group, but surprisingly, Johan kept up without falling behind.

“Sir Johan. Have you often ridden through the forest?”

Riding a horse in the forest required more than instinct and intuition; it needed experience and technique.

Signals from the elements of the forest. The shape of the extended path and the direction of the branches. The appearance of leaves and piled earth. . .

To decipher where to steer based on these things, experience was required.

And Johan’s mentor in the forest was Joseph. A ranger from the East.

Johan suddenly realized that Joseph was from the East. What he had said was also useful in the East.

Euclyia, who had approached thinking she might help Johan if he fell behind, exclaimed,

“Like a snail, fast, and cool!”

“. . .Maybe speaking in Eastern dialect would be better.”

Euclyia blushed and nodded her head. Since she wanted to become more familiar with the Eastern dialect, it was better to converse in it.

“Sir Knight. Recently, there have been more werewolves.”

Achladda said, casually flicking his bowstring. The arrow in Achladda’s hand was unique compared to the others. It was much shorter and sharper.

“They’re not the kind with no heads that would overrun a town. . . but their numbers have increased that much.”

The monsters, with diminishing prey, became more aggressive and active. Werewolves knew attacking towns was dangerous.

Yet, their attacks implied one reason.

“There might be several reasons for the increase of werewolves, but our tribe’s shamans, as well as other tribes’, have made the same prophecy. There must be a leader among the werewolves.”

Werewolves typically didn’t group much, often fighting for dominance within their own kind.

However, occasionally, a strong werewolf, having survived long enough, would subdue others and form a pack.

With a strong leader, the werewolf pack, more organized, would last longer.

Especially if these fierce monsters moved in an orderly fashion. . .

“We were going to report to the Duke and ask for soldiers, but given the situation, we decided it’s better to handle it ourselves. Wouldn’t it be an honor?”

“So, how do you plan to catch them?”

“With this, of course.”

Achladda held up his bow and arrow. Despite a regular bow and arrow being less effective against monsters, his confidence was evident.

“As you must know, having caught a troll, what’s most important in hunting a monster?”

“A way to ensure cutting off its breath.”

“Exactly.”

Achladda smiled slyly. He thought Johan shared his perspective.

“A deadly poison strong enough to cut off a werewolf’s breath. I’ve prepared such a poison. You must have it too, Sir Knight, for when you caught the troll.”

“Uh. . .”

“Oh? Did you catch it with fire?”

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