Chapter 43 : Second Clash (2)

Chapter 43: Second Clash (2)

-Bwoooooo.

The horn blared.

-Boom boom boom boom boom.

The drums shook as they announced the advance, and the gate of the Free City of Loren quickly filled with mercenaries streaming out.

First to move were the companies hired by Count Bellua, led by the Black Raven Mercenary Company.

Among them, the newly formed Centurion under Shatien was placed in the foremost rank.

In practice, they were to go first and, if anything dangerous appeared, to meet it with their bodies.

But Shatien did not complain. In a march like that, putting mercenaries or fresh troops up front raised the survival odds of the force as a whole.

However, he had only one gripe.

‘They were going to bog down badly.’

The command staff had failed to anticipate that thawed ground would turn into a field of mud.

Even if they had intended to use the vanguard like a test piece, ordering men to tramp forward in that mess was absurd.

They would collapse from exhaustion on the way.

If they were unlucky enough to hit an ambush, the losses would be severe.

“Miles, how are the things I had prepared?”

“Oh, that?”

Miles scratched his head and waved to the rear. A moment later, a mercenary staggered up with a massive bundle.

-Rustle rustle!

When they shook the bundle out, a pile of oval, odd-looking footboards spilled to the ground.

Miles tilted his head at them.

“Are these not for walking on snow? Will this really help? Really?”

“Kkik! Kik?”

“They will help. Get them on, quickly.”

“Hmm. Orders are orders, so I will try it, but...”

Still doubtful, Miles carefully fit a pair to his boots.To his surprise, the feet with boards did not sink down into the muck.

“Oh?!”

“Kkik?”

Miles and the monkey, Hudson, cried out together. Seeing this, the other troopers rushed over, clamoring for their own pair.

‘Hm, you really have to experience yourself to know.’

Shatien nodded with a satisfied smile.

A hundred explanations were not worth a single thing felt in the body.

Just then, a sharp voice rang out behind him.

“What are you doing, Shatien!”

He turned his head and spotted that familiar, sour face.

“Ah, Centurion Jenga.”

“Never mind Jenga this and that. Why are you not stepping off? And what are those ridiculous boards! Every other company is already on the road!”

After a few run-ins the other day, Centurion Jenga had been dying to take a bite out of Shatien.

“If the timetable slips because of you, can you take responsibility? You know speed is what matters most this time! Step off now! This is what happens when you make a greenhorn a Centurion! Tch.”

The words were flatly insulting, the sort meant only to crush. Miles’ face was reddening as he quivered on the edge of exploding. But Shatien was not.

“My apologies, Centurion Jenga.”

“Er, hm?”

“But the road ahead is all mud, and we could not proceed. I put together a stopgap to manage the situation. Please give me a moment. We will move on schedule.”

He had grown more composed.

The calm reply left Jenga nonplussed. He had planned to seize on any show of irritation and flog it. That was not what he expected.

“A-Ahem. If you say so, then… fine. In any case, be careful. Understood?”

“Yes, Centurion Jenga. Ah! And you will likely want these.”

“What is this trash?”

Calling something carefully prepared trash made Miles bristle again. But again, Shatien stayed even.

“You will need them. With these, you can walk a mud road as if it were flat ground. We have plenty made up. Why not present them yourself to Captain Mordo.”

“Hmmm? Me? Ahem. Is that all right with you?”

“Of course. We all want this to go well, do we not?”

“H-Heheh. Very well then.”

Jenga broke into a mean little laugh. At last this whelp seemed to have learned some manners.

“Continue doing a good job then. I am going back now.”

He had his men bundle up the boards and carry them off. Watching his back, Miles burst out.

“Hey! Rookie! Did you swallow something wrong? What was that about all of a sudden?”

“Kkik! Kik! Keek!”

Even the monkey Hudson chattered beside him.

Their confusion was understandable, but explaining it all would only waste breath.

Then, a thought struck Shatien.

“Miles.”

“Yeah, what is it!”

“Does a lion startle or grow angry at the squeal of a mouse?”

“...What?”

Miles blinked, wondering if he had misheard. He even dug at his ear, then decided he had heard right.

“Think about it. What do I gain by squabbling with Centurion Jenga? He is not my competition, Miles.”

Shatien was looking higher, much higher. Beyond knighthood to the nobility, and not merely any noble, but one with a fief.

With that in mind, a quarrel with Jenga was a petty drain on emotion.

Better to soothe him, hand over a carrot, and steer him as needed.

“H-Hahahahaha! You lunatic. You really are the best, Rookie. No, Centurion. I will follow you for life-!”

“Kkik kik kik!”

Understanding the meaning, Miles and the monkey couldn’t help but laugh out heartedly.

* * *

Small trouble aside, the march proceeded without delay.

The initial fumbling at the start lasted only a short while.

Led by Shatien’s Centuria, the Black Raven Mercenary Company surged along the muddy road with the help of the footboards.

Though they had set out later than most, they were now the first company to reach the Black Forest.

According to the couriers, they were two or three days ahead. The difference in speed was staggering.

“It has been a long time since I came here...”

“Hmm? You have been here, Rookie Centurion? It is a long way from where you live isn’t it.”

“Ah-! No. That slipped out. I heard it from the locals, Miles.”

“I thought so. Heh. Our Centurion must be tired these days. Huh?”

Shatien gave a wry smile.

