I’m a Holy Knight, but I Contracted with an Evil God - Chapter 31

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 31.

The border city of Orden, where red clay dust swirled through the air.
Orden was the first gateway beyond the Nerva River into the Eastern Provinces, and the last frontier where imperial authority held sway.
Perhaps that was why.
A strange insularity clung to the air of Orden.
Those who lived treading on barren red earth yet yearned to prove themselves different from those uncultured easterners—a twisted superiority complex peculiar to border towns.

“Tch. Just our luck. Snake eyes first thing in the morning.”
“The end times. Some eastern peasant playing at being a knight.”

The moment they passed through the city gates and entered the streets, sticky gazes affixed themselves to the two travelers.
Most were pointed jeers directed not at Leon but at Tristan, yet the man who seemed ready to seize someone by the throat at any instant responded with unexpected composure.

“Ridiculous.”

He muttered the curse under his breath while maintaining thorough indifference, his expression worn not by anger but by weary tedium.
Tristan moved as if such things were routine to him, yet both his hands remained locked firmly around the hilts of his swords.
A testament to his patience drawing a razor-thin line at the edge of breaking.

【Unexpected. I thought you’d start a quarrel immediately.】
‘If he had that kind of temper, he couldn’t have maintained his rank as an Elite Knight all this time.’
【Your behavior toward me doesn’t seem that controlled at all.】
‘He knows when and where to draw the line, I suppose.’

The two entered a ramshackle tavern located deep within the back alleys of Orden.
A place where the reek of hard liquor and cigarette smoke hung thick even in daylight.
Tristan approached a man sitting at a corner table with familiar ease.
An informant.

“I hear merchant caravans have been disappearing near the Nerva River lately. You heard anything?”

Tristan pushed a small coin across the table while pretending to look away, his gaze deliberately distant.
The informant accepted the coin and examined it before responding.

“Well… things have been ominous lately, you see. If you want to include the cost of my life, it’ll run you more than that.”

The informant tapped the table rhythm with his fingers, his audacity on full display.
The coin he’d received earlier had long since disappeared into his pocket.
Tristan’s face darkened with disapproval, his brow furrowing.

“Keep it reasonable. Even back alleys have their limits, don’t they?”
“Why so threatening? Already forgot that information has its market price? I heard several knights died in Arcerriel, and now you’ve forgotten something that basic…?”
“…”

Bang!

The table split in two with a tremendous crack.
Before the informant could even scream, Tristan’s hand seized him by the throat and hoisted him into the air.

“Ugh, uhhgh!”
“Say that again.”

Tristan’s eyes had flooded crimson with burst blood vessels.
His tone remained measured, yet his amber eyes gleamed as if reason had fled him long ago.
The ruffians nearby stirred and rose with uneasy muttering, but none dared approach—held back by the murderous aura radiating from Tristan.

“Tristan.”

Then Leon’s measured voice cut through the superheated air.
But Tristan kept his gaze fixed on the informant without turning away as he replied.

“Don’t stop me.”
“Killing him would be inconvenient.”
“Don’t stop me…….”

Tristan, who had been answering irritably, found himself doubting his ears at Leon’s next words.

“We get the information first, then we kill him.”

It wasn’t an objection to killing at all.
It was Tristan who was left speechless by that cold assertion—that they needed to extract what they wanted before disposing of him.
While Tristan turned his head in disbelief, Leon approached the informant hanging limply by his collar with an impassive expression.
Then, gently wrapping one of the informant’s fingers as it flailed uselessly in the air, he gripped it.

Crack.

“Aaaahhhhh!”

A dull snapping sound punctuated the tavern, followed by a scream.
Leon didn’t so much as blink as he held the twisted finger and whispered softly.

“My superior is quite upset. His temper burns like wildfire—I’m afraid I can’t talk him down.”
“Agh! My hand! You crazy bastards!”
“Choose. Either all your remaining fingers break, or you tell us everything while you still have at least one intact.”

The ash-gray eyes meeting the informant’s gaze were cold as winter.

‘This kid is insane!’

He’d thought the boy looked harmless at first glance, but this one was far worse than the Eastern Provinces bastard who’d twisted his collar. Far worse.
From experience, quiet methodical ones like this boy were far more dangerous than wild rampaging dogs.
And instinctively, he understood.
This young thing threatening in a soft voice—if he didn’t get the answers he wanted, he really would break every last finger and smile doing it.

