Lord of Caldera

"Think again. Toby is not someone fit to be a bodyguard."

The count desperately tried to dissuade Sylas. Just removing the title "Sir" from Toby showed how he felt about him.

"He has no loyalty, no honor, and no beliefs. He's just a fool obsessed with money and drowning in alcohol. How could you possibly take someone like that as your protector?"

People referred to him as the reckless knight Toby. He had many disgraceful nicknames, such as the gambling knight, the mouse lost in drink, and the money-crazed fool.

Naturally, no one among the count or his fellow knights had a good opinion of him. It was no wonder he was called the disgrace of the Corleone Order.

Because of his conduct, he was the only vassal among the knights of the Corleone family on a temporary contract rather than a lifetime one.

"I wouldn't mind if he were kicked out right now. A bodyguard, my foot."

"But father, you are still employing him, aren't you?"

"Well, it's because his combat skills are exceptional!"

The count shouted in an irritated voice.

"Regardless of his behavior, he fights like five knights. Thanks to him, many lives among the locals and knights have been saved, so it's better to keep him around."

If it weren't for that, he would have kicked him out long ago, the count sighed. Sylas hid a smile and muttered to himself.

'What I want is precisely that strength.'

In this world, there is no concept of sword energy or sword masters. No matter how much a human trains, they are still just human. However, when they do train, the potential for growth is much higher than on Earth.

If trained to the extreme, they can fight on par with trolls. That alone makes them formidable among regular soldiers, but it doesn't mean they can sweep across the battlefield alone.

If several knights who are weaker than him rush at him from all directions, he would be helpless, and if he's really unlucky, a single arrow shot by a soldier could take him down.

'But a very small number of humans are exceptions to this rule.'

Those with blood from beings stronger than humans in their lineage. Or those who are favored by gods or spirits and receive their strength.

Such individuals possess powers that transcend humanity as they train, often turning the tide of unfavorable battles with their mythic strength.

Toby was one of those exceptions. His bloodline was mixed with that of a storm giant.

Moreover, Toby will leave the family within a year.

He has caused multiple problems due to his reckless behavior, and right after causing an incident, he even demanded a pay raise from Count Bill.

Ultimately, the count, unable to tolerate him any longer, would kick Toby out despite his strength. If he didn't act now, he wouldn't have time to take him as a confidant.

"I understand what you're saying, Father. But I still want to make him my bodyguard."

"No, why Toby of all people?"

"Isn't it a shame to waste such power on someone whose behavior is so reckless? With just a little refinement, he could become a knight capable of turning the world upside down."

Sylas appealed to the count with a passionate expression.

"Please trust him to me. I will surely rehabilitate Sir Toby."

"Your intentions are commendable, but he is not someone who will change his mind..."

"Isn't it better than making no attempt at all?"

"True, it couldn't get any worse than it is now."

After a moment of hesitation, the count decided to grant Sylas's request. Who knows? Perhaps that reckless fool could become a bit more human. He didn't expect full rehabilitation; it would be a great success if he could just restrain his debauchery a little.

"Very well. I will appoint Toby as your bodyguard."

"Thank you."

"I'll call him over now, so you can at least see his face"

Count Bill ordered a servant to summon Toby. After a while, the servant returned alone. Seeing the servant's face ashen, the count asked:

"Why did you come back alone? Where is Sir Toby?"

"W-well..."

"Speak. Did he go out?"

"He said he can't come because he's... hungover..."

The count froze, and Sylas blinked in disbelief. No matter that it wasn't a lifetime contract, refusing a command from his lord? And the reason was a hangover. This was beyond imagination—he was truly a madman.

After a moment, the count, splashing cold water on his face, spoke in a trembling voice.

"Call Sir Roderick. Go with him to find Toby."

"Thank you."

"Even if you give up on rehabilitating him, I won't hold it against you."

"No, I will do my best."

Sylas thought to himself. He would make this fool kneel before him by the end of the day.

***

"It's been a while since I last saw Roderick, but this isn't exactly a situation for warm greetings."

After hearing the circumstances, Roderick erupted in anger.

"How could a knight dare to behave like that?"

Sylas nodded in agreement. While it was one thing to act up in front of other nobles, to defy his lord's command was simply outrageous. At this point, Toby seemed to regard himself more as a mercenary than a knight.

"What kind of person do you think Sir Toby is?"

Having been formally recognized by the count, Sylas spoke with more familiarity than before. Roderick naturally accepted this tone and responded.

"He's just as the rumors say. He's obsessed with money, indulges in women, and is drowning in alcohol."

Now he could add the title of disloyal wretch for refusing his lord's command to that description, he thought bitterly. After a short while, the two arrived at the lodging where Toby was staying.

"Sir Toby! Come out this instant!"

Roderick banged on the door and shouted. When there was no response from inside, he raised his voice even more.

"If you don't come out, I will break down this door!"

"Damn it, I'll come out, so stop making such a fuss."

Finally, the door creaked open. The knight who emerged had the tanned skin typical of southern folk. His hair was disheveled, and there was crust in his eyes, indicating that he had just woken up.