Became a Medieval Fantasy Wizard - Became a Medieval Fantasy Wizard chapter 47

47 – Episode 47

# 47

When Belenca said, ‘repay with your body,’ it didn’t mean what one might think.

Since there’s no money, it meant filling the gap with one’s body.

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This was a very common practice among medieval knights.

The knights, who were nothing but beings armed with force, used to wander the world and sell their might when they ran out of money.

Velenka owed Ian a large sum of money.

Unlike the modern people who are all talk and no action when it comes to debts, in the medieval fantasy world, the concept of debt had to be physically repaid, all thanks to the teachings of the Celestial Church.

If you owed 100, you had to provide the equivalent amount in money or services.

And if you were asked to pay 120 or 130, that was considered sinful as it involved charging interest.

That’s why Velenka had promised to provide services equivalent to the value of Ian’s rescue plus the value of forgetting her past.

And the only service a knight could provide… was, of course, force.

“Until I fully repay my debt, my sword belongs to you, Ian.”

That was why Velenka had kneeled before him.

Until she settled her debt, she would take Ian as her lord.

#

“Do you know what I am?”

“Why are you asking such an obvious question? You’re a magician, aren’t you?”

“Then do you care where I go?”

“I don’t. Wherever you go, you’re with me until the debt is repaid.”

Velenka said indifferently.

Ian genuinely noticed Velenka’s indifference to his destination.

“Not too bad.”

Even though he had traveled the continent alone for a short while, Ian believed that he needed a vanguard.

Magicians were weak in close combat.

On a battlefield where many were entangled in combat, a magician, despite being a deity, struggled to fend off a lunatic with a sword. But when the same lunatic stood firm in front of him, Ian felt a great relief.

“If Belenka’s skills are anything to go by, he won’t be easily defeated elsewhere.”

As Ian pondered whether he should hire mercenaries or gladiators, the presence of a wandering knight was a pleasant surprise.

“I’ll be counting on you from now on.”

Belenka replied with a brief nod, indicating his intention to treat Ian not as a boss, but as an equal.

“The day has broken. Let’s gather the scattered soldiers first.”

Ian ordered Oberon to assess the positions of mercenaries and knights, instructing him to bring them closer if they were nearby.

“Oh, but Belenka, are you allowed to stay here?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… until yesterday, you were on Grime’s side.”

Just a day ago, Belenka had effortlessly dealt with the Earl’s soldiers. But now, if Ian were to say that he, the slaughterer, had become an ally, the soldiers who lost their comrade to Belenka would be pleased.

Upon hearing this, Belenka nodded as if to indicate his understanding.

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“…?”

“I arrived here for the first time today.”

What nonsense.

As Ian stared at Belenka in astonishment, Belenka casually spoke.

“Didn’t I decide not to forget all my past yesterday?”

“…”

“So, I’m the first person to come here today.”

Ian’s mind became dizzy with Belenka’s incredible logic…!

Certainly, Ian had promised to forget her past. But wasn’t it just the past of cross-dressing that he was supposed to forget? But damn, it turned out to be a complete memory wipe!

“Belenka…”

“Yeah?”

“Will such an excuse… work on others?”

Even if Ian had agreed to forget Belenka’s past, it was impossible for others not to recognize her, especially when she was not wearing a damn conspicuous black armor!

But Belenka was shameless.

“It’s not about whether it works or not. If I say so, there’s no other way than believing it, right?”

Ian shook his head in bewilderment.

He didn’t understand… but if she said so, well, she would handle it.

Ian was a little worried about Belenka, but that concern was soon revealed.

Around lunchtime, soldiers who had followed Ian’s crow began to gather around him one by one.

In fact, it was never easy for a defeated army of this era to regroup.

Usually, when an army was defeated in war, they were just left to their own devices.

They can run away on their own, they can gather on their own, and they can decide what to do next on their own.

Whether the commander is alive or dead, whether they are a knight or not, what kind of command system would be left.

Huh? Did our army lose?

I should just go home and have a meal.

There were plenty of soldiers who would really just go home like that, instead of fighting and then going home for a meal, which might seem like crazy behavior from a modern perspective… But what can you do from the perspective of a defeated commander?

