Tap, tap.

"...It's not too bad."

A yard that isn't vast but still decently spacious.
Lush grass and insects.
A wooden cabin overgrown with moss and vines.

It almost feels like a ghost might pop out at any moment, but even so, it's quite a fortunate find.
After all, this is an academy famous for having the most expensive land, and yet I’ve managed to get a house this cheap.

Though...

‘There are rumors of ghosts, a few murders, and stories that criminals used it as a hideout, but, well, that doesn’t matter.’

It’s a cabin with a lot of ominous rumors, but such things don't bother Ihan.

If a ghost shows up, I'll just beat it up.
If a murderer comes, I’ll beat them up too.
Criminals? I'll beat them up as well.

That’s all there is to it.

So, for Ihan, this place is a rare gem.

More importantly...

“A cliff in the back hills... is this paradise?”

He could climb cliffs here!
That thought alone made Ihan feel more content than ever.

This was a successful move.

Suddenly, after three years, Ihan had to move.

There was no other choice.
Being hired as an instructor meant he had to commute to the Royal Academy instead of the knights' division.
Even if he wanted to continue commuting from his previous residence, the 25-kilometer distance made moving a necessity.

...Although, if he felt like it, he could run that distance for exercise.

But why bother?

‘It's easier to just move.’

Sure, there were other transportation options like trains and carriages.
As mentioned before, this world might not have gone through an industrial revolution, but there are some oddly advanced technologies.
However, transportation here is incredibly expensive.

If a commoner took the train for a month, they’d go bankrupt.

So, moving is the better deal.

Of course, it was a hassle and a waste to spend his precious one-week break, meant for course adjustments, house-hunting. But having found a house that was so perfect, the trouble felt worth it.

Thunk.

“Phew, is this the last of it?”
“Sir Knight, where should I put this?”
“Just leave it anywhere. I’ll organize it later.”
“Okay!”

The helper had successfully moved everything except the fragile items without any mistakes. Despite being clumsy, Leira had impressive strength and health.

‘...Was that wardrobe always so light?’

She lifted something meant for two people with ease. God certainly is fair.
She may have been blessed with beauty and health, but her intelligence was left quite low.

“She’d be a hit at a construction site.”

Especially with the supervisors.
There’s no better worker than her. Though, she might not be paid fairly, so it's best not to take her there.

Thunk!

“Wow, Sir Knight! You’re so strong! The tree just came right out!”
“I didn’t pull it out; I just broke it.”
“But why are you breaking perfectly fine trees?”
“This tree is dead. If left alone, it'll attract bugs.”
“I see! But can you really break a tree with your bare hands?”
“If you train enough, anyone can do it.”
“Wow! Can I do it too?”
“Hmm, follow me for about half a year, no, maybe a year, and you might...”

Given her natural build, if she trained for a year, she might even be on par with some of the weaker knights.

‘She’d be perfect as a martial artist.’

Though lacking in brains, she might be a talent fit for dominating the world of women's boxing.

Just as these greedy thoughts crossed his mind, like a boxing coach discovering a prodigy...

“—What the hell are you talking about? Can you have a normal conversation, please?”

Someone interrupted their nonsense.

“Oh, you’re here.”
“Yeah, I’m here, you lunatic.”
“Why are you picking a fight the moment you see me?”
“Because you give me reasons to.”
“??”
“...Never mind, what am I even saying to a half-troll.”
“Who are you calling a half-troll?!”

...He has a surprisingly sharp sense.

Jake Palmer.

Ihan’s only friend, shaking his head in exasperation with a sigh.

Unfortunately, the warm housewarming culture of celebrating a friend’s move does not exist in the Kingdom of Pendragon.
Instead, people go to the church affiliated with the temple to request blessings, offering donations. Would you believe it?

There are countless people who’ve gone bankrupt making those donations in the capital. It’s terrifying.

