Grimm: Ch. 13

---Grimm's POV---

Looking at Bernhardt swinging his sword, I shook my head. Despite his earnest effort, his short arms combined with his stout frame made his movements seem awkward, as if he couldn't fully unleash his strength.

It was already early morning. The servants delivering meals were busy, and it was time to head back for breakfast.

"Let's go, Bernhardt. Eat first; you'll need your energy to keep practicing."

"Huff..." Bernhardt, clearly not used to such strenuous exercise, had a flushed, round face and was panting heavily.

"Alright..."

I sheathed my sword, and we returned to the guest room for breakfast. That morning's meal was bread and cheese.

After briefly informing Kadi, we headed out. Rumor had it that the Dragon Knights had scored an impressive victory and would return to the castle by the afternoon. To strengthen the bonds between the new recruits and the seasoned knights, the king would host another banquet tonight, which promised to be even more elaborate than the previous one.

We only needed to be back before curfew, as we might be stationed at the Knights' camp starting the next day.

From early morning, numerous nobles had arrived from afar, accompanied by their wives and daughters, making the day seem destined to be bustling.

After walking for nearly an hour, we arrived at the lower streets. I wanted to inquire about the cost of crafting a helmet since I lacked any armor. Using the one in my spatial storage would draw too much attention.

It was around eight o'clock when we found an armory. Initially, the blacksmith wasn't interested in dealing with a child but, noticing the large sword strapped to my back, assumed I was an attendant sent on an errand and casually asked, "What kind of armor does your master want?"

"It's not for my master. I want some gear for myself. Who knows, I might be heading to the battlefield soon."

The blacksmith was stunned by this remark and took a closer look at me. What sort of master would send a child to war?

"You're not joking, are you?"

The blacksmith scrutinized me repeatedly. Upon meeting my gaze, his experienced eyes seemed to discern the truth. The hollow emptiness and faint hint of killing intent in my eyes betrayed me.

I had killed before.

Although rare, in a world as chaotic as this, such things weren't unheard of.

"What do you want to see? Just so you know, leather armor starts at 5 silver coins, chainmail at 10 silver coins, scale armor at 15 silver coins, and full plate armor at a minimum of 5 gold coins."

"I'll start with helmets." Though mentally prepared for the high cost of equipment, I was still taken aback. The prices were extravagant, considering how cheap a loaf of bread was and how difficult it was for the impoverished even to afford that.

After looking through the options, none seemed quite suitable.

I thought of a Spartan-style helmet, inspired by the movie scene of 300 warriors facing tens of thousands of Persian soldiers—a striking image.

Historically, seven thousand men had battled a force over ten times their size, taking down some twenty thousand Persian soldiers.

After a simple discussion with the blacksmith and considering that a helmet adorned with crests would be both conspicuous and expensive, I sketched a rough design. As it was a custom order, the final price was 10 silver coins, but the blacksmith, seeing my young age, agreed to 8 silver coins for a smaller helmet.

I inquired about other armor prices but found them beyond my current means. The combat gear in my spatial storage had a layer of chainmail, providing decent protection.

I decided to order a front-and-back scale armor vest, tied with straps, costing 10 silver coins—equivalent to half a gold coin. It would be ready in two weeks.

Bernhardt, after much hesitation, bought a set of leather armor. Luckily, the blacksmith gave us a discount, charging only 5 silver coins, leaving Bernhardt with just a few dozen copper coins.

We didn't lack melee weapons. Bernhardt already had a squire's sword, while William's sword was too damaged from intense battles to be of use.

Now, all we needed was a lightweight, practical crossbow. The throwing knives in our backpack might also come in handy.

Checking out the weapons shop for good items wasn't a bad idea, though the weapons offered to children weren't particularly impressive.

"This one is lightweight. This one has great power; it's called an explosive bolt. It's expensive, though—1 silver and 80 copper coins each, worth 240 copper coins. Perfect for saving your life on the battlefield!"

The strange device looked just like the miniature bombs seen in anime, the kind Rickert would play with.

"I want five. Can you give me a discount?"

"Oh, dear young master, my goods are top-quality! One-time deal: 1,000 copper coins. I can't go any lower!"

"Alright." I readily took out 6 silver coins and 60 copper coins from my pouch. Although my funds had significantly dwindled, I was still relatively wealthy—at least by a commoner's standards.

