CHAPTER 298: THE SCOURGE OF HOPE

Curtis didn’t say a word for a whole day.

But the very next day, as if nothing had happened, he returned to normal and started talking nicely.

People don’t change that easily.

No matter how much you are struggling in despair and hope inside, outwardly you tend to act as usual out of inertia.

"How is it? Do you feel like doing something?"

"...I, I...."

"There aren’t that many knights who can handle mana. Just being able to handle mana will get you the best treatment in any territory."

"That is... so...."

"It would be good to think about this and that in advance so that when the time comes, you don’t waste time and energy on useless things."

"...."

Carl would not leave Curtis alone like that.

He constantly whispered dreams and hopes to Curtis, who was trying to run away wearing a mask of inertia, and whipped him to look back on his weak self.

What’s important is the gap between the two.

It brings back to him the dream he had desperately wished for but had turned away from, making it impossible for him to endure his previous self-abandonment.

So, the reality is forced upon him in a more miserable, more painful, and more cruel way.

When seen from the outside, the words Carl said to Curtis sounded very affectionate.

Because Carl, who had already been through the same experience once and achieved success, was very helpful and gave advice to Curtis in treating his illness.

But to those around him, like Catherine and Harmon, who were familiar with the man named Carl, it felt like there was something very ominous about him.

Milton, who was now well into his middle age and approaching old age, was the only one in the group who understood exactly how cruel Carl was.

A single human being named Curtis Levin was being held tightly by hope, and was being whipped with the scourge of hope, tearing apart the protective covering of his ego.

Every time, Curtis would crouch down, shivering, feeling helpless from the loneliness and fear of being thrown into the world alone, and the shame of being naked.

When Curtis was still crouching like that and showed no reaction, Carl finally let him go.

Then Curtis was silent for another long moment, and then he continued his cheerful Southern performance, his mask forcibly sewn back together in a horribly torn way.

As this was repeated, Catherine and Harmon, who were moving alongside Carl, could quickly notice that things were turning strange.

"Master Carl, if you keep doing this, you might end up a wreck...."

Harmon spoke cautiously to Carl.

"Before becoming a knight, I am weak as a human being. I will soon be unable to endure and will collapse."

Catherine also sounded somewhat concerned.

It wasn’t a concern for Curtis, nor was it a fear of losing talent.

She just wondered what would happen if Curtis, who would have been the one to run away or do something stupid while looking around, gave her an excuse to go to Gaston.

"Well then, that wouldn’t be bad either."

Carl answered calmly.

"It may be inadequate compared to following me by deciding of your own free will, but if you completely break down and kneel down and submit, wouldn’t there be a way to use it?"

"...."

You are doing some truly horrible things.

Harmon was disgusted by Carl’s words but did not blame him.

Carl is not a volunteer and has no reason to treat Curtis’s fever for free.

What if Curtis saves his life and promises him a bright future, but then takes what he deserves and runs away?

Just let him go like that?

"...Are you talking about Sir Curtis?"

"Yes, Sir Billford."

"...Uh, um.... Yes."

Billford looked at Catherine, grinned, then answered with a face that seemed to have given up on thinking, then looked straight ahead again.

This is a difficult story for a 17-year-old youth from commoner backgrounds.

All Billford had to do was fight well. That was enough.

No, not that.

"I wonder if he is worth that much. No matter how many times he has traveled, I have never seen him hold a sword."

Catherine observed Curtis closely and became skeptical about hiring him.

Curtis had never been seen training before.

Unlike Carl, Catherine, and Billford, who occasionally did light training whenever they had a break, Curtis just chatted with the soldiers from a distance.

Even looking at his movements and the level of training of his body, it didn’t look that great.

Weak in mind and weak in body.

Is it worth hiring a guy who can’t even do the basics as a knight?

"I don’t think he has the same talent as Carl. Even if he has a lot of mana, his personal strength is weak."

Catherine was absolutely right.

But Carl had seen how big of an impact Curtis had made in The Iron Emperor Reigns.

"I know that just having a lot of mana is not enough."

Carl admitted it coolly.

"But, Sir Catherine, what if there was not just a lot of mana, but a great deal of it, and even so much that it could be used indefinitely?"

"...That would be awesome."

Catherine couldn’t deny it either.

Mana is power, and having a lot of mana alone gives you an overwhelming advantage in battle.

Just because you’re a mana user doesn’t mean you always fight while using up mana.

Considering that the battle will be long, you carefully adjust the amount of mana granted to the body strengthening and weapons.

The fact that your armor is often chipped away by enemy weapons during battle is also because mana is only granted to the armor within the range that avoids fatal wounds.

But if you have an endless amount of mana, such control is unnecessary.

Always in top condition, you can unilaterally push your opponents forward while pouring mana into both your weapons and armor.

"Sir Catherine, I couldn’t get enough mana until my dying body recovered and grew. But now I have more mana than you. Sir Curtis doesn’t look any sicklier than I did when I was sixteen. What do you think?"

"Even so, if you don’t have the qualities of a warrior before becoming a knight, then your limitations are clear. Shouldn’t confirming that be the priority?"

Carl gave a sly smile to Catherine, who only spoke the truth.

Catherine paused for a moment at the sight of Carl’s smile, which she hadn’t seen in a long time.

Had she ever seen Carl smile like that since that day in Himmeln?

"You are really consistent."

Nothing had changed, from then to now.

He was so old-fashioned that it made your mouth swell, and he always said the right thing.

"...Sorry."

"No. I’m just saying this because I remember the old days. You don’t have to worry about Sir Curtis’s abilities. If he’s skilled in battle, that’s great, but even if he isn’t, there’s a way to use him."

"I don’t think he has any magical talent."

Catherine was a little perplexed, wondering if Carl was going to teach Curtis magic.

First of all, you could say that he’s a genius just because he can use magic.