How a Second Life Knight Lives

24. I made a contract with Martin. Twice.

The place I was in now was no exception.

Men as big as bears were whispering to each other, their faces close together, as if afraid someone might overhear. But how could that be whispering?

They weren’t shouting openly, that’s all.

I could hear them just fine.

“Prince Jorgen of the Rasmus Count? To me, Prince Jorgen is unfamiliar, not to mention the Rasmus Count itself. Do you know him?”

“He’s a lord of a small town in the Walloon region. I heard that he’s a bit lower in rank to be called a Count.”

“That’s better. If a prince from a prestigious family came as the Count’s husband, it would be a problem.”

“That’s true. And I heard Prince Jorgen is the same age as the Countess.”

“He’s quite young. The retainers must have a lot to worry about.”

“But surely nothing will happen this time, right?”

“It better not. If something happens again this time, it will be a real problem.”

“I heard that the retainers chose a younger candidate among the nominees for that reason.”

The people sitting at the table were exchanging the information they knew, trying to ease their anxiety.

The murder of the Countess’s fiancé was quite a shocking event even for them, living in an age where death had become common.

And they knew it too.

That this incident might not have happened by chance.

So they hoped that the flames of war, which they had only heard about in rumors, would not spread to Kalmar.

Martin appeared not long after I had taken a seat at a half-isolated table.

Even considering that we had made an appointment in advance and that this was Martin’s inn, he was a bit early.

That meant he had been waiting for me.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting, Sir William.”

“Not at all. I just arrived. Besides, it’s interesting to hear the news of the world here.”

Martin shook his head at the bustling atmosphere of the table.

“People, really. They speak too carelessly just because it’s not their business. But he is the ruler of Kalmar. This is not something to be spoken of lightly. Besides, the Count of Rasmus’ family is also related to Kalmar. It’s not just any place.”

“Is that so? This is the first time I’m hearing about it. And Kalmar is such an open place that people tend to talk openly about various things. Despite that, their loyalty to the Count is certain.”

“Well, it’s a family that has been with the history of Kalmar.”

“I just hope nothing goes wrong for the sake of our business.”

“Then let’s move to another place for a while.”

We moved to Martin’s private reception room.

From now on, it was business time.

I had traveled far to obtain the raw materials,

and we were able to make prototypes using Kalmar’s workshop.

But the problem was sales.

I used to be a successful salesman, but after rolling around with a sword for a few years, it felt like something essential in my soul had changed.

Sales were simply impossible for me.

So I found someone to share the stake and take charge of sales, and Martin raised his hand.

So currently, Martin and I are in a partnership.

If we think about selling the stake later, partnering with Martin is not the best choice, but it’s a decent one.

“I heard the trip went well.”

“Yes. We got exactly the results we expected. Thanks to that, we were able to make prototypes.”

“Oh~ this is it.”

“Yes. It’s very good for men.”

I laid out ten green glass bottles, each the size of an adult’s finger, on the table.

A month’s supply.

“As I mentioned, the effect is too strong to take daily. Even young people can damage their health if they overdo it at night, and for older people, the help from this medicine is only temporary. The true value of this medicine is in restoring health. It varies from person to person, but taking one every two or three days for more than a month is suitable. You will see the effect soon. First, the fatigue will disappear, and you will feel energetic. After a while, your skin will glow, and your eyes will clear. If taken for a long time, gray hair will turn black, and you may even see new descendants.”

I paused for a moment.

And spoke sincerely.

“Everything has been directly experienced by our ancestors.”

“Hmm. Indeed.”

Martin caressed the glass bottle with a mesmerized look.

But this Martin, his ears are too thin.

Can I trust him?

But it’s already too late to change.

I don’t really know anyone, and I don’t have any connections right now.

I provided the recipe, initial funds, and the supply of raw materials.

Martin arranged the workshop, took charge of sales, and even managed the operating funds. It was a partnership.

We signed the contract, and the funds have already been disbursed.

No matter what, from now on, I have to trust and leave it to him.

But let me interfere in one thing.

“Mr. Martin. I heard that the estimate for the trial production quantity has come out.”

“Yes. The herbs that arrived have been processed, so we can start production soon. It’s not much, but it’s enough to start selling. We can display some in the store and stock a little in the warehouse.”

“In that case, let’s distribute ten bottles each to 100 influential people in Kalmar City.”

Let’s do influencer trial marketing.

I can’t think of a better way than having famous people try it and say it works well.

“Hmm. I’ve felt this before, but Sir William, you are different from ordinary knights. Very different.”

“Is that so?”

