How To Live As A Genius Knight In A Fantasy World

How To Live As A Genius Knight In A Fantasy World 47

47.

Sensing he was being called, Rohan turned around to see an elderly man who seemed like he might have a mischievous temperament, staring at him intently.

It was one of the nobles who had just been sitting together at the round table in the Marquis’s study.

“Yes, what can I do for you?”

“Hmm… You’re from Eizel, aren’t you?”

“Yes? Ah, yes. I am Rohan, a knight from Eizel. How may I assist you…”

Slightly flustered by the old man’s question, Rohan hurriedly replied.

“Rohan? I see, so it is indeed you.”

The old man’s gaze swept over him as if appraising an object, causing a primal discomfort.

Though he wanted to rebuke the man, knowing he was a noble, Rohan couldn’t afford to be impolite.

In fact, he wasn’t even sure which noble he was dealing with.

As if sensing Rohan’s complicated emotions, the old man revealed his identity.

“I am Yeld, the Viscount.”

“Yes?”

“I am Yeld, the Viscount. Don’t you know what that means?”

At his words, Rohan’s momentarily paused mind quickly processed the information.

Soon, Rohan found the answer and respectfully lowered his head.

The man before him was not just a lord of a territory but also the father of the Viscountess, wife of the Marquis of Eizel.

Having lived in South Korea deeply rooted in Confucianism for over thirty years, Rohan smoothly adjusted his movements upon recognizing the man’s status.

“Please convey my greetings to your grandfather. I am Rohan Elitas, a knight from Eizel.”

In his natural and composed demeanor, the corner of Yeld’s mouth twitched slightly.

A swift change of posture, not considering his own dignity, a skillful adaptability that was uncommon in this world.

Initially concerned he might possess an arrogant demeanor due to his exceptional talent, it was now evident that he was a remarkable young man with a poised demeanor.

‘Well, if he’s my son-in-law, he should have this level of competence.’

Compared to the stiff ones, he made a much better first impression.

Concealing his inner satisfaction, Jajak slowly began to ask Rohan what he had been curious about for some time.

How surprised he was when he heard the news a few months ago that someone appeared who he thought was Sophia’s spouse.

Perhaps even if he didn’t suddenly get busy because of those black magic guys, he would have dashed over in a month.

But he couldn’t write all sorts of trivial questions in a letter, so he just simmered inside.

Jajak’s questioning spree, which began with age, didn’t end until an hour had passed.

‘Well, then, do your best.’

Unlike Rohan, who was visibly exhausted by now, Jajak, who had unloaded the burden from his mind, left first with a face that seemed even more refreshed than before.

“Phew…”

Rohan, watching Jajak disappear outside the gate, let out a deep sigh.

It was not easy on the mind despite just having a conversation; mental fatigue had accumulated.

As he walked heavily back to the barracks, he found two comrades lying lazily on the floor covered with a blanket.

“Oh, you’re back?”

“Yeah. Ah, I’m tired.”

Liberty with knights.

To an outsider, it might seem like an abuse of power, but it was actually a reflection of Rohan’s intentions.

Although Rohan had become a confident knight, he did not want to receive special treatment even in private settings.

At first, the guys were standoffish, but soon they realized Rohan’s sincerity and comfortably chatted amongst themselves.

“Are you going to do that again today?”

From Noble mtl dot com

“That thing, throwing at the tree.”

“Ah, knife throwing?”

Rohan nodded in agreement after briefly pondering Chris’s question.

Despite being tired, he didn’t want to neglect his training, eager to improve his skills and earn feathers quickly.

“That’s right. What else to do for fun?”

“Can I learn that too?”

At Chris’s cautious question, Rohan readily nodded.

Chris, who had never expressed a desire to learn despite watching Rohan train tirelessly, seemed intrigued by knife throwing, which appeared different and fun from swordsmanship.

Leaving Kenneth, who was now half-asleep, the two found a suitable tree and settled in.

“Ah, it’s hard to find a suitable place with so many barracks around.”

“But with all these torches, it’s not that dark.”

Showing his positive side as always, Chris watched as Rohan, holding two silver coins and a cheap dagger, adjusted his stance.

Putting weight on the front foot, holding the blade part diagonally instead of the hilt, he raised his arm vertically.

The knife, having made half a turn in the air, deeply embedded itself in the tree trunk.

“Wow…”

Chris, seeing the result, gasped in admiration.

Being a grade N skill, Rohan had already surpassed 90% proficiency.

To an outsider, it was natural to see such a plausible stance and outcome.

As if it suited his taste perfectly, Rohan handed the remaining one to Chris, saying, “Here, try holding it like I did earlier.”

Rohan took the dagger carefully offered by Chris, who assumed a clumsy stance.

“Try holding it a bit more slanted.”

“My wrist is too bent.”

“Don’t twist your arm too much.”

Despite Rohan’s advice pouring in, Chris’s face, as he threw the dagger, remained full of interest that didn’t easily fade.

A sight quite different from their days of training as new recruits.

Rohan extended a dagger, so sparkling were Chris’s eyes.

“Here, take this and practice.”

“For me…?”

“Yeah. You’ll get a meal if you return it to the easel.”

Upon Rohan’s words, a smile bloomed on Chris’s face, concealing his inner disappointment.

“Thank you. I’ll give it my all.”

Witnessing his childlike demeanor, Rohan couldn’t help but chuckle.

As the two spent time practicing swordplay, the day of departure rapidly approached.

Standing on a makeshift stage, the speech of Viscount Tigrun accompanied by countless soldiers setting foot on the path to Arden.

In such cold weather, they had to march long distances to engage in battle.

The soldiers’ morale couldn’t be higher, yet everyone knew the inevitable fight ahead.

