Chapter 27
Orst, Special Military Officer
After returning to White Eagle Citadel, Kaspar enjoyed some leisure for the first time in a long while.
That did not mean he indulged in alcohol, gambling, and women like the other mercenaries.
It was midday at the inn, when people came in for their meals.
Customers occupied their own tables, chatting among themselves.
Blending into the inn’s background alongside them, Kaspar sat alone at a table and drank cold milk.
He had spent his time like this ever since returning from Huntingville.
It was not because he lacked money.
His purse contained the fifteen silver coins he had received for the commission.
An ordinary man’s monthly living expenses amounted to two silver coins.
Even half of what Kaspar possessed would have been enough to enjoy every luxury the inn had to offer.
Kaspar simply felt no reason to do so yet.
‘They were divided between spring and winter, opposing and feuding with one another.’
It was no different from the imperial lords waging civil wars against each other.
‘Then, as time passed, they all disappeared, leaving only administrators such as the Familiars behind.’
It matched the way a territory would be governed by its next most influential figures after its lord disappeared.
Shrine guardians were comparable to the senior priests of the Radiance Church stationed within a territory, while territorial overseers were akin to chief butlers or stewards.
Perfectly satisfied with some delicious bread, Kaspar sipped his milk and organized the information he had received from Mark’s Merchant Company.
A hypothetical map of the factions appeared before his mind’s eye.
‘First are the powerful Masters of the Forest who once roamed the Eternal Forest.’
If the forest were compared to the Empire, these beings would be equivalent to lords governing their respective territories.
Thinking of it this way made everything easier to understand.
Their previously vague hierarchy became clearly defined when translated into the Empire’s system.
Kaspar felt refreshed.
Immersed in the satisfaction of his accomplishment, he took another sip of cool milk.
Normally, he would soon return to his room, play around with magic, and bring his day to an end.
Today, however, a different engagement awaited him.
“Hey, Kaspar!”
The loud, resonant voice from the entrance abruptly silenced the conversations around the room. Everyone turned to look at the new arrival.
The man strode forward as though he could not care less about their attention.
Thud.
He sat across from Kaspar.
“Whew. Have you been well, Kaspar?”
It was Allen.
“How are your injuries?”
At Kaspar’s question, Allen silently pulled his clothes aside, revealing unblemished skin.
“Those physicians usually treat nobles, so they’re pretty skilled. Beer over here!”
“...Are you sure you should be drinking?”
Kaspar cautiously questioned Allen as he called for a server.
He had only just recovered. Suddenly guzzling alcohol seemed dangerous.
“Yeah, I’m completely fine. Why is everyone making such a fuss?”
Allen swiftly downed the beer brought by the server.
“Ahh... A mercenary needs at least one pleasure in life.”
Once the alcohol entered his system, Allen’s expression relaxed considerably.
Apparently, he really was fine.
After taking another drink, Allen spoke with a blissful expression.
“I’m on my way back from meeting the higher-ups.”
“Yes, I heard about it from Lady Ellasen. The nobles requested a meeting with you.”
“Yeah. It was nothing but a tedious meeting, though I did manage to obtain a few pieces of information.”
“Information?”
Kaspar cautiously waited for him to continue.
“Right, information. I’ll give you the conclusion first. White Eagle Citadel will be going on the defensive for the time being.”
“...I see.”
Kaspar nodded.
“It might not be shocking news, but aren’t you taking it a little too calmly?”
“I expected it to some extent.”
“You expected it?”
“Yes. The citadel lost mercenaries on two separate occasions, and not only the Black Druids and Beast Walkers but even a Familiar appeared. Since we don’t know the enemy’s strength, defending the gateway and observing how the situation develops is more reasonable than blindly sending more mercenaries into the forest.”
Kaspar toyed with the handle of his cup.
“That’s why I’m not particularly surprised. It’s the obvious decision. Was I mistaken?”
“...No.”
Allen quickly wiped the blank expression from his face.
‘What exactly is this kid?’
When it came to interpersonal relationships or conversations, Kaspar often seemed so oblivious that Allen had wondered what was wrong with him.
More precisely, Kaspar had a hopeless lack of awareness and intuition regarding sociability and forming friendships.
That was Allen’s conclusion.
Just when he began thinking of Kaspar as someone who needed looking after, however, an incongruous side of the boy would occasionally emerge.
It was his judgment in matters unrelated to sociability.
