Chapter 55: We’re Cool with Your Debt (3)
Isaac opted not to travel to the Hendrake domain with Count Reinhardt.
Reinhardt had dropped by Seor briefly with a few knights before heading Isaac’s way.
To take down the lord of Hendrake and get back what was owed, they needed solid prep, meaning lots of swords and spears. Reinhardt’s route was closer to Hendrake, so they’d likely arrive around the same time, maybe Reinhardt a bit earlier.
“That’s why I passed on the horse. So you won’t be late.”
Isaac told Hesabel as he explained the gift, while the knight who brought the horse looked uneasy, offering an excuse:
“The lord was just being nice and admiring the Holy Grail Knight…”
“Okay, so I’m supposed to ride this horse, huh?”
It was a sleek white steed that matched Isaac’s new armor. Seemed well-behaved, but Isaac wasn’t impressed.
“It feels more like a noble’s pet than a tough warhorse.”
Given it was a gift, they probably picked a well-behaved, pretty one over a rougher one. Presentation is key, after all.
Then, Isaac noticed a horse further back, a black one ridden by the knight.
“That one?”
It was a big, rugged black steed, a real warhorse compared to Reinhardt’s white one.
The knight seemed surprised at Isaac’s interest.
“That one? It’s a handful. Tossed off a few riders, has a fiery temper. It’s not about the horse adjusting to the rider, but the rider adjusting to the horse. I trust your skills, but…”
“You’re worried I might get hurt and run late. Bring it over.”
Reluctantly, the knight brought the horse over. Even though the white horse seemed fancy, it was more for show than for actual combat, unlike what Isaac needed.
The horse, living up to its size, acted up as if it was trying to challenge the new rider, Isaac.
Maybe it sensed something off about him.
But Isaac didn’t have time to deal with a feisty horse. As he reached out, the horse threatened to bite, but he quickly took control by grabbing its muzzle.
A strange parasite took over the horse’s mind, making it obedient. Isaac could feel its emotions and thoughts through their connection.
Isaac wasn’t keen on controlling the horse this way, but he wasn’t a skilled rider. The knight was amazed by the sudden change in the horse’s behavior.
“Wow, you’ve calmed that wild horse down so easily!”
“Consider it a gift. Let him know I appreciate it. Tell him I traded for this one instead of the white horse,” Isaac instructed.
The knight happily bid farewell, relieved to be rid of the troublesome black horse.
To Isaac, it was now as gentle as a lamb.
“Let’s get going,” Isaac said, mounting the horse and signaling to Hesabel. With the sun still shining, she concealed her face under her hood, moving fluidly despite the limited visibility.
Hesabel had her own horse, so they didn’t need to find another for her.
Isaac didn’t rush, wanting to arrive after Reinhardt.
“Won’t we avoid running into Reinhardt this way?” Hesabel asked.
“If Reinhardt wants to resolve things peacefully rather than rushing into a fight, I need to be there. If Hendrake acts recklessly despite my presence, it suggests foul play,” Isaac explained.
Hesabel, coming from a land of deception and treachery, found these diplomatic actions strange.
“I’m not sure I follow. Back home, we’d just put a bounty on Hendrake’s head or find a sneaky way to eliminate him,” she suggested, sharing the shady tactics often used in Wallachia.
Isaac, accustomed to a more diplomatic approach, acknowledged the differences in their upbringing.
In Wallachia, actions spoke louder than words, unlike in the White Empire where appearances mattered greatly.
Avoiding unnecessary bloodshed was a top priority in the White Empire’s politics.
“A wrong move could lead to a lot of unnecessary casualties,” Isaac said, emphasizing the consequences of hasty decisions.
“Yeah, such a shame to see all that precious blood going to waste,” Isaac thought, initially believing that the Kingdom of Wallachia valued human life. But boy, was he wrong.
Turns out, the nobility of Wallachia literally survived by sucking the blood of their own people. Yep, not just figuratively, but for real. Starting a war for them meant losing out on the blood they could have been sipping on in peacetime.
Isaac couldn’t help but ponder the dilemma between draining folks dry in war or subtly sipping on their blood during peace. He remembered a game ending involving the Red Chalice Club’s beliefs, painting a picture where the people of Wallachia weren’t just cattle to the nobles.
