Ron told Sir Ternoar the truth.
It was impossible to claim that nothing had happened when Dane, Zenon, and Rotan were in such poor condition.
Their bodies hung limp, and their faces had swollen until they were mottled red and purple. That was not a condition one reached without being beaten with fists.
“You should have held back.”
“If holding back could have solved the problem, I would not have stepped in. As long as they refused to believe in my abilities, this could have happened at any time. Besides, distrust is like an epidemic. You know as well as I do that the sooner it is resolved, the less trouble it causes later.”
“That is true.”
Radon could not help but agree.
It was difficult to call Ron rash when his performance had been so extraordinary. If he hid his abilities now, it would amount to deceiving his comrades. Moreover, the three of them had attacked one man together only to have the tables turned on them. They had deserved the beating.
‘He made an example of them.’
Everyone was still half doubtful about Ron, who seemed to have changed overnight. Knights were generally highly competitive. They were arrogant as well. The afterimage of the attack might still linger for now, but even after seeing everything with their own eyes, they would try not to acknowledge Ron.
As with all things, paradise did not arrive simply because one avoided a problem.
Ron had chosen the best response.
It was a silent threat that anyone who attacked without knowing his place would end up like Dane, Rotan, and Zenon.
Radon did not approve, but practical considerations prevented him from reprimanding Ron.
He was merely indignant that Ron had deceived him all this time.
“You fooled me perfectly.”
“Rather than saying I fooled you, I think you maintained an excessively strict distinction between private and official matters.”
Radon had never favored Ron over the other members merely because he had raised and taught him. If anything, unlike at home, he had maintained a thorough distance from Ron in public. When Ron pointed that out so openly, Radon found it difficult to respond.
Taken literally, it was an insolent rebuke: Radon had failed to look closely and was now accusing Ron of hiding himself.
“Yes, everything is my fault.”
“That is correct.”
“You no longer even deny it?”
“When have I ever denied it?”
“…You have not.”
Throughout all those years, Radon had barely held any private conversations with Ron. They had exchanged only necessary words, usually in short answers.
“In any case, conduct yourself with restraint. Even if you have earned merit, this is not something others will view only favorably.”
“Certainly, as long as the reason is justified.”
Ron felt as though he had said something similar before. Yet now, the same words sounded like a declaration that he would not tolerate anything unreasonable. The fact that identical words sounded so different made Radon realize how badly he had misunderstood Ron.
Despite Radon's displeasure, Ron was pleased instead.
‘This is what I like about him.’
Radon seemed like the sort of man who would behave only with a knight's stubborn rigidity, but his reputation within the knight order was good. Had he been a mindless, pigheaded blockhead, he could not have maintained such favorable relationships.
“Then what do you intend to do?”
“You said a knight's personal opinion was unimportant, so why do you keep asking me?”
“Because I am worried.”
“Look at them. It was resolved perfectly.”
Feeling Ron's gaze, Dane, Rotan, and Zenon flinched and turned their heads away. They looked as frightened as mangy dogs. Radon had not personally witnessed what violence had been inflicted upon them, but the aftermath was plain to see, and the fear had proven highly contagious. Everyone avoided Ron's gaze, silently insisting that they had nothing whatsoever to do with those three.
THROB—!
Radon's head ached.
He could no longer understand how Ron had concealed this personality until now. They said even a mother who carried a child for ten months could not know what was in that child's heart. Radon had no idea what in the world he had raised. He had prided himself on having a discerning eye as a training instructor, yet he felt like a blind man with his eyes open.
“I understand what concerns you, but my temperament is like water. If I had intended to cause trouble within the knight order, I would have done so long ago. Therefore, there is no need to worry.”
“Do you mean that sincerely?”
“I am a proud member of the Dawn Knight Order, with not a speck of shame before heaven.”
There had occasionally been disputes, but they had been resolved as amicably as this one.
If that was not enough, Ron simply improvised according to the situation.
‘There is no need to convey only the truth.’
Ron did not regard lying as an act of betrayal. Did one always have to be honest? That often created problems instead. Both lies and truth had to be spoken according to the situation.
