"No! Sir! The witch instructed us not to see anyone today!" The inn still had attendants responsible for guarding the place. Despite there being only two of them, they were determinedly blocking Ike's path up the stairs.
"My friend is critically injured, please do me this favor, thank you!" Ike was clearly anxious and forcefully tried to push his way up.
The paladins, travelers, and Ryan in the hall were all dumbfounded, wondering what was going on.
Ryan, curious about the unfolding drama, wanted to watch, but seeing Ike unable to get upstairs, suddenly drew his long sword and said, "I can only apologize then!"
In response, a chorus of swords being drawn filled the air.
Things didn't go as Ike had hoped. His show of force resulted in all the paladins in the hall drawing their swords. The paladins, who despise evil, would not stand idly by while a wandering knight abused his power.
Just as the paladins drew their swords, the innkeeper panicked. He quickly signaled to one of his attendants, who slipped out the door. The innkeeper then ran from behind the counter, pleading with the paladins to put away their weapons. "Please, put away your weapons! Please, gentlemen paladins, don't fight in my inn! I beg you!"
"But he drew his sword first, we're helping you!" A young paladin stood up, somewhat exasperated. "Why aren't you stopping him instead of us?"
"I must stop you! You self-righteous people!" The innkeeper, also exasperated, retorted sharply. "If you fight, my inn will be destroyed! Enough! If you insist on fighting, I won't allow you paladins to stay here anymore, okay? Find another inn!"
"Damn it!" The paladin cursed, feeling trapped. Putting away his sword seemed wrong, but intervening seemed equally wrong. Most of the other paladins felt the same way—well-meaning but now made to feel like the bad guys, which left them feeling quite aggrieved.
Ryan smirked, thinking that order breeds stupidity. Didn't these paladins realize where they were? If they really fought, how could the innkeeper continue his business?
No wonder merchants and innkeepers disliked paladins, especially young ones. These guys, indoctrinated daily with "punish evil and promote good," were quick to let their blood rush to their heads, leaving a mess for the innkeepers to deal with while they walked away feeling righteous.
The ones who liked paladins most were the poor, especially tenant farmers and workers. Whenever paladins appeared, justice would be upheld, and the storekeepers or nobles would usually treat them better to avoid trouble, following an unwritten rule. The Church of Justice and the noble lords agreed never to interfere in noble affairs or taxation. In return, the lords would ensure that "troublemakers" wouldn't complain about taxes or conscription, sparing the paladins from difficult situations.
The Church of Justice had been a small church during the Great Calamity. If it hadn't allied with the rising Charlemagne, it could never have become the continent's leading church. The Empire and the Church of Justice support each other, their roles clearly defined and inseparable. This is the only church that allows the Emperor to directly command its paladin and knightly orders. It's said that without the tireless mediation of High Priest Volkmar Beckmann, Emperor Karl Franz Friedrich might have lost the election to his uncle Joseph Friedrich.
"No, you can't go up!" The inn's guards also drew their weapons. One wielded a sword, the other a spear. Both were burly and robust, not easy to deal with. The innkeeper approached, bowed to show he meant no harm, and spoke in a negotiating tone, "Lady Dietlinde said no one is allowed to disturb her, unless..."
"Unless what? Hurry up and say it!" Ike, seeing the paladins in the hall, realized that forcing his way through was no longer possible and said anxiously.
"Unless Sir White Wolf Knight here agrees to lead you up." The innkeeper pointed to Ryan, who was sitting nearby watching the drama unfold.
"??!!" Ryan thought, how did this matter circle back to me?
Ike finally noticed Ryan sitting in the hall. He quickly approached Ryan, ignoring the threatening looks from the paladins. "Sir Ryan!"
"What's meant to happen can't be avoided," Ryan muttered. His childhood friend Alfred laughed heartily, and the White Wolf Knight took up the conversation. "What's the matter? Please explain in detail."
Ryan then nodded to the leading knight, Frode, who ordered the paladins to sheathe their swords and sit down. The innkeeper breathed a sigh of relief.
"Sir Ryan, do you remember when we fought side by side? That night against the beastmen?" Ike was still anxious.
"Of course, your performance was impressive," Ryan remembered that Ike had indeed performed well, fighting bravely and taking down several beastmen.
"The wandering knight who fought with us that night, named Gudson, do you remember him?" Ike was anxious, unable to sit still. "He's injured, seriously injured. Last night he started feeling dizzy, feverish, and he's been convulsing non-stop..."
"That's tetanus!" Ryan immediately recognized Gudson's symptoms. Beastmen's weapons were often smeared with filth and mud, making infection highly likely. Disinfecting wounds was crucial; not everyone was as immune as Ryan.
"Yes, it's tetanus!" Ike was desperate, his face showing his urgency.
Tetanus was almost a death sentence in Ryan's world during the Middle Ages. Once infected, there was little hope other than waiting for death, and everyone feared it greatly. This contributed to the fear of beastmen.
In this world of sword and magic, tetanus wasn't entirely incurable, but finding a cure wasn't easy. The church could cure it with the fifth-level divine spell "Neutralize Poison" or the sixth-level spell "Regenerate," but such treatments were beyond the means of a wandering knight, costing hundreds of gold coins.