“It’s fortunate the supplies are coming through somewhat smoothly.”

As Rohan walked alongside the soldiers, he murmured.

Though surprised by the provision of weapons, armor, and winter gear, Rohan was astounded after inspecting the ‘special supplies’ distributed the day before departure.

Contained in small, unimpressive boxes were thirty vials of holy water, each the size of a child’s fist.

Though diluted, distributing items that should cost dozens of silver coins per vial to the entire unit without charge was astonishing.

Viscount Tigrun maintained a particularly strong connection to the temples, but the level of supply was almost unbelievable.

Considering their adversaries were demons and warlocks, holy water would undoubtedly prove a valuable weapon.

“Sir Rohan, are they perhaps paladins?”

Chris, who was walking beside Rohan, asked, speculating momentarily on Viscount Tigrun’s wealth.

While speaking louder to be heard among the other soldiers, it seemed futile to Rohan to be questioned by a tap on the shoulder.

Following Chris’s nod, a series of individuals clad in bright-colored robes turned around.

“Well, they might be priests? It’s clear they’re forces of the church…”

The symbol of a red circle drawn over a common cross was unmistakably the emblem of the Arnishian Church, yet their abilities remained unknown.

However, it was common knowledge that their divine power was overwhelmingly effective against demons.

“Regardless, they’ll surely be helpful.”

“Sir Rohan, I’d give the same answer!”

“This guy…?”

Engaged in idle chatter with Chris, Rohan suddenly revisited a question that had crossed his mind several times before.

“Come to think of it, can’t I use something like divine power?”

Despite having used the status window for quite some time, the criteria for skills being registered remained somewhat ambiguous.

It seemed only actions related to combat were being registered.

Skills like horseback riding or taming, farming, as well as daily chores like laundry, cleaning, or dishwashing, which occasionally appeared in the web novels he used to read, were not being registered.

“But then, what about meditation?”

It was a skill that seemed far removed from combat to anyone, yet it was perfectly acceptable as a registered skill.

Speculation was the only thing possible about its association with martial arts, and finding the exact reason was beyond reach.

Considering that meditation had been registered, it didn’t seem entirely improbable for magic used by wizards or swordsmanship by paladins to be registered as skills.

“As I learn the swordsmanship of the Order, could I eventually gain divine power?”

Imagining himself wielding the paired swords adorned with Auror and divine power, Rohan couldn’t contain his amusement any longer and burst into a chuckle.

Even if the swordsmanship of the Order were registered as a skill, there was no guarantee that one could definitely acquire divine power. Moreover, it didn’t seem likely to reveal martial arts that were clearly meant to be dealt with through vision to outsiders.

Suppressing the rising greed, Rohan diligently moved his legs once more.

The journey ahead was still far too long.

After numerous demons had overrun Arden.

Arden VI, the King of Arden, wandered through an unknown forest.

On the day Arden was being captured.

Upon hearing the news of the annihilation of the royal knights and the mages of the Royal Sorcery Tower, he quickly made a decision.

“First and foremost, I must survive.”

Since they had perished, saving the people was an impossible task.

In truth, Arden VI was not afraid of his own death.

He had established his identity as a warrior before his identity as a king, following the tradition of the royal family. Yet, this didn’t mean he was unaware of the value he held as a king.

Facing a national crisis, if he and the royal family were to perish, how much chaos would engulf Arden?

Although he wished to draw his sword immediately and rid the land of demons, it was a foolish choice.

The area around the palace was now densely filled with demons, but there was still a way to escape the capital.

Accompanied by Sejong, who had assisted the king since childhood, and two knights who had protected the king for a long time, the king hurriedly led the bewildered queen and prince toward the vault beneath the palace.

Appearing as if unaware of the situation outside, the two warehouse keepers stood frozen upon noticing the approaching king and knights.

“May we enter?”

“Yes, yes, of course!”

The king’s gaze, filled with pity, passed over the soldiers who were completely oblivious to the impending death.

Although he wanted to protect everyone in the palace, ignoring the king’s advice that the more people there were, the greater the danger, was not easy.

Entering the vault, the king swiftly moved through, paying no attention to the treasures that filled the warehouse.

In the innermost part of the vault, the king cautiously felt his way toward a giant sculpture depicting the king’s battle.

As the people began to question the king’s actions of feeling the sculpture, a clicking sound echoed, and shortly after, the massive sculpture collapsed entirely.

“Aah!”

The startled queen screamed, but the king’s gaze was fixed on the secretive space hidden behind the sculpture.

“…It really existed.”

A place Sejong had brought him to multiple times in his childhood, emphasizing to remember it.

Its true identity was a space teleportation magic circle prepared in anticipation of war.

Magic that manipulated space was undoubtedly grand magic.

The immense mystery of an ability that not even properly trained wizards could use in the present day lay dormant beneath the palace.

The magic circle, drawn with precious minerals and jewels, still radiated a mysterious light despite the passage of time.

“Your Majesty… What in the world is this…”

“Father, what is this…?”

As if forgetting the dire situation, the two individuals, captivated by the enchanting magic circle, posed a question.

“It’s a teleportation magic circle. I only know that it’s a way to escape the capital, but I don’t know the destination of this magic circle. I can’t even be sure if it will work properly. Nevertheless, this is the only option we have right now.”

Upon the king’s words, worry clouded the people’s eyes.

The more grand and exceptional the magic, the greater the shock of failure.

If the teleportation within the high magic failed, facing immediate death wouldn’t be strange.

But as the king stated, delaying any longer would only result in becoming food for monsters or puppets of dark sorcerers.

The moment of hesitation was brief.

Six individuals stood on the magic circle, and in an instant, they completely vanished from Arden.

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