TL: Knight Errant
‘Just a single bag, that’s all.’
Galahad clicked his tongue softly while shaking the leather bag in his hand.
He had prided himself on living quite diligently, yet in the end, all he had gained was this single leather bag. He had returned his uniform, leaving him dressed in the shabby shirt and pants he had worn when he arrived.
‘I’m the first one to make it out alive.’
There was a famous saying within the Intelligence Agency, the legend that leaving the agency required giving up one’s life. In reality, once someone belonged to the Intelligence Agency, they could not transfer to another department.
This was because the Intelligence Agency was obsessively strict about security. If it weren’t for political reasons, they would have tried to erase Galahad’s memories, even if it meant hitting his head with a hammer.
‘They said someone was coming to pick me up.’
Galahad placed a cigarette between his lips.
At that moment, a carriage approached noisily. The glossy horses pranced energetically, startling passersby. Some stopped to watch, as if witnessing something unusual.
‘A carriage in this day and age-.’
Galahad squinted.
With the advancement of magical engineering, magic vehicles equipped with magic circles and mana reservoirs had replaced horses. Their cost was similar to or cheaper than horses, and they were easier to maintain, making them highly popular. In fact, carriages were gradually disappearing from the Capital.
‘A carriage sent by the Grand Duke, huh.’
Having to travel that great distance by carriage, Galahad clicked his tongue as he made his way toward it. Inside sat a man with sharply slanted eyes.
Thick iron armor, a long sword at his waist, a dagger tucked into his inner thigh, and a helmet placed beside him, he was a typical knight.
“Are you Galahad Ambertan?”
“That’s right. Did His Highness the Grand Duke send this carriage?”
“Yes. You may call me Gilburton. I’ll guide you.”
The man roughly opened the door. The interior was even worse than the exterior. The seats, covered with tattered cloth, looked less comfortable than those in a tavern, and the walls were stained.
‘This won’t be easy.’
Sending such a shabby carriage with only one escort was a clear sign that they were not particularly welcoming Galahad.
“It’s made from demon leather, so it’s softer than it looks.”
The man who had introduced himself as Gilburton said with a hint of amusement in his voice.
Knowing that complaining wouldn’t change anything, Galahad simply nodded and stepped into the carriage.
Bang! The carriage door shut noisily. Before Galahad could even sit down, the carriage lurched forward.
“Comfortable indeed- It feels like someone is kicking my back.”
Muttering under his breath, he heard laughter from outside the carriage.
‘Sharp ears.’ Galahad mumbled as he reached into his inner pocket.
He pulled out a small leather notebook. On the surface, it appeared to be nothing more than a worn notebook, but when he channeled mana into it, it automatically opened.
The pages were filled with a variety of handwriting styles, ranging from scribbled letters to neat penmanship.
At the very top, the first sentence read,
[I have possessed a novel character.]
It was written in clumsy Hangul. (TL Note: Korean)
Although the words were undoubtedly in Galahad’s own handwriting, they were so old that his memory of writing them was faint.
At first, he had thought he had simply been reincarnated with memories of his past life. After all, when he first recalled those memories, he was still learning to walk.
It was only after hearing familiar names related to the Demons that he realized he had possessed a character in a novel.
In a hurry, Galahad had tried to organize everything he could remember about the novel. That was what this leather notebook contained.
By the time he had fully grasped that he was inside a novel, quite some time had already passed.
His memory of the novel was incomplete. It had never been a story he had read with great attention, and who memorizes an entire novel while reading it?
Still, he remembered the broad strokes. For example,
[The world will be destroyed by the Demon King.]
The novel had a sad ending. No, calling it a sad ending wasn’t enough. It was a completely fucked-up ending.
[Key figures: The blonde Sword Master, some Archmage, the Mother of Fairies, the Axe-Wielding Barbarian, the Half-Demon…]
It was written down as best as he could remember. The ending was certain, but the rest of the details were unclear.
Below that, there was an explanation written in the Imperial Language.
[The Archmage is most likely the Tower Master of the Twilight Magic Tower. Current whereabouts unknown. The blonde Sword Master is most likely the eldest daughter of the Grand Duke of the North. The Mother of Fairies is likely in the Fairy Forest. The Axe-Wielding Barbarian remains unidentified.]
These were pieces of information Galahad had gathered while working in the Intelligence Agency.
Galahad’s goal was a warm and comfortable old age. To achieve that, he had to prevent the Demon King ending at all costs.
Originally, he had planned to prepare for the Demon King within the Intelligence Agency. The agency was powerful enough to be called the institution that controlled the continent.