After finishing our shopping for equipment, it was time to head to the market for some food. I wondered happily whether I might run into that little girl again today.

However, the streets seemed much busier than usual. Judging by the time we'd spent browsing, it was likely early afternoon—around one or two o'clock—and the streets were packed with people.

The main avenue leading from the city gates to the castle was especially lively. Crowds gathered, cheering joyfully, creating a festive atmosphere.

"Come on, let's go check it out too."

I pulled Bernhardt along as we squeezed through the crowd to a spot near the front. Listening to the chatter around us, we learned that the victorious Dragon Knights had returned!

The ladies were eager to catch a glimpse of the handsome Commander Julius and the knights' chivalrous demeanor. They wanted to see just how tall and imposing these knights—reputed to be one of the strongest groups in Midor—were, capable of bringing victory to their nation.

The men cheered for the triumphant warriors, their eyes filled with admiration and longing. Many seemed to dream of joining the knights themselves, following such a leader, and becoming respected heroes.

As the Dragon Knights entered the city, the streets were showered with flowers. Young women threw handkerchiefs from balconies, their hearts full of romantic hopes, wishing to find a good husband among the knights.

Although most commoners' daughters could only hope to become concubines to the nobility, at least that life offered a respite from the poverty where even a slice of bread was a luxury.

At the forefront rode Julius, his golden hair gleaming in the sunlight. In the prime of his life, he was the picture of youthful vitality. Handsome and mature, his face bore no trace of the bulkier, rougher visage he would have in the anime's later timeline. He looked every bit a spirited and ambitious young man.

He rode proudly through the cobblestone streets of the city, beaming with joy. Winning this victory for his country filled him with pride.

"Did you hear? They say Julius will be engaged upon his return."

"Yes, I heard she's a beautiful woman."

So he wasn't married yet at this point. That made sense; his assassination wouldn't happen for another decade or so. I found it hard to believe that this feudal-minded, jealous duke had once been so youthful and full of promise.

Almost the entire city had gathered to witness the grand spectacle. I watched as people filled the streets, including children, who perched at corners, rooftops, and windows.

The knights' armor came in various designs, all predominantly silver-white, and their majestic steeds were adorned with equally ornate barding.

Once the knights passed, Bernhardt and I turned toward the tailor's shop.

The tailor and his wife appeared to have just returned from the streets themselves, chatting and praising the Dragon Knights' exploits.

"… Here to pick up your clothes, Grimm?"

"Yeah. How are they coming along?"

As we talked, Bernhardt went to the back to change into his new outfit.

Outside, the excited chatter of children rang out, and it seemed one of them was the tailor's son.

---Third POV---

"Wow, the Dragon Knights are so cool!! Tonight, we have to play them… No, let's do it right now!"

"Yes! They're amazing!"

"Let's start right away!!"

"I'll grab some props…"

As Paulus hopped back into his family's tailor shop, he immediately spotted a familiar figure. He froze, staring at the massive sword on Grimm's back.

Wait… Isn't that—!?

Feeling the boy's gaze, Grimm turned and gave him a friendly smile.

Panicking, Paulus quickly pretended to rummage for something and bolted outside.

---

"Boss! Boss! Huff…" he finally caught up with Gerald and the others, gasping for breath. Most of the other kids had gone back to grab props, leaving only Gerald and Jan behind.

"What's wrong, Paulus? Don't tell me you want to start the game already?" Gerald asked curiously.

Jan, who had planned to head home to take care of some things, stayed back for the conversation. Seeing Paulus' flustered state, he realized something was up.

"Huff… Boss, it's about…"

"?"

"That guy—the one who stole your toy—that… Grimm!" Paulus was so winded, he could barely form a coherent sentence.

"What!? Where? Where is he?" Gerald perked up immediately at the mention of the name, but Paulus' scattered explanation was driving him crazy.

"He's at my house! Right—"

Before Paulus could finish, Gerald bolted, with Jan quickly following suit.

"… Hey! Wait for me!" Paulus, still out of breath, chased after them as fast as he could.

---

"That fits pretty well—it suits you," Grimm said with a smile, complimenting Bernhardt. When properly dressed, Bernhardt's looks and demeanor were decent enough, and now he appeared both sharp and sturdy.

