How to Live as a Wandering Knight

Chapter 20.1: 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭, 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐲, 𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐞 (𝟓)

Thanks to Eldans, Goran was convinced. It was a situation that might have aroused suspicion had it not been for his usual behavior.

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“Where did the information leak from? Did you buy something expensive?”

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“No. . . not really. Just common items. Though they could be sold for a good price if taken to the market. . .”

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Barley and wheat bought from a town in the northern part. These were goods to be sold or traded in the town of Rutzbeck. It was here that he had learned that barley and wheat were currently fetching high prices in Rutzbeck.

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Additionally, animal hides acquired from a town in the south. Fortunately, he managed to obtain well-tanned bear hides from a hunter. Though costly, they were a gift worthy of the nobles who favored his trading house.

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“Is that all?”

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“Yes. . .”

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“Doesn’t seem worth attacking over. Anything else? Another reason for coming here?”

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“Well, there were a few letters to be delivered to a trading house branch in the southern city. . .”

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“What’s in the letters?”

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“I don’t know the contents.”

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Tampering with sealed letters was an act that could dishonor the trading house.

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“And they weren’t even important letters. If they were, they wouldn’t have been entrusted to me.”

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As Count Jarpen’s realm grew uneasy and signs of fiefdom wars loomed, Eldans planned to rest after this trading trip.

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An experienced merchant didn’t abruptly cease visits even when war seemed imminent. He informed the towns he owed favors to in advance and conducted his final trades. A merchant who left without a word couldn’t be trusted. Relationships forged with each town were sometimes more important than life itself.

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‘𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘰𝘸. 𝘕𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵.’

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Johan looked at Eldans, who seemed very anxious about an unknown grudge.

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“Can’t help it now. I’ll assist you.”

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“Really?!”

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“Helping someone in danger is what a knight should do.”

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“. . .Thank you! Johan-nim!”

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Eldans was both surprised and pleased by Johan’s words. Goran and the mercenaries were shocked. The idea of helping without monetary gain was incomprehensible to them.

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‘𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦.’

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By helping Eldans and entering the city, the Katana Merchant Guild would vouch for Johan’s identity and assist him. The trading house wouldn’t just let go of someone who helped a guild member. Especially if that someone was a skilled knight.

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The trading house would be even more eager to get closer.

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Regardless of Johan’s endeavors, it was beneficial to be friendly with influential powers. After all, there were limits to what one could do alone in this place.The sourc𝗲 of this content nov(𝒆l)bi((n))

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🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸🔸

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“I will take these fellows with me.”

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“His leg is broken, can we really take him?”

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“Ah. . .”

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Goran looked slightly embarrassed. He had declared in front of Johan that he would definitely take them, but then realized it was too much.

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“But aren’t they your spoils of war, Sir Knight?”

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“They are my spoils, so I must take responsibility. Let’s not just abandon them.”

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“N-No!”

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The two mercenaries screamed. With a broken leg, what were they supposed to do here? Though it was a plain, there was a forest nearby.

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“Please show mercy, sir! We won’t do such things again!”

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“Mercy? You want me to kill you?”

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Johan gripped his mace. Being torn apart alive by beasts might be better than a clean death.

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“No. . . that’s not what I mean. . .”

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“Shut up! If you don’t want to die here.”

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Goran’s mercenaries roughed up the attackers. Without Johan, they would have been executed immediately. No mercenary would let go of someone who attacked first.

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“The rest of the spoils will be turned into money and shared upon reaching the city.”

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“Really?”

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“It wasn’t a solo fight.”

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What would have been obvious from a high-ranking person became generous and merciful. The mercenaries brightened up at Johan’s words. It was an unexpected bonus.

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‘𝘏𝘦’𝘴 𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘪𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘦?’

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‘𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘸𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘳𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘺. . .’