Chapter 89
How did it come to this?
It had been about 10 days since Karl arrived in Schwerin, and he was currently feeling confused.
He certainly hadn't expected to feel this way when he discovered the Gullveig symbol at the tavern on the day he arrived in Schwerin.
“Good morning, Sir Karl!”
“Did you sleep well last night, Sir Karl!”
“What work will you help us with today, Sir Karl!?”
People greeted Karl with friendly voices as he walked through the middle of the village.
And Karl, as if accustomed to it, was led away somewhere by the villagers' hands.
“So, Sir Karl, you just need to strike this part with all your might.”
Thump!
When Karl struck the center of the wood with a large two-handed hammer, driving the post deep, people applauded.
“Waaaaaah!
That's Sir Karl for you!”
As soon as someone’s cheer was heard, Karl was again being led somewhere by some child’s hand.
“So, that wild boar hit my uncle here and ran away…”
The child cried.
Karl showed a troubled expression.
Where to find the wild boar?
Karl pondered for a moment.
Just then, the child’s finger pointed towards the forest where the wild boar supposedly fled.
And letting out a light sigh, Karl caught a few wild boars in the forest and brought them down to the village.
When the two wild boars, which an ordinary person couldn't even drag, were carried on Karl’s left and right shoulders, the people got excited again.
“Waaaaaaaaah!
It’s a festival!
Let’s have a wild boar festival!
Sir Karl hunted wild boars for us!”
People shouted again.
And at some point, Karl found himself in the midst of celebrating the festival with them.
“Ahahahaha, so you don’t know how fortunate it is that Sir Karl came to our village!”
“Exactly!”
People were happy.
They laughed.
They shouted.
They drank.
And they danced together beside Karl.
And at some point, Karl found himself laughing and drinking together with them.
Was he perhaps bewitched by the peerless witch Gullveig?
Karl thought it was enjoyable spending time with the people here.
As this repeated several times, a month passed before he knew it.
***
Karl, who started his day mingling with the villagers as always, finished his usual morning training and washed his face with cold water.
Taking in the now familiar village scenery once, Karl lifted his head at an unfamiliar sound coming from afar.
Clip-clop. Clip-clop.
Just as the distinct sound of horse hooves seemed to get closer, a knight appeared before Karl.
“Are you Sir Karl Reitz Meyer?”
“What is it?”
“Lord Sergei wishes to see you, Sir.”
Even a lord in the outskirts would likely learn his identity within a month.
Karl shook the water from his hair and got dressed properly.
Putting on the armor he hadn't worn much since coming here, the surcoat over it, and finally strapping Léctĭo to his waist, he transformed into the perfect image of a knight.
Mounting Silver and following the guiding knight into the lord’s castle, Karl scanned his surroundings.
Were there any magical devices he didn't know of, or traps?
Since everyone in the domain bore the mark of Gullveig, the lord had a high probability of being one of Tarantula’s backers or a devil worshipper.
Karl heightened his concentration, remaining vigilant of his surroundings as he arrived at the lord’s office.
Creeaak.
The slightly under-oiled door of the lord’s office slowly opened, and Karl momentarily felt his tension ease.
“Welcome, Knight of the Lighthouse!”
The stout belly reminiscent of a 21st-century neighborhood uncle, the warm impression, and the table laden with food eased Karl’s tension.
It would be more dangerous if such a person were to backstab him, but the sheer heartiness that seemed incapable of harboring ulterior motives made Karl give up on further vigilance.
“First, let’s sit down.
I have many local specialties I wish to treat Sir Karl to.”
Sitting down at his suggestion, Karl nodded, looking at the composition of the food.
The man before him was truly serious about food.
“Please try some first.
Our castle cook is one of my prides.
Go ahead, try some.”
Karl moved his spoon first.
After tasting a few dishes, Karl nodded his head.
“Delicious.”
“See!
I knew it!”
The two continued their meal in silence for a while.
Then, at some point.
“Why did you invite me?
You could have pretended not to know.”
“…I couldn’t do that, could I?
Unless I didn’t know who you were.”
The Lord knew Karl’s identity.
And those who followed Gullveig were generally called devil worshippers by the world and were official enemies of the Order.
And the places where their names were mentioned were mostly scenes of tragedy.
Eating people, sacrificing them ritualistically, offering tributes, things like that.
“Did you come to kill us?”
“Why do you think that?”
“Well… because you are known as the Sword of Essus.
I heard you are God’s representative.
In the whole process of being the Knight of the Lighthouse, the Knight of Salvation, didn’t you mostly confront Tarantula?”
“What Tarantula did was certainly worthy of death.”
The Lord nodded his head.
“Of course, that’s true.
However, we are not on their side.
We simply believe in Gullveig.”
“I too have been to a place where there were believers of Gullveig.”
“…”
“What I saw there were hundreds of skeletons.
Most of those skeletons belonged to children.
That was the kind of act committed by those who claimed to believe in Gullveig.”
