Chapter 70

In the ancient Eastern classic “Mencius,” there is a passage that goes like this:

“There is no difference between killing someone with a sword and killing someone with politics.” This phrase is so famous that it’s even used in drama OSTs, and it’s one of the teachings I’ve engraved deep in my heart, ranking in the top 1000 important teachings on my inner monument. I can’t reveal the exact ranking, but I’ll tell you this: it lost tragically to the teaching, “If you eat more than three shrimp burgers, your stomach will feel heavy.” It was a close fight, truly a battle of titans, evenly matched, a real clash of wisdom.

Why am I mentioning this epic duel of geniuses? Because of the situation I’m in right now. If some punk tries to kill me with a sword, I can just zap them with magic. If some half-baked noble brat tries to mess with me, I can either zap them with magic or use my connections to crush them with greater power.

But the Imperial family is different. They’ve got murderers who’ve mastered the art of killing with swords, serving as knights under the name of the Imperial family, and politicians who’ve mastered the art of killing with politics, along with ministers who’ve reached near-perfection in their craft.

In short, they’re not easy opponents. I wanted to hammer in the Buddha’s teaching that revenge is meaningless, that hatred can only be resolved by letting go of hatred. And while I’m at it, I’d like to throw in Jesus’ teaching: “If someone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also.” And why not add Confucius’ teaching: “Repay evil with justice, and repay kindness with kindness.” With the teachings of these three great sages rejecting revenge, how dare the Imperial family even think of endorsing it?

If they dare go against the will of these three sages, divine punishment will surely rain down upon them.

“Master.”

While I was pondering the will of heaven, Airi suddenly spoke up.

“Where are we going this time?”

Lorcha only prepared the carriage up to the Magic Tower. After that, she told us to figure it out ourselves, that damn girl. So, in the end, we had to go meet someone Brother Melchior had contacted beforehand to get another carriage. What a hassle. It’s not like we’re taking a bus, so why all the transfers?

“We’re going to meet a brother I know.”

“But my legs hurt…”

Airi puffed out her cheeks in protest. I flicked my finger, deflating the air in her cheeks, and then pinched her soft cheek.

“Ow ow ow ow!”

“Don’t you know how much this master hates aegyo?”

“But isn’t my aegyo special?”

“Nope.”

Honestly, I didn’t feel like walking either. It’s not that my feet hurt or anything. Back in the “facility,” we were trained to walk dozens of kilometers without water like it was nothing.

The reason walking sucked was because of the stares. The women I was with, regardless of their personalities or intelligence, were all exceptionally beautiful. So, a lot of men, especially those uneducated adventurer punks, were staring at them creepily. I wanted to smack them with a Confucian punch, a Bible throw, or a Buddhist Rider Kick. Or maybe just fry them with a wide-area lightning spell. But I decided against it. As annoying as it was, I couldn’t just resort to violence over stares. If they tried to hit on them or touch them, though, I’d unleash a full-power Confucian punch with the blessing of the zodiac.

And there were plenty of stares directed at me too. The shopkeeper lady, the water-fetching girl, the muscular tanned man, the gossiping grannies, the long-bearded black-haired male adventurer, the plump-looking noblewoman, and even the slightly pretty female monk—all of them were staring at me creepily. It felt like there was something gross mixed in, but I decided to let it slide. Though, for some reason, it felt like Airi and Glacia were glaring at those people, threatening them.

Anyway, ignoring most of the creepy stares and a few gross ones, we finally started to see the carriage and person we were aiming for.

The carriage bore the emblem of a shield and spear, the crest of the Carven family, who had served the Imperial family for generations. And standing in front of it was a silver-haired knight, Ricardo Carven, the current head of the Carven family and a fragment of the great heroes. He’s also one of the brothers who cared for Werner.

So, nobles have family crests like that, huh? Come to think of it, Glacia’s Winterheart family crest was something like a white lion, right? But I’m not scared. Even though I’m not from a noble family with a crest, I’m a chosen one who possesses multiple crests: courage, friendship, love, knowledge, purity, sincerity, hope, and the crest of light. I have no reason to fear some measly family crest.

I expected Ricardo to be in armor like in the game, but he was wearing a white shirt and black pants, a surprisingly casual outfit.

Speaking of outfits, it reminds me of those jerks who buy DLC swimsuits for the male party members in the original game, take screenshots, and post them online. Back in the forum days, those guys were so annoying. You could just block the grandpa or grandma-tier trolls, but those game images were tricky. They were annoying, but they didn’t cross the line. I used to hate them so much I wanted to hunt them down and kill them, but now that I think about it… they’re just so damn annoying. Seeing the actual people in those swimsuits made it 500 times worse.

One of those “hate image” subjects approached me and offered a handshake.

“You’ve grown so much, Werner.”

“Haha… I’m not at the age where I should be hearing that.”

“You were still acting like a kid at 17, so seeing you as a proper adult now is surprising.”

“I’ve always acted like an adult.”

“…How old were you when you beat up five grown men during a festival for cutting in line, leaving them with 32 weeks of injuries?”

“…17. But they were the ones who cut in line and provoked me…”

“You know why I’m bringing this up, right?”

“Yeah.”

Damn, he’s not letting me off the hook. Honestly, Ricardo feels more like a bureaucrat than a knight. Or maybe he’s a hybrid weapon, a bureaucrat with exceptional combat skills.

Camelia chuckled and greeted Ricardo.

“Long time no see, Ricardo.”

“Indeed. I thought you’d be following those guys, but I’m a bit surprised you’re taking care of Werner instead.”

“No matter how surprising, could it be as surprising as your marriage news?”

“You, who live by principles, ignoring an arranged marriage and marrying for love—everyone was so shocked they fainted.”

Yeah, Ricardo’s marriage was definitely surprising. Ricardo, who values law, the Imperial family, and family rules, marrying for love? And not even a noble, but a regular flower shop girl? It’s the kind of marriage you’d only see in third-rate knight novels.

“My loyalty and dedication to order and principles remain unchanged. But I have the right to marry as I please.”

“That’s just like you.”

Ricardo turned his gaze to Airi and greeted her.

“You must be Airi? The last time I saw you, you were just a little kid who didn’t even reach my knees. I’m Ricardo Carven, captain of the Imperial Knights, a friend of your father… and your master’s brother.”

Airi, as always, responded cheerfully.

“Hi! I’m Airi Res! Wow, you’re the embodiment of chivalry that Master always talks about, right? It’s so nice to meet you!”

I never said anything like that, but Airi just made it up. Ricardo, hearing the praise, gave me a thumbs-up. That’s Airi for you—she knows how to save her master’s face. She’s not dumb at all. By making up that story, she boosted Ricardo’s favorability toward me. Truly, a disciple is the best, isn’t she?

Then Ricardo looked at Glacia, took a deep breath, and cautiously greeted her.

“You must be Glacia… I’m sure you’ve heard about me.”

“Yes, I’ve heard enough from my father, so there’s no need for introductions.”

The Carven family, to which Ricardo belongs, and the Winterheart family, to which Glacia and Melchior belong, are now sworn enemies.

Ricardo’s father was the one who killed Glacia’s grandparents. It’s less of a feud and more of a victim-perpetrator relationship… but in noble society, the wrongdoers are often the loudest.

It’s a universal truth that grandmothers feed their grandchildren when they see them, saying they look too thin. But because of Ricardo’s family, Glacia never got to experience that. How pitiful.