บท 43: Chapter 43: Can’t You Bow Your Head?
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The sound of hooves roared like thunder as Rod watched the scenery around him blur by.
He couldn't hide the astonishment in his eyes.
This speed must be over 100 kilometers per hour, right?
Was this really the speed a horse could achieve?
If he remembered correctly, the fastest recorded speed of a horse in the world was around 70 kilometers per hour.
And now, his Dark Night warhorse, fully armored and carrying a rider, was hitting speeds over 100 kilometers per hour.
It felt like the horse was ready to take flight.
He had been riding for over ten minutes at full speed, and there hadn't been even a hint of slowing down.
Rod looked at his warhorse with surprise.
A normal warhorse would have been exhausted after running this fast for so long. Even if it could hold up, fatigue would start to set in.
But this horse seemed to have no concept of fatigue.
Such powerful endurance and explosive strength.
If this horse didn't have some kind of special bloodline, it would be a mystery.
Even the famous Red Hare horse couldn't compare to this.
"There's a town up ahead. Let's go take a look."
Rod gently tugged on the reins, and the warhorse immediately began to slow down.
Ten minutes later, a reasonably large village came into view.
Rod leisurely rode into the town.
As he passed, the peasants all looked at him with awe and reverence.
Dressed like that, if he wasn't a knight, then he was definitely a noble—someone the common folk wouldn't dare offend.
"Go to the inn quickly! A big shot just arrived there!"
"He's spending money like it's nothing!"
"Is that true?"
"Of course it is! I saw him pull out a whole bag of gold coins, paying for everything with gold!"
Rod, who had been about to find a place to rest, overheard the conversation between the peasants and felt a flicker of curiosity.
A whole bag of gold coins?
Paying for things with gold coins?
In a small place like this, who would have that kind of wealth?
Even in the modern world, gold was a rare and precious metal, extremely valuable.
In this world, gold was worth even more.
An ordinary serf, after working hard for an entire year, would only earn a few gold pounds.
And that's pounds, not coins.
A standard gold pound contained a small amount of gold to raise its value.
A single gold coin, however, was worth at least ten to twenty gold pounds.
Enough to buy several ordinary horses or two cows.
Paying for things with gold coins?
Not even nobles would be that extravagant.
Following the crowd, Rod arrived at an inn.
From his vantage point atop his horse, he peered through the crowd and into the inn.
A wooden table was surrounded by a throng of people.
Next to the table sat a young man, drunk, carelessly tossing gold coins around.
"I've got plenty of gold coins! Bring out the best you've got!"
Rod frowned slightly.
The young man was dressed like an ordinary commoner, with none of the manners or elegance of a noble.
For someone like him to casually throw around gold coins—any fool could see something was off.
Thud, thud, thud!
With a quick tug of the reins, Rod guided his warhorse forward.
"Get out of the way, you fool, or do you have a death wish!"
The peasants outside the inn, upon seeing the approaching warhorse and the imposing figure atop it, quickly scattered in panic.
They all kneeled and bowed their heads.
In this era of strict social hierarchy, when commoners encountered a noble, or even just a knight, they had to show respect.
If they offended a knight or noble due to improper manners, punishment was inevitable.
With his knightly aura, the crowd quickly parted, forming a path.
Rod calmly rode his horse forward until he was directly behind the young man.
"What's wrong? Why did the music and dancing stop?"
The drunken youth's eyes flickered with annoyance as he noticed the sudden halt in festivities.
He looked up and saw the innkeeper and the dancers bowing toward someone behind him.
Bowing?
The alcohol-induced fog in his mind began to clear.
As a commoner, there was no way anyone would bow to him, no matter how much money he had.
"There's someone behind me, isn't there?"
The youth, whose name was Eric, forced a nervous smile and slowly turned around.
A massive shadow loomed over him. He met the fierce, black eyes of the warhorse staring down at him.
On the tall, armored horse sat a young man with an imposing presence, looking at him with amused interest.
"What's your name?"
Rod leaned forward slightly, his gaze bearing down on Eric with an intimidating pressure.
"Eric!"
Eric swallowed nervously, fear in his eyes.
"Is your head stuck up, Eric?"
Rod smiled slightly.
Though he wasn't a real knight, who would know?
"My apologies for my rudeness, Sir Knight!"
Eric, now fully sober, quickly bowed in fear.
Rod narrowed his eyes as he looked at the trembling youth.
Clearly, this was just an ordinary commoner.
But where had this commoner gotten so many gold coins?
"Sir Knight, may I leave now?"
Now completely sober, Eric's face showed signs of anxiety as he thought about how he had flaunted his wealth just moments before.
He regretted drawing so much attention.
So many gold coins—any noble would be tempted.
If this knight decided to take his gold, what chance would he have to resist?
The thought alone filled him with despair.
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