“There are… such people… But that is not Gullveig’s teaching.”
“Isn't she a witch?”
“That’s right, Lady Gullveig is a witch.
However, that doesn't mean she told humans to offer sacrifices.
That was merely the problem of followers who deviated from the teachings.”
Come to think of it, it seemed Gullveig hadn't told her followers to offer sacrifices.
It was just that those who considered the world absurd offered sacrifices to Gullveig, seeking power.
‘Does she not say anything about doing or not doing something?’
Gullveig was a god.
Not a witch.
It was the fanatics who made her a witch.
She hadn't created the fanatics herself.
Perhaps the demonized Gullveig was the result created by the misguided ideology of many who suffered injustice in Essus' world.
Desire and Hope.
The two qualities Gullveig possessed could produce entirely different results with just a slight difference.
“We are people who have served Lady Gullveig for many ages.
We are older than those devil worshippers or Tarantula.
However, we simply live, preserving our faith in this remote place, nothing more, nothing less.”
Staying here for a month, Karl could feel what the lord was saying.
The people here merely believed; they didn't force their beliefs on others or perform evil rituals.
They simply practiced what they learned.
‘Is it hope?’
Desire breeds endless monsters, but hope gives birth to new beginnings.
That slight difference created a huge change.
“If you get a chance sometime, come to one of our services.
Then you will understand my words.”
“I understand.”
“…?
What did you say?”
“I understand.”
“…?”
For the first time, a look of bewilderment crossed Lord Sergei’s face.
“Why?
How come?
You understand?”
“Is it wrong to?”
“You… understanding… isn’t that wrong?
You are Essus’ representative… the sword of the Vatican…”
“I am neither Essus’ representative nor the sword of the Vatican.”
“…”
Karl opened his mouth, looking at the suddenly dumbfounded Sergei.
“The people I saw here were neither devil worshippers nor fanatics.
Therefore, I understand.
There is no particular cruelty in the teachings you mentioned.
That’s how I understood it.”
At that moment.
Hot tears flowed from Sergei’s eyes.
“I never thought I’d hear the words ‘I understand’… Thank you…”
Watching him sob, Karl let out a light sigh and stood up.
“The meal was good.
It was a truly delicious meal after a long time.”
Unlike before, Karl’s expression was polite.
Lord Sergei was a person deserving of respect.
“Sir Karl, are you leaving!?”
“I plan to stay for a while.”
“Oh!
Visit often.
You’re always welcome!”
“I’ll come by sometimes for a meal.
If that’s alright.”
“Of course!
Visit anytime!”
Leaving him, Karl exited the lord’s castle.
Settling down in the tavern, Karl removed his surcoat and armor and changed into comfortable clothes.
Then, as always, he went outside to help people with their work, mingled with them, talked, and drank.
Their carefree smiling faces and the bright atmosphere fueled by light intoxication pleased Karl’s heart.
‘This is good too.’
Just as he thought everything was good, Karl felt an uncomfortable thought brush past his mind.
Mission.
It was a premonition that something would happen here too.
Thinking that worrying now wouldn't help, Karl decided to fall asleep first.
***
“So, the story is that these guys are heretics who believe in that witch, fanatics.
We just need to take the lord’s head and hand it over to Marquis Baltimo, and that’s it.”
While everyone in Schwerin slept, the low voice of a man with a long diagonal scar on his face flowed out.
Behind him, who had a giant mace slung over his shoulder, stood about thirty armored figures.
“Anyway, the main force won’t arrive for another two days…”
His eyes, gleaming with murderous intent, didn't look sane.
Sometimes on battlefields, there were those intoxicated by human blood who committed slaughter as routinely as eating.
His appearance was exactly like that.
The knights standing behind the man didn't look much different from the man leading them.
All of them had gleaming eyes filled with bloodlust.
“Commander.
When the main force arrives… will there be anything left for us to eat?
Shouldn’t we have some fun now?”
Joaquin, commander of the Red Knights, one of the three knight orders directly owned by Marquis Baltimo, found his subordinate’s words tempting.
Although he possessed outstanding martial prowess, he had various personality flaws.
If not for Marquis Baltimo, he would have been nothing more than a villain roaming the wilderness, committing crimes.
“That’s true.”
“If we just have some fun first, won't the main force arrive eventually?”
“Right… There’s no reason to hold back.
Enjoy what can be enjoyed, absolutely.”
Joaquin grinned, baring his teeth.
With the diagonal scar, his already ugly face, combined with his crooked teeth, made him look less like a human and more like a monster.
Despite the late hour, they urged their horses and rode towards the lord’s castle.
They had no intention of showing courtesy.
Thump thump thump thump!
“Open the gate!
Joaquin, Commander of the Red Knights of Marquis Baltimo’s domain!”
Shouting roughly, he pounded relentlessly on the castle gate.
Acting insolently, they didn't even realize gazes were following them, just excitedly shouting at the top of their lungs.