Surviving as a Knight in a Trash Game

“...”

Word must have spread that the wanted criminals, Jackson and his crew, had been dealt with. Even as Karl followed Roberto, his expression remained far from bright.

He often got dragged into these kinds of bothersome situations.

There was even a time, right after he fell into this world, when he sought out such trouble on his own because he didn’t know what else to do.

Looking back, it had all been utterly pointless.

“This way.”

Following the guidance of the knight named Roberto, Karl entered the place where the daughter of the Tennesse lord awaited.

“Nice to meet you, sir knight. I am Selena of House Tennesse.”

“May the glory of the gods be with the lady of House Tennesse. I am Karl, a free knight.”

“That’s a greeting I haven’t heard in a very long time.”

At Karl’s curt yet religiously formal greeting, a strange glint flickered in the lady’s eyes before vanishing.

“Can you perhaps guess why I’ve asked for you, Sir Karl?”

“I do not.”

“You don’t speak much, do you?”

“Perhaps.”

Compared to the average woman in this world, the woman before him was easily twice the size.

“Mind your manners.”

Roberto warned Karl for speaking so bluntly.

“If that’s a problem, I’ll be leaving.”

“No, it’s fine. Roberto, that’s enough.”

Despite Karl’s rather cold tone, the noble lady dismissed her knight without concern.

“Your business?”

“In truth, I’m in a rather troubling situation.”

“What sort of situation?”

“A land war between us and House Bolido is about to break out. My father is worried for my safety, so he plans to send me to the Fresco Monastery.”

Karl didn’t bother to ask for further details.

In this world, it was common for noble daughters to be sent to monasteries to manage their bodies and minds before being married off.

The woman before him seemed to be using the monastery as a refuge from the land war.

Since monasteries were neutral zones where combat was forbidden, her safety would be guaranteed.

“Please escort me to the Fresco Monastery. As compensation, I offer this.”

In her hand was a slip—a check issued by the Continental Bank.

At a glance, it was for 20 gold.

To Karl, that amount roughly equated to 20 million won in Korean currency.

Considering he currently had barely more than 1 gold to his name, it was no small sum.

And such a high fee also meant the job came with significant danger.

One clear lesson Karl had learned while living here was that getting involved in ambiguous matters meant long-lasting headaches.

Even jobs that looked simple often weren’t—and when something didn’t even appear straightforward from the start, it was guaranteed to be messy.

“…I offer 30 gold.”

Sensing rejection from Karl’s expression, the noble lady added another 10-gold check to the first.

Karl, who hadn’t flinched at the initial 20 gold, now paused in thought at the total of 30.

Thirty gold was no trivial amount.

“It’s 30 gold. And the monastery isn’t that far from here, right?”

“No. I still refuse.”

As expected, it was the noble lady who was taken aback by Karl’s firm refusal.

“Please reconsider. I already have a knight escorting me. With you joining, there’d be two of you and only one of me to protect. Wouldn’t that make things safer?”

“Well, not necessarily.”

In this world, it wasn’t uncommon for people to strap on a sword, put on some armor, and call themselves knights.

Of course, their skills were barely above that of a foot soldier, so a proper sword clash would quickly expose them.

As Karl casually swept his gaze over Roberto, the knight’s face stiffened.

“My lady, he’s a nameless drifter. There’s no reason for you to go this far.”

Ssshh.

The noble lady raised her hand, and Roberto fell silent.

“No matter how many times you ask, I’m not interested.”

It was the moment Karl turned his back after those words—

“Forty gold!”

The lady of House Tennesse shouted just as Karl turned to leave.

At that moment, his body froze stiff.

The lady assumed it was the effect of her 40-gold offer.

‘Why…?’

But Karl couldn't turn back.

Though she couldn’t see it, his face was frozen as if carved from stone.

“If you agree to escort me, I’ll pay 40 gold. But only after you prove your skills in a duel with Roberto.”

“My lady!”

Regardless of Roberto’s reaction, the noble lady stared firmly at Karl’s back.

Meanwhile, Karl remained frozen like a statue, making no move to turn around.

[Progress: 0.1%]

[Escort the Lady of House Tennesse]

Karl stood dazed before the message window that had appeared in front of him.

It felt like the clock that had been stopped for fifteen years had suddenly started ticking again.

‘Why…’

The lady beside him kept speaking, but none of it reached Karl’s ears.

Then, suddenly, he drew his sword.

Shiiing.

It was truly in an instant.

The time it took for Karl’s blade to reach the lady’s neck—

“Ah…!”

Thud.

The noble lady, who had been speaking so confidently just moments ago, collapsed in fear, her legs giving out beneath her.

After what felt like an eternity of frozen time, the sword that had been at her neck was already back in its sheath.