At times, Kaspar displayed insight in those areas that was not only perfectly normal but superior to that of most people. It was enough to make Allen wonder whether this was truly the Kaspar he knew.
This situation was no different.
Kaspar’s reasoning matched the explanation the lord of the citadel had given Allen with astonishing accuracy.
Allen absently rubbed the goosebumps on his forearm.
“...That’s why they requested additional support from Wintersteel. A lord would normally hesitate to make repeated requests like that because it damages his prestige, but once a Familiar appeared, I guess they couldn’t afford to worry about appearances anymore. Oh, one plate of sausages over here.”
Allen ordered food from the server before turning back to Kaspar.
“Accounting for the journey to the city, the time needed to gather personnel there, and their return trip, it should take around five days.”
“What happens once the reinforcements arrive?”
“The higher-ups will decide what to do then. Until that happens, we just have to wait here.”
In other words, they had gained another five days to idle around.
Most mercenaries would have welcomed the news, but Kaspar felt strangely uneasy.
‘So many mercenaries have gone missing. Is it truly all right for everything to be this peaceful?’
He could understand the residents. The information reaching them was limited.
What he could not understand was why the citadel’s nobles seemed to share the same attitude.
There had been some unrest at first, but that was all.
It created a strange sense of incongruity.
Kaspar soon set the matter aside and bowed his head.
“Thank you for bringing me the news.”
“Don’t mention it. It’s a commander’s responsibility.”
“But is that all?”
“Hm? What do you mean?”
“It seems strange that the nobles would summon you merely to tell you that.”
The citadel entering a defensive posture was hardly an extraordinary secret. They could have simply sent someone to notify him.
The fact that they had personally summoned Allen seemed odd.
It was equally unusual for Allen to come and deliver the information directly to Kaspar. He might call it a commander’s duty, but this too could have been handled by a messenger.
“There’s something you still haven’t told me, isn’t there?”
Allen smirked.
“You’re perceptive.”
“Thank you.”
“I suppose surprising you will be difficult.”
“Surprising me?”
At that moment, Kaspar sensed someone behind him.
“So this is the mage from your mercenary band.”
An unfamiliar voice reached his ears.
Kaspar turned around and saw a tall, slender man.
His dark chestnut hair was neatly swept back, and youthful vigor radiated from his striking features.
His deep-blue tunic and light-gray trousers were obviously made of expensive material.
A man who was clearly of high social standing stood behind Kaspar.
Allen nodded respectfully and pulled out a chair for him.
“That’s right. He’s the greatest fighting force in our mercenary band.”
The man gave Kaspar a slight nod before sitting in the chair Allen had prepared.
“Your greatest fighting force... Commander Allen, you are quite modest.”
“I was only being honest. Kaspar, this gentleman is—”
The man waved a hand, indicating that it was unnecessary.
“I will introduce myself. Kaspar, it is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Orst—Orst of House Winderma. At present, by the grace of Lord Luthern, master of White Eagle Citadel, I serve as the citadel’s Special Military Officer.”
His voice was as clear and resonant as his features were striking.
Kaspar returned his greeting.
“It is a pleasure to meet you. As you have already heard, my name is Kaspar—Kaspar Hauser. And as I’m sure you have also heard, I am a mage affiliated with Aezk.”
Orst ordered the same beer as Allen and studied Kaspar’s face.
“Honestly, I find it difficult to believe.”
“What do you mean?”
“You are far too young... No, perhaps ‘young’ is insufficient. ‘Child’ would be more accurate.”
“If that sounded rude, I apologize. When I heard of a mage who achieved consecutive victories against a senior Black Druid and a Familiar, I honestly expected to find a bald man in magnificent ceremonial robes with a white beard reaching his waist. Haha.”
Kaspar and Allen simultaneously made peculiar expressions.
The gulf between nobles and commoners was immense. Even in the North, where people were judged by their abilities, such attitudes persisted beneath the surface.
Orst had apologized first despite having no real reason to do so, then laughed without reservation. He was far removed from the image of a typical noble.
After heartily draining the beer the server had hurriedly brought him, Orst smiled with satisfaction.
“Ah, now I finally feel alive. A military council with those tiresome old men—horrible, absolutely horrible. Sometimes I feel like I’m growing old alongside them.”
Kaspar stared at him.
“If it would not be rude, may I ask why Lord Orst, Special Military Officer of White Eagle Citadel, has come to see me?”
Allen clicked his tongue inwardly.
