I Will Be the Greatest Knight
Chapter 227: Learning

Chapter 227: Learning

"Feeding on an ogre?" Stanley asked from where he sat in a corner, a large book on the table in front of him.

Despite the difficulty it was to get candles to the encampment, the mages still insisted on staying up late, sourcing books from other villages or townships, and altogether being difficult to work with because they didn’t trust the knights who didn’t trust them.

Each time they looked upon the knights suspiciously, Irene couldn’t help feeling bad that it was humans who made the mages act in such a way. If she could only communicate to the southerners that acting rude to the mages only furthered their mistrust, then things would likely go on much more smoothly.

When they arrived with their news of what they witnessed on the scouting trip, the knights from Hydrogia seemed hesitant to be forthcoming with what they witnessed.

It didn’t help that Commander Lothian seemed suspicious of mages as well, even though he insisted his men worked well with them.

Even if she couldn’t say something to sway the knights, Irene decided to speak to the mage instead.

"Yes," she confirmed. "They responded to the poison on one side of the valley where they were hiding. When they left the space to go to the other side, a half-eaten ogre was revealed to us. I’ve never seen the monsters eat one another."

When Stanley stopped turning the pages in his book, he pulled a quill from the desk drawer and began scratching down a bit of information.

"And no source of this poison to be seen, I assume?" Stanley continued.

"Nothing like that," Gunnar explained. "There were very few instances of witnessing the poison. In fact, we didn’t smell it the entire time we were in the hills. It’s almost as if this originates much closer to the Duke’s Tower. Of course, I have no proof of that. None of us have been able to get close enough to the Duke’s Tower to say whether or not it’s still polluted with the stuff."

"Then that must be the next objective," Stanley responded with a nod. "The only way we will leave this place is if we cut off the poison from its source."

"We know as much," Gunnar responded, his frustration clearly growing.

"Then return to me when you have more information on that front," Stanley responded coolly, ensuring that he didn’t stoop to the level of knights who were easily frustrated.

The mages took the lead in all things research regarding the black poison. Since it was their magic that was being used to try and cleanse the people who, unfortunately, had run-ins with it on the battlefield, everyone agreed that it was only fair that they take over.

However, it didn’t mean that Stanley suddenly became easier to boss around. The knights who pursued speaking to the mage through orders never got far.

They were forced to bend to the will of the mages, the only ones with the knowledge and powers to heal.

However, an interesting exception to this rule was a knight named Sir Maximus.

Irene suffered a cut that went down one of her legs and tore her pants during a skirmish with a couple of unexpected goblins while she was preparing meals for the knights. The apprentices were all caught off guard, facing more goblins than they were used to, until the knights could take notice of the struggle.

The girl then went to the infirmary tent to see if they could patch her up so she could resume as usual and help the others.

As she pushed through the flap opening, she stopped in her tracks when she saw a knight at one of the tables amongst mages. He was shoving herbs into small bottles or small pouches. His movements were full of frustration, but it seemed due to the work rather than the presence of other mages.

"Stanley?" Irene questioned as she walked inside. "Is there someone available to wrap my leg?"

The mage pointed to the knight sitting at the table and hardly paid more attention to the girl than that.

"Not large enough to use healing magic," the old mage stated. "He will wrap you up nice and snug."

She merely knit her eyebrows together at Stanley, but, as usual, did as she was told. She approached the knight, hoping she wasn’t bothering him based on his irritated expression.

"Sir...?"

"Sit here, kid," he directed, talking like an old knight despite likely not being much older than her. "Let me finish this."

Obediently, she sat and remained quiet until he was finally finished with the herbs. He brushed his hands together to get rid of the herbs on his fingers, then turned to the girl.

"Sir Maximus," he introduced. "What can I help with?"

Although it was rather obvious. The apprentice’s pants were torn and there were drops of blood going down her leg.

"Ah, you’re the one who was with Sir Alix in the fields when you first arrived," she realized. "I’m Iro."

"Right," he recalled. "Shall we wrap this quickly? You’ll have to roll up your pants."

Irene nodded and, again, merely did as she was told, but she couldn’t help her curiosity that crept up.

"You don’t mind the mages, sir?" she asked cautiously.

"Mind the mages?" he asked with a smirk. "I’m one of them."

"But you’re...?"

Her question was obvious to anyone who understood the dynamics of the mages. How could a mage wear armor and be adept in battle that didn’t involve magic?

"I’m a half mage who failed to establish his mana," Maximus explained. "Figured if I wasn’t going to be a healer like my mother, I might as well put myself to good use another way."

"I have never heard of something like this before," she admitted. "There are a lot of surprising things in the south."

"Well, I’m not from the south, I’m from Idona," he explained. "This will sting."

As he spoke, he handled her leg carefully before using a cloth and ointment to clean out the spot that was covered in dirt from the field where she was attacked.

The girl grimaced, but it didn’t stop the gears in her head from turning. She was amazed that there was a mage knight, but unfortunately, she didn’t have a chance to ask much more than that.

Her leg was wrapped, and she didn’t have another reason to go to the infirmary, at least for a while.

After all, people weren’t talking much at the encampment. They merely communicated the useful information and said nothing more than that.

This heavy silence lasted all the way until the snow started to melt, and it was time to clean up the encampment.