Monster no Goshujin-sama - Volume 10 - Chapter 4

Chapter 4: The View from a Certain Knight’s Perspective

Within the campsite set up inside the forest sat Zoltan Michalek, a knight belonging to the Fourth Company of the Holy Order. He was off duty, and the other knights around him were all spending the evening however they liked.

Those who were on guard duty remained focused, but everyone else was acting far from well mannered. None of them were fools who’d set aside their weapons, but any sliver of discipline had long since disappeared. Some idiots even sat in circles and gambled.

Seated closest to Zoltan was a man with a terrifyingly sharp gaze. He was one of those who’d attacked the village with Travis, Edgar Guivarch.

“God, what a bummer. You believe we gotta fall back like this?” he muttered, not even trying to hide his dissatisfaction.

“How many times must you complain about that?” Zoltan retorted.

“I mean, what else can I say?”

Zoltan sighed. Edgar had been like this for a while now, but Zoltan was simply how he always was—gloomy. Knightly ambition and soldierly gruffness were foreign concepts to him. Even all his peers thought he was gloomy. Zoltan was well aware of it himself too. Still, he was a glorious knight of the Holy Order, just like them.

Zoltan was the descendant of a savior known as the All-Seeing Eye. He was also a beloved of blessed blood, having inherited his ancestor’s superpower. However, his ability was very limited compared to that of his ancestor, who’d helped the Holy Church expand its influence by reading minds. At most, Zoltan could read his target’s emotions.

Nevertheless, his ability was fairly useful. For example, he could tell whether his opponent in a fight was angry. By knowing that, he could predict their next move to a certain extent. It was particularly handy against monsters. Also, during negotiations, he could tell if the other party was hiding malice beneath their smile and trying to swindle him, so it was impossible to trick him.

According to what he discerned with his All-Seeing Eye, Edgar was incredibly frustrated. Well, even without Zoltan’s power, everyone could see that. The cause of Edgar’s frustration was also obvious. Zoltan had been elsewhere at the time and had only heard about it after the fact, but the main force, including Travis and Edgar, had found their target, the Repulsive Ghoul Shiran.

She hadn’t been on her own, though. The Wicked Monster Tamer Majima Takahiro had been with her. This was great for Travis, who could now claim more glory, but on the other hand, the enemy forces had exceeded what they’d been expecting. That was why Travis had gone with the safe approach and had ordered a temporary retreat. That decision had put Edgar in his current grumpy mood.

“We spent so long coming all the way out to the sticks and finally found our target. Now we gotta put it off for later? Of course I wanna bitch and moan about it.”

There were three beloveds of blessed blood in the Fourth Company whose superpowers were strong enough to be used in combat. One was the commander, Sir Travis Mortimer of the Holy Gaze. Another was Sir Zoltan Michalek of the All-Seeing Eye. And the third was Battle Ogre Sir Edgar Guivarch.

In combat, Edgar was the strongest. His strength rivaled that of the Holy Order’s commanders. His nature was worth far more attention, though.

“What’s more, the husk of the former strongest knight of the northern Woodlands ain’t even in a state to fight properly. You know how much I was hoping for a good scrap?”

To put it simply, Edgar was a battle maniac. He devoted himself entirely to fighting and had absolutely no interest in anything else. Perhaps that was a very unknightly way to think, but unknightly applied to every single member of the Fourth Company of the Holy Order. If not, they wouldn’t have participated in this kind of operation.

The main force that Travis led into battle today had destroyed an entire village. The chivalrous swords that were originally meant to protect the people had instead mercilessly cut them down. Even an imperfect knight—no, no sensible person would stand for that.

Nonetheless, Zoltan’s eyes couldn’t spot a single member of the main force suffering from guilt. On the contrary, many of them were highly stimulated. They were a little different from Edgar, who enjoyed the simple act of battle; they enjoyed one-sided violence.

Tyrannizing others was fun. Wielding violence was fun. The majority of the force thought that way. Even those who didn’t lacked the disposition to find any fault with such acts. Zoltan fell into the latter group.

Maybe the radiant bloodlines of saviors had eventually turned impure. Or maybe the very thought that saviors were how the legends sang of them was questionable. The people here were so corrupt that Zoltan couldn’t help but think that way.

“I need a moment, Edgar. You too, Zoltan.”

