Saving the ruined Knights’ Order

Episode 6

Mook was someone who loved excitement. That trait played a huge role in his decision to become a mercenary.

Every day was filled with battles. He fought bandits attacking carriages, clashed with warriors, and even took down powerful monsters to earn money. Mook found great satisfaction in that life. He was proud to be a mercenary and enjoyed the thrill of new battles every day.

But when something happens too often, it stops feeling special.

Mook had been a mercenary for so long that the excitement faded. Battles no longer thrilled him. So, he went searching for a new kind of excitement.

That was when he discovered Harendel Chess.

The moment he started playing, he never lost a single match.

“How is this possible? Am I a genius?”

As he played more, the bets grew bigger. The fun doubled, and the thrill became overwhelming.

The first person who taught him chess? Mook defeated them in just a week. A month later, there was no one around who could beat him.

“There’s no one left who can match me?”

Even skilled chess players from faraway places came to challenge him. But no matter how many tried, they couldn’t defeat Mook.

At first, some could put up a fight, but after a few matches, Mook would analyze their strategies and completely crush them.

“I really am special.”

Over and over, he proved that he was different from others. Not only was he naturally gifted as a mercenary, but in Harendel Chess, he had no equal.

He lived his whole life believing that.

Until today.

“What… is this?”

For the first time, Mook felt the possibility that he might not be as special as he thought.

He had lost.

And the man who shattered his perfect record was named Isaac Wood.

“That was fun, Mook. It was so close—just a one-point difference.”

A challenger had appeared out of nowhere, wearing the hood of a wanderer.

But the difference didn’t matter. Whether it was one point or a hundred, Mook had lost.

For the first time, he felt something strange.

Something he had never experienced before.

A crushing, undeniable defeat.

“…No. I can’t let this happen.”

He couldn’t let the man who humbled him just walk away.

This wasn’t over.

For the first time in a long while, his heart burned with excitement.

“I lost this time, but next time, I’ll win.”

Mook loved excitement.

And there was no way he was letting Isaac leave just yet.

“One more round. Come on, you bastard.”

For Mook, Isaac was the ultimate source of excitement.

Outside the tavern, the sun had already set, and the world was dim. But inside, the place was eerily silent—too quiet to be called a gambling den.

No shouting. No outbursts.

Only the sound of people gasping in awe, breaking the tension every now and then.

And when a game ended, a collective breath was released, as if everyone had been holding it in.

“Unbelievable. He won again.”

“Mook couldn’t even fight back. I’ve never seen him lose like this before.”

“Finally! Someone who put that arrogant mercenary in his place!”

The crowd was on fire.

At the center of all the attention, Mook sat frozen in shock.

I looked at him and smiled softly.

“Another victory for me. Five points ahead. That was fun.”

“Shut up! One more round!”

Of course, Mook wasn’t the type to give up.

The result was always the same.

“You lost again. Eight points this time. Looks like your focus is slipping. Should we stop here?”

“Shut up! If I hadn’t moved my knight forward, I would’ve won! One more match!”

Even as the situation worsened, Mook fought back with sharp instincts and quick judgment.

But the truth was obvious.

He was losing.

“Damn it! Damn it!”

“One-point difference. You almost had me that time. That was close.”

“Shut up and play again!”

And so, for over three hours, we played.

But no matter how many times we did, Mook never won a single match.

With each loss, his expression grew darker.

I watched as his frustration built up, his face turning red with anger.

It was time.

Bringing Mook into the knights’ order wasn’t something that could be done with a single victory.

If it were that easy, it wouldn’t be called a special recruitment plan.

This was like catching a rare fish.

It took patience, endurance, and just the right balance of pressure and release.

If I didn’t completely break his pride first, I’d never be able to reel him in.

And in gambling dens, there was always one thing that made people desperate—money.

“Wow. Is all that money from Mook?”

At a glance, silver coins were stacked high in front of me.

Of course, all of it was money I had won from him.

Which meant Mook’s funds were running out.

I smirked and asked,

“Are you sure you want to keep going? Looks like you’re out of money.”

“…Yeah.”

And my guess was right.

Mook lowered his head, unable to say anything.

He clenched his fists, his face burning red.

His pride was in shambles. His anger boiled inside him.

He was young—not yet a fully matured man.

And that was exactly what I was waiting for.

With a voice full of fake kindness, I made my final offer.

“Alright. Since you want it so badly, let’s have one last match.”

“Really?”

Mook’s head, which had been hanging low in defeat, snapped up. His face lit up with excitement.