“…It seems I’ve made a terrible mistake. Sir Karl… are you a Superior?”

In this world, players were often categorized by sword skill levels.

First were users who could at least move the sword without being dragged by it.

Then came Experts—those skilled enough to move their blade freely.

Next were Superiors—knights who could channel energy into their sword and wield it.

Finally, there were Masters—those who could release sword energy in physical form.

There were only ten Masters across the entire continent.

A Superior was already an extremely rare elite in a rural territory like this.

Of course, neither the kneeling lady nor the low-tier Expert-level Roberto could possibly distinguish between a Superior and a Master.

They simply guessed based on Karl’s movements, which were beyond comprehension.

“Are you alright, my lady?!”

Roberto rushed to the fallen noblewoman.

“How dare you! No matter your skill, to do such a thing to the daughter of a domain lord is not befitting a knight!”

Smirk.

Karl let out a small laugh, amused by Roberto’s talk of knightly honor—as if out of a chivalric novel.

Then he turned away.

“When do we leave?”

“Tomorrow morning at seven.”

“I’ll be there.”

With that brief exchange, Karl vanished from their sight.

“My lady… are you sure about this? We don’t even know his origin or real name. He might be from Bolido.”

“…There’s no other choice. I must get to the Fresco Monastery somehow. And besides, he’s definitely not with Bolido.”

Clenching her teeth, the lady stood up.

Her expression was determined, and seeing that, Roberto also tightened his grip on his hands—but there was nothing more he could do.

***

Fifteen years.

Fifteen years of falling into this world without reason, and all he had seen was the prologue.

He had killed bandits, fought in battles, trained to grow stronger, taken on requests and completed them.

Thinking it was an RPG, he had tried everything.

He had faced death dozens of times trying to push forward a storyline stuck at zero percent.

And yet, in all those long years, the progress bar had never once moved—until now.

“…What the hell.”

It was full of things he couldn’t understand.

Why, of all things, did that noble lady’s request have to be the start of the progress count?

Even though something he had once waited and wandered for had finally begun, Karl felt no joy.

The time he had spent in this world was far too long for that.

And the years he had lived through had been anything but easy.

[When the story ends, you may have one wish granted.]

That single sentence that appeared at the end of the prologue had driven him all those years.

Back then, he had desperately wanted to return.

To a place where he didn’t have to kill anyone, where he didn’t have to fear being murdered in the night.

To that peaceful and safe world—with cold beer, bitter soju, and delivery apps.

What about now?

That simple question momentarily brought Karl’s thoughts to a halt.

Could he return?

He had killed countless people.

His body was steeped in the scent of blood—could he really return and live a normal life?

Karl quietly raised his head to the sky.

The two moons were still there.

He decided to set aside the thinking for now, and follow the story that had finally begun to flow.

With his thoughts collected, Karl went around seeking crowded places, flicking coins from his pocket.

The coins he scattered flew toward bards, storytellers, liquor vendors, and butchers—people who moved in and out of the public square.

“So basically, that greedy bastard Lord Bolido is laying the groundwork to swallow up the Tennesse family, right?”

“You’re mistaken. I’ve heard that Baron Seymour of Bolido isn’t such a greedy man. That’s why no one knows the exact reason for the land war, isn’t it?”

The storytellers eagerly accepted Karl’s coins and began chattering about everything they’d heard.

Their stories were often exaggerated and sometimes incoherent, but if you listened to enough people, common threads started to appear.

And in this world without the internet, without even newspapers, information was built by piecing together such rumors.

In summary, a group calling themselves a Free Knights Order had joined forces with Bolido, a neighboring domain, and were likely planning to attack the Tennesse domain—specifically, the lands belonging to Lady Selena.

Their numbers were said to be around ten.

In battles between small territories, ten knights made a significant difference.

The Tennesse family had four knights in total. Bolido had five, and with ten free knights joining them, the difference was clear.

On top of that, one of Tennesse’s knights was currently here, escorting Selena.

After the emperor’s death, power in the continent had been distributed among the local feudal lords.

Everyone was eager to expand their territory—it was a common sight.

As territorial skirmishes among minor lords became more frequent, knights—who had once been mere armed vassals loyal to their lords—gained increasing power.

A knight with skill and many loyal subordinates could become far more influential than some middling rural noble.

Knight orders composed of such capable knights needed no explanation.

Currently, the continent had three knight orders claiming to uphold justice (no matter their true motives), five orders that did anything for personal gain, and five large knight orders that claimed neutrality.

Besides those, numerous small knight orders had risen and fallen.

Some were founded by knights who had once followed the emperor in his conquest wars and, having nowhere to go after his death, turned to life as free knights.

Karl grabbed one of the storytellers and placed a coin in his hand.