“I, I’ll talk! I’ll tell you!”
“Yes, go on.”
“Th, there were rumors!”
“What kind?”
“R, recently the nearby villages have had strict curfews. Once the sun sets, nobody goes outside the doors!”
At the informant’s words, Tristan snapped irritably.
“Stop spouting nonsense. In the Eastern Provinces, not wandering around at night is common sense.”
“That’s not what I mean!”
The informant cried out in protest, but seeing Tristan’s cold expression, his shoulders hunched again.
Then he added carefully.
“Not long ago, rumors started spreading that children were disappearing in large numbers—no, not just children either, but healthy adults too.”
“Disappearing?”
Tristan repeated the word, turning his gaze toward Leon.
And he recalled the map Ayla had shown him just before they left the Order—the one marked with the locations of Missing Persons.
Leon seemed to remember the same thing, for their eyes met briefly in the silence between them.
“You can put him down now, I think.”
…….

Tristan, his expression weary, hurled the informant to the ground.
Released from that grip, the informant scrabbled across the floor on his hands and knees, terror blazing in his eyes as he fled.

“Are you out of your mind?”

It was Tristan’s first words after they’d left the tavern, his silence having stretched on for some time.
Leon replied with a face that said he had no idea what the man was talking about.

“What do you mean by that?”
“How could you cause such a commotion?”
“You speak plainly, but it was Tristan who started the commotion in the first place.”
“Still, we can’t go around using violence on behalf of the Order’s honor!”

Tristan said this while gesturing to both his and Leon’s White Cloaks.
The ornate garments bore the emblem of Arcerriel.
To anyone who saw them, the cloaks made their origins immediately apparent.
Leon regarded Tristan’s gesture in silence before responding.

“You said this was the Eastern Provinces, where fists matter more than law. I simply adapted.”

Watching Leon reply with such ease, Tristan found himself at a loss for words.
This youngster understood the coarse, unforgiving nature of the Eastern Provinces with an instinctive clarity that Tristan himself lacked.
Far more composed than a man swayed by his own emotions.
Tristan had no choice but to concede the point.

‘Babysitting won’t be necessary, then.’

This one was no mere child who needed Tristan’s care.
At the very least, he was a talent worthy of recognition as a fellow Elite Knight.
Tristan suppressed a bitter laugh and took the lead.
In the set of his shoulders, no trace of dismissal or suspicion toward Leon remained.

* * *

“One bottle of Red Yarrow Liquor, and two portions of Rock Boar Dish as well.”

The moment Tristan sat down, he rattled off his order with practiced ease. A server soon set a crude bottle and wooden cups on the table.
Tristan filled a cup brimming full and drained it in a single draught.
The gesture was thoroughly familiar.

…….

Watching Tristan, Leon silently sipped from his water cup instead.
Since Leon knew well the taste of the liquor Tristan was drinking, his throat felt parched.
When Tristan noticed Leon licking his lips and staring at him intently, he broke into a crooked smile and taunted him.

“Don’t covet it. That’s strong spirits—beyond a boy like you.”

Saying this, Tristan deliberately swirled the bottle in front of Leon’s face.
Leon said nothing in return, only glaring at him quietly.
Then Ecrize’s voice, touched with amusement, slipped into Leon’s ear.

【My, my. This is the first time I’ve seen you rise to that man’s bait. What brings this on?】
‘That liquor. It’s one of the Eastern Provinces’ delicacies.’
【You like spirits? That’s rich coming from a so-called Holy Knight.】
‘What are you saying? There’s no prohibition against drinking in Arcerriel’s doctrine.’

Leon shot back this retort and licked his lips again.
He kept drinking the water assigned to him in quick succession, but the fragrant aroma of the liquor tickling his nostrils was impossible to ignore.

“……Well now? Not lying either. This local brew is brutally strong—nothing like the ordinary spirits you might sneak from the Order’s dining hall.”
“I’m aware.”

Knowing this made the temptation all the harder to resist.
He knew all too well that it was a spirit ferociously potent yet ferociously fragrant.
Unaware of Leon’s thoughts, Tristan added with a note of mockery:

“It’s a shame, but aim for next time. How old are you again? Fifteen? If you’re sixteen, you’ll be able to drink it then. Maybe next time you visit, you’ll get your chance.”

It seemed Tristan found Leon’s reaction — unexpectedly engaged, considering he rarely showed any real response — worth elaborating on.
So Tristan’s question was merely a continuation of that train of thought.
He never imagined it would become a trap of his own making.

“Come to think of it, when’s your birthday? So you can drink this the moment you turn sixteen…….”
“It’s already passed.”
“……What?”

The cup froze halfway to Tristan’s lips.

“I’m sixteen now.”
Silence hung between them for a moment.
Tristan blinked in bewilderment, then started doing the math in his head.