For all his toughness, he really was like a kid sometimes.

I shrugged.

“Yeah, but there’s a condition.”

“A… condition?”

Mook’s voice sounded hollow, as if his soul had left his body.

I hid my amused smile and pulled out a piece of paper from my coat.

“If you win, I’ll return all the money I took from you.”

“Wait… what?”

“But if you lose, you sign this.”

“Sign?”

Mook squinted at the fancy lettering on the document and slowly read the first line.

“Palantir Knights… enlistment contract?”

His eyes widened in disbelief. He snatched the paper and scanned it from top to bottom.

Then he frowned and muttered,

“You want me… to become a knight?”

I didn’t answer. I simply nodded.

Mook was someone who valued freedom above all else.

And in his eyes, knights were the complete opposite of that.

They were bound by rules, weighed down by honor and duty.

To him, becoming a knight was like putting on shackles.

“Ha! That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard! I’m a mercenary! A mercenary!”

Mook, who had spent his whole life enjoying freedom, saw my offer as no different from throwing himself into a cage.

I gently pulled the contract from his hands and smirked.

“You just have to win. Then it won’t matter, right? And this money… it’s important to you, isn’t it?”

Mook swallowed hard.

Mercenaries didn’t have stable incomes.

They had to spend money on armor, weapons, and supplies just to survive.

If he lost his entire fortune here, he’d be forced to live frugally for a long time.

As he hesitated, I delivered the final push.

“The last match was a one-point difference. If I had made even one small mistake, you would have won. It’s a pretty good gamble for you, don’t you think?”

For the first time, Mook’s sharp eyes flickered with uncertainty.

“Damn it… I was so close. That’s right… if I win, I don’t have to sign anything. I get my money back…”

But he was too deep in his thoughts.

His focus was slipping.

Even the spectators watching started whispering.

“Isn’t this a trap? That guy looks like he’s already lost his mind.”

“Wait, that guy’s a knight commander? Can they even come to places like this?”

“Well, gambling is legal, so I guess there’s no problem?”

Mook was lost in his own world, wrestling with his thoughts.

Then, suddenly—

“Fine!”

He made his decision.

With a determined face, he nodded.

“Let’s do it! I just have to win, right?”

And so, the final match began.

***

An hour later…

“Sign here.”

Scratch, scratch.

“And put your seal there.”

Press.

“There are formal procedures to officially become a knight, but as the commander, I have the authority to recommend you. So don’t worry about that part.”

…

I took the signed contract and carefully folded it. Then, with a smirk, I reached out and patted Mook’s head.

“Welcome to the Palantir Knights, Sir Mook Mark.”

“…Huh?”

Mook blinked in confusion. His dazed eyes shifted back to the chessboard.

For a whole hour, we had fought an intense battle.

The last match had been especially interesting.

The spectators, who had been watching closely, gasped in admiration.

“W-Wait… That’s the Hammer and Anvil strategy!”

“Was that even possible in chess?”

On the board, Mook’s pieces were completely surrounded by my soldiers and cavalry.

It was a perfect execution of the famous Hammer and Anvil strategy.

Mook didn’t even bother standing up. Instead, he let out a weak, disbelieving voice.

“How… how did you do that, old man?”

“Hm?”

“I’ve never seen anyone actually use that tactic before.”

His question was so sincere, I couldn’t help but chuckle.

I shrugged and replied,

“How old are you again?”

“…Huh?”

“You’re still too young to think you’ve seen everything. The world is much bigger than you imagine. Bigger than this tiny chessboard.”

“And the world of knights is even wider. There are countless things you’ve never seen before, waiting for you. The life of a knight… might be far more exciting than you expect.”

Mook swallowed hard.

The word exciting had caught his interest.

Then, after a moment, he grinned.

“Alright. I’ll believe you… just this once.”

It was a strong, confident answer.

I laughed and clapped his shoulder.

“Good. That’s the spirit. Oh, and before you start your new life as a knight, let me give you some useful advice. Come closer for a second…”

Mook tilted his head and leaned in.

I whispered in his ear,

“Life is real combat, kid. And by the way… from now on, call me Commander, Sir Mook Mark.”

Life is a battlefield. Never take it lightly.

That was the harsh lesson my father had drilled into me.

Mook’s body stiffened.

I stepped back slightly, still smiling, but my eyes were sharp.

The sudden change in my expression made Mook flinch.

What a rude kid. Talking casually and calling me “old man” from the start.