‘And yet, I ended up as the husband of the Northern Sword Master…’
Galahad let out a bitter laugh. It was hard to call it a good move, but it was not the worst outcome either.
The blonde Sword Master had the most significant role among the heroes, and the region was the frontline against the Demons.
If one wanted to hunt a tiger, they had to enter the tiger’s den.
Galahad kept rereading the worn notebook, retracing his memories.
****
The carriage came to a stop after the sun had set.
“Please get off.”
Gilburton gestured behind him. It was right next to an empty road with nothing in sight.
“Are we camping out?”
Galahad frowned. He was a noble, the son of a count.
There were villages or castles at intervals of a day’s travel, so he could not understand why they would choose to camp outside.
“I was instructed to avoid contact with the Empire as much as possible.”
“Was that His Highness the Grand Duke’s command?”
“I follow Lady Adrianna.”
Adrianna was the name of the woman Galahad was to marry.
“I see. A husband should listen to his wife.”
Crunch. A chilling sound came from Gilburton’s clenched jaw.
‘He doesn’t like me.’
It was not surprising.
Galahad was a mage, someone they despised the most, and the third son of a count. There was no way they would welcome a marriage between him and the Grand Duke’s eldest daughter.
There were likely countless power struggles and interests at play beneath the surface. Judging by the outcome, the Grand Duke had lost.
“You are not married yet.”
Gilburton bared his teeth in a grin. The sharp killing intent pressing against Galahad’s back,
‘This is dangerous.’
Galahad let out a bitter chuckle and placed a mana-infused cigarette between his lips.
Without another word, Gilburton began setting up camp. His skilled movements suggested he was no stranger to camping outdoors. Galahad silently observed.
In no time, firewood was gathered and a fire was lit. Gilburton placed a pot over it and threw in some meat, adding stew as well.
‘I don’t want to eat this.’
Galahad clicked his tongue softly. He already knew that the people here had terrible hygiene, but seeing them dig in the dirt, handle firewood, and then flip the meat with the same hands, it was unbearable.
“Please eat. It’s Northern-style cuisine.”
Gilburton grabbed a piece of meat and held it out. It was a large chunk, unsliced, with only the surface seared. Blood dripped from it, it was not just rare, but practically raw.
Was this even considered cooking? It was absurd, but unfortunately, he was in no position to be picky.
“Thank you.”
Galahad bit into the meat. A strong, metallic taste filled his mouth as the sour blood coated his tongue. He chewed thoroughly and swallowed.
Judging by how Gilburton ate the same way, biting into the meat and even drinking the blood as if it were a beverage, it seemed he had not cooked it that way just to spite him. Watching his barbaric meal only made Galahad more reluctant to head north.
Dinner continued in silence. After finishing his meal, Gilburton handed Galahad a bottle of liquor.
“I don’t drink.”
Galahad shook his head lightly. Alcohol dulled the mind and slowed the hands, making it taboo for mages.
“As expected, a mage.”
Gilburton emphasized the word ‘mage’. His pronunciation was less than pleasant.
“Yes, a very exceptional mage at that.”
Galahad did not avoid Gilburton’s gaze and met it head-on as he responded. Gilburton’s brow furrowed slightly.
“You should be careful in the North. The ignorant Northern folk don’t distinguish well between mages and the Demons.”
Such a petty threat. Galahad found it childish.
“Do you really think the Grand Duke can’t even protect his own son-in-law in his own territory?”
This time, Gilburton smirked. He was more patient than expected.
“I hear hunting mages is becoming quite the trend in the Empire these days. Apparently, a mage’s heart fetches a high price-”
Gilburton grinned slyly, as if he had never made a threat at all. He was not wrong. Recently, there had been quite a few recorded cases of mages being hunted.
“Don’t worry about that. Believe it or not, I’m quite a valuable commodity. Isn’t this the first interaction between His Majesty the Emperor and the Grand Duke in twenty years? The tension was high enough that people were whispering about rebellion. If something were to happen to me, the very symbol of this exchange-?”
This time, it was Galahad who smirked. Unlike before, Gilburton was no longer smiling.
“I’m a rather important person, so treat me well.”
Galahad himself did not know the full story behind it all. Perhaps he was nothing more than a severed pawn, but there was no need to say that out loud.
“If you’re done eating, let’s get moving again.”
Gilburton stood up.
“Are we really going to keep traveling without rest?”
“Yes, you are a distinguished guest, after all.”
“Will you be alright?”
“I am a knight. I can go days without sleep. But can the distinguished guest manage? The carriage will be quite bumpy.”
Gilburton narrowed his eyes as he asked.
‘He’s sulking.’
Galahad clicked his tongue lightly and nodded.