I don’t know how to respond.

I can’t say it’s because I used to be in sales.

And it’s weird to say that ideas come to mind when you train to kill people, right?

“If Sir William had become a merchant, I can’t imagine what he would have been like. One thing is certain, he would have become a great merchant incomparable to someone like me.”

“Haha. I’m not that smart.”

I’m not smart.

My intelligence is NORMAL.

While I was smiling awkwardly, I heard a noise from one side of the inn.

The sound of something breaking, shouting. Screams.

Others must have heard the screams too.

Our eyes met for a moment.

“Let’s go.”

We ran out of the reception room.

As we opened the thick door and went out, the shouting became clearer.

It was the noise of a battle.

“What on earth is this!”

“It’s towards the guest rooms. The first scream was from the dining area.”

“How could something like this happen inside the castle! What are the guards doing!”

Martin grumbled about the guards in charge of security as he moved towards the guest room. I also headed to the guest room, ahead of Martin.

Two men were lying on the floor near the door that led from the dining room to the guest room.

Martin saw them and said with a stern face.

“They are from the House of Count Rasmus.”

I was dumbfounded.

Why is the House of Count Rasmus appearing here?

Although Martin’s inn is a high-class inn, it is a place where merchants or lower nobles stay, not a place where high-ranking nobles like counts would stay.

High-ranking nobles are usually invited to stay at the mansion of another noble. Those who have no connections in this city can stay at the guest house in the mansion of Count Kalmar.

That is the etiquette among nobles.

Even from the owner’s perspective, shouldn’t they know who is entering their territory?

But to have people from the House of Count Rasmus in a place like this, which is not fitting for their status?

If this is not an attempt to hide, then what is it?

The sound of weapons clashing, shouts, and then screams.

It was clear what was happening.

But to do it so openly?

I couldn’t believe it.

Such a thing happening in the city of Kalmar was unheard of in my memory.

In the first place, the Count of Kalmar was a virgin until I died.

These fiancés of hers didn’t even exist in the first place!

“Sir William.”

Martin called me.

I knew what he was going to ask, but I was not inclined to get involved in the affairs of unrelated people.

Count Rasmus, who is that?

“I will give up all my shares. Please save Prince Jorgen.”

“It might already be too late.”

“It doesn’t matter. Just the attempt to save him is enough.”

It seemed that Martin’s circumstances were quite complicated as well.

I sighed and headed to the guest room.

As a knight aspirant, I was always equipped with at least light armor and carried a self-defense weapon, fortunately.

Still, I missed the iron club I used to wield.

With a self-defense sword strapped to my waist, I entered the entrance leading to the guest room.

Two swords immediately thrust towards me.

They were short swords, just like mine.

About the length of an arm.

Short enough to grab the enemy beyond the sword if I extended my arm.

I twisted my body to match the trajectory of the swords and grabbed the enemies on both sides.

After lightly knocking their heads together, I threw them to the floor.

Thanks to their helmets, their heads didn’t break, but both of their necks snapped.

Leather armor worn haphazardly without uniformity.

Old, but well-maintained.

And the same emblem on their chests.

Mercenaries.

Mercenaries who had survived long enough to carve their own emblem.

Not a good sign.

It meant that the core members of such a mercenary group were inside.

I quickly ascended the stairs.

As expected, there was another mercenary guarding the top of the stairs.

Around him lay the bodies of civilians who had died helplessly.

Blood flowed down the stairs, soaking my shoes.

A hand axe flew towards me.

A narrow space.

There was no room to dodge.

The same went for him.

Time seemed to flow slowly.

The rotating axe head, the handle, the blood droplets scattering from the axe blade.

I saw it all.

As I extended my hand, the side of the axe head slid past my palm.

Then the axe handle passed by.

I grabbed it.

The axe handle fit snugly in my grip.

This axe is now mine.

Whoosh!

The mercenary on the stairs fell backward without even realizing what had happened.

His axe was embedded in his forehead.

My hands were stained with the blood of the fallen around me.

The sound of clashing weapons could still be heard.

It seemed Count Rasmus had provided quite a decent guard for his son.

I drew my sword.

The entrance to the guest room was still not breached.

“Oh~ Young Master.”

The maid, half-crying, searched for her master.

In front of her lay the already dead bodyguard, eyes wide open.

And the son of Count Rasmus, somewhere between a young man and a youth, extended his hand with a pale face.

The mercenary in black armor threw away his broken sword and drew a new weapon.

“I thought you were a coward, but you had a trick up your sleeve. Kid.”

The black mercenary laughed at the wriggling worm.