Surviving as a Knigh Chapter 58 : Chapter 58

Chapter 58

It was another day that began with Harris and

swinging our swords at dawn.

But that morning, beneath a clear sky, Pato stood with a resolute look in his eyes.

"That’s a good look in your eyes."

"Young Lord…?"

Upon seeing us, Pato suddenly dropped to his knees.

"Sir Harris, Sir Karl. I am a petty and disgraceful man."

"Young Lord! What are you doing? Please rise!"

"I am not soone worthy to lead you, Sir Harris. I feared Count Calido so much that I couldn’t even think of avenging my father. I knew that a loyal knight like you was suffering, and yet I… I stayed away from you out of fear."

"That’s sothing anyone could fear. Besides, in order to avoid scrutiny, it was only natural to keep your distance from ."

As always, Harris defended Pato.

And that only made Pato’s emotions surge further.

"You gave everything for my father and , even after losing your arm… Even now, you're still… still… for my sake…"

He couldn’t finish his sentence. His voice trembled, and his eyes welled with tears.

Then Harris, with his one arm, embraced Pato.

"I have been by your side since you were a very young boy, Young Lord. Watching you grow up alongside the Lord brought

joy. Even though I have no family, seeing you thrive made

happy. No one has the right to bla you. No one can hold you at fault. So… please, don’t cry."

At his comfort, Pato couldn’t hold back his tears any longer.

Though he had co to declare his resolve, he wept like a child.

I watched the scene and thought it wasn’t a bad thing.

‘This doesn’t feel wrong.’

Not every story is about people who rise in defiance with a sword and show no fear, like protagonists from tales.

I, too, was once a frightened human being—just one weak soul who fell into this world.

"Sir Karl, will you help ?"

"I said I would."

Pato wiped his tears and bowed his head toward .

"My status isn’t high, but there are a few allies inside the lord’s manor. They’ve contacted

from ti to ti since Father passed."

"Have you considered the possibility of a traitor among them?"

"I have… But at this point, I have no other path."

Pato was, indeed, a capable man.

His gaze now was firm—hard to believe he’d been crying just monts ago.

"Have you decided on the ti of the uprising?"

"As soon as we’re ready."

"I see."

"This eting isn’t safe either. There’s no point in delaying it by a few more days. Besides, you’re with us now, Sir Karl."

"Are you confident of success?"

"No. I’m only thinking of not backing down."

"That’s good enough."

Pato smiled brightly at . Harris, overwheld by how fast things were developing, wore a dazed expression.

"Is it really happening… just like that?"

"Hahaha, Sir Harris. History is always shaped by decisive monts like this."

The weeping young lord just monts ago now laughed heartily.

Harris laughed after him. And thus, the resolution to reclaim Pato’s barony was decided in an instant.

***

"My Lord, Young Master Pato has reportedly made contact with Sir Harris."

"…Is that so?"

"Isn’t it ti you told him the truth?"

"What truth? Even street brats know already."

Mollio Sinice, who had taken the title of lord after allegedly killing his brother with the help of Count Calido, chuckled self-deprecatingly. But he was not simply a man drunk on petty power who had murdered his brother.

"Then why haven’t you told anyone how it really happened? Aren’t you frustrated? The world points fingers at you."

"Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. The truth is, I did kill my brother."

"My Lord…!"

The subordinate pounded his chest in frustration.

"Sobo, don’t be so troubled."

"How can I not be?"

At his loyal retainer’s reaction, Mollio smiled faintly.

"My Lord, may I co in?"

At the voice from outside—a mont ago so relaxed with his subordinate—Mollio’s expression turned cold.

"…Co in, Sir Avalon."

The one who entered wore gleaming plate armor.

The crest on his surcoat bore a white dragon—Count Calido’s sigil.

"You don’t look well. Has sothing happened?"

"Nothing of note."

Mollio replied coldly, hiding his frustration.

"Wasn’t it ti to wrap up the matter of the domain’s taxes that we discussed last ti?"

"I’ve told you before. If the people die, there’s no one left to pay taxes. I need more ti."

"We’ve already given you a year. What have you done in that ti? Count Calido says even his patience has limits."

"So if I don’t collect, he’ll replace

too?"

"How could you say such a thing? You’re the only legitimate heir to this domain. But unexpected circumstances can make a lord unfit to rule, can’t they?"

"You bastard!"

At Avalon’s remark, Sobo erupted in fury.

"Sir Sobo… control yourself."

"How can I stay calm listening to that kind of talk about my lord, my elder brother!"

"Hah. Unbelievable. So what do you plan to do about it?"

Avalon smirked.

For a mont, both Sobo and Mollio were silent.

Yes—what could they do?

Even as that arrogant knight stood mocking him, the lord of the domain could do nothing.

"Do you know how Young Master Pato is doing these days?"

"I haven’t paid attention since he left the manor."

"But he was once raised as your heir. You should keep an eye on him. Who knows when he might aim for your position?"

"I’ll handle it."

Mollio turned his back with indifference. It was an open dismissal, but Avalon didn’t care—he simply turned and left.

"Ah, one more thing. The Young Master apparently t with that one-ard knight recently."

"What use is a knight with only one arm?"

"Exactly. Just a one-ard knight, after all."

Once Avalon disappeared, Mollio’s face hardened.

***

The day Pato had ntioned arrived quickly.

Nothing had changed in our daily routine.

Harris and I woke early to train, as always.