In truth, the carriage seats were hard and shook violently. It was hardly a place to sleep.
It was obvious that Gilburton’s petty scheme was to make Galahad suffer as much as possible.
However, Galahad was a mage. In this era, mages were more specialized in support rather than combat.
Turning a rattling carriage into a soft and silent bed was a simple task.
That night, Galahad slept soundly, even snoring for the first time in a while.
****
Knock, knock.
Awakened by the alarm spell, Galahad opened his eyes. He had slept so well that his body felt refreshed.
He straightened his clothes and opened the door.
Gilburton, looking noticeably more haggard than before, squinted at him.
“You must have slept well.”
“Slept like a baby. And you? You don’t look too great.”
“…I’m fine. Going days without sleep is common on the battlefield.”
“I see. Well, I’m perfectly fine, so keep up the good work.”
Gilburton’s face twisted even more. He was surprisingly fun to tease.
“Let’s stop by a castle or town along the way.”
“…A castle?”
“I need to buy a coat.”
Galahad rubbed his goosebump-covered arms as he spoke.
“A mage gets cold?”
Gilburton asked as if genuinely curious. Galahad frowned at the question. Just what did this guy think a mage was?
“I’m human, of course I get cold.”
Of course, he could use magic to regulate his body temperature. However, magic that directly affected a mage’s own body was significantly more complicated than spells that simply softened a bed or blocked noise.
“Isn’t Garsetten Castle along our route? I heard they have good coats there. Let’s stop by.”
“Garsetten Castle…?”
There was something strangely off about Gilburton’s response, but then again, he was always a suspicious man. Galahad simply nodded.
“Understood.”
A smirk tugged at the corner of Gilburton’s lips.
Indeed, a very suspicious man.
****
‘It’s cold.’
Galahad grumbled as he swept his hair back. The Central Region was warm every day, but here, it was cold enough to give him goosebumps. He even had to use mana just to maintain his body temperature.
He had not even put a mana-infused cigarette in his mouth, yet his breath came out in visible puffs. Just keeping himself warm was rapidly draining his mana.
The ground was unpaved, causing mud to cling heavily to his shoes. Was it really just mud? Galahad sniffed the air. An unpleasant odor lingered. It was mud. Quickly, he placed a mana-infused cigarette between his lips and lit it. The fragrant lemon scent overpowered the stench.
“It will only get colder the farther we go.”
Gilburton, his eyes sunken from fatigue, spoke sharply. He was now wearing a fur-lined coat that looked like it had been taken from some animal.
“Wasn’t there something about soldiers enduring the cold with nothing but their bare skin on the frontlines?”
At Galahad’s remark, Gilburton squinted. Upon closer look, it was a smirk.
“Even soldiers prefer to dress warmly.”
A shame. Galahad muttered softly to himself.
Just then, a fat man came running toward them. He had so much flesh that it wobbled with every step. He wore outdated high-heeled shoes.
“Oh my! If you’ve arrived, why stop at the outer castle instead of coming straight to the inner castle?”
The fat man wiped the sweat from his forehead as he spoke. Galahad glanced at Gilburton. Gilburton avoided eye contact, as if this had nothing to do with him.
“Do you know who I am?”
“Aren’t you a guest of His Highness the Grand Duke?”
Galahad looked at Gilburton again. Gilburton shrugged, silently saying, Not me.
‘So, the Grand Duke’s side had informed them about my visit.’
Gilburton had opposed stopping at the castle. That meant the visit the fat man referred to was not about Galahad’s arrival.
“Come in! The lord is waiting for you!”
“Is there a soft bed?”
The fat man tilted his head at Galahad’s question before nodding.
“Yes! And a warm bath too!”
“Well-cooked meat?”
“Of course! Our chef is the best in the region!”
“Sounds good.”
When Galahad nodded, the excited pig-like man waddled ahead, his rear jiggling with each step.
“Be careful. Quite a few people have gone missing around Garsetten Castle. Some of them were mages. It’s a very dangerous place for a mage.”
Gilburton, who had suddenly appeared beside him, spoke with a hint of amusement in his voice.
“And you’re only telling me this now? You should have mentioned it earlier.”
“You didn’t ask.”
“Fair point.”
Galahad muttered under his breath, and Gilburton let out a quiet chuckle.
“So, would you like to go somewhere else instead?”
“Are you good at fighting?”
Gilburton frowned slightly at the unexpected question.
“I’m decent.”
“Then make sure to protect me well. I’m an important person, after all.”
Galahad bit down lightly on his cigarette and continued walking.
‘Is he reckless? Bold? Or does he know something?’
Gilburton muttered quietly and made a gesture somewhere.
It was an unusually dark night.
*****
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