“Wait. You were definitely fifteen when we left the Light Order, weren’t you?”
“I was.”
“So your birthday passed sometime during the journey?”
“Yes.”

The drink suddenly lost its appeal.
Not that it was Tristan’s fault, of course.
The two of them weren’t close enough for that kind of intimate knowledge to be expected.
In fact, Tristan rarely even remembered the birthdays of fellow knights he considered close friends, let alone acquaintances.
So missing Leon’s birthday along the way was hardly a matter worth dwelling on.
The real problem was something else entirely.

‘……Of all ages to turn, sixteen…….’
For someone from the Eastern Provinces like Tristan, turning sixteen held a special significance.
Unlike the Central regions, the Eastern Provinces recognized sixteen-year-olds as adults.
In the Eastern Provinces, a sixteenth birthday was the most important day — the day a child was acknowledged as a grown person, celebrated as having become a true warrior.
And throughout that entire journey, the one containing Leon’s birthday, Tristan had treated him with deliberate harshness.
Far from extending to him the respect due a warrior, he’d done nothing but drive him like a pack mule.

‘……And it had to be sixteen, of all things…….’

Tristan ran a rough hand through the back of his hair, mussing it.
Leon simply stared at him with a bewildered expression, clearly at a loss.

“You should have……, why didn’t you say anything?”
“Say what, sir?”
“That it was your birthday! If I’d known, at least that day……, dammit!”
“It wasn’t anything important. Please don’t concern yourself with it.”

His flat tone only made it worse.
Tristan, bristling now, yanked at his hair again before bellowing at a passing server.

“One more specialty steak! The biggest, most expensive one you’ve got!”
“Eh? The portion we brought earlier was already quite…….”
“No questions — bring it! And——!”

Tristan cleared his throat, glancing sidelong at Leon.

“Another bottle of Red Yarrow Liquor. Bring a glass with it.”
From Leon’s perspective, the reasoning was opaque, but since the bill wasn’t coming from his own purse, he held his tongue.
Still, he asked one thing.
“Why the change of heart, sir? You said strong spirits were too much for a boy.”
“……In the Eastern Provinces, sixteen is the age of adulthood. If your birthday’s passed, you’ve earned the right.”
Ah.
Leon grasped Tristan’s meaning at once.
He barely suppressed a laugh rising in his throat as he accepted the glass the server brought.
“Drink it slowly. It’s no exaggeration to call this a spirit.”
“Yes.”
The moment Leon took the glass, he brought it to his lips with natural ease, and Tristan launched into a lecture about it, but Leon emptied the cup in one swallow as though his affirmation was mere courtesy.
Tristan’s face twisted with disapproval as he watched him.
“If you get drunk, I’m leaving you behind.”
“Understood. Do as you see fit.”
His smiling face remained composed.
This bastard—
That single cup would have knocked him senseless if his tolerance were weak.
Tristan regarded him with an astonished expression and shook his head.
“Did you steal communion wine from the Order’s dining hall? You’re too natural at this.”
“Let’s say that’s what happened.”
Leon answered with a lick of his lips.
His eyes lingered regretfully on the empty glass, but he didn’t reach for another.
Instead, he changed the subject and spoke.
“What’s the plan now?”
“Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow and beyond.”
At Leon’s question, Tristan rubbed his chin instead of answering.
Complex thoughts seemed to flicker across his furrowed brow before he spoke.
“If what the informant said is true, we’ll need to sweep through all the surrounding villages.”
“It would be better to hear directly from people, certainly, but will that be possible?”
“Why not?”
“The Eastern Provinces have strong suspicions of outsiders.”
The difference in appearance would make them wary of one another.
Just as the Light Order had been a barrier for Tristan, an Easterner, so too would it be deeply difficult for an outsider to uncover the inner affairs of the Eastern Provinces.
Leon’s concern had been precisely that, but Tristan’s answering smile suggested he found no humor in the worry.
“That’s why I’m here.”
His amber eyes gleamed with confidence.
Since their first meeting in the Round Table’s chamber, it was the most age-appropriate expression Tristan had shown.
Tristan adjusted the Twin Swords crossed at his waist as he added, “Get some proper sleep. We leave at dawn.”
Continues in next chapter ▶
A Holy Knight bound by contract to an evil god
Author
Ram Dat
Publishers
Kim Seok-hwan, Choi Se-ra
Published by
Grae Publishing
Inquiries
[email protected]
Publication Date
March 27, 2026
UCI
G720:N+A327-20260227066
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※ Pentagram welcomes precious manuscripts from writers.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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