Chapter 135: Overly Coincidental

So that was how Viktor and the old man, who had seemed to have no connection, had come to know each other. The same went for the other 13 commoners. Most of them were originally from Rosenheim, so once they returned home, contact had been lost.

"If the conversation you overheard that night was true, then the Lord of Rosenheim made himself a shield so that the man who is now His Grace the Grand Duke could survive. So in the end, it was the late King’s order?"

"...I am certain it was Grand Duke Karlus."

Viktor’s eyes were filled with conviction.

And I sensed a hint of madness and hatred in them. There was the same faint whiff of danger that had clung to Klugen. If Viktor’s hatred ran any deeper, would he start stirring up trouble like Klugen, plotting an assassination?

Thankfully, it didn’t seem to have reached that point.

Where Klugen had honed his blade with vengeance, Viktor had chosen seclusion.

Telling him what had happened to Klugen wasn’t a good idea.

After all, the one who had killed Klugen to save the Crown Prince was me.

How had the Knight of the Gale been born? It started with saving the Crown Prince from a French assassin. To honor the names of the Rose Knight and the Lord of Rosenheim, a compromise had been reached, and a manufactured hero was born. My father-in-law had been involved too. He probably wouldn’t give it a moment’s thought now.

"Do you know why I chose seclusion? Because there was no one left I could trust. After I returned to Breisburg, I personally investigated to identify that knight. Even if it cost me every coin of my reward money! I had to know what kind of bastard he was!"

"Lower your voice. We’re not alone here."

When Viktor’s excitement made his voice rise, I cautioned him. Thankfully, he calmed himself. The sound of the rain and thunder was loud enough that we probably wouldn’t be overheard, but caution was still warranted.

"That knight is Karsten von Eldenmark."

Karsten? An uncommon name.

There was definitely someone I knew with the same name but a different surname.

"He was adopted into a relative’s family—the court Viscount Neunil family."

"Wait, if it’s Neunil..."

Karsten Ritter von Neunil.

The name of the current commander of the Grand Duke’s Guard.

The closest of the close to the Grand Duke. And the knight I had crossed swords with at the tournament. I’d heard he was from the court Viscount Neunil family, but I had no idea he’d been adopted in. And if he had been the one delivering orders to the Lord of Rosenheim, then it was effectively an order from Grand Duke Karlus himself.

"The Lord of Rosenheim was loyal to Crown Prince Karlus, but in the end he was repaid by being turned into a shield. They survived on his blood and sacrifice, then swallowed up Rosenheim, and in the end..."

His head bowed, Viktor’s emotions seemed to have run dry. His face looked even more gaunt. He had hidden himself away from the world, haunted by days of deep weariness and a sense of betrayal.

I had taken it lightly without knowing any of this. But what still puzzled me was why old Marquis Bertheim had gone out of his way to recommend Viktor to me. For someone carrying a story like this, it might have been better to leave him undisturbed. Was this what it felt like to step into a quagmire?

"Commander! The stuttering man is here, asking to see you. What should we do?"

That was Anton’s voice.

The stuttering man?

When I went outside, there was a young man wearing the red garb marked with the executioner’s symbol. But he looked beaten up. What in the world? Who had done this to him?

Sensing my gaze, Anton answered in a small voice,

"Well, the lowly executioner came barging in demanding to see you, so we tried to drive him off."

"And so you beat him up like this? Did I order you to bully the powerless?"

"...I’m sorry, Commander. But this man is an unclean executioner."

Anton and the men looked deeply aggrieved. They hadn’t picked a fight with the executioner for no reason. They had only roughed up a man who had insistently demanded an audience, and now they were being scolded by their commander for it.

This wasn’t about disposition. It was a matter of deep-rooted discrimination and faith, so there was nothing to be done about their attitudes.

I sighed and spoke to the young executioner.

"Your courage is commendable. You have business with me?"

"Y, yes! I, I, I’m g, good with b, bones. While p, performing e, executions, I s, studied human b, bones and s, structure, and I c, can do h, healer’s work too."

