Betrayal Knight's Joyful Faith

Chapter 109

It was Arendt who suggested that they eat at a crowded restaurant.The reason was simple.

“We need to get a feel for the atmosphere.”

“Atmosphere?”

“We need to check how the mood is.”

A wanted notice was issued targeting the Sword of the Broken Heart, and there was a need to gauge the mood of the civilians, so everyone readily agreed.

Since the speaker was Arendt, it was as if they had no right to refuse.

After a while, he changed into the simple clothes he had brought in case they were needed and blended in with the crowd.

The owner who discovered them looked a little puzzled, but when Arthur made a gesture, he got the general idea and shut his mouth.

“By the way, how long will it last?”

“What will?”

“What do you think? I’m talking about the situation with Sir Arcus.”

Arthur was the first to raise the topic.

Arendt stabbed the meat with a fork and put it into his mouth.

“What about him?”

“You provoked him on purpose.”

Arcus’ gaze from the stairwell had been noticed by everyone.

The way he looked at his younger brother from afar was so pitiful.

It was quite surprising that Arendt just left him like that.

Given that guy’s personality, if he really wanted to throw Arcus out, it wouldn’t have ended like this.

Richt and Laius also seemed to have the same thoughts and turned their gaze towards Arendt.

Arcus would have thought he was being consistently rejected, but it seemed a little different to them.

“Is there something you want to find out?”

“His purpose.”

Arendt swallowed the meat and replied dully.

Richt asked back, looking puzzled.

“His purpose?”

“The reason why he’s acting so shabbily.”

“Isn’t it possible that there are no selfish motives to his actions?”

“That’s true, but then it’s even more annoying. He kept his mouth shut but hung on like this.”

…That was a very reasonable statement.

Although it could be said that the brothers were somewhat similar in the fact that they did not change their facial expressions much and were both blunt, other than that, there was absolutely nothing in common between the two.

This was especially true in terms of appearance.

Unlike Arcus, who resembled Count Eckhart, it was difficult to find any trace of the Count in Arendt’s delicate and handsome face.

Arthur shrugged his shoulders as Arendt usually did.

“Okay, whatever. Do whatever you want. I’ll have to bring some stomach medicine to him later.”

“Do you carry something like that around?”

“I packed it before I left, as I thought the captain or your brother might need it.”

It was an outstanding insight.

Laius pushed the new dish the host had brought in front of the knights.

“By the way, it’s peaceful.”

Although a nationwide alert had clearly been issued, there was no sign of tension here.

It was a bit surprising that there wasn’t any mention of the evil god, although it was hard to imagine how people who were busy living day to day would react to such things.

“Was the temple like this? You just came back from there.”

“It wasn’t much different. I asked if they had ever heard any suspicious rumors or encountered strange people, but there was no meaningful answer.”

Arendt tilted his head to one side at Richt’s answer.

“Then there’s no point in having a wanted notice?”

“It can’t be helped. It’s a relatively large city, but if the lords had decided to issue a wanted notice, the atmosphere would be a bit different from here.”

This was just a small town that made money off of tourists. It was hard to expect news to reach here.

“Other places probably wouldn’t be much different, as long as there’s no war going on right now.”

“Arthur.”

“They are so busy making a living that they don’t have time to worry about things that are out of their reach….”

“Arthur.”

Only when Richt called his name a second time did Arthur stop talking.

It was only a beat too late that he noticed the damn apprentice knight’s sly smile.

“…You, you. What are you trying to do?”

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but just calm down.”

“Why do you treat people like rabid dogs?”

Even when Richt joined in, Arendt just shrugged his shoulders.

Laius, who had been looking on anxiously, finally put down his fork.

“Wait a minute, Arendt. Let’s talk about…”

But before he could finish speaking.

Smack.

Arendt grabbed the owner’s attention as he passed by.

“Oh my, what else do you need?”

“Here, give me some more alcohol. By the way, sir, have you heard any interesting stories lately?”

And finally, the mouth that had been shut was opened.

“Huh? Any interesting stories… what do you mean? There’s nothing in particular. What kind of strange things could happen in a small town like this?”

“No, it’s nothing.”

It was these simple words that caught people’s attention.

As the owner turned towards Arendt with interest, Arthur and Richt, sensing ominousness, hastily waved their hands.

“Hey, hey! What are you doing?”

“Wait a minute. Stop for a moment, Arendt!”

However, Arendt easily avoided the attack by quickly bending his upper body, smiled, and began to tell his story in earnest.

“I was wondering if the scammers who sell the name of God are on the rise these days and have come all the way here.”

“Scammers?”

The owner widened his eyes.

He was a perfect fit for the supporting role that was often found in comedies.

“Yes, scammers. These guys, well, they declared themselves enemies of God Luce and challenged the imperial family. They are really arrogant. Do you know? There might be one or two of them mixed in here too.”

