Chapter 8: The Royal Guard - (2)

“I was in the infirmary, and I swear I saw him chatting sweetly with some blonde woman! I’m telling you, it’s true!”

“Uh, maybe... maybe she was just his attendant?”

“Absolutely not. From the way she was dressed, it was clear her outfit had just one purpose—to come right off~”

“W-What do you mean, ‘come off’...?”

Melina spoke rapidly, like a hawk who had just locked onto its prey. For Lincia, who had just turned fifteen, it was all a bit too much—a fresh and shocking revelation.

Sir Freud was flirting with a woman.

Honestly, it shouldn’t have mattered to her.

It really shouldn’t have... but…

“She was pretty.”

“That part doesn’t interest me.”

“Her chest was huge.”

“Still not interested.”

“She touched Sir Freud’s bare chest.”

“...I don’t care.”

Lincia responded while sharply turning her head away.

She had read in her favorite books that men of Sir Freud’s age—especially those admired as knights—often had women around them. It was normal. Expected, even.

So who Freud associated with wasn’t something Lincia had any right to be concerned about.

And yet… deep down, she couldn’t shake the feeling of betrayal.

She had worried herself sick over his health for four days and nights, and now it seemed like he didn’t even care. Considering her age, it wasn’t unreasonable for her to feel like all her effort had been thrown away.

“And, Your Highness, I found out something else by doing a bit of my own digging,”

Melina leaned in closer, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

“Within the Royal Guard, Freud Escoval has a terrible reputation.”

“A terrible reputation? Sir Freud?”

Lincia frowned as she watched Melina nod furiously.

“They say his personality is practically demonic. He beats junior guards to a pulp under the excuse of ‘training,’ flirts outrageously with the female attendants, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. These stories have been circulating within the Guard, and multiple people have confirmed them.”

“Umm...”

“And that’s not all! Every evening, he sneaks out of the palace, gets completely wasted, and causes chaos when he returns. Oh—and once, he even brought a woman back to the barracks and got caught!”

“Uhh...”

Lincia couldn’t keep up. She was flustered and overwhelmed.

The Freud she had seen may have been a little eccentric and even harsh at times, but he still looked like a proper knight. Certainly not someone as awful as these rumors made him sound.

“B-But the Sir Freud I saw—”

“Even vipers know how to hide their fangs.”

A lump caught in Lincia’s throat as she swallowed hard.

Seeing her reaction, Melina beamed and drove the final nail in.

“You know how royal guards all earn nicknames, right? Like ’Spirit Knight Lautrec’‘Great Oak Oswald’? Want to guess what Sir Freud’s is called?”

Melina leaned back slightly and whispered,

“They call him the Fighting Dog. Some even say Mad Dog.”

Lincia was left speechless.

****

“So, you’re telling me… they actually call me the Mad Dog?”

I asked, completely dumbfounded.

“Yes, sir!”

The delicate-looking soldier in front of me looked like he might burst into tears, nodding his head furiously like a bobblehead on the verge of collapse.

“This is insane…”

I straightened my back and stared at the soldier.

He looked completely lost, dragged in by a knight and interrogated out of nowhere. His brown hair trembled along with his wide, shaken eyes.

Not that I was any less bewildered.

“U-Um, I told you the truth, so… can I go now?”

“No.”

“……”

I clutched my pounding head and let out a sigh heavy enough to crack the floor.

From what I’d managed to gather, Freud’s reputation was utter trash.

To think the same Freud who appeared to be a loyal and honorable knight in the game turned out to be this much of a bastard.

The place I was in now was the Royal Guard barracks inside the Imperial Palace.

When I left the infirmary and tried to head to the imperial office, I was turned away because the ministers were supposedly in an emergency meeting. As for Lincia, she seemed to be isolated somewhere high up in a tower—completely out of reach.

Outside the palace, the aftermath of the explosion was still being dealt with, making it impossible to go anywhere else.

That left only the barracks, which were unusually quiet—probably due to the casualties from the previous terror attack.

So here I was, having done nothing—unable to try out new features like the Status Window or Survival Points—just sitting in the training field. I ended up dragging in a soldier from the Royal Guard to question him about Freud out of sheer curiosity over how Millia had acted toward me.

And well, this was the result.

“So Millia had a good reason to despise me.”

According to this guy, Freud had even made advances toward Millia too.

I asked how someone with such terrible behavior could’ve been entrusted with the role of Royal Guard.

The answer: favoritism from the Guard Captain and raw ability.

And honestly? In the game, Freud was the most powerful among the Royal Guards in terms of stats.

All these sides of Freud that were never shown in the game…

Each revelation was such a shocking twist, I wanted to cover my eyes.