There was an order even when drinking cold water. Kaspar should have waited for the noble to state his business first.
Fortunately, instead of ordering that the insolent boy be hung upside down and beaten, Orst simply looked at Kaspar while remaining slouched against his chair.
***
Five hours earlier.
The lord’s council chamber.
A luxurious round table surrounded a warm hearth.
The lord’s retainers were raising the temperature of an already sweltering room even further.
“Do you hear yourself? You want to send more mercenaries? Do you believe the mercenaries guarding this gateway grow endlessly like weeds in a field, Special Military Officer Orst?”
At the provocation from a bald man in his seventies whose scalp was mottled with age spots, Orst barely concealed his irritation.
“Do you truly think I lack even that much judgment? I am proposing that we send the rescue party we are obligated to send.”
Orst unfurled the scroll before him.
Water stains had soaked into it in several places, perhaps from rain.
A moment later, a voice emerged from within it.
[This is Black Fang... I am Wizrit, a mage affiliated with the Black Fang Mercenary Band. We are currently trapped inside the village.]
[The village’s sacred relic has created a barrier that is protecting us for now, but I do not know how long it will last.]
[Perhaps a week. We desperately need help. Please, send someone from the citadel to save me—to save us.]
The young female mage’s voice spread throughout the solemn council chamber.
Even the retainers who opposed sending aid briefly fell silent at the desperation in her voice.
After surveying them, Orst turned toward the lord of the citadel.
“Lord Luthern, we maintain a mutual contract with the mercenaries. According to that contract, when White Eagle Citadel is in danger, the mercenaries must abandon whatever they are doing and rush to its defense. Conversely, when those mercenaries are in danger, the citadel also bears an obligation to rescue them.”
“Recklessness! Every word of that is reckless!”
A balding man in his early sixties interrupted with a lengthy objection.
“To dispatch a rescue party blindly when we know neither the enemy’s identity nor its numbers—what sort of gamble is that? The rescue party may accomplish nothing and merely deliver more of our valuable forces into the enemy’s jaws!”
As though refusing to be outdone, the bald man in his seventies sprang to his feet in fury.
“Foolish! Utterly foolish! Do you think the Nature Magic Tower cooperates with us purely out of goodwill? Surely you understand that its cooperation is given in exchange for the inexhaustible resources produced by the Eternal Forest and the Great Forest, young Special Military Officer Orst!”
Just as Orst was about to retort indignantly, Lord Luthern raised a hand.
It meant that they had said enough.
The room instantly fell silent.
Lord Luthern looked at Orst for a moment before nodding, signaling him to continue.
“Furthermore, if this is Mage Wizrit, then she is undoubtedly affiliated with the Nature Magic Tower. That tower has long offered White Eagle Citadel its cooperation in numerous areas. If we reject this request for rescue, White Eagle Citadel will lose greatly—both in terms of honoring the justification provided by our contract and preserving our practical relationship with the Nature Magic Tower.”
The highest-ranking person in the room decided that it was time to reach a conclusion.
“I have heard both sides. Continuing this meeting will only breed resentment between you. Let us end this stagnant discussion, and I will give you my decision.”
Lord Luthern continued.
“Orst.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Your argument is entirely reasonable. Both to uphold the terms of our contract and to maintain our future relationship with the Nature Magic Tower, rescuing the Black Fang Mercenary Band is indispensable.”
“Precisely, my lord!”
Orst nodded vigorously.
This time, Lord Luthern turned toward the elderly nobles, whose complexions had darkened somewhat.
“Anten. Guyward.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Your arguments are equally reasonable. Our supply of mercenaries is not limitless. Sending them blindly into a place where we know neither the enemy’s identity nor its strength could indeed be a reckless decision.”
“Exactly.”
“Your words are most wise, my lord.”
“Therefore...”
Lord Luthern rose from his seat.
The retainers on both sides focused their attention upon him.
“I shall reconcile both positions.”
***
“A scouting party and a rescue party combined?”
Kaspar repeated the words in bewilderment.
Orst, sitting as casually as a commoner, clinked his beer mug against Allen’s and nodded.
“It means the decision will be left to the field commander. First, you determine the enemy’s strength. If a rescue seems feasible, you proceed. If not, then nothing can be done.”
Orst continued.
“Ordinarily, Lord Luthern would probably have preferred to follow Anten and Guyward’s advice. But Herbville pays a considerable amount of tax to the citadel. The fact that a sacred relic unavailable to other villages was installed there to maintain a defensive barrier makes Herbville’s importance to the citadel obvious.”