Surprisingly, the peasants got to keep the food they grew because the noble vamps didn’t munch on regular food. This surplus nourishment led to growth in population, industries, and arts. The nobles had their own dramas and power struggles, but they were pretty loose about inviting folks into their vampy ranks if needed.
Well, there were still a few elite families hogging all the wealth forever. But hey, the noble bloodsuckers didn’t exactly live forever either. In a place where backstabbing and mysterious disappearances were the norm, murder was the fancy way to go, with an occasional disappearance for good measure.
Talking about disposing of bodies, vampires had it easy with their corpse-consumption skills. They’d fight tooth and nail over any valuable drop of noble blood, like it was the last piece of chocolate in a box.
Isaac kept wondering, which was the lesser evil? Though emotionally, the Codex of Light vibes seemed a tad more appealing. But hey, that was just his modern take on things. Who knows how folks back then saw it?
Someone knee-deep in war or nobles’ shenanigans might just defend Wallachia as the better option. And amidst all this blood-chugging nobility drama, Isaac casually popped a question to Hesabel about being a high-ranking maiden roaming free.
Remembering her as a sheltered princess in the game, Isaac found it odd to see her out and about. Hesabel’s face darkened as she mentioned something about the Red Chalice Club, right before a distant scream shattered the moment.
And then, boom! A massive log crashed down near them, causing chaos among armored folks. These knights were struggling big time, calling for fire arrows and torches to combat their enemy. Another log flew in, proving that things were far from peachy.
Isaac squinted at the group under attack, realizing they were up against a hulking 3-meter troll with skin as tough as rocks. A troll this close to human turf? Now that was a surprise, considering these critters usually stuck to mountain hideouts, fearing the priests from the Codex of Light.
The troll, even though it was hurt, was already starting to heal thanks to its amazing regenerative powers. The knights were shouting for fire arrows and torches, but it didn’t seem to be doing much good in the middle of all the chaos.
“Man, if there was a priest with some fire blessings or someone who could bring the heat, this would be a piece of cake. But the fact that none of them are here probably means there’s no priest around,” one of them remarked.
At first glance, it was pretty clear they weren’t part of any fancy Holy Knight order. They didn’t even look like Imperial Knights, probably just a bunch of local lord’s knights.
“Should we jump in and help?” Hesabel asked as she looked on, with Isaac watching the scene unfold.
With Hesabel’s special powers from the Red Chalice, she could easily counter the troll’s regenerating abilities.
After sizing up the situation, Isaac finally spoke up. “Those might be Count Reinhardt’s knights. I’ll take care of it.”
Isaac spurred his horse forward, catching the knights’ attention. With the Sword of Judgment in hand, he charged straight at the troll.
“Uwooooo!” The troll grabbed a massive log and hurled it at Isaac, who seemed to have no way out. But at the last moment, his horse skillfully dodged, leaving the log to crash into a tree.
The knights were amazed by the seemingly miraculous horse maneuvers. “I was thinking about pulling off a drift… this horse is more cooperative than I thought,” Isaac mused.
With renewed determination, Isaac charged at the troll again. The troll, taken aback by his swift dodge, swung a log in desperation.
The attack forced Isaac off his horse, but his trusty steed quickly moved away as he directed. And then it was Isaac’s turn to make a move.
He lunged towards the troll and slashed upward with the Sword of Judgment. A horrific screech filled the air as the holy fire left a burn on the troll’s chest.
“Help the Holy Knight!” the knights shouted as they closed in on the trapped troll. Frustrated by its failed attempts at defense, Isaac assessed the strength of his new armor.
Observing the troll’s movements, Isaac took a step forward and prepared himself. With a crashing sound, the log shattered upon impact, leaving Isaac unscathed.
“The Paladin’s armor is really something,” he thought to himself, thankful for its protective miracles.
As the troll reached for another log, Isaac seized the opportunity and struck. The intense heat of his attack seared the troll’s neck, causing it to wince in pain.
“Phew…” After catching his breath from the intense battle, Isaac was approached by a knight who looked at him with admiration. “You were amazing, Paladin! Which Paladin order do you belong to? I’d love to know your name.”
“Who are you?” Isaac replied, curious about the enthusiastic knight.
Realizing he was a bit rude, the knight quickly hit his chest and said, “Hey there, I’m Owen Renly, the vice-captain of the Hendrake Knight Order! We were out on a mission from Lord Kyle Hendrake!”