That’s why Ihan remained an atheist in this life, just as he was in his previous one.
He didn't want to go bankrupt, after all.

“That’s an extreme example. Donations to the temple are just a token of sincerity. It’s more about wishing for a peaceful journey to Avalon in the afterlife.”
“Enough, don’t try to preach to me here.”
“...You unbeliever.”

Jake recited part of a scripture, holding up a cross symbolizing the kingdom’s only religion, The Light of Radiance.

“All-powerful Light of Radiance, and the Seven Archangels who follow its light, forgive this blasphemous sinner and grant them your blessing, Amen.”
“Am I the blasphemous sinner you’re talking about?”
“Who else could it be?”
“...Well, thanks.”

Half was sarcasm, but half was genuine gratitude.
After all, how many people would read scripture for a friend who moved?

He was a grateful friend.

“If you’re really grateful, buy this cross.”
“You scam artist...?”
“I’d love to just give it to you, but they say if you give too much, misfortune follows.”
“......”

Forget it. He’s not that grateful.
He’s like those shady vendors who force amulets on you while you wait at the subway.

Though he grumbled, Ihan eventually tossed Jake two silver coins.
Not because he was a sucker, but because presenting the silver-plated cross at the temple could get him cheaper divine healing later on.
It was a rare-grade item, in a way.

“Since it's from a mid-level priest, you might get up to a 30% discount.”
“Enough, just give me what you brought.”
“Always in a hurry.”

Jake grumbled about not being offered tea, but still quietly handed over the letter.

Information he had commissioned from the guild.
Though Ihan could have bought it himself, he preferred this indirect method just in case.

“They’ve hidden the information on the Grand Duke quite thoroughly, so there isn’t much. The same goes for the Duke. What’s written here is probably just what everyone else knows.”
“That’s more than enough.”

He wasn’t expecting detailed information.
He just wanted to see if there was something he might not have considered.

“...It’s about what I expected.”

At least it wasn’t a waste of money.
The information was worth exactly what he had paid.
After reading it, Ihan didn’t hesitate.

Whoosh.

“A gold coin becoming kindling, huh.”
“Shut up.”

He used the letter as kindling and folded his arms, looking nonchalant.

"These people are all crazy," Ihan murmured.

"Blasphemous," Jake muttered.

"Blasphemous, my foot."

They all seemed like psychopaths.

 

Duke Galahad.
After losing his wife, he developed a madness and became obsessed with torturing and killing criminals, making him an extremely dangerous individual.
On top of that, he inherited the cursed sword that has been passed down through the Galahad family for generations. According to the records, he has the highest compatibility with the sword out of all the past dukes.

In conclusion, he’s a dangerous, bloodthirsty lunatic.

Next, there's Grand Duke Lionel.
Due to his family’s bloodline, he has many wives, forming a pride like a lion’s pride.
Just like the cursed sword in the Galahad family, he has inherited the “mystery” that’s been passed down through the Lionel family. However, due to the side effects of that mystery, he indiscriminately pursues women of all statuses, even going as far as assaulting maids.
And yet, despite fathering many children with these women, he takes no responsibility for them.

In conclusion, he’s an irresponsible rapist and child neglecter.

"Still, they're both extraordinarily handsome, so they’re still popular among noblewomen... Ha! So, if you're good-looking, you can get away with murder and rape, huh?"
“Hmm.”
“Well, I guess when you have that much power, you can get away with anything.”

Ah, romance stories. If you’re handsome and rich, no crime goes unpunished.

...Wasn’t my previous life kind of similar?

“Damn this ridiculous obsession with appearances.”
“I think you’re handsome, Sir Knight!”
“...Thanks, maid. You’re pretty too.”
“Hehe, I hear that a lot.”
“What about me, Miss Maid?”
“...Huh? Who are you?”
“......”

Jake wore a genuinely wounded expression, while Leira blinked innocently, completely unaware of his presence.
She didn’t realize how much her obliviousness hurt him.