“To think I’m despised by my own comrades…”

No wonder I’d felt all those burning stares the moment I stepped into the barracks.

Not a single soldier had asked how I was doing. I’d guessed something was off, but I hadn’t expected it to be this bad.

At any rate, there was only a week of peace left.

Once Act 1 began, threats would arrive in waves, and casualties would be unavoidable.

For me to achieve the perfect ending I was aiming for, unity among the Royal Guard was non-negotiable.

But with a reputation this utterly screwed… it was clear I’d be starting at a massive disadvantage.

Once I gathered my thoughts, I turned my gaze back to the soldier.

He was still glancing around nervously, but when our eyes met, he flinched like a startled rabbit.

“Hey. You.”

“Yes, sir!”

“What’s your name?”

He looked like he was about to cry.

It felt familiar, somehow.

Where had I seen that face before?

“Kora, sir.”

Ah, right.

That was the same expression rookies made during boot camp when they were about to get chewed out.

Of course, I didn’t intend to bully Kora or anything.

“Alright, Kora. I need a favor.”

“U-Uhh, okay?”

“It’s nothing huge.”

I looked over to one corner of the training yard.

There was a rack stacked high with wooden swords—probably used for the Royal Guard’s daily practice.

I grabbed two of them, then tossed one to Kora’s feet.

“Pick it up.”

“Um… what’s this for…?”

“Pick. It. Up.”

Kora looked like he was about to cry again, his face twisting with dread.

Seriously, I’m not trying to bully the guy!

The reason I gave him the sword was simple: to practice swordsmanship.

There was no way I could fix my reputation overnight.

And I couldn’t exactly go around saying, “I’m actually a soul from another world that possessed this body,” unless I wanted to be branded as heretical and burned at the stake.

Meeting with Lincia was also impossible while she was still under isolation.

Which meant—for the next seven days—I needed to focus on what I could do.

One thing I realized during the fight with Slane was this:

Compared to this body’s hardware, the software—me—was laughably underdeveloped.

I wasn’t so naive as to think I could match the skills that Freud had spent decades honing.

But I could at least learn the fundamentals. So that when I inevitably faced strong enemies again, I wouldn’t just fold.

And someone like a Royal Guard soldier would surely know how to handle a sword better than I did.

As a sparring partner, Kora was more than good enough.

“I-I-I’m sorry, sir… Please, just let me go…”

Watching Kora plead like a man begging for his life, I couldn’t even bring myself to speak.

Yeah…

Clearing up this massive misunderstanding was going to take some serious time.

****

Half a day later.

“This is no joke, seriously…”

I lay flat on my back on the training ground floor, groaning as I massaged my aching shoulder.

Kora had finally, reluctantly agreed to spar. Once I kept pushing him, he went all in with desperate determination.

And I lost.

Brutally.

Not enough to call it a total beatdown, but it was still a humbling defeat.

Without any armor to absorb the impact, it was just two wooden swords clashing—pure skill against skill—and the difference between us was painfully clear.

Every swing of my sword was effortlessly blocked by Kora’s blade.

Physically, I had the upper hand. This body, Freud’s, was stronger—no doubt about it.

But power without technique meant absolutely nothing.

Every time I struck, he either deflected it or countered, finding openings I didn’t even know I’d left.

My entire body was covered in bruises.

At first, Kora had been terrified, stiff with nerves.

But once he realized I didn’t even know the basics, his confidence surged—he even began initiating attacks.

Though, to be fair, he still held back a little, probably afraid of the consequences.

Once our spar ended, it was like reality snapped back into focus for him.

He bowed his head over and over, apologizing like he thought he’d just committed a crime.

How much had Freud brutalized these soldiers for a complete stranger like Kora to act this way?

Still, despite feeling sorry for him… I went ahead and scheduled another spar with him for tomorrow.

“I’ve got a long way to go…”

If I was struggling this much against an ordinary soldier, I wouldn’t stand a chance against an assassin targeting Lincia.

Not even one exchange—I’d be beheaded instantly.

It was a grim situation from every angle.

No matter how hard I trained, there was no way I could overcome all this in just a week.

I clenched my fist.

I had already experienced firsthand how superhuman Freud’s physical abilities were during battle.

But strength alone—without technique—would never be enough to survive.

“There’s got to be something… anything…”

I clutched my head, racking my brain for an answer.

And then suddenly, Lautrec came to mind.

The way he had torn through the cult’s underlings—his dazzling sword technique that fired off spiraling gales of multicolored light.

If there was any path forward for me… that would be it.

That bluish, glowing girl who perched on Lautrec shoulder—

His spirit companion.

-- The End OF The Chapter --

 

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