If they don’t want to fight themselves, what kind of method is there to drag them out and make them fight?

Of course, if the hometown soldiers were the same as the commander, they could be dragged back instead of going home for a meal. They were from the same neighborhood, so it was enough to go and grab them.

But in that case, they wouldn’t desert in the first place. They desert because they are confident they won’t be caught.

The disintegration of a defeated army was an everyday occurrence in a medieval fantasy world where administrative power was as weak as a fly.

The count’s army was no exception.

The day before, the center was breached during the battle, and when the count came under attack… the morale of the soldiers plummeted.

What was the reason they shed blood in the first place?

It was to receive money from the count!

But the damn count went and died!

If there’s no count, why should there be any retainers? There shouldn’t be.

So, abandoning the battle they were fighting somewhat advantageously, the mercenaries scattered in all directions.

Many knights were captured, and the surviving knights confirmed the count’s body and dispersed.

It’s not just like winning the game of chess when you capture the king.

The king was the reason for the war itself.

The surviving mercenaries and knights each found their own way to survive according to their own principles.

Some went back to the viscount’s fiefdom to collect their remaining wages. Others turned to banditry, raiding villages. And there were those who stuck with Greim.

Or there were those who simply abandoned everything and went back to their hometown to eat the meal their mother made.

But today, Ian’s crow found the stragglers.

The soldiers, tormented by the sorcerer’s warhorse throughout the march, recognized Oberon at a glance.

“That! It’s not sent by the sorcerer, right?”

“So what if it is?”

“Shouldn’t we go check it out?”

“Damn, what are we gonna do if we don’t go?”

“Maybe it’ll cast a curse?”

“… Damn. It’s freaking scary.”

They were mercenaries who would have scoffed and fled at the mere call of a noble, but ignoring the sorcerer’s summons was too frightening to bear the consequences.

Sorcerers were unpredictable beings. They didn’t know what strange method of retaliation might be used.

Thanks to that, Ian was able to gather quite a few stragglers.

When they were all gathered, the number reached 300.

It was an incredibly impressive regrouping.

“Wait, you!”

… And of course, the knights and mercenaries recognized Belenka.

Unlike the comic characters with passive facial recognition disorders, they were fully living and breathing humans.

After all, there was only one person who wore a black armor from the start, and that was Belenka.

Not recognizing was oddly peculiar.

“Black Knight!”

“The Black Knight is a woman!”

“But why here?”

Some drew their weapons impulsively.

It was to settle the score with a comrade’s enemy.

Then, Belenca spoke.

“Black Knight? Who’s the Black Knight?”

“…?”

“I am Belenca of Wintz.”

Someone expressed doubt.

“Cut the nonsense! You’re the Black Knight!”

“I am Belenca.”

“Yesterday, you sided with Greim and killed our people!”

“I am Belenca.”

“…Damn!”

In response to Belenca’s answer, people shivered, and Ian was genuinely impressed.

Wow. Unbelievably shameless!

“That supposed Black Knight was a woman?”

…”

“I am a woman, and he is a man. That’s explanation enough. If I keep babbling, he’ll consider it an insult to my honor and challenge me to a duel.”

Belenka’s logical explanation silenced everyone… well, not everyone, as someone stepped forward.

He was a righteous knight who couldn’t bear to listen to Belenka’s shameless excuse any longer.

“I am Greg, son of Hadalun! Belenka of Wintz! I challenge you to a duel!”

“And what are the terms of this duel?”

“If I win, you must cleanly admit that you are the Black Knight!”

“And if I win, then I am not the Black Knight. Agreed?”

“Fine, agreed!”

‘What’s so fine about it, these lunatics…’

Ian watched the impromptu duel trial with a grim expression.

This is ridiculous. It’s not a game where the loudest voice wins. But in medieval times, if you were good at fighting, then your words were true. Is this even logical?

But since it’s the way of medieval folks, Ian just watched in silence.

So, if I smash the opponent’s helmet first, then my words are true, right?

hahahaha. This is romantic.

Weak modern people. Why keyboard battles? Why seek logic?

Without an opponent, there’s no argument!

Even the noblest lineage, Lucy, presided as judge.

