Medieval Knight System: Building the Strongest Empire Ever!

I woke up earlier than usual today.

The monks dispatched from the Bishopric of Lanseh had cost me some sleep last night, but there was plenty that needed my attention for the special trial being held today.

I didn’t want to leave my wife’s warm, soft embrace, and I didn’t want to give up that warmth either. Part of me desperately wanted to stay curled up like a caterpillar and laze around all day, but a lord’s got to work, right?

As I slipped out from her side, Hilda woke up too. Hmm, she’s pretty even when she’s dazed and half-asleep. When I stroked her cheek, she smiled shyly and leaned into my hand.

"Am I the sleepyhead today?"

"The most adorable sleepyhead in the world. Shall we just sleep in together?"

"We can’t, Wolf. Today’s the special trial, remember?"

"Of course I know. Did you know the monks arrived late last night?"

"Oh my, really? I had no idea."

It was so noisy outside, and yet she slept so deeply that someone could have carried her off and she’d never have known. Priscilla and Sabine, who had been waiting outside, hurried in and drew back the curtains. Then they opened the windows to air out the room.

The cold breeze snapped me wide awake.

Hilda furrowed her lovely brow and pulled the covers over her head.

As always, I stood in front of the mirror while the two handmaids dressed me. At first it felt terribly awkward, but I must have become a proper noble by now, because it feels like something’s missing when they don’t dress me.

"Stay under the covers if you’re cold."

"My husband’s finishing touches are my job."

Hilda climbed out of bed and gave me a final once-over.

It wasn’t really a task for a lord’s wife, but this was the one thing I wanted Hilda to do. A wife lovingly tying her husband’s necktie as he heads off to work was a kind of romantic ideal of mine.

Sadly, I never have occasion to wear a necktie, so I entrusted her with the final adjustments to my clothes instead, and Hilda gladly indulged me. She was clumsy at first, but she’s gotten quite good at it.

"Ahem, ahem. My wolf is as handsome as ever."

"And my Valkyrie is dazzlingly beautiful. Are you free tomorrow?"

"Sadly, I’ll be busy getting ready for the move."

That’s right. We have to move to Rosenheim now. Feuzen has been downgraded to a district village, and Rosenheim is my new home. That’s why it’s been a bit noisy outside since morning.

We gazed at each other and shared a light kiss. Leaving behind the giggling of Sabine and Priscilla, who love our little displays of affection, I stepped out of the bedroom. It was the lady of the manor’s turn to get ready.

Daniel and the other servants were swamped with preparations for the move. At the side of our fourteen-year-old butler stood Göring, pushing sixty, passing along his know-how and keeping Daniel steady so the boy wouldn’t slip up.

"I’m so glad we have you. Our retainers are so young that they make a lot of mistakes."

"Everyone makes plenty of mistakes at first. But Daniel learns faster than any butler I’ve ever seen. He has a good memory, and he’s very clever. Only..."

"Only? Is there some problem with him?"

"His one flaw is that he loses his head whenever he sees your lordship’s cute handmaid. Ho ho ho."

Daniel chasing after Sabine is already common knowledge. Well, the two of them liked each other from the start, and he was the brave boy who risked his life to protect Sabine back in the slums.

Göring laughed and said that since Daniel had watched and learned from a loving lord and lady up close, the boy would grow into a fine husband who treats his wife well. Göring had even told him to cherish Sabine once they married.

This may be medieval society, with its unbelievable law granting husbands the right to beat their wives, but there are plenty of patriarchs whose wives have them wrapped around their little fingers, and plenty more who love their wives dearly and live in harmony.

"Still, I never imagined a special trial would be held in Feuzen."

"They say there have only been two in thirty years. Have you ever seen one?"

"I saw one in Breisburg once. Hmm, it must have been forty years ago."

"...That was ages ago."

He said the trial had been so cruel that it still lingered in his memory. What’s more, numerous special trials were held not only in Breisburg but across the entire duchy, and guilty verdicts were handed down in five of them.

"The duchy was in complete chaos in those days. There were frequent invasions from Burgundy, an epidemic was spreading, and famine followed on top of it all. People blamed it all on the work of witches, which is why special trials were held so often, I believe."

"And now that things are stable, special trials have become rare?"

"When a country falls into chaos, it seems people want someone to pin the blame on."

Witch hunts are a horrific madness born of exactly those kinds of tangled circumstances. The saving grace is that the special trial about to be held in Feuzen is closer to a rigged game, with a script written by Norman.

The inquisition monks from the Bishopric of Lanseh, led by Chief Monk Francisco, had arrived last night and were still setting up the special courtroom in the Feuzen church without a wink of sleep.

"Anton, have the monks really been working straight through the night?"

"I checked on them during the dawn patrol, and every one of them had bloodshot eyes. Some of the young monks had dozed off in a corner, and it was pitiful watching them struggle to their feet at an old monk’s thundering scolding."

"Tsk, tsk. Poor servants of God. The path of asceticism is no easy road."

Nikolaus moved the schedule up, so the poor monks who arrived last night are apparently going through hell. It’s clergy business, so I can’t intervene. I only hope they let the young ones get some sleep.

Anton, finished with the dawn patrol, returned to his quarters, and Ferke took over as my escort. Drek was away at Gale Knights training with Viktor, so he wasn’t here.

Meanwhile, Ted and Oscar are standing guard at the Feuzen church. I mobilized eight gunners plus every spare guard we had left, taking special care with security so nothing untoward would happen.

Hans was frantically busy welcoming the visitors who had rushed to Feuzen to watch the special trial. Most of them were from the Bishopric of Lanseh and Neudenburg. Word must have reached those parts first.

It was fortunate that the short timeline kept the rumors from spreading far. If the trial had been held a week later, Feuzen would surely have been swarming with visitors. Increasing the patrols had been a good call, just as Hilda advised.

Then I spotted Father Andreas, who should have been busy with trial preparations, gesturing frantically at me from an alley. Huh? What’s he doing over there? It was such an unexpected sight that I was baffled.

"Father, what about the trial preparations? Why on earth are you here?"

"My lord, there’s something urgent I must tell you. If it’s all right, may I speak with you over there?"

Andreas kept glancing warily at Ferke and my men as he spoke. It seemed to be a secret matter no one else could be allowed to hear, so I stepped aside with him.

"My lord, it appears Father Nikolaus intends to prove the existence of a witch."

"Isn’t it Church policy not to acknowledge a witch’s existence based on accusations alone?"

"Normally, that’s how it should be, but Father Nikolaus seems to regard exposing witches as the sacred duty of every Christian monk."

Chief Monk Francisco had told me quietly last night that Father Nikolaus needed witch-hunting results on his record as an inquisitor. Francisco had also said that Nikolaus was bound for Tyrol in Austria.

I had planned to use this special trial to bring judgment down on Dressel’s gang, who had damaged Feuzen’s harmony and framed a poor widowed seamstress as a witch, but I realized things were going sideways.

If that priest wants to prove a witch exists, contrary to the trial’s original purpose, the verdict could come out the exact opposite of what we intended. And that is absolutely not the outcome Norman and I want.

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