"They must be in the midst of a duel."
Fether, walking through the mansion, shook his head upon hearing the sounds from below.
"Squires."
"That's what I think."
There, under the guidance of their instructor, the squires were gathered, engaging in duels with wooden swords.
Fether had often seen knights and squires training like this in secret.
Fether Bayezid, not only the head of the family but also one of the prominent knights of the North. The fact that such a prestigious and, for some, aspirational figure could be seen anytime, anywhere, was a great motivation for the servants of this place.
"Let's watch for a while."
"Yes."
Moreover, those who excelled in training were rewarded for their efforts, so the knights and squires of House Bayezid always trained with a warrior's mindset.
Everything was as Fether had anticipated.
"It's him."
"I heard he had blonde hair."
"It's also the first time I see him, so it must be him."
Fether usually glanced at the training, but today, he had his eye on a particular squire.
"He looks promising."
A blonde squire who stood out even from afar.
There he was, the boy brought by his second son, the one who always had sore fingers.
"Sir. Over there."
Ragmus the Advisor whispered to Fether, who was focused on watching Vlad.
"It's Jager."
"I guess he's watching too."
Where Ragmus pointed, there was Jager, the squint-eyed knight, looking at the blonde boy with a serious expression on his face.
"As with everything, the first time is nerve-wracking."
Knowing that Jager was the first of his class, Fether could only smile silently.
"Let's watch."
The one Joseph had brought, what mattered to Jager.
"..."
"He looks fierce."
Now he was down there, fiercely wielding his sword against a squire a head taller than him.
"Clumsy."
"Is he?"
It might not be visible to Advisor Ragmus's eyes, but Fether had recognized Vlad's skill level with just one swing of his sword.
"But he has a spark. I'm sure he'll captivate."
"Certainly, there's something in him that makes him stand out from the crowd."
Fierce.
Fast.
And unwavering.
"That's cool."
"What do you mean?"
But even more than those things, like the talent he had since birth, Fether held in higher esteem another aspect of Vlad.
"The way he tries to use what he's learned, even if clumsily."
Even in the midst of the fierce battle, the blonde boy remained composed, moving back and forth, trying to anticipate his opponent's movements.
Trying and challenging.
The boy underneath was trying to improve.
"It's a mess."
The movement, resembling someone's stumbling feet, was so clumsy that it made Fether laugh, but he liked how he tried to make it work.
It was the kind of movement that made you cheer.
"Good."
The grand squire's wooden sword rose in the air.
It was a final move, but it was all the doing of the blonde boy.
"It's over."
True to Fether's words, the blonde boy was now sitting on top of his opponent, punching him in the face.
He made him make a big move and then quickly punched him in the stomach.
The movement was clumsy, but the result was clear.
"Is it okay to hit him like that in training?"
"Leave him be. If he's going to be a knight, he needs to have that determination."
Fether moved from his halted steps and stared at the knight in the distance.
The squint-eyed knight, looking at his squire from afar, smiled in silence.
***
Vlad was always the first to move.
He had to detect and move faster than anyone else to secure food for the day.
"Stop! Stop!"
The instructor's call didn't prevent Vlad from stopping his punches in a mock duel.
"That's enough..."
"Once again, if you do that in front of me..."
So this time, I decided to make the first move.
Sooner or later there would be a beating disguised as training.
Vlad decided it was better to break the momentum than to be surrounded and beaten.
It would have been suicidal to stand idly by as the threat approached.
"Answer me, you bastard."
"Okay, okay."
Vlad's unruly behavior left the man with no choice but to say yes, with a frightened look in his eyes.
The one being beaten now was the one who had been laughing heartily with Sovanin when he spat in the dining hall that day.
In street language, he was Sovanin's favorite pupil.
"Stop, what do you think you're doing!"
"Sorry. Got a bit carried away."
Vlad stepped back only after his instructor shouted at him, but the fallen one didn't get up easily.
"What a look!"
There was definitely life in Vlad's eyes as he grumbled to himself.
It was something that shouldn't have come out in a duel, and it was also a raw feeling he had never encountered before.
Even if he closed his eyes, he could still see those piercing eyes in front of him, and the fallen squire couldn't easily get up.
"..."
"..."
And he was being watched by everyone here.
Just like in the dining hall that day.
Vlad, shaking off his seat, approached Sovanin's side and spoke quietly.
"Tell him I'm sorry. Once I start this, I can't control myself."
"Damn madman."
