Chapter 37
In the past, injuries were common during training, but now that everyone’s skills had improved across the board, serious injuries were rare. It also helped that I had issued strict orders to avoid fatal wounds.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The clash of weapons echoed through the nighttime mountains. The slave soldiers gasped for breath, sometimes letting out screams that were more like battle cries as they squeezed out their last bits of strength.
After more than an hour of intense sparring, the training session finally came to an end.
Fifty slave soldiers descended Mount Tobe first. Their movement doubled as an infiltration drill—designed to test whether they could slip past civilians, Delgain soldiers, or even Hebron’s own soldiers without being detected. If caught, they would be punished. It was a grueling test.
By tomorrow morning, the slave soldiers would arrive at Lord Hebron’s manor.
I remained at the mountain stronghold with ten slave soldiers. We scattered the corpses of real bandits around the site and then made contact with the Delgain forces who’d been imprisoned in a corner of the bandit camp.
“Wh–Who are you?”
Sir Sniff looked at me with a face like a beggar. The soldiers, too, had been completely stripped of their equipment.
The equipment had already been loaded onto the carriages of the Serpens Trading Company, waiting at the base of the mountain.
“I am Baron Louis de Hebron. I came to wipe out the Bebe Bandits at the request of Baron Delgain.”
“Wh–What happened to the bandits?”
“They were annihilated. Some fled, but my men are pursuing them. They’ll be captured before sunrise.”
“Y–You defeated them?”
“They were nothing more than a pitiful group of bandits.”
Sir Sniff, who had been captured by those very same pitiful bandits, flushed with shame.
I spoke to him plainly.
“Return to your lord and tell him the Bebe Bandits have been eliminated. The remaining 400 gold must be paid within the week. If even a single day passes, he will face Hebron’s wrath.”
* * *
Sir Sniff and forty-seven soldiers safely returned to Delgain’s manor. Though they looked like beggars, they had brought back the corpse of the supposed bandit leader, Bebe, carried on a stretcher.
While examining the body, Delgain’s chief strategist, Spiel, wore a grave expression. He delivered grim news to his lord.
“We were attacked by Hebron.”
“Attacked? What are you saying?”
“These corpses have been dead for at least five days. While they were treated with herbs to prevent decay, the internal tissues show advanced decomposition.”
“Then…?”
Baron Delgain counted the days. Five days ago, Sir Sniff had led the soldiers to subjugate the Bebe Bandits.
Strategist Spiel spoke with firm conviction.
“The ones who captured our men weren’t the Bebe Bandits—it was the Hebron forces.”
“H–Hebroooon! That cunning bastard! I’ll kill him myself! Assemble the army! Mobilize the standing forces! Gather our strength and crush him!”
Baron Delgain raged, but the knights didn’t respond hastily. They were waiting for Spiel to finish.
Rumor had it that the real master of House Delgain was Spiel. Baron Delgain relied heavily on this brilliant man.
Spiel was always dressed in black, fully covering his body in all seasons. Under his jacket, he wore a gray shirt with a stiff collar. Only his face and hands were ever visible.
“Calm yourself, my lord. It’s unfortunate, but Hebron’s forces are strong. Even if it was a surprise attack, our men couldn’t even resist. They’ve also absorbed the forces of Baron Nurha, which puts us at a disadvantage in manpower.”
“So we’re just supposed to hand over 400 gold to those thieving scoundrels?!”
The final payment was due within five days. If Spiel’s theory was right, then not only had House Delgain been humiliated, but they were now being extorted.
To make matters worse, a rumor was spreading among the commoners ‘The Delgain forces were captured by the Bebe Bandits, and Hebron rescued them’.
They hadn’t yet discovered the source of that rumor—Serpens Trading Company.
“I’m only saying that Delgain alone won’t be enough.”
Baron Delgain took a deep breath. He had seen the subtle look in Spiel’s eyes that always preceded a plan.
“Explain.”
“Ask Baron Biskin for assistance. If Hebron attacked Delgain, Biskin would logically be next. They must feel the threat too. If you promise them 2,000 gold, they’ll likely pretend to resist at first, then agree to help us.”
“Oh! That’s my Spiel! Brilliant! But where are we supposed to get 2,000 gold?”
2,000 gold was a fortune for any barony.
House Delgain had already spent 400 gold to retrieve the baron’s sister and nephew from Hebron. The treasury was nearly empty. To raise that much, they’d have to sell off jewels or land.
“We’ll take it from Hebron’s warehouse. And if needed, we’ll claim part of their territory.”
“Excellent! Simply excellent!”
“We must buy time. Tell Baron Hebron that the 400 gold will be paid soon, and ask for a short extension. Offer to pay interest, anything to lull them into complacency.”
“Leave that to me. You handle your part.”
“Yes, my lord.”
As Spiel turned to leave, he gave the baron a meaningful glance.
Baron Delgain gestured to the knights, who left the chamber.
Once they were alone, Spiel stepped closer and whispered.
“This matter must be carried out under the name of Rustic de Nurha.”
"That boy is my nephew. I'm planning to adopt Rustic as my son and send him to the Royal Academy. Are you telling me to betray my own blood? If he disappears, who will carry on my lineage?"
Baron Delgain had no heirs.
He was incapable of having children and had confirmed his infertility with multiple women.
