Super Righteous Player

"You're awake?"

That... was the voice of Priest Louis!

When John woke up, he hadn't opened his eyes yet but heard the voice that inspired both his respect and fear.

"I, I don't have any money left!"

Hearing the voice of Louis, John reflexively shouted with his eyes closed, "I'm out of money aaaaaah——"

Louis simply slapped his thigh and let out a resigned chuckle, "Don't worry, you don't have to pay this time.

"Your lord has spoken. This injury was sustained in defense of Frostwater Harbor and should be charged to the public account—that is to say, it can be reimbursed."

...What a relief.

John subconsciously let out a sigh of relief.

Having passed out halfway through the battle, he was unaware of how it had progressed afterward, whether he had incurred any other injuries or for how long the treatment would be delayed. Thus, he didn't know how much money would be needed to heal his wounds... His outcry was just an instinctive reaction to his presumed poverty.

Though he had only been shot in the leg, and it was possible to amputate if necessary, the special techniques of the Silver Baron's Church meant the amputation wouldn't be too expensive.

But the treatment costs for the former captain truly horrified John.

The former captain had been nearly breathless when brought to the church because the battle had dragged on; by the time he was carried into the church, the treatment cost had skyrocketed to twenty-six pounds—that was the price after pleading poverty, down from the original twenty-eight pounds with markup.

To be fair, this price was by no means astronomical.

After all, this was the value of a human life.

The former captain could afford it.

Having originated from the ranks of old soldiers, he could pay if he emptied his savings. Or, he could simply sell his impressive suit of armor, not only covering the treatment costs but also having money left over.

He simply didn't want to pay. He felt he wouldn't earn that money back in the second half of his life... it would be better to leave more of an inheritance for his children.

The militia had no salary to collect. Without battles to fight, they were just ordinary townspeople, each with their own jobs—most of them fishermen. Their only benefit was getting a bit of extra meat during the holidays each year.

In times of danger, they had to take up arms and rally together, fighting to buy time for the women and children to seek refuge. Since anyone with a weapon could join the militia, most didn't even own leather armor.

Most of them were skilled with a bayonet. As fishermen, they had grown up spearing fish for fun, giving them both speed and accuracy.

Most importantly, spears were inexpensive. Certainly cheaper than a fine steel longsword, cheap enough that every family could afford one.

Of course, this was also because Frostwater Harbor had no iron mines and had to import all its metal.

But an ordinary fisherman, if they didn't catch anything particularly valuable, could earn a little over ten pounds a year... actually not a low income, much better than that of inland farmers.

Considering that the Mayor's clerk only earned a little over thirty pounds a year.

However, the issue was that after everyday expenses and taxes, there wasn't much left to save each year.

If a fisherman could put aside one or two pounds a year, that was quite good.

To fully treat his injury, it would cost at least four or five pounds or more. His family could indeed afford that. But once spent, it would mean draining all their savings completely.

And his brother was about to get married...

So, John was very conflicted. He didn't even know how to break this to his family, and at one point he considered just ending it all, having his body carried to the Mayor to ask for some compensation.

Or follow in the footsteps of the former captain, spending ten shillings to have the bullet extracted and the wound healed, leaving the rest to fate.

It all depended on whether the Silver Baron would look after him or not.

However, someone as stingy as him likely wouldn't be favored by the Silver Baron.

Snapping back to reality, John couldn't help but express his gratitude, "I really am thankful to the lord..."

To those nobles, this amount of money might be nothing, perhaps just the cost of one of their meals, or even less than a barrel of good wine or a comb.

One thing's for sure, just the ticket from Frostwater Harbor to the Royal Capital costs at least eight gold pounds.

But for civilians like them, this amounted to four or five, even six or seven years of savings, which could directly impact their family's life plans for the next several years or even a decade.

"Our lord really is a good person."

John praised him, trying to sit up from the bed.

"Be careful, don't move too vigorously for the next few days. Your wound hasn't fully healed yet, to avoid any complications."

Louis cautioned, reaching out to support John's back, helping him to sit up.

With curiosity, he asked John, "John, what do you think of your lordship?"

"A good man."

John stated decisively.

"…Because he paid you money?"

Louis couldn't help but laugh and cry at the same time.

Yet John shook his head and said in a low voice:

"Because even with his noble background, he still treats us like people. He remembers that families like ours don't have much money."

He glanced at Leon, who was still unconscious, his expression rather complex: "He's even willing to treat someone like him…"

"No, I don't think the lord's willingness to treat him stems from kindness. Well, let's not talk about this."

Louis, the priest, shrugged his shoulders with interest and said, "Maybe you don't know, the people who came with you... how much respect... and fear they have for your lordship."

"Fear?"

John replied without hesitation, "Then they are going to be punished—why should they fear someone who has just saved them?

"Unlike our mayor, who himself is a scholar from Frostwater Harbor and grew up with me. His relationship with us young people is a bit closer, which is normal.

"But not the lord. Whether the goods are lost or not doesn't concern him... He wouldn't collect less tax from us because the goods are lost. Whether we live or die is also none of his concern. Yet, under such thankless circumstances, he fought those bandits... Isn't that an act of justice?

"No matter how cruel his methods are towards the enemy, his purpose is to protect us, to protect Frostwater Harbor. The more brutal his methods, the more worthy of respect, because he fights for justice."

John answered with absolute certainty.

Recollections of Annan's brief speech to them—the satisfying, uplifting commands—flashed through his mind.

Cold as the winds of Winter, yet stirring one's soul—

"Most admirable is that the lordship himself, as the lord... led the charge, the first to rush towards the bandits!"

John said with utmost seriousness, "Priest Louis, you must know, they had guns! These carts of goods mean life or death to us, but does the lordship truly care?"

At these words, Louis' expression became slightly solemn.

The tall, red-haired priest slowly nodded, "You are right. Also, you may not know, John... Prior to entering the city, the lordship didn't even visit your mayor; instead he took you two directly to the church. It doesn't follow protocol, and it was only because I happened to meet him on the road that I quickly brought you here.

"If he merely wanted to put on a show, he wouldn't be in such a hurry. Because to him, whether you live or die actually doesn't make much difference... The only difference is, by delaying longer, you would end up paying more money, suffer more damage to your body, and you might even need an amputation.

"He is the son of an earl, and he surely knows that our Silver Baron church isn't exactly proficient in healing. If you had arrived two hours later... you might have lost that leg."

As he spoke, Louis patted John's thigh again and said earnestly, "You indeed owe a great deal of gratitude to the lord, but not because he saved you money, nor because he remembered that you commoners don't have much.

"Rather, it's because he genuinely cares about your life and health... That's why he broke the rules. He deems human life, your leg, to be more important than his own reputation."

The wound on the leg had healed very well; when Louis patted it twice, John didn't even feel pain.

But hearing Louis' words, his heart warmed almost to the point of tears.

His reverence for Annan had nearly reached a feverish level.

Despite being injured, he felt fortunate. Just as when he was first appointed as the captain of the militia, his old man, without a word, took out his own savings for his coffin to buy him a new half-leather breastplate.

No expressions were necessary. No words needed.

The actions themselves were enough to warm the heart.

Although the lordship's demeanor was cold and his age frighteningly young, he was not only brave, just, and efficient in his dealings but also possessed a warm, human heart.

Frostwater Harbor was truly fortunate to have such a fatherly figure for a lord... a young lord.

Even if his stature wasn't quite fatherly...