"Heh heh heh, yeah! You've got great taste, boss!"

Bernhardt admired himself in his new outfit: a coarse, fleece-lined red tunic with a cinched waist, paired with drawstring linen shorts, woolen stockings, and sturdy boots.

Every piece was practical, perfect for early winter. Though the season was just starting to cool, wearing new clothes made him feel like his entire demeanor had improved.

Their leather coats weren't needed urgently and would be ready by midwinter, around November. It was only early October now, with a slight chill in the air.

Grimm handed over a silver coin to pay for Bernhardt's outfit. Bernhardt had tried to decline, wanting to pay himself, but after buying leather armor, he was down to only about 60 copper coins.

He patted Bernhardt's shoulder, insisting on covering it, reminding him it had been agreed upon from the start.

As they chatted and exited the shop, they walked toward the corner of an alley.

"You'll have plenty of chances to pay me back…"

Thud!

"Ugh!!"

Just as they entered the alley, Grimm was sucker-punched in the nose. Blood gushed out instantly, and the sharp pain made him want to curse, tears welling up from the sting.

"What the hell!?" he shouted.

Bernhardt's temper flared instantly.

He glared at the three kids in front of him and immediately grabbed the one who had hit Grimm by the collar, lifting them into the air.

"Are you out of your damn mind?!"

"…!" Just as he finished yelling, he froze. The kid who had punched Grimm seemed to be her—the girl he liked?

"Boss— Ow!!" he had just started to call Grimm over to confirm when the girl kicked him hard between the legs.

His grip instantly loosened as he doubled over in pain. Then, she followed up with a punch to his face, knocking him flat on the ground.

Seizing the moment, Paulus pinned Bernhardt down, and the pain left him unable to resist for the moment.

---Grimmm's POV---

By the time my tear-blurred vision cleared, I saw Bernhardt sprawled on the ground. Just as I was about to draw my massive sword to settle things properly, the small figures of the culprits became clear.

Kids? I hesitated. Killing them here in Weimar would definitely cause trouble. Beating them up should suffice.

"Hey! You brats—" Don't push your luck.

Before I could finish, one of the kids stepped into the sunlight. It was a silver-haired child, their small fist still smeared with the blood from punching me.

"Give me back my doll!" the child demanded.

"Well then… where's the money?" I wiped my nosebleed. I put on a roguish grin and looked at the little girl.

"I…" she faltered, remembering she was technically at fault here.

Seeing her hesitation, I smirked wickedly and stepped closer.

"Where's the money?"

She instinctively backed into a corner, suddenly too flustered to meet my gaze.

"Stay away from me, you jerk!" she yelled, shoving me hard. "Did you even bring the doll?"

"Take a guess," I said, fishing around in my coat.

Just as she started to doubt me, I pulled it out as if performing a magic trick—the doll. Her favorite doll was right there in my hands.

She froze, clearly wondering why I would carry that with me.

Seeing her stunned face, I grinned even wider and moved closer again.

"Well, miss, where's my money?"

I noticed Bernhardt had managed to get back up, still wincing from the kick but looking at the silver-haired beauty with that same awestruck expression I'd seen before.

An idea struck me.

"Tell you what," I said, twirling the doll in my hands. "Since you don't have money, how about a different deal? Give him here a kiss, and you can have your doll back."

Bernhardt's head snapped up, his face turning crimson. "B-Boss?!"

---Third POV---

"I..." Gerald stammered, completely out of retorts now.

A kiss for the doll?

Wait… miss? Was this some kind of joke?

Before Gerald could properly process the situation, he saw an opportunity.

The larger boy was clearly flustered, guard completely down. If he got close enough...

Grimm watched with amusement as the silver-haired child approached Bernhardt, who stood frozen like a statue. But just as Bernhardt leaned down expectantly, his face red as a tomato, Gerald surged forward.

Instead of a kiss, he intended to headbutt him and grab the doll—

But Bernhardt, in his nervous excitement, moved faster than expected. His lips caught Gerald's in an awkward, clumsy kiss, even accidentally licking his lips in his nervousness.

Gerald's brain short-circuited. What was happening? A kiss was one thing, but licking his lips?!

A surge of overwhelming embarrassment flooded his senses, quickly replaced by seething rage.

Never. No one had ever treated him like this!

This bastard!!

"AAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!"