37 – Episode 37
# 37
While Ian was chasing Manticore’s trail and releasing a flock of birds,
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Lucy Talian had already met with the earl and finished discussing future matters.
“…So I barely managed to escape alone.”
At first, Lucy had steeled herself, vowing not to be swayed.
But when she started telling the story of her slain parents, her spirit rapidly declined.
It couldn’t be helped. She was just a girl who had turned eighteen.
Hence by the time she began to talk about escaping the territory, Lucy found it hard to control her emotions.
While looking at his sobbing niece, Earl Katina felt complicated emotions.
‘I warned them against those greedy rascals…’
The slain Lady Talian was the Earl’s younger sister.
Even though he had left home at a young age, family was still family. It would be a lie to say he had no affection for them.
The Viscount felt sympathy for his deceased younger sister and the daughter she had left behind.
At the same time, he felt anger towards the mercenary usurper who intended to murder the Baron and his wife and proceed with a marriage ceremony with Lucy.
Although the Baron and his wife were at fault, they were ultimately the ones who were murdered.
The Viscount had a justifiable cause for revenge for his sister.
‘…Making Lucy a Baroness wouldn’t be such a bad thing.’
Interfering with someone else’s succession is clear meddling in internal affairs. However, if Lucy came to him and asked for help first, the story changes.
The viscount quickly concluded his calculation.
To secure the territory, he’d put Lucy forward, then choose one of his vassals to marry Lucy. As a result, the title of Baron Tallyan would naturally fall under the power of the Viscount of Katina.
This is a great opportunity to expand his power using a suitable cause in these chaotic times.
“I understand all your feelings, Lucy.”
“Viscount…”
“Call me uncle, not viscount.”
“…!”
Moved by the Viscount’s friendly gesture, Lucy was sincerely touched. A product of her rich sensibility.
“From now on, don’t worry about anything. I will surely take revenge for your mother.”
“Oh, uncle…”
The Viscount never bothered to say something as tedious as ‘If I help you, this is what I want in return’. Such pointless words would only heighten Lucy’s defenses.
It’s never too late to request what he wants after everything is wrapped up.
His army must have already occupied the Tallyan territory, so what other choice did Lucy have?
Being the ‘kind-hearted uncle’, ‘rising an army for revenge on behalf of his sister’, ‘voluntarily’, was the most ideal picture.
Once everything is done, he can then pull the ‘I’ve gone to all this trouble for you, can’t you do me one small favor?’ card. It’ll be an unthreatening threat.
While comforting the sobbing Lucy, the Viscount began to prepare for the war step by step.
After the Santiago Knights had left.
Viscount Katina called together his followers, knights, and the mage Ian and made a declaration.
“You ought to know the story of my nephew well! I will punish the disgusting plunderer, Graim, and restore the law of this land!”
“Long live the Count!”
Soon after.
The Count’s army left their territory and set off.
#
Beneath the flag of Count Katina, nearly 400 mercenaries gathered.
Wars of this era were largely fought by mercenaries. Maintaining standing armies was difficult and cost a fortune. But with mercenaries, once you paid them, they provided a force ready for immediate use.
Especially when it came to territorial wars, mercenaries were indispensable. They couldn’t risk sacrificing their precious citizens (who represented their wealth) in power struggles.
“What do you think, Raven?”
Count Katina showed off his army to Ian with pride. It was a characteristic of the lords of this era to parade around with a sorcerer at their side.
“With force like this, wouldn’t it be easy to get rid of a single plunderer?”
The count looked at Ian with veiled eyes. He was seeking the wisdom of the magician.
Just as the case was in old stories, the magicians of this era often provided their wisdom to the lords.
“Ah. Yes. Well.”
However, Ian, who knew absolutely nothing about the military, had no advice to give.
For wars, mercenaries and knights are the experts, so it should move along if he entrusts it to them.
So, Ian put forth an opinion within reason.
“Although it’s a formidable force, since you’ve gathered a large crowd, pay attention to the food supply, and ensure diseases don’t spread when it rains.”
“Hmm… We’ll not be defeated unless sickness strikes, is that what you mean?”