Vlad was smiling as he spoke, so at first glance, it seemed like they were having a lighthearted joke, but it looked more like the words of a killer.
"And I apologize to you in advance."
Sovanin looked at Vlad with a furrowed brow.
Although his face was smiling, Vlad's eyes gleamed eerily.
"It won't end with just that."
"What?"
Sovanin was tense.
There had never been a case like this.
He wasn't a noble, but Sovanin, whose father ran a fairly large business, was known to bow down even before having the chance to intimidate them.
But this bastard was...
"You can expect it."
This damn guy.
Sovanin thought sincerely as he looked at Vlad, who was smiling.
Joseph brought in a stray dog from the alley.
"I'll call you when I get bored of liver soup, and I want you to come and spit on him."
The stray dog laughed in Sovanin's eyes.
Sovanin swallowed hard at Vlad's smile.
Stray dogs don't hesitate to bite people.
***
"Captain, are you okay? Did any of the other guys do anything to you?"
"I'm doing fine these days, and I've been using the bathroom to avoid the snow."
"...Doesn't sound like something good, right?"
Vlad could only shrug at Goethe's comment.
"After all, I've been beating up the squires."
Goethe looked at Vlad and shook his head.
"I've hit three on the first day, and the others keep their distance..."
"It's a survival rule that if you're going to fight, it's better to strike first."
Truly from the streets, Goethe thought as he looked at Vlad.
Shortly after the incident in the dining hall, Vlad had shown an action speed that surprised Goethe.
Vlad had befriended Sovanin among the squires, had picked out those being disrespectful, and then, like a wolf to a lamb, had gone after them one by one and crushed them.
In the restrooms, in the bathrooms, in the dim hallways of the mansion.
Anyone left alone just had to face Vlad's piercing gaze.
Jorge had said.
If you beat him enough, he'll crawl.
"That's a crime."
"I'm a criminal by nature. I'm actually quite good at assaulting people, and I don't mind hitting people in the face."
"Oh, you did."
Goethe nodded, listening to Vlad's words.
He had briefly mistaken Vlad for a normal guy, as he had been mingling with a group of guys his age, but Vlad wasn't older than seventeen, and he had gone through the toughest environment of mercenaries.
"You have to hit them until they feel like they're going to die."
"That's what they do."
Before I knew it, they were inside the dining hall.
There sat the squires, pretending not to see Vlad, and the servants, who had already been beaten and dared not look at him.
"Look at him. It's nice not to be touched."
"...Sausages for today's lunch."
Happy to see meat, Vlad hummed and picked up his plate.
And as he walked away, smiling, there was someone who watched him closely.
"One more."
It was Vlad who had smiled and asked for more sausages at the table, but the maid in front of him was a middle-aged servant with strong bones from the Bayezid family.
"So the person behind you can't eat."
"He can't?"
"No..."
Seeing the middle-aged maid refusing with a firm look, Vlad was forced to step down from the table.
"If it weren't for Joseph, I would have collapsed."
Despite his slim appearance, Vlad had a voracious appetite.
It was like a natural instinct, engraved in him by the place where he was born.
Vlad and Goethe sat at the table, disappointment on their faces after the negotiation failed.
"But it's better here."
"Better than when we were mercenaries. Don't you think, Captain?"
They picked up their utensils and were about to bring the food to their mouths.
"Oh, H-hi."
Someone said awkwardly in Vlad's direction.
"What are you..."
Vlad slightly frowned, wondering if this time he was going to get into a fight, but the guy sitting in front of him didn't seem like the type to do that.
Short stature, chubby cheeks, and eyes buried in the flesh and hard to see.
"I'm Portly, Portly Kannor."
Sorry to think about it, but it seemed like you could roll him if you pushed him.
"Alright. What can I do for you, Portly?"
"That..."
Vlad slightly frowned.
The way the man hesitated with the plate in front of him didn't look good, and by the way he fidgeted, it seemed like it would take him a while to pronounce the words.
"Sit or get lost."
"Huh?"
"Don't stand in front of me with your stomach in a knot."
Those were harsh words, but Portly's face lit up as if he had taken Vlad's words as an invitation to sit.
"Thanks for telling me to sit."
"..."
Vlad looked at Portly with a "What the hell!" expression, but he smiled shyly and decided to focus on his lunch for the moment, as he didn't want to kick the guy out of his seat.
"I've been eating alone all the time. In fact, I've been eating alone in the bathroom."
"Right now, you're eating in..."
From this dialogue, Vlad realized that the bully had been this guy before him.