As Belenka brandished her sword, everyone present had the same thought.

“That’s the Black Knight.”

“The Black Knight, indeed.”

‘Black Knight, indeed…’

Of course, Belenka’s swordsmanship was just as sharp as yesterday.

It was sharp, intricate, and deadly.

The righteous knight couldn’t even pass the 5th stance and declared surrender.

“Enough! I’ve lost…”

“Greg Hadar. Who am I?”

Sign it! Greg!

Greg muttered as if signing a surrender document, like a defeated country’s representative.

“Belenka… is not… a Black Knight…”

Following this, Lucy concluded the duel trial.

“Belenka of Wintz is a wandering knight rescued from the river by the wizard Ian yesterday! They met for the first time yesterday, so he is definitely not a Black Knight! Therefore, he cannot be held accountable for any wrongdoing in yesterday’s battle!”

Once again, Belenka proved his innocence in a fair and square manner.

Ah! How noble a knight he was!

He couldn’t be anything less than a flawless example of a knight.

“Is the story over?”

“Indeed, Sir Decado!”

Ian rose from his seat upon recognizing a familiar face.

It was Sir Decado, the knight of the viscount.

“Sir. As for the viscount…”

“…I know.”

Dicedo murmured with a sense of wonder.

It felt like prying into something one shouldn’t ask about.

Dicedo spoke with a stern expression.

“What’s your plan now, folks?”

“And what about you, sir?”

Dicedo glanced at Lucy and said, “I’d love to attack Graeme again, but…”

Dicedo had three main reasons for wanting to attack Graeme.

First, that was what they had set out to do. Going back empty-handed would be a disgrace.

If they could at least take Graeme’s life, they could say, “Even though we [won], the count fell in battle…”

Second, they needed to occupy the Talien territory to have money to pay the mercenaries.

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If they returned now, the mercenaries would definitely demand the remaining payment for the next count.

Demanding money after losing a fight? That’s one thing and this is another.

Even if the company is in the red, shouldn’t they still pay the deposit? Not taking the money just because the company is concerned is just being a pushover.

But the next count (whoever it might be) will definitely try to pocket the money.

What? The mercenaries want money?

I don’t know, but the money comes from your late father~

The count is already dead? Well, then you can die with them and get the money in the afterlife~

The mercenaries might be a pain, but unless they’re planning to take the count’s family jewels, they should just shut up and deal with it.

Originally, the nature of the world is such. Those with power habitually exploit the lower ranks, yet stroll around unscathed.

In such a scenario, mercenaries, following the beautiful traditions of the medieval era, promptly transform into thieves, looting the duke’s coffers (the common folk).

Then, who would apprehend those thieves?

It should be none other than Commander Decado – who else could catch them?

However, if they occupy the Talian territory and extract money from Lucy, the story takes a different turn.

It’s not the duke’s territory being plundered; it’s the Talian territory!

The plundered commoners might have a hard time, but as long as it’s not me, it wasn’t a concern for Commander Decado.

And finally.

There was the most important and trivial reason…

Commander Decado just found Graeme insufferable.

Somehow, sending Graeme to hell seemed necessary for the late former duke to peacefully sleep with a smile.

“Talian Viscount.”

When Commander Decado called Lucy, she was taken aback.

Accustomed to singing and wandering around claiming herself as a viscount, she was genuinely surprised to receive the treatment befitting a viscount.

“We have enough soldiers, and supplies are still plentiful. If you command, we can fight again, but…”

War is the domain of the nobility.

Without Lucy’s will, Commander Decado would have to return to the duke’s territory with tears in his eyes.

Lucy calmly surveyed the people around her.

Commander Decado and the duke’s knights. Also, the soldiers following them.

Dark Knight Belenca.

And the sorcerer Ian.

Everyone awaited Lucy’s command.

“Ian.”

Count Talian called the sorcerer.

Ian responded with a smile.

“Do as you wish. Count Nari. You haven’t forgotten what you want, have you?”

Lucy nodded.

Yes. The reason I fled Talian’s territory.

Let’s not forget that reason.

“I… want to expel the usurper Graeme and reclaim my land!”

At that moment, Ian shouted!

“Count, you desire war!”