I thought he was going to suffocate.

So that was why they called him the stuttering man.

"You’re saying that while performing executions, you came to understand bone structure and studied it? And that you can also work as a healer?"

"T, that’s right. You’re s, sharp, sir."

Hmm. I wanted Simon treated, but this man was an executioner. Common folk would foam at the mouth just from being near one, let alone sharing the same room and conversing with him. There was even a journeyman who’d been expelled from his guild just for drunkenly speaking to an executioner in the city.

So I asked Viktor and Natalie if they’d consider letting an executioner treat Simon, and Natalie sprang up and refused outright. Viktor’s revulsion was just as strong.

But Simon’s condition wasn’t good.

His right shoulder and arm seemed to be broken and were terribly swollen.

His continuous painful groans seemed to have changed Viktor’s mind.

"Setting foot in the executioner village already meant we committed irreverence to the Lord, so He will surely forgive us one more. If our Lord is as merciful as they say."

"B, but Father! Executioners are—"

"With the rain trapping us here and no way to reach the hospital, what hope is there for Simon if he dies right here?"

In the end, Viktor permitted the treatment. So all the men inside went out into the pouring rain. The patient couldn’t be moved, after all.

The stuttering executioner’s name was Stock. Apparently it was a slur used to mock people who stutter, and this bold young man had claimed it as his own name.

"L, let me s, send for my a, assistant."

"You have an assistant too?"

"M, my w, wife."

I recoiled at the smell coming off Stock’s wife. It was a fishy, gamy odor. As it turned out, she was the daughter of a knacker. Knackers stripped the hides off animals. The disgusting smell clung to their bodies at all times, so they were treated as carriers of disease.

This executioner village wasn’t home only to executioners and knackers. Gravediggers also lived here. From the outside, I’d thought there were only a few houses, but apparently there were many more deeper in.

"The m, misaligned bones are b, back in p, place. The m, medicine is a s, salve made from l, lavender."

"You’re more skilled than I expected. Setting bones takes serious talent."

"T, thank you."

I paid them a silver coin as compensation for the treatment.

Stunned by the amount, the couple tried to refuse, but I pressed it into their hands.

Viktor’s relief was plain to see when Simon’s expression softened.

"Thankfully, the treatment seems to have gone well."

"Better than well. Setting bones is no easy feat."

I wasn’t deeply versed in medicine, but I was genuinely impressed. Yet, born an executioner, Stock’s talent would never be recognized, and he’d live his entire life in discrimination and contempt. That was a bitter reality.

We all kept silent about the executioner doctor and his wife having visited.

Even if others learned of it, no good would ever come of it.

Thankfully, the rain stopped.

Far from staying the night, the men were itching to leave, and we set off for Breisburg together. Even after night fell, we lit our way with lanterns, and before long we caught sight of Breisburg’s massive northern gate.

After safely admitting Simon to the duchy hospital, I had Viktor and Natalie stay at our home. The men were lodged in the guest quarters as well. Hilda was startled by the sudden guests, but once she heard the circumstances, she welcomed them warmly. I assigned Sabine specifically to look after Natalie.

Viktor lamented quietly that Aseldorf had been blessed not only with a fine son but with a fine daughter-in-law as well. The moment Hilda learned that Viktor had been my father’s friend, she treated him with great warmth—as if he were my own father. Viktor was, if anything, the one taken aback.

The madness and hatred in Viktor’s eyes had me a little worried, but seeing him like this, I figured he wouldn’t spiral to the same extreme as Klugen. The next day, I went straight to see old Marquis Bertheim.

The old man had been expecting me.

"Just back from meeting Falkenheim?"

"More than meeting him. My order fought its first battle. Just a band of bandits, but still."

"First battle? Bandits? What are you talking about?"

The old man seemed genuinely surprised, and I could feel a deep curiosity in his eyes as he studied me. So I gave him a brief account of what had happened. After hearing me out, he sighed.

"I thought it was overly coincidental, but it appears it was true after all."

What did he mean by that?