Ian merely stated the obvious, yet the count nodded in pleased agreement.
“Raven. I wish you could be my eyes from now on.”
The Count showed clear signs of wanting to have Ian by his side. Though he desired a wizard assistant, to Ian it was merely a nuisance.
“I will assist where I can.”
“Good. I look forward to your valor.”
Ian shrugged off his shoulder. A performance? He had just received a magic scroll. He was merely following around for the sake of earning his meal.
After all, the knights and mercenaries took care of the fighting. There would be little for Ian to do on the battlefield.
“Ian!”
Lucy also joined the expedition. Her role was a mascot. More precisely, a living justification.
It was natural for Lucy to go along as they were on their way to reclaim her stolen territory.
“hehehe. The end is near!”
“…Didn’t we just set off yesterday?”
Though they just started off, Lucy already acted like she had won the fight.
Ian somewhat understood Lucy’s thinking. According to the intelligence, the strength of Graeme, the usurper, was only about 150.
Former mercenary was selling his fame to gather additional troops, but it was said that he would not exceed 200.
The Count’s army has 400. Seen simply as a numbers game, it’s more than twice as much.
It would be almost like they had already won the battle.
“So what! We have more numbers, and we have a wizard.”
“Right.”
Lucy already acted like the Viscountess of Tallian.
What she meant was, she had sold the manor that was not even in her hands yet.
“Hmm… what kind of reward should I give to Ian who’s been helping me so far~ Are you bored with receiving too much gold?”
Pardon? Me?
Confused, Ian stared at Lucy, but Lucy had already decided on her own that Ian was a wizard who was obsessed with gold. The fact that Ian wasn’t fussy about money had a big effect.
In reality, Ian wasn’t that poor. There was still some traveling money that Eredis had given him.
But what was this and what was that.
It wasn’t as if he had no money, but wouldn’t it have been better if he had some!
Unaware of Ian’s thoughts, Lucy intentionally brushed over the gold reward.
“Ah! There’s something Ian might be interested in. Would you like to take it?”
“What is it?”
“A magic sword said to have been used by the first Talrian baronet!”
“…?”
“The volunteer sword Anor-lsil. It’s a magic sword forged with the power of sunlight and moonlight.”
Lucy blabbishly explained about the family history.
It’s said that in his youth, the first Talrian baronet had met a fairy and shared a love with her.
At that time, while fighting against the goblins threatening the fairy forest, the fairies had made and gifted the baronet a magical sword with the power of the sun and the moon. The baronet then vanquished the goblins and became the savior of the fairies… Or so the story goes.
‘What, is this some old fantasy novel?’
It was even embarrassing to call it old. It was a scenario that had that full-on traditional British and American fantasy feel from the 1900s. Was the writer by any chance a fan of Tolkien?
Listening to the story, Ian suddenly had a strange thought.
“That…you know. Anor-lsil? If you have such a great magic sword, then why are you still baronets?”
“Me, baronet?! The way you say it sounds strange! That’s an insult, right?!”
Ian shook his head. It was obvious even without looking.
They would probably bring out some sort of dagger like the ones used in the stone age and say ‘This is the magic sword Anor-lsil~’, trying to sell that story. He had figured it out since the storytelling had become outdated.
In frank words, if Anor-lsil was a great magic sword, then there’s no way the Talrian family would still be baronets!
“First of all, it’s a story about stuff that happened over 400 years ago!”
“Oh. So, your family has been around longer than I thought?”
“And then…and then!”
Lucy’s face turned slightly red.
“Anorisil…it’s in the tomb of the first viscount.”
“What?”
Ian was taken aback.
No, didn’t they say it was a gift, a magical sword? They had talked as if it were as simple as picking up a weapon from his own rack. What? The magical sword is in the viscount’s tomb?
At Ian’s outburst, Lucy’s face reddened further.
“So, to get it…we have to open the tomb.”
“Wow…”
Ian was completely startled.
Are descendants supposed to dig up items sealed in the viscount’s tomb by the originator himself?
Is this…typical character of people in the medieval times?
“Damn it, is our ancestral grave some sort of time capsule? You’re just going to open and close it whenever you feel like it?”