“Oh my, they’re mixed in here! Who would do such a terrible thing?”

Arendt smiled again at the suddenly excited owner, then jumped up from his seat and plopped him down on the chair he had been sitting on just a moment ago.

Thanks to the owner’s loud voice, people who were concentrating on their own conversations began to look in his direction one by one.

“It doesn’t mean they’re here, it means they’re spread throughout the empire.”

He kept his gaze fixed on the owner and raised his voice so that everyone could hear.

“I’m one of the swordsmen in the palace, and I had a fight with those guys a while ago.”

As he said that, he briefly showed the people the sword on his waist.

Swordsmen… It wasn’t entirely wrong, but the faces of the group turned pale at that subtle expression.

“Are you talking about those conmen you were talking about earlier?”

“That’s right. How much trouble did you have?”

Just then, a slightly drunk tourist showed interest.

“If you are a swordsman in the palace, who are the high-ranking officials?”

“Come to think of it, it looks like everyone in the group is half-and-half.”

The older mercenaries burst into laughter.

Arendt, who had suddenly taken control of the distracting atmosphere, sat down at the table.

“But you really didn’t hear any news? Even after all that chaos?”

“What chaos? Has something serious happened in the imperial city?”

As interest began to gather, Arendt took a sip of the newly brought out drink by the waiter and began to chat with them.

“This isn’t something I can just go around and talk about… since the country bumpkins don’t seem to know anything, I’ll explain it to you all in detail.”

There was no one who could stop Arendt now.

“That son of a bitch…”

“First of all, that… is confidential…”

“Arthur, can you give me the stomach medicine you said you brought?”

The knights simply gave up everything and chose to pray to God.

Naturally, people were excited about the story.

For those stuck in small towns and thirsty for entertainment, a provocative story was a welcome relief, and for information-sensitive travelers, it was a great opportunity to learn new things.

Arendt quenched the thirst of both, mixing his tales of bravery with lies and some exaggeration.

“…So I cut him down with one stroke of the sword.”

The owner, who had been unusually responsive from the beginning, kept bringing them drinks and urging him to continue the story.

And when the story got to the point where the two villains, Vincent and Blake, appeared, the drunk people started getting excited.

“How dare these guys try to insult God Luce and the imperial family?”

“They seem like people who deserve to be torn to pieces and killed.”

At some point, Arendt, who had been moving around the table and talking nonsense, shrugged his shoulders.

“That’s right. One of them died like that, and the other one ran away with his tail between his legs, so they paid the price.”

“So, are you chasing that guy who ran away now?”

“That’s right. That’s why I came all the way here. I’m dying from annoyance.”

In Arendt’s tale of heroism, the sect that worshiped Chernion was portrayed as a cult that deceived and swindled the weak, and as traitors who seek to overthrow the state by any means necessary and with any kind of money.

“So you too, be careful. You might find yourself shoulder to shoulder with those traitors at some point. If someone tells you that there is a better god than God Luce and tries to lure you into following them, don’t fall for it.”

“Hey, I am someone who has devoted my life to God Luce. That can’t be possible.”

The old mercenary laughed and waved his hand. A necklace with a halo-shaped decoration symbolizing the god Luce dangled from his neck.

“You are truly messengers of God, you guys.”

“I still dare not call myself Lord Luce’s messenger. But after those bastards are rooted out, that might be different.”

Before he knew it, the words flying at Arendt had also become extremely polite.

There was a strange contrast between those who showered him with admiration and respect, Arendt who shamelessly accepted it, and the knights behind him who could not even raise their heads.

Arthur drank the rest of his drink, feeling his throat becoming increasingly parched.

“That great kid…”

He saw it a few times, but it was still a mysterious talent no matter how many times he saw it.

His stomach was starting to hurt, and now he felt a headache coming on, so Laius pressed his temples.

“…But it is also true that it was a valid action.”

“Yes? Is that so?”

“Travelers, mercenaries, and locals all gathered here. Word will spread quickly.”

There were probably many people who did not believe the epic that Arendt talked about at face value.

But it didn’t matter.

Even if it was consumed as a momentary entertainment and forgotten, the moment they encountered the real evil religion, they would recall Arendt’s story.

Once a perception was established, it would be hard to shake. If so, then at least the probability of them falling for the trap of Chernionism will be reduced a little.

It is dangerous to spread information carelessly, but what Arendt was talking about was just a ‘story’ in the form of a rumor, so there shouldn’t be a problem in that area either.

Arendt would certainly have done all the calculations before putting it into action.

The only remaining issue was his reputation as a knight…

It was really frustrating to see him holding his drink in one hand and talking like a fish in water, because he seemed closer to a minstrel or a clown from an old tale than a knight.

‘Let’s just give up.’

Laius, who had been quietly drinking like Arthur, suddenly noticed where Arcus was standing.

Arcus was still there, watching Arendt.

His expressionless face was filled with anxiety.