The most corrupt of them all—by a large margin—called out to the two men. It was their commander, Travis Mortimer. His appearance was elegant, but his heart craved fame and he was driven by ambition. Zoltan’s eyes could clearly see Travis’s true nature. So clearly, in fact, that he couldn’t look at him directly.

“It seems it’ll take some time for the others to rendezvous with us,” Travis said as he took a look around.

There were around a hundred knights in the area, but the Fourth Company of the Holy Order totaled around two hundred knights. Travis had split his forces to search for the Repulsive Ghoul Shiran’s whereabouts, and it would take some time to gather them all together.

“We can’t afford fatigue among our ranks. Get some rest while you can.”

At first listen, Travis’s remark seemed to come from a place of concern, but he treated his subordinates like well-made tools rather than people. Someone who craved battle would naturally worry about the condition of his tools. There was no proper human sympathy behind his words.

“Tomorrow, we will obtain great honor. Although, it may be boring for you, Edgar.”

“Hmph.”

Edgar snorted, and Travis smiled at him. That smile would send a cold shiver running down anyone’s spine. There was a filthy malice behind it.

“Our enemy is a single visitor, and one whose ability isn’t suited to combat. He’s not even worth our attention.”

To Travis, who didn’t believe in anyone but himself, the visitor Majima Takahiro was not a savior; he was just an alien who’d wandered into this world. Furthermore, he could manipulate monsters, a truly evil power, so any number of excuses would work. Travis would never hesitate to eliminate such a man.

“Those awaiting us are nothing more than weaklings fated to be crushed underfoot. Let’s trample them into the ground, shall we?”

Travis was sure of his victory. That stood to reason, in Zoltan’s opinion. In today’s encounter, Travis had sealed the enemy’s strongest combatant, the giant spider, and the Repulsive Ghoul Shiran was in no state to do battle. With those two down, the enemy was helpless. The knights would kill their targets and slaughter the few surviving villagers. Not that this cruel future moved Zoltan’s heart in the least.

“Look forward to it, you two.”

With that, Travis turned his back to them, but before he did, Zoltan finally met his gaze. On the surface, Travis maintained his refined expression, but a slight discomfort colored the depths of his eyes. It wasn’t just Travis either. The other knights were watching Zoltan and Edgar. Almost all of them regarded Zoltan negatively.

There was no helping that. Even if Zoltan could only read emotions and not thoughts, nobody could substantiate that. The large majority felt disgusted at the idea of being around someone like him, even though it was actually true that he could only read emotions, but Zoltan didn’t really think anything of it.

Zoltan didn’t feel anything. He lived that way on purpose, which was why he was apathetic to everything in the world. No matter how cruel reality was, nothing could move his heart. That was the kind of man Zoltan Michalek was.

“Seriously, how incorrigible,” Zoltan muttered to himself.

“What’s up, Zoltan?” Edgar asked with a dubious look, apparently overhearing him.

There was no emotion in his words aside from curiosity, none of the animosity the other knights felt for Zoltan. Having said that, there was nothing close to affection either. This man had no interest in anything but fighting and was merely indifferent toward everything else.

“It’s nothing,” Zoltan answered.

“If you say so. If you’re feeling out of it, then get outta here. You get in my way, and I’ll kill you despite our long acquaintance.”

“I know.”

Around that time, the knights on lookout started to get noisy. Knights who’d been searching elsewhere were linking back up with the group. The time for battle was drawing nearer. Morale was high. Travis was going around claiming that victory and honor were a guarantee.

Morale was tremendously important to any armed force, and Travis excelled at manipulating it. Setting aside his personality, he was a talented commander.

Ambition, greed, and sadism. These desires driving the men burned like a blaze in Zoltan’s eyes. The flame only grew stronger and would surely grant them strength. Zoltan was the only one looking at these greed-spurred men with cold eyes. Perhaps because of this, an absurd thought crossed his mind.

Travis had claimed that their opponents were no more than “weaklings fated to be crushed underfoot.” Travis frequently trampled over others, so in this regard, his intuition was right. But was that an absolute and undeniable truth?

There was no guarantee that weaklings would forever stay weaklings. The slightest of doubts came to Zoltan’s mind. It was nothing more than a trivial and worthless anxiety, and even if it wasn’t, it didn’t matter to Zoltan. Just as soon as the thought came to him, it vanished entirely.

The night went on, and the time to crush the weaklings steadily drew nearer.