Chapter 33: Rosengarden and the Rose Knight

"Let’s save the next story for later. Bill, prepare some tea," the Marquis said to Göring.

"Whew, you’re a frightening man, Marquis."

I belatedly realized I’d been swept up in Bertheim’s pace. If I’d spilled all the details of my negotiation with Adelbert, I probably would’ve also let slip my goal of becoming a lord and maybe even mentioned the system. Now I understood why his disposition was conspiracy (good).

Drawing out my inner thoughts naturally, without any ill will.

At least I was lucky the old man before me stayed on the good side.

"Frightening? What do you mean? I’m just listening to your story."

"That’s what’s frightening. I nearly wandered into sensitive topics without realizing it."

"Hahaha, as expected, you don’t disappoint. His Highness the Grand Duke would find you worth watching."

The Grand Duke was watching me?

I didn’t want attention from people in high places.

"There are 200 duchy knights with hereditary recognition. Among them, the royal policy is to identify and employ capable talent. As far as I know, you’re evaluated as talent in the top ten," Bertheim stated.

"A greenhorn knight who hasn’t even received honors is considered top talent?" I asked skeptically.

"That greenhorn knight defeated Frost and made Adelbert back down. So there are great expectations for you among the young knights."

"I don’t really want the attention. I’ll pass on more shackles."

I wasn’t about to become a chess piece caught up in factions before becoming a lord. Bertheim seemed to like this attitude of mine, smiling contentedly. A sly old man whose exterior belied what lay beneath. As expected, you should never be taken in by a noble’s appearance.

Once again, I engraved in my heart the maxim to be wary of unsolicited favors.

Today was a day I’d learned a great deal.

Without the Manager Scouter, I would’ve been played like a fiddle.

"Don’t be so guarded. Right now I’m just a tight-lipped old man. I’m too old to scheme with you. Time is fleeting, but having lived this long, I consider it God’s blessing. In that sense, your appearance has sparked this old man’s interest for the first time in ages. Fortunately, you’re as capable a knight as I’d hoped."

"Flattery followed by a favor won’t work on me, you know. Ah, the tea is good, though."

"Hahaha, seems you learned well from the Finance Minister. This old man just wants to ask you one favor."

"Can’t I refuse in advance? I have a feeling I’ll get dragged into something truly tedious."

I bluntly refused, a touch gruffly. Though it was rude, Bertheim seemed pleased by this frankness, placing his hand on mine as if treating a grandson.

"It’s just a personal request, so the decision is entirely yours."

"Sigh—since you put it that way, Marquis, I’ll at least hear you out."

Let me just hear it. If it’s something I can’t handle, I’ll bolt without looking back.

"Do you know anything about Baron Constance?"

"I heard he had a reputation as the Rose Baron and died without heirs in the Burgundy regional war, so the family line was severed and his territory reverted to the crown."

"Right. Like the Lorden family, it’s truly regrettable when prestigious families are cut short. Even this useless old man is living long when such capable people died young."

But why suddenly bring up Constance?

Medieval Knight players would find Baron Constance very familiar, because that’s where the recruitable free knight August belonged, and when appointed as lord, the royal territory of Rosenheim, once ruled by Baron Constance, was often granted.

"When the Constance family was severed, the retainer group dispersing was inevitable, but there was one knight with exceptional loyalty. Günter von Klugen, called the Rose Knight—a remarkable man. He’s mostly forgotten now, but the heroic ballad of the Rose Knight is still occasionally sung."

Come to think of it, I recalled hearing a song about the Rose Knight among the tunes street musicians played in the plaza. If there was a heroic ballad, he must’ve been a fairly formidable knight, but since most heroic ballads were embellished and the subjects often unremarkable in reality, taking them at face value was risky.

"After Constance was severed, no one knows Günter’s whereabouts. Günter’s wife was a girl who’d been my handmaid—a girl I cherished like a granddaughter, whom I married off to Günter. I thought they’d go on living happily, but the world is cruel. No one can predict the future."

"But why are you looking for him now, five years later?"

Bertheim sipped his tea and spoke while gazing into the distance, lost in regret.

"A year ago, before that girl died, she left me a dying wish to find Günter. So I searched extensively but ultimately couldn’t find him. With not much time left before I die, this weighs on my mind. I can’t rest easy like this, so I’d like to ask you, with your gift for tracking. Please find Günter. For that girl who’s still wandering."

[Rose’s Phantom I]

[Find the Rose Knight]

[Reward — 500 points, 500 copper coins]

I’d actually been debating whether to accept the request but ultimately agreed because a quest appeared. Five hundred points wasn’t small change, and it was ultimately just finding a person, so it shouldn’t be too difficult for me. Though the quest name bothered me a bit. Rose’s Phantom?

"What will you give me if I find this knight named Günter?"

"I’ll give you a mansion. Since you were looking for a mansion anyway, I can give you what you need most. If you ease this old man’s regret, what would I begrudge?"

Huh? What?

"...I think I misheard. You’ll give me what?" I stammered.

"I said I’ll give you a mansion."

