Chapter 221: When Winter Comes

“Geh…”

That was Josel’s reaction upon seeing Donald’s face. He knew he wasn’t well-liked, but he hadn’t expected such a clear rejection.

Donald, now known as Samurai Mask, was active as an adventurer in a town on the outskirts of the baron’s territory. When an unpopular former superior showed up with his boss in tow, he knew it spelled trouble. No, he was certain of it.

“We’re going to deal with some bandits. Come with us.”

“No, thanks.”

Josel felt cornered. To be refused so clearly left him feeling irritated.

“Why not? Aren’t you supposed to be a champion of justice? This is a fight to eliminate bandits and protect the peace of the people.”

“Well, yes, I suppose it’s very commendable. But I’m already an adventurer in the baron’s territory. Maintaining order in the Count’s territory is your job, isn’t it?”

“…You understand, and yet you say that?”

“Because the knight order is useless.”

Donald had once been part of that incompetent knight order, but now he was completely detached from it. Josel glared at him with disdain.

“Josel, how long are you going to play around?” 

A white-haired old man who had been standing behind them spoke up. Despite his age, he moved with grace and agility. Donald couldn’t fully gauge the old man’s strength, but he understood that picking a fight with him would be unwise.

Josel had hoped to persuade Donald on his own, but he had realized that he lacked the charisma. He took off his backpack and pulled out a letter. It was a formal and impressive-looking document sealed with wax.

Donald, looking puzzled, received the letter and noticed the seal.

“Oh, this is from Lutz-sama…”

He was moved. Donald noticed the stark difference in Josel’s reaction compared to his own. However, for some reason, Donald didn’t immediately try to read it.

“What’s wrong?”

“Well, it’s just that I received this letter from Lutz-sama, and it seems a waste to break the seal…”

I heard he worships his benefactor, Lutz, but it seems he’s taken it a bit too far.

Donald watched as Gerhardt snatched the letter from his hand and promptly broke the seal.

“Oh!”

“There, now read it.”

Donald, with his distinctive face marked by scars and burns, took the letter back from Gerhardt and opened it on the spot.

The letter wasn’t very formal. The handwriting was messy, and there were spelling mistakes here and there.

But upon closer inspection, Lutz wasn’t a noble or the heir to a merchant family; he was a blacksmith. Just being able to read and write to some extent was remarkable. Donald felt touched that Lutz had taken the time to write a letter for him, even if it was poorly done.

And there was something else in the letter that caught his attention.

“A certain old man has lost his family and has become despondent…”

This didn’t seem like someone else’s problem to Donald.

He recalled the day Dennis, the merchant he lodged with, had come to him looking distraught. Surely, this old man wanted to cry, to scream, to ask for help. But he had no one to turn to.

…Isn’t that what Samurai Mask fights for?

Donald reached into his pocket and pulled out a mask that covered half of his face. It was a magnificent Hannya mask crafted by the renowned artisan Patrick.

“I have just heard the voice of the innocent people’s silent cries!”

Josel and Gerhardt looked at Samurai Mask with inexplicable expressions.

“What’s he saying?” argued the adult part of their minds.

“He might look kind of cool,” screamed the childish part.

Putting on the mask and raising his face, Donald, no, Samurai Mask, drew his sword from his waist and held it up to the sky. Lutz’s masterpiece, “Mumei,” shone brilliantly in the sunlight.

“Can you do it, Donald?”

“…I really hate that side of you.”

Josel’s incomprehensible remark made Samurai Mask grimace beneath his mask as he sheathed his sword. Even Gerhardt chuckled awkwardly.

“Josel, that was your fault.”

“Huh…?”

Josel stood trembling as his teacher chastised him. Ignoring the uncouth man, Gerhardt extended his right hand to Samurai Mask.

“I’m Gerhardt, the sorcerer in the service of Count Zander. Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Samurai Mask. I entrust my back to you, if only for a moment.”

They shook hands firmly. From the pressure he felt in that grip, Samurai Mask knew Gerhardt wasn’t just anyone. It seemed like they were in for an enjoyable fight.

“Hey, Donald… Samurai Mask. Can I ask you something?”

“As long as it’s not about my identity.”

Ignoring Samurai Mask’s unfunny joke, Josel continued.

“Are the knights in the baron’s territory, um, competent?”

Though his words lacked conviction, Samurai Mask understood their meaning accurately.

“We have capable individuals. We don’t have a family tradition that requires us to take care of our vassals as much as Count Zander’s family does, and if a knight is lazy, he will be kicked out.”

“It’s annoying to hear that from a former knight of the Count…”

“But well, we have our own issues as well…”

Perhaps feeling reluctant to expose his family’s shame, Samurai Mask scratched his head and averted his gaze before continuing.

“We’re short on funds. All the knights are poor, and the equipment we’re provided with is like what adventurers use, just leather armor. Almost everyone has side jobs to make ends meet.”

Josel and Gerhardt exchanged glances upon hearing the harsh reality. They wanted to say it was a joke, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“During the incident with the giant orc some time ago, there were many voices within the knight order wanting to go and subdue it. However, due to various issues such as expenses, they couldn’t go in the end.”

“You seem to know a lot about it.”

“After that, knights from the baron’s territory came to apologize and thank me. ‘We’re sorry for the trouble, and thank you for your help,’ they said.”

Money, money, money. It’s an unavoidable fact of life. Samurai Mask shook his head heavily and then clapped his hands to lighten the mood.

“I’ve talked too much. Let’s go. If we pile up the heads of the bandits, that old man will surely regain his spirits!”

Samurai Mask said before running back to his lodging to borrow a horse. Gerhardt watched his retreating figure with a wistful smile.

“It’s a shame we couldn’t recruit him into the Second Knight Order.”

“Yes, he’s surely needed here.”

The dry winter wind tousled their hair.

Amidst the cold, a faint breath of spring could be felt.

Previous chapter | TOC | Next chapter