"Good sausage, huh?"
"Shut up and eat it."
Still, there was no reason to worry.
"Eat this too."
Watching Vlad disappointedly scream as he put in his mouth the only sausage he had, Portly carefully slid his own into Vlad's plate.
"What are you doing?"
Vlad longed for anything within his reach, except for vain pity and dubious favors.
But even under Vlad's piercing gaze, Portly continued cautiously.
It was like an employee dealing with a challenging customer.
"You don't think I'm..."
"These sausages... my father is the distributor."
"...What?"
Portly's behavior had been gruff since the bullying, but when he talked about his father, he sounded confident.
"The last I heard, he wanted more sausages."
"Yeah, he wanted."
"You know what, sausage is a preservative, so it's as good a commodity as jerky, if not better, for mercenaries with money."
"And?"
Vlad was starting to get annoyed with the unfocused dialogue.
"So my father sends me a bunch of things to eat."
Portly laughed, saying that he had a lot of sausages and cured meats in his room from his father.
"It's too much for me to eat alone, so do you want me to share some with you?"
"..."
Vlad thought.
I'll never be as good as Priest Andreas, but I've come this far, so I might make some connections.
I can't help the ones I've already pretended to be, but if I get to know some people here, it might help me later in life.
"Yes."
The son of a butcher from a family large enough to supply the Count's family must have some usefulness.
Not necessarily for the sausages, Vlad thought.
***
In front of Portly's room, Vlad and Goethe were left dumbfounded.
"Why is this here?"
"To become a squire."
"You're not even a knight, just a squire?"
"Yes. I'm not going to be a knight, and my father didn't expect much from me. He just wanted me to come here and make some connections."
Portly smiled shyly, as if that hadn't worked out, but Vlad and Goethe saw none of that in his eyes.
The room was filled with sausages and cured meats.
Vlad smirked ironically at the room, devoid of someone aspiring to be a squire.
This guy shouldn't be here.
"Do you want to eat with me tomorrow...?"
"Really? Are you going to do that?"
If so, there's no need to condemn them to ostracism.
Vlad's eyes lit up as he looked at the sausages hanging like decorations.
"Bring me the sausages instead."
Portly's sausages weren't the kind of thing that would make you sick.
In more than one sense.
"They must be in the midst of a duel."
Fether, walking through the mansion, shook his head upon hearing the sounds from below.
"Squires."
"That's what I think."
There, under the guidance of their instructor, the squires were gathered, engaging in duels with wooden swords.
Fether had often seen knights and squires training like this in secret.
Fether Bayezid, not only the head of the family but also one of the prominent knights of the North. The fact that such a prestigious and, for some, aspirational figure could be seen anytime, anywhere, was a great motivation for the servants of this place.
"Let's watch for a while."
"Yes."
Moreover, those who excelled in training were rewarded for their efforts, so the knights and squires of House Bayezid always trained with a warrior's mindset.
Everything was as Fether had anticipated.
"It's him."
"I heard he had blonde hair."
"It's also the first time I see him, so it must be him."
Fether usually glanced at the training, but today, he had his eye on a particular squire.
"He looks promising."
A blonde squire who stood out even from afar.
There he was, the boy brought by his second son, the one who always had sore fingers.
"Sir. Over there."
Ragmus the Advisor whispered to Fether, who was focused on watching Vlad.
"It's Jager."
"I guess he's watching too."
Where Ragmus pointed, there was Jager, the squint-eyed knight, looking at the blonde boy with a serious expression on his face.
"As with everything, the first time is nerve-wracking."
Knowing that Jager was the first of his class, Fether could only smile silently.
"Let's watch."
The one Joseph had brought, what mattered to Jager.
"..."
"He looks fierce."
Now he was down there, fiercely wielding his sword against a squire a head taller than him.
"Clumsy."
"Is he?"
It might not be visible to Advisor Ragmus's eyes, but Fether had recognized Vlad's skill level with just one swing of his sword.
"But he has a spark. I'm sure he'll captivate."
"Certainly, there's something in him that makes him stand out from the crowd."
Fierce.
Fast.
And unwavering.
"That's cool."
"What do you mean?"
But even more than those things, like the talent he had since birth, Fether held in higher esteem another aspect of Vlad.
"The way he tries to use what he's learned, even if clumsily."
Even in the midst of the fierce battle, the blonde boy remained composed, moving back and forth, trying to anticipate his opponent's movements.
Trying and challenging.
The boy underneath was trying to improve.
"It's a mess."