"Are you incredibly wealthy, by any chance, Marquis?"

"Don’t misunderstand. It’s just a gift I received from the late King. Frankly, it’s a burden to manage and awkward to dispose of. What use are multiple houses to an old man with no blood relatives to inherit them?"

How favored must he have been to receive expensive mansions as gifts? I’d felt discouraged finding no houses that met my criteria and had experienced a pang of envy for the first time, but I consoled myself that I had the ultimate advantage called the system.

Yeah, the system is a treasure among treasures that can’t be traded for anything.

Tonight it’s potato stew and wine. Got to eat it on the sly, Sabine.

"...Could I see that mansion first?"

"Hahaha, of course! Bill, show him Rosengarden. And if you need anything, come find this old man anytime. I’d like you to be a conversation partner for a lonely old man."

"It’s a tall order, but if I’m getting the mansion, I’ll keep you company anytime."

"Thank you. Sir Streit, I wish you good fortune in battle."

Good fortune in battle? It seemed like an odd expression for this situation, but I didn’t dwell on it.

The mansion Bertheim offered as compensation was a grand estate formerly owned by the Constance family. On a spacious lot stood three buildings for nobles, staff, and soldiers, along with a small training ground suitable for drills, stables that could hold ten horses, and even livestock pens.

Underground were a cool wine cellar and storage rooms, and most importantly, a garden full of roses that was breathtakingly beautiful. So that’s why it was called Rosengarden. Plus, Rosengarden was in the wealthiest area of the northeast district of Kisling Boulevard, relatively close to our current house.

Hans and Oscar, who’d come along as attendants, stood slack-jawed at Rosengarden’s grandeur and beauty. Wouldn’t they faint if they knew that finding Günter von Klugen would make this mansion Streit family property? So I deliberately kept it to myself. Surprise.

"The Marquis was especially fond of that rose garden. He used to stroll through it, but it’s become too much for him to manage now. He’s not at an age to cling to attachments."

The old man was 80, so naturally.

"How long have you served the Marquis?"

"Over 50 years. I entered the Marquis’s service when I was 20. Growing old alongside one’s master is quite a fine thing. I’ve already seen great-grandchildren, so I’m devoting my remaining years to the Marquis."

A master-servant bond spanning decades. Göring seemed to regard serving Bertheim as chamberlain as his life’s greatest honor. Would Hans also devote himself to me even in old age? He’s an honest and diligent man, but the future is never certain.

I finished the Rosengarden tour with satisfaction.

The next morning, after eating the breakfast Sabine had prepared, I went out into the streets with Hans and Oscar. The street that had been kept clean had become a dung-covered mess again, and except for Neumann grabbing my trouser leg begging me to take on street cleaning, it was a pleasant morning.

I activated the Searcher Scouter and began tracking clues about Günter von Klugen. Without information about him, the scouter couldn’t search, but since I’d already gathered details about Günter from Bertheim and Göring, a scouter search was possible.

His footprints were found not far away.

Old footprints couldn’t be tracked, but these were relatively recent.

He was definitely hiding somewhere in Breisburg.

Why was he hiding? Had he committed a crime?

But following the footprints, I discovered they led to the northeast district of Kisling. I found that strange but followed the trail anyway, and to my surprise, it led to Rosengarden—the very mansion I’d toured yesterday under Göring’s guidance. This was completely unexpected.

If I’d known, I would’ve searched with the scouter beforehand.

"You want to investigate Rosengarden first?"

"There’s a saying—the darkest place is right under the candle."

"The darkest place is right under the candle? Quite an interesting expression."

Göring opened the door for me and my retainers to enter Rosengarden, then followed behind us. I headed to the basement where the wine cellar was, as the scouter indicated. Göring questioned why I was going to the storage, but at least he lit a lamp so we weren’t fumbling in the dark. Hmm, definitely around here.

I stood before the wall in the most secluded corner of the wine cellar. This was definitely it. The footprints ended right here, and behind the wall, a hidden space was marked. The conclusion was that this Günter had been hiding here all along.

Naturally, Göring, who didn’t know the full story, was baffled as to why I was examining this wall.

"Sir Streit, could you explain?"

"It’s just a hunch, but I suspect there’s a hidden space behind this wall."

"A hidden space? I’ve managed this mansion for five years and never knew anything like that existed."

Naturally, Göring found my behavior quite baffling. On the other hand, Hans and Oscar, well accustomed to this by now, calmed Göring down, telling him to just watch. Yeah, keep him busy for me. I searched intently with the scouter for a way to open this secret wall.

There had to be a mechanism somewhere.

It would’ve been nice if the scouter marked that too, but unfortunately only the space itself was indicated.

Still, with concentration and a careful eye, you could find it surprisingly easily.

Dust had accumulated in this cellar over time.

Even with regular upkeep, they didn’t sweep and wipe the storage immaculately. So if there was an unusual spot free of dust—like this torch bracket disguised as a lever—you just pulled it. The sound of gears turning followed, and the wall swung inward.

"..."

Göring was so stunned by the sight that his jaw hung open.