* * *
Even though he’d walked just fine before, now he dropped to the ground, gasping for breath, limbs limp with exhaustion.
The performance was so convincing, even I—who had walked beside him the entire time—almost believed it.
“This is the monster we captured.”
“You two… caught this thing?”
Count Valuncio, for once, didn’t hide his surprise.
The people around him were no different—eyes wide, mouths agape, probably not even realizing it.
In front of them lay the tightly bound gargoyle.
Even though it was clearly lifeless, some couldn’t approach out of fear.
“Well, we’ll still need to verify it, right?”
“Y-Yes. Apologies, but we must formally confirm that it was indeed you two who took it down…”
The retainers exchanged uneasy glances, subtly pushing each other forward with their eyes.
Clearly, they didn’t believe we did it ourselves.
And none of them wanted the awkward job of disproving it and causing offense.
‘Can’t blame them,’ I thought.
After all, it was us—me and Klen.
In the end, the count stepped up himself.
At his signal, one of the attendants brought over a small porcelain bottle.
“Very well, let’s confirm it.”
Gulp.
Someone swallowed audibly.
The sound echoed quietly—not just one, but from several people, like ripples across the group.
The count uncorked the opaque bottle, its contents unknown, and tipped it over the gargoyle.
A single drop fell.
Flash—
Oh?
A mysterious liquid spread over the gargoyle, then burst into a radiant light.
The blinding flash scattered into countless glowing particles, which gathered again, forming the shape of butterflies.
With soft, fluttering wings, they floated into the air like something out of a magical play.
Two butterflies, glowing with light.
They each hovered over me and Klen, beating their wings a few times before dissolving into the air.
“…It appears to be true.”
“The two of you… really did catch it.”
“This is unbelievable!”
Gasps of awe and disbelief rang out from every direction.
“Wow, that’s amazing. I only managed to catch a single goblin.”
What especially caught my eye was a knight with a delicate appearance, peeking his head out from over there.
He scratched his head but his eyes were sparkling.
Lying at his feet was a goblin.
Was it about the same level as the one I encountered last time?
Our victory, which surprised everyone, was all but decided.
Still, it wasn’t officially over yet.
We couldn’t afford to let our guard down until the very end.
After the commotion died down, we followed Count Valuncio to the chairs behind him.
Attendants rushed over, brushing the dust and dirt off mine and Klen’s clothes, fixing our hair.
…Surprisingly, quite a bit of dust came off me.
‘Ah, right. I did tumble around a bit.’
But then, why is there dust coming off Klen, who didn’t even roll around?
After quickly tidying up, we sat down, and soon hot tea was served.
Unlike the elegant porcelain cups the others used, ours came in rough wooden mugs that emphasized the hunting atmosphere.
Is this what they call a sense of rustic charm?
What was inside, though, was a properly steeped black tea—which was a bit of a letdown.
In moments like this, something bitter and overbrewed with poorly stored leaves would’ve suited the mood better.
‘It’d make for a good memory later, too.’
How am I supposed to drink something so fragrant and delicious in the middle of all this chaos?
I took a sip of tea while Klen slumped over the table, not moving an inch.
Time passed like that until the other knights gradually returned, each with their catch in hand.
When they saw the gargoyle, they all stopped in their tracks, clearly startled.
Their eyes scanned around, wondering who could’ve taken it down—but to my surprise, not a single person looked in our direction.
Some even seemed to question whether we’d gone hunting at all.
Especially with Klen sprawled out like he was asleep.
‘They probably didn’t have the slightest expectation of us.’
While that was going on, murmurs began to ripple through the crowd.
Cutting through the buzz, Fabian emerged to the front.
Since Klen participated, it was only natural that he would too.
What he brought back was an orc—larger than the one we’d defeated before, with jagged tusks protruding menacingly from its mouth.
“Ooh!”
“Such a massive orc!”
“Isn’t that a chieftain-level one?”
He left the awed voices behind as he laid his kill down before him.
His indifferent eyes drifted toward the gargoyle, then swept the area around him.
“……”
His clear gaze passed over us for just a moment before moving on, not lingering.
‘It’s lucky there was only one.’
If he had brought back several monsters like that, our victory wouldn’t have been guaranteed.
After all, it was just him, while there were two of us.
Fabian might’ve thought the same; his eyes narrowed slightly.
But I couldn’t fully read the emotion behind his gaze.
Was it regret? Admiration?
Behind him, other knights arrived.
The knight who had brought down a wyrm had caught a few more monsters, but it wasn’t nearly enough to win.
Eventually, all the knights returned to their spots.
The count and a few others moved among them, seemingly tallying scores with thoughtful nods.
I woke Klen and guided him over.
His half-closed eyelids, slouched shoulders, and sluggish steps didn’t inspire much confidence.
And at last, the sun hovered directly above the tower.
“It’s time.”
All eyes turned to one place.
Everyone gathered here already knew who the winners were.
The count was no exception.
He strode confidently to stand before the gargoyle.
His sharp gaze swept over the knights as he slowly opened his mouth.
“As you all may have guessed, the victory goes to whoever took down this gargoyle.”
Those who already knew nodded subtly.
But the knights who arrived late and hadn’t heard the news looked around in confusion.
“Klen and Adrian.”
“……!”
“W-What did he say?”
“Those two?!”
“No way. One of them collapses from the slightest strain—”
“And the other can barely swing a sword properly!”
Their whispered remarks stabbed straight into my ears.
If words carried blades, I’d already be bleeding.
They seemed to forget that the subjects of their gossip were standing right next to them.
What would they do if someone remembered exactly who said what and punished them later?
Of course, I’m not that petty. Probably neither is Klen.
“Enough.”
At Count Valuncio’s raised hand, the chatter died down instantly.
“It’s already been verified.”
The air fell silent. But it swirled with an uneasy tension, like the calm before a violent storm.
Even the count didn’t seem to have fully accepted the situation.
His conflicted gaze trembled ever so slightly.
Still, he extended his hand calmly in our direction.
“You two, come forward.”
“Yes, sir.”
“But victory belongs to only one. Will you two settle it with a duel?”
“……!”
As expected of a house of swords—there was no such thing as a joint victory here.
The honor of triumph could belong to only one.
Of course, that didn’t matter to me.
‘Even if I am a little pissed.’
I had to hand the prize over to Klen anyway, and I wasn’t in a position to flaunt my health.
Frustrating as it was, and though emotions threatened to boil over, it wouldn’t be hard to lose on purpose.
Pretending to collapse from exhaustion after a grueling hunt wasn’t a bad strategy.
Thanks to the fragile image I’d cultivated, no one would suspect a thing.
Rumors might spread that Kaldric lost to Valuncio… but well, that would just sting.
“Then—”
“Please wait, Count.”
Just as the count was about to declare our duel, an older man stepped forward.
Despite his white hair, he stood upright with a commanding presence that weighed heavily in the air.
He must’ve held a high rank among Count Valuncio’s knights.
He glanced at us briefly, then walked up to the gargoyle.
* * *
