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In truth, Laura had a rough idea of who Rahan was from what she'd heard from Abbot Wilbert. She had also picked up bits and pieces while cleaning up the chaotic wedding venue.
‘Isn't that guy Rahan Norwich?!’
‘It seems so!’
Recalling the knights shouting, she guessed that he was the son of a prominent family.
Forty goats—wait, thirty-eight—were nothing to brag about.
Iris was the daughter of a noble house. No matter how he had kidnapped her, there was no way the marriage would be valid if he were a commoner.
If a commoner thug had kidnapped a noble's daughter and spent the first night with her, his head would likely be hanging from the gates of Arnsberg.
Therefore, he was certainly a noble.
Furthermore, look at the man's waist. Laura's sharp eyes had already noted the belt loop on Rahan's waist. There was a deep mark where a sword would hang. He was a swordsman who carried a longsword.
At the very least, it meant he was a knight.
“You idiot.”
Eventually, Laura smacked Robbie on the back of the head. He turned around with an indignant face.
“Why did you hit me!”
“Does Iris not have arms and legs? If she hated him, she would have run away long ago, you brat! Hurry up and apologize!”
“Huh?”
Robbie looked bewildered. At the same time, she saw the man standing behind them narrowing his eyes into a smile.
Laura sighed inwardly. This damn brat needs to fix his habit of picking fights with anyone.
Additionally, Laura significantly upgraded her evaluation of Rahan.
If he were a typical noble, there would be nothing wrong with him cutting off Robbie's head right now. But for some reason, the man was treating the two of them like ordinary villagers.
Of course, in this case, if Laura were to beg for forgiveness while calling him “My Lord!”, it would likely go against his intentions.
Calculating this, Laura smiled brightly.
“I'm sorry, handsome young man. Your name is Rahan, was it?”
“That is correct.”
“My, Iris and Rahan! Your names are a perfect match!”
“Oh!”
Iris's eyes widened. It seemed she had only just realized that both their names derived from Eridrahan.
Laura chatted away as she pushed Robbie outside.
“Let us know if you need anything, alright?”
“I will.”
Rahan also grinned. He then held out something he had been carrying under his arm. Iris let out a scream of delight.
“Wild strawberries!”
“I found some while scouting the area. They seemed edible.”
A knight's virtue is waking up early. Though monks wake up early, Rahan likely woke up even earlier.
He had woken up at dawn, feeling the chill in the air.
Iris was fast asleep, perhaps exhausted from cleaning the cottage. So, he had added more wood to the fireplace and taken the opportunity to scout the further surroundings he hadn't checked yesterday.
The area around the cottage was quite rich in food. Next to the wide wheat fields, many other crops were planted, and there was a small forest surrounding the monastery.
The forest led to a large hill, where several wild animals lived.
He had discovered the wild strawberry bushes while exploring the forest.
‘They're sweet.’
The moment he saw the bright red, ripe strawberries, he thought of Iris, who had been delighted yesterday evening while breaking a piece of white bread with honey and putting it in her mouth.
Does she like sweet things?
The red juice staining his fingers and palms as he picked the strawberries also reminded him of the woman's cheeks.
Eventually, Rahan joined several large oak leaves together and gathered the strawberries inside.
‘I wonder if she'll like these too.’
Naturally, he had hurried back.
And to think some punk had come to his house.
‘Divorce him and marry me!’
Well, well. She spent her whole life in a monastery, but it seems she was quite popular.
For some reason, Rahan felt a bit petty, so he glared at the goats tied in front of the door. One of the horned goats let out a “Maaaa,” as if protesting.
Regardless, Auntie Laura and Iris were listing the things the cottage lacked one by one.
“We need flour, and we don't have much salt. We haven't paid the tax on firewood yet, so I think we'll have to buy some from the village...”
“Just tell the carpenter to sell you some leftover wood!”
“Ah, we need to buy a bed too...”
That damn bed.
Rahan, who had been listening to their conversation, quickly turned his head away, pretending not to notice.
Last night, after some bickering, the two had concluded, ‘Since it's hard to sleep together right now anyway, let's sleep separately and think about it when we wake up.’
And it seemed the conclusion Iris had reached was to buy a bed.
“How much would a good bed cost?”
“I wonder? Wouldn't bringing it here be a bigger deal than making one? Before that, do you have the money?”
“Ah, it's a bit lacking, but...”
Iris fidgeted. It seemed she wanted to show him the gold coins Abbot Wilbert had given her. Rahan thought it would be better not to reveal them, and just as he was about to speak—
“Ah, why on earth are you trying to earn money when there's a perfectly capable man right here? You could just hunt some magical beasts!”
Robbie, leaning against the doorframe, snapped irritably. Rahan raised an eyebrow.
“Magical beasts? Do those still appear around here?”
“Oh, Robbie is just talking,” Iris said, waving her hand with a smile.
Magical beasts. They were remnants of the ancient era when mages existed. The mages, servants of the demons, had brought plagues and magical beasts upon the Foldenbach continent.
Those who stood against them were the priests of Eridrahan, who served the one true god, and the Empire had succeeded in completely eradicating the mages a hundred years ago.
The place where the last mage died happened to be near this very Wind Rock Monastery.
“I'm not just talking! Not long ago, a werewolf appeared and ate a goat!”
Robbie snapped again. It was a fact—though mixed with some exaggeration. Auntie Laura let out a sigh.
“Robbie. Just because a wolf walks on two legs doesn't mean it's a werewolf.”
“But it did walk on two legs!”
“Yes. And then it immediately started running on four.”
As Rahan widened his eyes, Auntie Laura shrugged.
“It was something that could be called a magical beast, though. Its eyes were red.”
“Ah.”
Animals corrupted by the power of demons become magical beasts. Magical beasts with the Red Eyes of demons cause plagues simply by existing, and they lose their reason, harming even humans without hesitation.
“Since this is the western edge of the continent, they do appear occasionally. It's rare, but not unheard of.”
This area was where the mages who borrowed the power of demons had finally perished. No one knew exactly where.
Regardless, perhaps for that reason, magical beasts appeared here on rare occasions. The same was true for a few other regions where mana was said to remain. Consequently, temples in most major cities would exchange the carcasses of magical beasts for gold coins.
“But the village men stabbed it with spears and it died right away. Must've been a weak one. They cut off the wolf's head, took it all the way to Arnsberg, got five gold coins, and the whole village had a feast.”
Rahan tilted his head.
“Doesn't Abbot Wilbert know how to perform a Sanctuary Declaration?”
The reason Wind Rock Monastery still held its reputation despite being so poor and decayed was that the divine power of the abbot, Priest Wilbert, was deep enough to reach the level of declaring a Sanctuary.
That ability to declare that God had descended upon a small piece of land was possible only for those with exceptionally deep faith among the priests capable of wielding divine power.
It was said that many priests could do it until a hundred years ago, but now only a vestige of that tradition remained.
In any case, magical beasts were beings that crumbled insignificantly under the power of God. Thus, the best way to defeat them was a Sanctuary Declaration.
Within the Sanctuary declared by priests, magical beasts met a powerless death.
In a rural village like this, where it was hard to find a skilled swordsman, it was the best way to hunt magical beasts without anyone getting hurt.
“Goodness, why bother the Abbot for such a small thing?”
However, Laura laughed heartily and waved her hand. She meant it was too much fuss to call the abbot for a werewolf that could be killed with a single spear thrust.
But there was likely another reason.
“It's not like the Abbot is the type to take money from the villagers,” Iris added.
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