“By the way, tighten up the men behind us. This forest is dangerous.”

“I am already on them. I nagged so much their ears must be scabbed over. Ehehe.”

The vast greenwood called the Black Forest belonged directly to the Emperor, but in practice it was abandoned. It teemed with monsters far too dangerous for a managed hunting ground.

If they had drifted along carelessly, they would have suffered ridiculous noncombat losses.

“From here on, this is imperial land! You do not know what will jump out of the trees, so keep your wits!”

“Understood.”

Shatien scanned the forest. A landscape he felt he had seen somewhere unfolded before him.

‘This forest really didn’t change one bit. Whether now or in the past.’

The trees were thick and close, making a dense web of green. Here and there lay the marks of lumbering.

“There are villages even out here?”

“Slash-and-burn farmers, probably.”

“Then looting them will not net much, right? Our purses are tight already.”

“...!”

Shatien was suddenly alert. Puzzle pieces clicked into place, and fragments of memory he had set aside surfaced.

‘Now that I think about it… There was a village named Pegandul near there.’

Pegandul was a slash-and-burn settlement founded in the Black Forest by runaway serfs. For a place like that, it was sizable, over five hundred souls, and every house was stocked with meat slaughtered against the winter.

In the past, the Black Raven Mercenary Company had looted it under the pretext of local procurement. Plunder happened in war, and calling it an absolute evil was naive.

But if the losses outweighed the gains, it was a problem.

‘That raid had been the worst of them.’

The memory returned sharp as new. The people of Pegandul were tough. In such a harsh country, those who could not fight did not survive.

They were bound tight to one another too. No matter how hard you hit them, their morale did not break, and they resisted to the end. Worse, many were axemen by trade, and in that fight most of their wounded had ended up dying of their injuries.

‘How many had died that day?’

He recalled at least thirty. Not fighting the Holy Emperor’s army, but to subdue a single village. They had chased petty profit and died like dogs.

Shatien could not let such a thing happen again.

“Miles, a little farther on we will come to a village called Pegandul.”

“Hmm? Yeah? I knew I saw signs of people. Perfect. We can have ourselves a proper loot.”

He was raring to go, but Shatien answered firmly.

“No. We do not loot them.”

“Why not?”

“We must minimize needless fights. Our enemy is the Emperor, not common serfs.”

Miles shrugged at his words.

“What is there to overthink? If they live under the Emperor’s rule, they are the Emperor’s men.”

Shatien felt dismay for an instant. If Miles thought that way, most of the mercenaries would think the same, up and down the ranks.

‘That would not do.’

He headed for the nearest adjacent unit. As luck would have it, it was Jenga’s.

“What is it, Shatien?”

Jenga grumbled, but he was curious. Annoying as he was, he could sometimes be useful.

“Centurion Jenga, a little ahead, is a village called Pegandul.”

“And?”

“I want Captain Mordo to prohibit looting there. Please help me make the case.”

“...?”

Jenga blinked.

The boy must have been out of his mind, he thought, and a kind word popped out before he could stop it.

“Listen, Rookie Centurion. This is war. And you are suggesting against looting an enemy village in war? That is a right we have. A right!”

Pay was always meager for mercenaries, and it often came late. Looting villages was a business that made up the shortfall. It was common sense, but Shatien nodded and spoke.

“I understand. But we should avoid losing strength in unnecessary fights, right?”

“Hah! So you really think we are going to get beaten to death by slash-and-burn peasants? Have command duties fried your brains? You used to charge forward without a thought.”

“As I understand it, Pegandul is ringed by a palisade. It is not a stone wall, but a palisade will cost us dearly to breach.”

“H-Hmm. Is that so?”

Jenga frowned after hearing him. If the village had a palisade, that changed things. Putting up a palisade took a lot of lumber, which meant many lumberjacks lived there. In a region as rough as that, lumberers were formidable fighters and soldiers.

“Even so, if we ban looting, morale will drop. Captain Mordo’s face will suffer.”

For some reason, greedy Jenga was thinking of Mordo’s reputation. How touching of a sight it was.

But Shatien had already anticipated that line of pushback.

“That is exactly why I am bringing this up.”

“Huh?”

“Think about it. Count Bellua promised to reward the one who arrives first and makes the greatest contribution, right?”

‘To the first to arrive will receive the richest reward.’

The count had craftily stoked competition among the vanguard. There was a reason each company was willing to eat losses without complaint to move ahead early.

“If we loot villages on the way, what happens? Word spreads, and people band together tighter and resist us no matter what.”

“Hmmm...”

“If, on the other hand, we pay them for supplies, they will come to us of their own accord and bow their heads, asking for our protection. Our marching speed will rise substantially.”

Jenga’s interest rose. It sounded rather plausible.

“So… this is not some half-baked show of mercy?”

“It is not. I am talking about what maximizes our gain. We spill less useless blood and move faster to earn merit. Compared with Count Bellua’s reward, what is a small village worth?”

Jenga’s resolve wavered visibly. Shatien decided to drive the wedge home.

“All of what I said. Bring it to the Captain yourself.”

“Me?”

“Yes. A proposal at this level should come from someone of your standing, no? Let’s make it your idea.”

“Hahaha… I suppose I could.”

Stroking his thin beard with a greedy gleam at last, Jenga nodded.

“Fine! I will suggest it. You hold where you are and wait.”

It was a success.

Only then did Shatien let out a quiet breath of relief.