“Just look at him. He’s clearly an evil sorcerer. There’s no need for further discussion—execution it is. I’ll personally take his head.”
“As Sir Helford says, merely wandering around Cromwell Forest is a crime worthy of execution. When he was first found, a horde of orcs from the forest was following him. Only an evil sorcerer could provoke such a thing. As a knight, I cannot tolerate someone who defies the Lord’s providence with foul magic. Execution is the only option.”
As soon as the impulsive Sir Helford finished speaking, Sir Einse, a knight devoted to chivalry, promptly chimed in agreement.
“Hmm…”
Baron Wayne Frederick nodded, scanning the room.
Beheading, as Helford suggested, felt a bit too crude. As was customary, execution would be by hanging or burning at the stake.
Though the stranger’s appearance was distinct from theirs, the difference leaned more toward the ominous than the intriguing. His jet-black hair and eyes were unlike anything they’d ever seen. Black, to them, was not a color associated with blessings.
“Let’s hold a trial tomorrow and proceed with hanging. He can’t even speak properly to defend himself, stammering as he does. Moreover, he has no way to prove his identity. There’s no need to escalate this to a diocesan trial.”
{ TL : diocesan trial are trials conducted by the Christian church }
The calm Sir Lawrence, one of the domain’s knights, offered his opinion. His words prompted Baron Frederick to nod in final agreement.
At that moment, a clear and slightly high-pitched voice interjected.
“What if he’s not an evil sorcerer but a foreigner of noble lineage?”
All eyes turned toward the voice’s origin. Standing there, composed, was Roselia Frederick, the baron’s daughter.
“Yes, his black hair and eyes are certainly ominous. But do you recall the bard, Lata Leopold, who briefly stayed in our domain a few years ago?”
“I remember. But he was a true Casbalian, wasn’t he? A strong and cheerful young man with red hair and blue eyes.”
“Haha! And what about his backside? His face might have been horse-like, but his backside was rather unforgettable.”
Helford’s bawdy remark about the bard elicited chuckles from the baron and the two knights. Roselia and one other person, however, did not laugh and waited patiently for the laughter to subside.
“He shared news with us, didn’t he? About merchants and nobles from the East who frequented Planik Harbor. He said they wrapped their heads in cloth and adorned themselves with dazzling jewels. Although they worshiped a different god and spoke a different language, they were known to be quiet and polite.”
As her father met her gaze, a spark of recollection seemed to cross Baron Frederick’s face. He tapped his temple lightly with a finger.
“Ah, yes, I do recall that. Are you suggesting this man is from the same place as those Eastern merchants?”
Roselia shook her head.
“No, he’s different from the Easterners Lata Leopold described. Leopold said that all Eastern men wrap their heads in white cloth, but this man does not.”
“Then he has no connection to them, does he?”
Sir Ainse interjected, and Sir Lawrence nodded in agreement.
“Sir Ainse is correct. Planik Harbor, where those Eastern merchants operate, is more than 150 miles (about 240 kilometers) from our domain. Moreover, there’s nothing here that would interest them. There’s no reason for them to come here, and if they did travel that far, we’d have heard rumors first. Their distinctive attire would surely have caused a stir. Furthermore, those Eastern merchants are pagans. Our domain is not Planik, which tolerates such people.”
“Sir Lawrence is right! Pagans in our domain are sentenced to death without question! I’ll personally take his head.”
Helford remained as extreme as ever.
Roselia stayed silent, waiting for them to finish before speaking again.
“Precisely because he may be different from the Eastern merchants, we need to consider this carefully. And… perhaps it would be best to see this first.”
The knights’ eyes focused on the object she produced.
“What is that?”
“One of his belongings. It’s truly remarkable.”
Roselia revealed a Swiss Army knife. The knights leaned in, their curiosity piqued.
“Look at this.”
She demonstrated several functions she had discovered through trial and error. Each time a small blade or tool snapped out, the knights let out gasps of amazement.
“Ho! This is a treasure! My lord, my loyalty to you and this domain is unwavering, but its value pales compared to this artifact. Please, grant it to me! Sir Helford’s devotion will only grow with such a gift!”
The ever-impulsive Helford eagerly requested the artifact, prompting Roselia to frown.
“Sir Helford, I haven’t finished speaking yet.”
Helford scratched his head sheepishly and pushed his chair back slightly, retreating.
“While these functions are impressive, look at this.”
“What? That symbol…?”
“How does a foreigner with black hair possess such an emblem?”
“Indeed. This is astonishing.”
The knights’ amazement shifted to the silver emblem engraved on the Swiss Army knife.
“A holy emblem of the Lord… This is extraordinary. Could it be stolen?”
“I don’t think so. Bishop Swendik will provide clarity.”
At that, a middle-aged man in white, seated silently until now, rose to speak.
“Indeed, that emblem is unique to sacred relics permitted by our one true Lord, Reyes. The red signifies holy blood in devotion to the Lord, while the white circle and cross at its center mark it as a sacred symbol granted by the Archangel Ferriam himself.”
“Hmm…”
The baron and knights grew solemn. Bishop Swendik continued calmly.
“I’ve never seen such a relic before. None of the priests in this land possess anything like it. Even the archbishop of our kingdom likely does not have such an artifact.”
“Then…?”
“Perhaps he is…”
Roselia was about to provide an answer when a low voice interrupted her.
“Are you suggesting he may be a foreigner who shares our faith?”
Sir Lawrence, the domain’s most learned knight, posed the question. The expressions of the other two knights shifted to surprise.
“Precisely.”
Roselia’s confirmation brought a hush to the room as everyone fell into thought.
Yet not everyone was willing to think deeply.