But Ihan didn’t care about the awkwardness between them as he delved into thought.

The reason he sought information on the duke and grand duke was simple.
As the old saying goes, to defeat a general, you start by cutting off the head of his horse.
Ihan, ever the diligent listener to ancient wisdom, was simply gathering information on those surrounding Loen and Irene before making contact with them.
But the results were more severe than he had expected.

Of course, if this world really is a romance fantasy, it’s not so incomprehensible.
After all, most of the central characters in romance fantasy worlds are broken in one way or another.

‘Their children probably aren’t much better.’

Children are mirrors of their parents.
That logic would likely hold true here as well, and now Ihan understood a bit better why Isis had asked him for a ‘favor.’

‘If I were her, I’d be irritated to have those kids hanging around my front yard too.’

Unintentionally, Ihan found himself empathizing with Isis.

“If you ever need help, just let me know. And... try to stay away from those in power. I’m saying this not as a knight or noble, but as a concerned friend.”

What was this?
Had he been watching a play? Or was it just because of Leira that he was trying to look cool?
Regardless, Jake left with a grand statement.

Unfortunately...

“Sir Knight, that man seems a little strange. Do you think he might be unwell?”
“...No, not at all.”

To Leira, he was just an ill person.

Still.

“He may be a bit odd, but he’s a good guy. You can tell he cares about you.”
“He is a good person.”

Despite his fall from grace, Jake came from a noble family with a long history.
There had been a story about how his family was unjustly ruined, yet despite that, he still remained loyal to the royal family and even joined the knights to continue his family’s legacy.
He was the model student compared to a delinquent like Ihan.

And yet, that same guy was advising Ihan to stay away from those in power—and the royal family.

In a way, Jake was even suppressing his own loyalty to give Ihan that advice.
He valued friendship more than his loyalty.

…It was strange.
In his previous life, Ihan had been bullied for being an orphan, and so-called “friends” had always stabbed him in the back.
But in this life, he had found someone who genuinely cared for him.

“I guess I’m doing alright in this life.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing. More importantly, Miss Maid, isn’t it time for you to return to the palace? It’s getting late.”

If it were anyone else, they would have noticed that Ihan was trying to change the subject, but Leira didn’t pick up on things like that.
She was far too straightforward and kind-hearted.

...Which made Ihan worry that she’d be scammed one day.

And with her usual childlike innocence, she smiled brightly and said,

“I’m not going back.”

“...What?”

“From now on, I’ll be living with you, Sir Knight. The princess told me to take good care of you, after all. Hehe.”
“...Uh, don’t you think that’s a bit... inappropriate?”

Does she not understand the implications of a man and a woman living under one roof?
But she wasn’t that clueless.

“The princess said you’re safe! What did she say again? Ah, yes! ‘There’s nothing to worry about since he’s not even a real man!’ That’s what she said!”
“......”
“What does it mean to be a ‘real man,’ though?”
“...You don’t need to know.”

How cruel of that woman, to insult his pride like this!

‘That damn woman. Just wait till we meet again.’

Ihan ground his teeth, making a mental note to settle the score the next time he saw the princess.

Knock, knock.

“Oh, it seems we have a visitor.”
“Stay back for now.”

It was an unfamiliar scent.
The faint smell of cornelian cherries drifted in the air.
Ihan, whose senses were as sharp as a ghost when it came to recognizing human scents, felt uneasy.
He cautiously opened the door, confident that even bare-handed, he could snap a spine if necessary...

“Ah, hello. I... I just moved in next door, and I’m handing out polenta... Oh my, aren’t you Instructor Ihan?”
“......”
“What a coincidence, meeting you like this! How strange and wonderful!”

“Hm...”

One thing was certain: this girl...

‘She’s terrible at acting.’

Ihan looked at her.

Irene Windler.

She, the second surveillance target, was now loitering suspiciously around his yard.