The movement, resembling someone's stumbling feet, was so clumsy that it made Fether laugh, but he liked how he tried to make it work.
It was the kind of movement that made you cheer.
"Good."
The grand squire's wooden sword rose in the air.
It was a final move, but it was all the doing of the blonde boy.
"It's over."
True to Fether's words, the blonde boy was now sitting on top of his opponent, punching him in the face.
He made him make a big move and then quickly punched him in the stomach.
The movement was clumsy, but the result was clear.
"Is it okay to hit him like that in training?"
"Leave him be. If he's going to be a knight, he needs to have that determination."
Fether moved from his halted steps and stared at the knight in the distance.
The squint-eyed knight, looking at his squire from afar, smiled in silence.
***
Vlad was always the first to move.
He had to detect and move faster than anyone else to secure food for the day.
"Stop! Stop!"
The instructor's call didn't prevent Vlad from stopping his punches in a mock duel.
"That's enough..."
"Once again, if you do that in front of me..."
So this time, I decided to make the first move.
Sooner or later there would be a beating disguised as training.
Vlad decided it was better to break the momentum than to be surrounded and beaten.
It would have been suicidal to stand idly by as the threat approached.
"Answer me, you bastard."
"Okay, okay."
Vlad's unruly behavior left the man with no choice but to say yes, with a frightened look in his eyes.
The one being beaten now was the one who had been laughing heartily with Sovanin when he spat in the dining hall that day.
In street language, he was Sovanin's favorite pupil.
"Stop, what do you think you're doing!"
"Sorry. Got a bit carried away."
Vlad stepped back only after his instructor shouted at him, but the fallen one didn't get up easily.
"What a look!"
There was definitely life in Vlad's eyes as he grumbled to himself.
It was something that shouldn't have come out in a duel, and it was also a raw feeling he had never encountered before.
Even if he closed his eyes, he could still see those piercing eyes in front of him, and the fallen squire couldn't easily get up.
"..."
"..."
And he was being watched by everyone here.
Just like in the dining hall that day.
Vlad, shaking off his seat, approached Sovanin's side and spoke quietly.
"Tell him I'm sorry. Once I start this, I can't control myself."
"Damn madman."
Vlad was smiling as he spoke, so at first glance, it seemed like they were having a lighthearted joke, but it looked more like the words of a killer.
"And I apologize to you in advance."
Sovanin looked at Vlad with a furrowed brow.
Although his face was smiling, Vlad's eyes gleamed eerily.
"It won't end with just that."
"What?"
Sovanin was tense.
There had never been a case like this.
He wasn't a noble, but Sovanin, whose father ran a fairly large business, was known to bow down even before having the chance to intimidate them.
But this bastard was...
"You can expect it."
This damn guy.
Sovanin thought sincerely as he looked at Vlad, who was smiling.
Joseph brought in a stray dog from the alley.
"I'll call you when I get bored of liver soup, and I want you to come and spit on him."
The stray dog laughed in Sovanin's eyes.
Sovanin swallowed hard at Vlad's smile.
Stray dogs don't hesitate to bite people.
***
"Captain, are you okay? Did any of the other guys do anything to you?"
"I'm doing fine these days, and I've been using the bathroom to avoid the snow."
"...Doesn't sound like something good, right?"
Vlad could only shrug at Goethe's comment.
"After all, I've been beating up the squires."
Goethe looked at Vlad and shook his head.
"I've hit three on the first day, and the others keep their distance..."
"It's a survival rule that if you're going to fight, it's better to strike first."
Truly from the streets, Goethe thought as he looked at Vlad.
Shortly after the incident in the dining hall, Vlad had shown an action speed that surprised Goethe.
Vlad had befriended Sovanin among the squires, had picked out those being disrespectful, and then, like a wolf to a lamb, had gone after them one by one and crushed them.
In the restrooms, in the bathrooms, in the dim hallways of the mansion.
Anyone left alone just had to face Vlad's piercing gaze.
Jorge had said.
If you beat him enough, he'll crawl.
"That's a crime."
"I'm a criminal by nature. I'm actually quite good at assaulting people, and I don't mind hitting people in the face."
"Oh, you did."
Goethe nodded, listening to Vlad's words.
He had briefly mistaken Vlad for a normal guy, as he had been mingling with a group of guys his age, but Vlad wasn't older than seventeen, and he had gone through the toughest environment of mercenaries.
"You have to hit them until they feel like they're going to die."
"That's what they do."