“What does it matter? He’s a nuisance. Let’s just execute him. Foreigners won’t feed us.”
Only one person could say such a thing: Helford.
Normally, someone would have rebuked him, but for some reason, silence persisted.
“Sir Helford isn’t entirely wrong. Even if the young lady is correct and he follows Lord Reyes, he’s still a foreigner unrelated to us.”
Einse’s agreement made Helford grin and nod vigorously.
However, Helford’s grin didn’t last long.
“With the limited authority granted to a humble bishop by the holy will of our Lord, I cannot agree to this. He might be a foreigner, but he carries a sacred artifact and appears to be a priest. Though his attire and appearance differ from ours, if he is indeed a faithful servant of the Lord, we would be making a grave mistake.”
It was Bishop Swendik, the religious leader of the domain.
Although he always listened to the knights with a kind expression, he was a stubborn man who never compromised when it came to proclaiming and practicing the will of God.
“Ahem! I wasn’t saying he absolutely needs to be executed…”
Helford backed down.
Though he was a knight, he couldn’t openly oppose the bishop’s words. Even if he wanted to argue, his lack of education meant he wouldn’t stand a chance in a debate with the bishop.
“If the baron insists on executing him, I will request a dual trial between the territorial and diocesan courts. Also… would you take a look at this?”
Bishop Swendik presented the foreigner’s hat and clothing.
The bizarre outfit, dyed in mottled colours, was unmistakably foreign in design.
“What an odd piece of clothing. With so many better options, why would anyone make clothes in such a dirty-looking color? The sacred artifact is impressive, but the clothes are just awful.”
“Sir Helford, perhaps you should take a closer look at this part.”
The bishop directed Helford’s attention to a specific area of the clothing where emblems of a reserve force and a reconnaissance unit were displayed.
“This is…”
Just as Lawrence was about to comment, Helford’s loud voice interrupted.
“Oh! This is incredibly detailed. The colors are splendid! And what is this animal? It looks remarkably fierce and valiant! Haha! It’s a perfect match for someone like me!”
Though his sudden change of tone was annoying, it was true that the animal embroidered on the foreigner’s clothing shared similarities with Helford’s personality.
The creature depicted had piercing eyes, a gaping mouth with sharp teeth, and a ferocious aura—it was a tiger.
“This is called a tiger, a creature native to the East.
It’s similar to the lions of the South but prefers solitude over forming groups. Its courage is unparalleled, and it is regarded as the king of beasts in the East,” Lawrence explained, drawing from his extensive travels.
Helford’s jaw dropped further.
“Haha! That’s perfect for a knight of knights like me! Baron, could you grant me the emblem with this animal on it…?”
“Silence! The bishop isn’t finished speaking, Sir Helford.”
“Ack!”
Rebuked by the baron, Helford fell silent.
Though brave and loyal, this knight was far too impulsive.
Clicking his tongue, Baron Frederick spoke in a measured tone.
“In my opinion, such elaborate and intricate emblems can only belong to royalty or high-ranking noble families.
Moreover, I’m familiar with tigers; I’ve heard that in the East, some even revere this animal. Bishop, is this what you’re implying?”
The bishop nodded.
“Indeed. Not only might he be a priest of our faith, but he could also be a noble of distinguished lineage.”
Silence descended once more.
A foreigner who might share their faith and possibly hail from nobility.
Though nothing was certain, the evidence suggested a strong possibility.
“Given these findings, I believe his identity is unlikely to be ordinary.
If the baron insists on his execution, I, as the bishop responsible for this juridction, formally request a diocesan trial.
I will personally send a letter to the central diocese by tomorrow if needed.”
Bishop Swendik’s expression was resolute, making it clear he was prepared to escalate the matter.
The atmosphere among the baron and the knights grew serious.
In the domain, the bishop’s authority was not beneath that of the baron.
While Baron Frederick held practical control over the domain and its people, matters of religion carried a different weight.
A domain granted by the king was also acknowledged by the Church, and the divine influence surrounding the continent was strong enough to overshadow the king’s power.
Thus, in religious affairs, Baron Frederick had to carefully consider the bishop’s opinions.
If Frederick was a lord recognized by the king and his liege marquis, Swendik was a bishop, a representative of God and the Pope.
“I haven’t even declared that I’ll execute him, yet it seems the bishop is getting too worked up. Haha! Please calm yourself.”
Baron Frederick smiled, soothing the bishop.
“Ahem, my apologies.”
Somewhat embarrassed, Bishop Swendik coughed lightly and sat down.
Usually a gentle and devout priest, he became easily agitated when it came to matters of faith and religion.
Though this behaviour reflected his deep devotion, it could sometimes be overwhelming.
“I believe it would be wise to hear his side of the story tomorrow. Of course, I don’t dispute the bishop’s words.
However, Sir Helford’s concerns are not entirely baseless. He could be a foreign spy or even a slave who stole sacred artifacts and clothing from his master.
Since nothing is certain, we should meet him tomorrow and make a judgment then.”
The insightful and composed Lawrence, the most learned knight in the domain, proposed a fair solution, and Roselia quickly voiced her agreement.
“I support Sir Lawrence’s suggestion.”
“It seems reasonable. It aligns with the principles of chivalry as well.”
Even Einse, a loyal believer in chivalry, voiced his approval, narrowing the decision to one option.
“Then we shall hear from him tomorrow morning and decide on the appropriate course of action.”
“As you wish, my lord.”
At Baron Frederick’s declaration, the knights bowed deeply, showing their respect. Regardless of the discussions, Frederick was the ultimate decision-maker in the domain.
But one person silently grumbled in frustration.
Why not just cut his head off and be done with it?
Helford’s hands itched for action.
(To be continued in the next Chapter.)