He drank his wine in one go and, just like the others, seemed confused at the taste, glancing around in puzzlement.
“No wonder he was top of the exam! He sure can drink!” someone exclaimed, clapping mockingly.
“But don’t let it get to your head, kid!” another said. “You think you can push your way through the ranks just like that, huh? Maybe in a hundred years! Down another bottle! We believe in tough love here, ha ha ha!”
“Huh? No way...” Ves was, understandably, about to protest, but Gahariet didn’t let him.
“Stop mumbling to yourself and drink! You still haven’t had enough, have you?”
The knights all began ganging up on the poor rookie, cheering for him to chug another bottle. Ves, on the other hand, seemed to be having a terrible time.
So this is why Thibault told us to aim for a barely above-average score at the entrance exam... I understand now.
Ves reluctantly finished another bottle of juice, but Gahariet insisted he drink more. And so, he cleaned off a third bottle, a grim look on his face.
The poor thing. In the end, his “reward” for scoring first at the entrance exam was to be forced to drink three bottles of grape juice.
“Women, you’re next,” Gahariet said, turning to us.
Vulgar hoots and whistling erupted from the crowd, and I saw the faces of Ahn and the others contort in a mix of disgust and nervousness.
Well, we don’t really have a choice here.
I decided to go first. “I’m Lam. My parents are farmers.”
It wasn’t technically a lie. When I was Aurora, my parents had really been apple farmers.
“Ooh, how refreshing and pure! I like her!”
“Come sit on my lap, darling. Oh, wait, is that sexual harassment? Bwa ha ha!”
“Yoo-hoo, Lam! I might be a bit old for you, but wanna go on a date with me later? Just kidding!”
The older male knights were getting overly worked up. They were all wasted already.
“Here, Lam! How old do I look?” one asked me.
“Um...?” I didn’t know why he was asking me to guess his age, but I gave it my best shot. “Fifty?”
“Hey, I’m only forty-five! Read the room a little, will you?! You’re supposed to say that I don’t look a day over thirty, even if it’s not true! Women are expected to flatter men, y’know? Jeez, rookies these days are no good, lemme tell you!”
And now his mood had soured, for some reason... I really didn’t understand what was expected of me here.
I answered his question and got yelled at... What did he hope to achieve in the first place, asking me how old he looks?
Would he truly have appreciated being told he looked thirty, even if it was a lie? I sat back down, unconvinced. I couldn’t tell if it was the social norms of this era that eluded me, if I simply didn’t understand how things worked in Hanche, or if it was this chivalric order that was strange.
The female knights poured drinks for the men and served them snacks while the remaining recruits introduced themselves. Now that I was actually paying attention to them, I noticed that the women hadn’t eaten or drunk a thing.
Following my example, Ahn and the other two resolved to do their own self-introductions. No male knight asked them how old he looked, and the relief was clear on their faces as they settled back down.
Once everyone had taken their turn, Gahariet stood up and declared, “All right, lads, let’s drink these rookies under the table! Time for another round of chugging! This time, you have to deliver a one-liner when you finish and come up for breath!”
He wanted us to drink even more? And, this time, we were supposed to come up with a joke too? How unreasonable could this man be?
“If any of you can’t drink, the others will take collective responsibility by doing another round of chugging!” he added.
Gahariet seemed to really like making people drink. It appeared to be the only thing on his mind.
And now he was talking about “collective responsibility.”
I hate that phrase.
At first glance, it might give the illusion of team spirit, which could boost everyone’s morale, but in reality, it was nothing more than a cowardly diversion tactic. By shifting the blame onto the weakest or least capable member of the group, you could avoid being the subject of their ire yourself.
Anyway, per Gahariet’s whim, we were forced to go through yet another round of chugging.
It’s only juice, so none of the rookies will get drunk from this, but I’m starting to feel bloated with all this liquid sloshing around in my stomach.
The senior knights, on the other hand, had been downing glass after glass while watching our suffering and were now completely plastered. They had forgone all pretense of decorum and were being incredibly loud, wandering from table to table and pestering the female knights. In fact, they were so out of it that they had forgotten we were supposed to come up with one-liners after each drink. Some had even started singing.
The knight captain was being just as annoying. “Y’know, things were even tougher when I joined the Royal Knights! You’re all too soft! Hey, are you listening to me?”
The squad leader and her posse were showering him with insincere praises, fake smiles pinned to their faces—a stark contrast to how they’d treated me when they ordered me to clean the barracks. On the sly, they also urged us to flatter him as well.
I don’t get it. Why are they fine with being treated like pieces of meat?
They were prioritizing the captain’s and the other men’s favor over actually becoming skilled knights. It was mind-boggling.
I know I’m only in Hanche to investigate the Faith, but I would like to use my time as a member of the Royal Knights to create a better environment for everyone.
After all, I might very well be able to leave as soon as my business concluded, but Ahn and the others would have to stay.