So the alternative was a potion or magic. Ryan knew that the Garon Council could brew a high-level magical potion called "Healing Potion," which could restore the drinker to perfect health, neutralizing all poisons and injuries. However, this potion was expensive, with Dietlinde quoting him a friendly price of eighty gold coins per bottle.
For context, an average tenant farmer in the Kingdom of Nord earned about eight to ten gold dinars a year before taxes, indicating the substantial value of eighty gold coins.
"So, you want to ask Lady Dietlinde for a Healing Potion? But she said she's not seeing anyone today." Ryan's tone wasn't particularly warm, doubting Ike could afford it. Healing Potions were exorbitantly priced.
Seeing no progress, Ike clenched his fists, realizing he had no other option.
"Please, for the sake of our past battles together, help me introduce myself to her, Sir Ryan!" Ike suddenly shouted in front of everyone, bowing deeply.
"????" The scene fell silent. The innkeeper stopped what he was doing, the guests paused their meals, and even the attendants stopped cleaning.
Everyone in the inn turned their eyes to Ryan.
The paladins all looked at Ryan, curious about how this famous White Wolf Knight would respond.
Other guests also looked at Ryan, now recognizing who this young kingdom knight was after the shout.
The innkeeper and his staff also awaited Ryan's reaction.
Ryan suddenly realized Ike's real intent.
This guy is forcing my hand!?
A knight's reputation is crucial, especially for a young knight like Ryan. Reputation is intangible but real, affecting all aspects of one's influence and social standing.
For example, for a knight, both reputation and strength are vital, with reputation sometimes being even more critical than strength.
Take Ryan, for instance. In his eight years as a kingdom knight, he had gained significant fame through numerous victories, earning respect in the Kingdom of Nord, the Empire, and Bretonnia. If the court invited him to become a lord or if the king of Nord decreed him a piece of land, most nobles would agree, seeing him as already one of them.
But if his reputation were insufficient?
Then even if the king wanted to forcibly appoint someone as a lord or knight, it would face opposition from nobles and knightly orders alike, ruining the king's prestige.
So Ike was essentially cornering him.
Fighting together was a unique form of camaraderie among knights. By tradition, Ryan should help, being a beneficiary of this custom himself.
Ryan's expression changed slightly, not wanting to gamble with his reputation, especially with his grand ambitions requiring him to cherish his standing.
"Alright, for the sake of our past battles together, I'll take you to see Lady Dietlinde." Ryan finally agreed, and Ike breathed a sigh of relief. Alfred, sitting opposite Ryan, also smiled in relief.
"Alfred, let's go together!" Ryan signaled to his childhood friend.
"Sure!" Alfred sprang from his seat, following Ryan upstairs, with Ike hurriedly trailing behind.
As they ascended the stairs, Alfred's full plate armor creaked loudly, making one worry if the wooden stairs might collapse under his weight. Ryan joked, "Alfred, do you stay in that tin can every day?"
"Well, most of the time, yes. I'm used to it," Alfred laughed sheepishly, scratching his head. "I used to find it uncomfortable, but now, if I take it off, I feel like something's missing."
"...," Ryan rolled his eyes. The Church of Justice was powerful and wealthy, equipping all its paladins with breastplates and chainmail. Advanced paladins like Alfred got full plate armor, and they rarely took it off
, earning them the nickname "tin cans" from the people, which Ryan found quite fitting.
"I'm sorry, Sir Ryan. I had no choice but to resort to this. Gudson's injury is severe, and I'm desperate," Ike apologized, knowing his actions had displeased Ryan.
Ryan suddenly stopped on the stairs and turned around. "Sir Ike, please tell me the truth, will you?"
Ike's heart skipped a beat, and he forced a smile. "What truth? I don't understand."
"Enough, stop pretending. Tell me, that night when the beastmen attacked, why was Gudson fully armed to face them? You must know something, right?"
"...," Ike remained silent.
"If you won't tell me the truth, then I have no reason to introduce you to Lady Dietlinde, do I?" Ryan stood still.
"You're breaking your word, Sir Ryan..." Ike swallowed hard, struggling to speak.
"Oh, now you accuse me of breaking my word?" Ryan's face turned icy, and the three stood at the stairway's corner, lit by the dim oil lamp on the wall.
Ryan had chosen this spot wisely. From the hall, they were out of sight, but Ryan blocked the way, making it impossible for Ike to proceed without his permission.
If they couldn't reach an agreement, Ryan could detain Ike right there, and no one would know. If Ike tried to use force, attacking a kingdom knight was a severe crime, justifying immediate and lawful retaliation.
So, you can corner me, but I can't corner you?
Alfred immediately sensed the tension in Ryan's words, realizing that Gudson's readiness must be linked to the beastmen's attack. He gripped his sword, signaling his support for Ryan.
A long silence followed.
Ike's face turned red and then white. He knew he couldn't overcome the armored paladin and Ryan, and fighting would ruin everything, leaving Gudson with no hope.
The wandering knight, enduring great anguish, seemed to plead with Ryan to stop pressing him.
But Ryan's expression remained cold as ice, watching the knight indifferently.
If you don't tell me what happened, Gudson can just wait to die.
If you try to fight here, we'll take you down immediately.
Finally, Ike spoke, his face filled with shame and disgrace.
"That night, Gudson and a few others called me to discuss something."
"To discuss the ownership of... Heartstone..."