“No one knows exactly why Baron Seymour of Bolido is starting this war. The two domains had no history of bad blood, as far as I know.

The most believable story is that Count Calido, a border lord, suggested they split the profits if Tennesse were taken.”

“Have you heard anything about the free knights helping Bolido?”

“Not all of them. But there’s a rumor that one of those so-called free knights has ties to Count Calido’s house.

Word is, he once served in the Holy Knights alongside Count Calido and slew dozens of heretics in the Eastern Continent.

If he’s connected to Calido, he’s no ordinary knight—even as a free knight.”

Unlike Baron Seymour of Bolido, who had no notable history, Count Calido was a seasoned member of the Holy Knights who had fought for many years in the Eastern Continent before returning.

When he came back to the West Continent, many Holy Knights followed him and became his subordinates.

“So the conclusion is: under Count Calido’s direction, Baron Bolido plans to swallow Tennesse whole.”

Karl tossed another coin to the last storyteller who had given him useful information.

The man accepted the coin, bowed deeply, and left.

Once alone, Karl sat down and began organizing the information he had just heard.

Selena’s mother died giving birth to her. Baron Vito of Tennesse seems to care for his daughter quite a bit.

Was going to the monastery really just for her safety?

This world had many similarities to Earth’s medieval period.

Feudal lords and the church held power.

The emperor was dead, but the pope still lived.

However, the pope couldn’t wield power freely over the West Continent—the feudal lords were simply too powerful.

Even so, they couldn’t ignore the church’s influence either.

The church and monasteries educated the people, provided spiritual guidance, and helped suppress unrest.

While the church could not directly intervene in territorial wars, it had enough power to prevent unjust massacres or reckless land grabs.

Karl’s thoughts were beginning to take shape.

Forty gold, huh…

Now that he saw the full picture, it was not a lot of money.

If things went poorly, he could get swept up in a territorial war.

And the free knights working with Bolido—who knew what sort they were?

They might be tied more deeply to Count Calido.

Karl had once fought alongside Calido in the Eastern Continent.

Since returning to the West, Calido’s influence had grown.

A man who had shamelessly revealed his greed under the banner of the holy war now held the rank of border count and had all but taken over the surrounding region.

He was even indirectly protected by the Holy Knights, and tales of his greed were widespread.

“Sir Karl, here’s the bounty we received for turning in Jackson’s gang.”

As Karl sipped his drink and sorted his thoughts, Sancho returned from the local magistrate and sat across from him.

“Come with me.”

“…Huh?”

Sancho, who had just gotten back from town, blinked at Karl’s back as he was abruptly summoned.

“Damn it… we were just about to part ways and go down our own paths…”

Sancho muttered to himself, but his body followed Karl to the training yard before he even realized it.

“Take the stance I taught you before.”

As soon as they arrived at the yard, Karl gave the order.

Sancho didn’t complain—he moved lightly and began preparing himself.

His weapons were a rapier and a main gauche—a rather unusual combination.

In this world, knights and their squires mainly used longswords.

Rapiers were weapons that only appeared in Earth’s late medieval period, and were rarely seen on this continent.

Occasionally, some knights used them to pierce chainmail, but they were mostly treated as noblewomen’s weapons—half for self-defense, half for show.

“Not bad.”

Sancho, swinging his blades in position, scratched the back of his head with a sheepish smile at Karl’s gruff praise.

“If you properly link the rapier and main gauche and use your footwork to minimize direct clashes, you can hold your own in real combat.”

It was quite a long piece of advice.

Karl wasn’t someone who often gave kind instruction, so Sancho’s eyes welled with emotion.

“You could’ve taken care of Jackson’s gang yourself if you’d really wanted to.”

“….”

Surprisingly, Sancho didn’t flap his mouth like he usually did.

Even his always-cheerful face looked somber.

“If you’re going to wield a sword, do it properly. If not, drop it completely.”

“If I get the chance! I’ll definitely come find you again.”

Karl didn’t reply.

He simply turned around and headed back to his lodging.

Watching Karl walk away, Sancho gave a deep bow, sincerely, rapier and main gauche still in hand.

Sancho had been saved in the Eastern Continent, and traveled with Karl for nearly a year before arriving here.

In that time, he had learned swordsmanship and various other skills from Karl.

There had been plenty of unfair, frustrating moments, but all in all, he owed Karl far more than he could repay.

Sancho truly wished that, if they ever met again in the future, he would be able to return that favor in full.

***

The next morning, two horses carrying Karl and Roberto, and one carriage carrying Selena and her maid, set off down the main road.

Seven days to Fresco.

It was a short journey, considering he was being paid forty gold.

Assuming nothing happened, that is.

Karl quietly looked up at the sky.

The weather was dreary and overcast.