“I understand.”
“To be honest, my assessment is that this decision is closer to a formality intended for the Nature Magic Tower. It would be excellent if we rescued them, but even if we failed, White Eagle Citadel could claim it had done everything within its power.”
Orst’s expression grew slightly gloomy.
“In any case, Lord Luthern granted me full authority over this matter. When I considered whom I should consult, I thought of Aezk. After all, you know more about the forest’s recent conditions than anyone else.”
Instead of answering, Kaspar finished the rest of his milk.
“I understand what those old men are thinking. I even understand their reasoning. But I cannot accept it.”
Allen shrugged, signaling his complete agreement with the young noble.
“Well, those old gentlemen will be dead soon. Why would they need to consider the distant future? That’s something for people with bright futures ahead of them—people like us—to worry about.”
Kaspar contemplated Orst’s proposal.
This was, in essence, a commission.
Aezk was being asked to travel to Herbville, assess the situation, and rescue the Black Fang Mercenary Band if possible.
“If you accept, I will pay thirty silver coins for reconnaissance alone. If you rescue Wizrit, the payment will increase to sixty silver coins.”
Allen’s eyebrow twitched upon hearing the amount.
Thirty silver coins merely to scout the enemy—three times the reward for the Jerpet commission and nearly twice that of the Eternal Forest expedition.
This was an opportunity.
An unmistakable opportunity.
It would allow them to earn the favor of a young noble while filling their pockets handsomely.
It was an opportunity Allen had no desire to lose.
Kaspar, however, saw things differently.
“I’m not sure why you’re telling me this. I am merely the band’s mage. It seems like something the commander and the Special Military Officer should decide between themselves.”
“I thought the same, but Commander Allen told me that Aezk operates on the principle of unanimous agreement before making important decisions. He added that we absolutely had to hear your opinion.”
Kaspar looked at Allen.
The sparkle in Allen’s eyes told him plenty.
‘It seems he has already reached an agreement with everyone else.’
When had he even done that?
Regardless, Kaspar decided to give his opinion.
“I believe we should rest for a while longer.”
They had survived their confrontation with the Familiar, but its aftereffects were still deeply engraved upon them.
People were not clay dolls.
They could not simply leap to their feet the moment their wounds were stitched shut and shout, “Oh, I’m better now! Let’s go!”
“You don’t need to worry too much about that,” Orst said.
“You wouldn’t depart until five days from now. We need to wait for personnel to arrive from the city. What do you think? I believe that should be enough time to put your mind at ease.”
“That’s right, Kaspar,” Allen chimed in from beside him.
“Commander.”
“What is it, Kaspar?”
“....”
Kaspar sighed softly.
Allen had clearly made up his mind.
‘Five days is better than nothing, but...’
Would everyone truly recover within that time?
Kaspar doubted it.
“Special Military Officer, I apologize, but—”
“Kaspar, are you interested in spellbooks?”
Orst interrupted him.
Kaspar flinched.
A spellbook?
‘It is a spellbook that serves me no purpose anyway.’
Considering the influence Orst would gain if the mission succeeded, along with the favorable relationship he would establish with the Nature Magic Tower, he could readily hand over a mere spellbook.
Noticing how violently Kaspar’s resolve was wavering, Orst lowered his voice persuasively.
“If you successfully complete this commission, I intend to give you that spellbook as an additional reward. Think it over carefully, and then give me your answer—”
“I’ll do it.”
“There is a spellbook in the library my grandfather left behind. From what I heard, he once rescued a village maiden from bandits and received it from her father as a reward. But no one in our family possesses a magical bloodline.”
The young noble had presented his bargaining chip specifically for the young mage.
‘Wasn’t that answer far too fast?’
Orst was briefly taken aback, but as expected of a noble appointed Special Military Officer at such a young age, he quickly composed himself.
“Ahem. I’m glad our discussion reached an agreeable conclusion. Allen, Kaspar—if you need anything while making preparations, or if you have any other requests, tell me at any time. I will provide every possible form of assistance within my authority as Special Military Officer.”
Seeing the silent excitement trembling in Kaspar’s eyes, Orst was certain his bargaining chip had worked.
Relieved, he ordered another beer.
“What a pleasant evening. Come now, let us all drink to our hearts’ content.”
“Yes. We depart tomorrow, correct, Special Military Officer?”
“...Five days from now, Kaspar.”