Of course, a lie might later be exposed and cause trouble. Whether to reveal it was a matter of choice, but there was no need to use the truth to gouge open someone's wounds.
Most importantly—
‘I cannot be certain that I will never make mistakes either.’
In this life, Ron had decided to be strict with others but lenient with himself. It was a small but certain reward he gave himself in return for the harshness of his previous lives.
‘It was resolved well… Was it? This is not what I intended.’
Hmm.
Radon had been about to conclude that the matter was settled when he felt as though Ron had been playing with him in the palm of his hand.
Come to think of it, he had been dragged along continuously since the attack and forced to place his trust in Ron.
In terms of hierarchy, Ron was merely the son of a disciple Radon had once taught and a probationary knight. Radon, on the other hand, was a grand senior of the knight order, someone whose shadow Ron should not even tread upon.
Was it not said that the riper the grain, the lower it bowed?
‘Does the world look like a joke to you?’
Radon decided to sound a warning against Ron's arrogance. It was a truth of the world that not everything went as one wished.
“What sort of knight bullies the weak?!”
Ron inferred the old man's intention from his raised, admonishing voice.
A knight who had learned aura possessed sharp hearing. Moreover, everyone's attention was already focused on them.
A knight did not speak for the weak.
Correctly interpreted, the words “Do not bully the weak” meant, “You are fucking weak.”
A knight capable of hearing that without reacting was rarer than a protected natural monument. For young probationary knights in particular, even if they could not react openly, they would surely be boiling inside.
It was a method of turning Ron into the common enemy.
‘So that is how you wish to play this.’
Social skills were the social pact that prevented people from calling small fry “small fry” to their faces. How flustered would the small fry be if someone bluntly called them small fry?
At the very least, basic courtesy demanded that one call them small fry somewhere sparsely populated. In truth, knightly pride was safe as long as they never learned about it.
Since the elder had thrown the first punch, Ron now had justification to respond.
“I heard that in the Dawn Knight Order's glory days, even probationary knights could project aura. Yet now they flounder before mere assassins. How did things ever come to this? Tsk, tsk, tsk! Time is truly cruel. Perhaps they lack talent? Or perhaps… No, I will not say it.”
“……Are you saying my instruction is lacking?”
“They lack aptitude.”
Ron was modest.
“Indeed! I never neglected their instruction in the slightest!”
“My late father must have known that as well.”
“……Guh!”
Clutching the back of his neck, Radon had to suppress the surge of his aura.
Ron's father, Ethan, had died without ever escaping the lowest rank. No matter how hard he worked, he had struck the wall of talent that could not be surpassed. He had possessed a hopeless lack of talent that effort could not fill and no amount of teaching could improve.
Among all the fingers that pained Radon, Ethan had been the most painful. His regret and sorrow over Ethan were projected onto Ron, and he could not bring himself to say that nothing could be done because Ron's father had lacked talent.
Even though remaining silent now made it sound as though his instruction had been terrible.
It was checkmate.
This bastard was becoming more frightening by the moment.
‘He was still your father!’
How could Ron use his own father like this?
If he treated even the man who had sired him this way, could Radon really lord it over him merely because he had raised him?
‘Ethan, what in the world did you father?’
At this point, it felt strange to say Ron had grown up well, yet equally strange to say he had grown up badly.
The more Radon spoke with him, the less able he was to decide what sort of man Ron was.
Even so, one thing was certain.
His lack of manners was every bit as exceptional as his abilities.
‘It is understandable that the young lady would take an interest in him.’
The young lady, who had concealed her disposition for the greater good of the count's house, and Ron, who had craftily hidden his abilities, seemed strangely similar.
Did birds of a feather recognize one another?
Count Leonard would clutch the back of his neck if he learned of this. How was Radon supposed to report it truthfully?
“The person I am today could not have existed without your teachings.”
“…Thank you for saying so.”
“You are the very model I live by. I only find it regrettable that Father failed to grow despite receiving such excellent instruction.”
“…I understand, so stop!”
“If Father had only tried a little harder, his child would not have been left alone.”
“Enough! Shut your mouth!”