Before I knew it, they were inside the dining hall.
There sat the squires, pretending not to see Vlad, and the servants, who had already been beaten and dared not look at him.
"Look at him. It's nice not to be touched."
"...Sausages for today's lunch."
Happy to see meat, Vlad hummed and picked up his plate.
And as he walked away, smiling, there was someone who watched him closely.
"One more."
It was Vlad who had smiled and asked for more sausages at the table, but the maid in front of him was a middle-aged servant with strong bones from the Bayezid family.
"So the person behind you can't eat."
"He can't?"
"No..."
Seeing the middle-aged maid refusing with a firm look, Vlad was forced to step down from the table.
"If it weren't for Joseph, I would have collapsed."
Despite his slim appearance, Vlad had a voracious appetite.
It was like a natural instinct, engraved in him by the place where he was born.
Vlad and Goethe sat at the table, disappointment on their faces after the negotiation failed.
"But it's better here."
"Better than when we were mercenaries. Don't you think, Captain?"
They picked up their utensils and were about to bring the food to their mouths.
"Oh, H-hi."
Someone said awkwardly in Vlad's direction.
"What are you..."
Vlad slightly frowned, wondering if this time he was going to get into a fight, but the guy sitting in front of him didn't seem like the type to do that.
Short stature, chubby cheeks, and eyes buried in the flesh and hard to see.
"I'm Portly, Portly Kannor."
Sorry to think about it, but it seemed like you could roll him if you pushed him.
"Alright. What can I do for you, Portly?"
"That..."
Vlad slightly frowned.
The way the man hesitated with the plate in front of him didn't look good, and by the way he fidgeted, it seemed like it would take him a while to pronounce the words.
"Sit or get lost."
"Huh?"
"Don't stand in front of me with your stomach in a knot."
Those were harsh words, but Portly's face lit up as if he had taken Vlad's words as an invitation to sit.
"Thanks for telling me to sit."
"..."
Vlad looked at Portly with a "What the hell!" expression, but he smiled shyly and decided to focus on his lunch for the moment, as he didn't want to kick the guy out of his seat.
"I've been eating alone all the time. In fact, I've been eating alone in the bathroom."
"Right now, you're eating in..."
From this dialogue, Vlad realized that the bully had been this guy before him.
"Good sausage, huh?"
"Shut up and eat it."
Still, there was no reason to worry.
"Eat this too."
Watching Vlad disappointedly scream as he put in his mouth the only sausage he had, Portly carefully slid his own into Vlad's plate.
"What are you doing?"
Vlad longed for anything within his reach, except for vain pity and dubious favors.
But even under Vlad's piercing gaze, Portly continued cautiously.
It was like an employee dealing with a challenging customer.
"You don't think I'm..."
"These sausages... my father is the distributor."
"...What?"
Portly's behavior had been gruff since the bullying, but when he talked about his father, he sounded confident.
"The last I heard, he wanted more sausages."
"Yeah, he wanted."
"You know what, sausage is a preservative, so it's as good a commodity as jerky, if not better, for mercenaries with money."
"And?"
Vlad was starting to get annoyed with the unfocused dialogue.
"So my father sends me a bunch of things to eat."
Portly laughed, saying that he had a lot of sausages and cured meats in his room from his father.
"It's too much for me to eat alone, so do you want me to share some with you?"
"..."
Vlad thought.
I'll never be as good as Priest Andreas, but I've come this far, so I might make some connections.
I can't help the ones I've already pretended to be, but if I get to know some people here, it might help me later in life.
"Yes."
The son of a butcher from a family large enough to supply the Count's family must have some usefulness.
Not necessarily for the sausages, Vlad thought.
***
In front of Portly's room, Vlad and Goethe were left dumbfounded.
"Why is this here?"
"To become a squire."
"You're not even a knight, just a squire?"
"Yes. I'm not going to be a knight, and my father didn't expect much from me. He just wanted me to come here and make some connections."
Portly smiled shyly, as if that hadn't worked out, but Vlad and Goethe saw none of that in his eyes.
The room was filled with sausages and cured meats.
Vlad smirked ironically at the room, devoid of someone aspiring to be a squire.
This guy shouldn't be here.
"Do you want to eat with me tomorrow...?"
"Really? Are you going to do that?"
If so, there's no need to condemn them to ostracism.
Vlad's eyes lit up as he looked at the sausages hanging like decorations.
"Bring me the sausages instead."
Portly's sausages weren't the kind of thing that would make you sick.
In more than one sense.