"This is merely a precaution. Isn’t House Delgain more important than a nephew?"
After a moment of hesitation, Baron Delgain nodded.
He always believed that Spiel’s words were right.
“I’ll do as you say.”
* * *
Hebron poured their efforts into expanding their intelligence network.
Even though the barony’s income had increased significantly, it still suffered from a lack of funds—because of the cost of acquiring information.
To that end, merchants of the Serpens Trading Company were dispatched in all directions, and Hebron’s money was funneled into informants hired by the company.
Thanks to this, Hebron could clearly see the movements of the armies of both Biskin and Delgain.
The Serpens Trading Company was one of the largest in the region. Its branches increased from four to six, and the number of carriages grew from fifteen to twenty-five. The guard force was also doubled—and despite the increased upkeep, profits surpassed previous levels, thanks to the trade route between Hebron and Zylson.
Delgain and Biskin ordered war supplies from Serpens Trading company—arms, tents, and field rations. Having received advance notice from me, the Serpens’ guildmaster promptly sold off his prepared goods.
Other trading companies also scrambled to sell their supplies, but the two baronies had signed an exclusive contract with Serpens Trading Company.
As a result, the alliance between Biskin and Delgain was quickly solidified, and the Serpens’ guildmaster sat comfortably on a pile of money. Thirty percent of the net profit was mine.
“Biskin and Delgain have made their move.”
“What’s your decision?”
“I think the same as you, my lord.”
I couldn’t help but smile at Amy’s reply.
“Let’s go to Biskin.”
“Yes, tonight.”
* * *
Soldier deployment had already been completed.
Of 112 regular soldiers, 60 were mobilized and stationed at the northern edge of Nurha. They were led by Sir Brown.
One hundred slave-soldiers were armed with shields, swords, and light leather armor, and commanded by the young knight Solon.
I had taught Solon and Adol—both knights of Nurha—the Wolf Swordsmanship and the Zero-Style Aura Cultivation method.
I modified the techniques to suit each of them, and they discarded their former swordsmanship entirely to focus on mastering the new style.
I also departed from Hebron Manor and arrived at the northern border of Nurha.
Clack!
The knights and soldiers saluted me in silence, omitting any formal chants. A gag order had already been issued.
Solon, who led the slave-soldiers, returned and reported.
“We killed the envoy and three guards. Biskin remains quiet.”
He handed me a scroll sealed with Biskin’s crest. Tearing it open and unrolling it, I found the words I expected.
—Biskin declares war on Hebron.
Every time Syang let out a soft baaaaaa, the place felt less like a battlefield and more like a quiet farmhouse.
The air was heavy, but it didn’t carry the scent of death.
Baaaaaaaa.
“Shh.”
Syang understood me well. The creature was covered with a rag woven from straw, and I sat atop it.
Flap!
Bimae pierced through the darkness and landed on my shoulder. I took the note tied to its leg and read it.
—Secured. P.S. Rustic de Nurha.
I grinned.
Tradition demanded that I throw my head back and smile at the sky.
In a noble’s civil war, a formal declaration of war was required. Even for the sake of appearances, one was expected to give at least a full day of preparation after the declaration.
Amy had stationed soldiers at Nurha’s border, captured the envoy, and seized the declaration scroll.
Both sides had sent their declarations at the same time. That meant, following noble custom, a simultaneous invasion would occur 24 hours later.
Though Biskin’s soldiers were forward-deployed, they were preparing to fight tomorrow, not today. Their soldiers were feasting on meat and wine provided by the baron, awaiting the bloodshed like a festival.
Now that the declaration was in my hands, I was free to deploy my soldiers. These were customs, not the inviolable laws of the Xenon Kingdom.
Even if I brought this matter to the royal legal scholar, Marquis Theodore de Stojan, I was confident I would win any legal dispute.
Sir Brown approached to report.
“We eliminated seven soldiers. All were regulars. Biskin remains quiet.”
“How many soldiers does Biskin have left?”
“Thirty-one regulars, Knight Loka, and one hundred reservists.”
“Any reason we should lose?”
“None.”
Even the justification was on our side now.
To become a high noble, one had to rid themselves of shady rumors. Cleaning up those rumors cost money—but Hebron, having lived quietly in the frontier, had a clean past and present.
“Then go and return victorious.”
Clack!
Sir Brown saluted. He led the soldiers toward Biskin, with Knight Solon supporting him.
One hundred and sixty soldiers rode north. Compared to House Brieo, which had over two hundred senior knights, it was a humble force—but such was the reality of baronial warfare.
A small advantage in manpower was enough to shift the ownership of land.
“Let’s go too. We should at least open the gate for our people.”
Baaaaaa!
Biskin’s outer walls were built solidly to repel invaders. They stood about four meters high—too tall to leap over—and soldiers armed with bows were stationed on top.
Doo doo doo doo doo doo!
Each time Syang charged forward, the ground trembled. Its hardened hooves pounded the earth violently.
A soldier atop the wall drew his bow and shouted.
“Stop! This is Biskin’s wall! If you don’t stop, we’ll fire!”
Baaaaaaa!
“A sheep?”
Syang charged forward alone. It was part of its training to overcome fear.
Though there were a few live soldiers, Syang charged straight at the lifeless wooden wall without hesitation.
BOOOOM!
With an explosion-like sound, Syang came to a stop in front of the gate.