When told to shut up, one should shut up.
Ron observed the proper courtesy toward his superior, then withdrew obediently.
Despite Radon's anger, Ron remained perfectly calm, making the back of Radon's head throb again. One petty act had seemingly shortened his life by more than a decade. He swore never to engage in another war of words with this bastard.
‘Even so, I should not lose my temper…. Hm?’
Before he could reflect on how he had erupted in rage like a fit, the reactions around him seemed strange.
Everyone looked puzzled, as though they had not heard a thing.
‘Could it have been an Aura Barrier?’
An Aura Barrier was a profound technique that isolated a space and restricted sound, possible only after reaching High-Level Expert.
But Radon soon shook his head.
It made no sense.
There was no possibility that Ron was a High-Level Aura Expert. Moreover, had Ron deployed an Aura Barrier at such close range, Radon should have sensed it. He might have lost some of his former sharpness with age, but he was not yet that decrepit.
‘I was being too sensitive.’
Radon tried to end the matter with self-reflection, only to regret it again.
Now that Ron's true nature had been exposed after years of restraint, Radon watched him use Dane, Rotan, and Zenon as his personal guards.
“I am the only one who has not eaten. Bring me a meal.”
“…Ah, yes!”
“Why use polite speech between peers?”
“Okay.”
“Hearing you speak casually makes me uncomfortable.”
“Understood!”
“Speak comfortably.”
“Okay.”
“That makes me uncomfortable.”
“Very well!”
“Comfortable, yet uncomfortable. What should I do?”
What the hell did he want from them?!
Dane, Rotan, and Zenon also had reason to regret things. Only now did they understand why the senior knights never bothered Ron.
Someone should have told them if this was what would happen.
They had effectively stood before a dragon's lair and shouted, “Come out, lizard!”
Avoiding Ron's gaze was not enough for the probationary knights. They widened the distance between themselves and him. They had realized that becoming involved with him as little as possible was the safest choice.
‘Commoner or not, it is better not to provoke a disaster!’
For the first time, their opinions were unanimous.
The comrades who had always acted separately finally united as one body under the banner of the Dawn Knight Order.
“This is thanks to my virtue.”
This was why one needed to accumulate plenty of virtue.
Considering the virtue Ron had accumulated in his previous lives, even Admiral Yi Sun-sin should concede a move to him. Or perhaps not? Maybe the admiral was saving another country somewhere too.
“What a sinful life I have led.”
Radon lamented.
***
Sunlight passed through the window and illuminated the room.
An antique scene unfolded.
Across the table in an office furnished like a study, a sharp-eyed, middle-aged man with a neatly groomed mustache held a private meeting with a uniformed man who looked every inch the typical knight.
They were Viscount Rehalt, lord of the Compein Viscounty, and Gouter Benton, commander of the Storm Knight Order.
“Hmm.”
The viscount furrowed his brow.
According to the plan, word of success should have arrived by now.
“Even if they were knights, most were fledglings, and Radon is old enough that he should no longer be what he once was. Was Blade Shadow nothing but chaff despite its reputation?”
“The incident occurred within House Leonard's territory, so confirming the outcome will likely take time. If you command it, I will handle the matter personally.”
“No. Attempting the same failed operation again may expose our trail and cause trouble.”
Problems between nobles could not be pursued on suspicion alone. Now that the failed attack had put House Leonard on alert, another attempt could easily leave traces.
This operation had been a contingency plan prepared for the possibility that it became necessary. House Leonard might have weakened compared with the past, but it remained a founding-merit house with a long history.
Viscount Rehalt had expected only probationary knights to be dispatched because the destination lay within Torres Territory, but he had overlooked Count Leonard's tendency to be a fool for his daughter.
Then again, the count was hardly the sort of man who would send his own daughter into dangerous territory.
Now that matters had come to this, he had to make his position clear. Relinquishing a share of the mine was regrettable, but when surrendering something, one must show no reluctance.
When he gave something up, he did so without lingering attachment.
That was how Viscount Rehalt had survived in the world of nobles. As with all things, half measures were worse than doing nothing.
“Send word.”
“Understood.”