"Today’s the day, and he didn’t show up even once in between."

Pato hadn’t appeared even once after ntioning the date.

"He was avoiding exposure."

"Ah."

Harris was a loyal knight, but not a particularly clever one.

He just nodded and began checking his gear.

"It’s been a long ti since I wore this armor."

Though it showed signs of use, his armor, helt, and sword were all impeccably maintained. You could tell how diligently Harris had kept them in order.

"Looks good on you."

The armor had been subtly modified for his missing arm so that he could don it by himself. Another sign of how much effort Harris had put into preparing himself.

‘A lord who has a knight like him must be blessed indeed.’

From what I’d heard, the forr lord, Baron Fabrio, had not led an easy life—but having Harris at his side was surely a stroke of fortune.

As always, I wore my chainmail over which I draped my surcoat, Léct??o hanging at my hip. I looked the part of a knight in full.

Just then, an old man walked up to us.

"Soone passing by asked

to deliver this to the knights."

The old man, likely a ssenger, handed us a letter and bowed before departing.

[When the dawn star shines brightest, let us et where we must be.]

In this world, the dawn star shone brightest at 3 a.m.

He ant the operation would begin then.

And the place we must be—where else but the lord’s manor?

Fully prepared, Harris and I arrived at a vantage point where we could clearly see the front of the lord’s manor at exactly 3 a.m.

There, Pato was already waiting, surrounded by knights and soldiers.

Roughly 30 in number—a surprising sight even for .

Considering the entire internal force of the manor was around 100, having 30 n ant a lot.

‘All elite soldiers.’

The loyalists from the previous lord’s guard had likely withdrawn from the manor and rallied to Pato.

"Thank you so much for coming."

"I expected a stealth approach. Didn’t think we’d march up to the front gate."

"How can the rightful heir reclaim his place like a rat?"

He had a point.

If they launched a sneak attack, Pato’s legitimacy might be questioned.

Ssshhk.

Pato took a deep breath.

"I am Pato Sinice, Young Lord of Sinice and the rightful heir to this domain! I have co to reclaim what is mine! Open the gate!"

His voice rang out powerfully.

With Qi infused, it echoed across the land—enough to draw every eye to the manor.

"Young Master! The domain was already entrusted to Lord Mollio according to the will of Baron Fabrio! What is this nonsense?!"

"That will is a forgery! My father never hinted at such a thing, nor did he write any such docunt! This letter in my hand was left by my father shortly before his death!"

In Pato’s hand was a letter, seemingly hastily written by Baron Fabrio.

[To my son, Pato Sinice. It seems I will not be returning. Forgive your foolish father who cannot co back. A day will co when you understand. Until then, be patient and endure.]

The bloodstained letter had passed many hands before returning to Pato. It spoke only of grief—nothing about inheritance.

"I will ask my uncle directly! Whether our father truly ant to entrust the domain to him!"

At that mont, the gates began to open.

"Who’s opening that gate?!"

The commander shouted, but couldn’t stop the movent. Pato’s supporters were already within—and the entire plan had been set in motion long ago.

Pato, joined by Harris, three other knights, and thirty soldiers, strode proudly through the gates.

Another 30 soldiers from within the manor joined him. The n guarding the walls showed no intention of stopping him.

"…You’ve co."

At the inner mansion, Mollio awaited with 50 soldiers and five knights.

"Uncle, Father often spoke highly of you. Though you were his half-brother, he supported you generously. I still rember those scenes clearly. So why…?"

"Is there any other reason? Power isn’t sothing even blood brothers share."

"Did you really stab your brother’s heart just for power…?"

Mollio looked like he wanted to say sothing—but kept silent.

"It’s ti to end this."

"Withdraw your forces, Pato. The problem isn’t . You know that, don’t you?"

"…I do. Count Calido’s hounds won’t leave

be."

"Exactly. So—withdraw now. If you leave, I’ll protect you."

"I’m afraid I can’t do that, Uncle. My mind is made up."

Mollio, seeing the fire in Pato’s eyes, closed his own.

‘Brother… your son stands before . What am I to do…’

As he shut his eyes, about twenty knights in armor began to erge from behind him—far too many for a remote region like this.

"Lord Mollio, who said you could let them co this far?"

"There’s no need for bloodshed. If persuasion works, a fight is best avoided."

"Is that so? I beg to differ."

Avalon grinned.

It was a smile that reeked of blood.

"Young Master Pato. As soone said, we’re Count Calido’s hounds. We don’t stand by when fools like you bark. You’ve barely five knights. You plan to die in a blaze of glory?"

"Whether this becos your grave or ours… we’ll find out soon enough."

Pato’s confidence made their expressions falter briefly—but only for a mont.

"You’re not joking… You’re really insane. Must’ve worked hard scraping that trash heap together…"

Avalon laughed again.

Then, a knight silently standing behind Pato stepped forward.

"Let the issue of succession be handled within the lord’s family. Outsiders… should stay among themselves."

He had black hair, a soft-glowing blade, and wore chainmail beneath a black diagonal-cross surcoat. Far simpler than plate—but he exuded an unusual presence.

The Church or Holy Knights typically wore red or gold diagonal crosses. But the black cross embroidered on my surcoat stood out.

For the first ti, the other sacred relic entrusted to

by the Pope made its appearance.

Gulp.

As confusion stirred from the sight of the unfamiliar black cross, Avalon subconsciously swallowed his tension.

"You… what are you?"

"Karl. A Free Knight."