“I, I’m the viscount! What does it matter!”
Ah. Ian sighed quietly.
Digging up ancestors’ graves for a treasure. This was a shocking proposal, something not easily receptive for a man hailing from a Confucian country where teachings of respect for the ancestors are alive and breathing.
Also, reopening a tomb once sealed did not seem like an easy task. If it were, that damned opportunistic tomb raider wouldn’t have wasted his time in Joseon and left empty-handed.
In a fantasy novel, a tomb hides myriad monsters and traps, a real dungeon.
Could it be…a grim plot by Lucy to send him into a dungeon and kill him because she doesn’t want to give him a reward?
“And you’re not even a viscount yet…”
“Exactly! I’ve just not inherited it yet, but I’m a baron! So it’s up to me how to manage my land’s affairs!”
Ian clicked his tongue in annoyance.
Judging by his eagerness to sell his household possessions now that he was to become a baron (not yet), the lineage of Baron Talian seemed likely to end with Lucy.
“I don’t know what it is, but you said it’s a magic sword. That’s a treasure, isn’t it? Can I even give it to a wandering wizard like me?”
Ian, who was starting to seriously worry about Lucy, did his best to preach to her.
“You said it seems to be a valuable thing. Wouldn’t it be better to use it for the sake of the family? It’s much better than boasting of becoming a baron and then blowing it off.”
“… “
Lucy stared at Ian in silence with her mouth tightly shut.
She seemed about to say something… but then shook her head and exclaimed.
“… You are suggesting to give that priceless thing to you! You idiot!”
“Lucy!”
Lucy poured out what she had to say like a character in a romance novel and disappeared somewhere.
Ian, left alone, scratched his head awkwardly.
Did I say something too harsh?
But no matter how much he thought about it, giving away the family heirloom to someone else was a bit…
No matter the reward for his hard work, it felt awkward for Ian to ask for the magic sword.
#
Ian, who embarked on a real march for the first time in his life, felt a slight flutter of excitement.
Wow! Medieval warfare! Soldiers marching to enemy territory!
But Ian’s excitement didn’t last more than three days.
There was nothing particularly special about the war. The march was more boring than he imagined.
If it was a game or a movie, majestic background music would be playing, unfolding the story of the soldiers and the general facing the war.
But reality is not a work of fiction.
There was no majestic background music. Only stifling silence and awkwardness. And the soldiers were filled with fatigue and irritability.
The mercenaries huddled together by affiliation, partaking only in conversations of their own knowledge… They treated mercenaries from other affiliations as distant strangers, like looking at one’s next-door neighbor. Their uniform and armament varied, an ragtag army lacking any sense of belonginess to the ‘Count’s army’. This was the army summoned by the ‘Count’ of this medieval fantasy world. ‘I wonder if they can actually fight properly.’ Primarily being mercenaries who earn their meals by the sword, they would charge at enemies. But their fighting strength? Who knows? Ian, fairly acquainted with this medieval fantasy world, had a brief understanding of the composition of these mercenaries. More than half were peasant fledglings who ran away from work. Over half were simpletons who wore a suit of thousand armor, picked up a hatchet, and blabbered ‘Hi~ I’m a mercenary~’. Their purpose was to merely serve as human shields. Acting as mere extras who provide opportunities for seasoned soldiers with proper equipment to shine. Even in mercenary groups, peasants were peasants. The small consolation was the number – around 400? “Ian, what are you doing?” “Boiling spoons.” There wasn’t a single mercenary who dared speak to Ian, the wizard, first. Ian, who’s different than when he first came out into the world. He had a wand and even raised a crow. He’s reached a point where people just knew he was a wizard without him having to shout ‘I’m a wizard’. “…Boiling spoons? Why?” Ian only had the Count, or Lucy, as his conversation partner. Lucy often came to visit Ian when she was bored. “You’re not… cooking, are you?” The unwitting Lucy was spreading rumors of Ian’s ‘eccentricities’. The mercenaries murmured ‘The wizard is boiling spoon soup…!’ as they watched Ian boil a spoon in a pot. Of course, Ian hadn’t gone mad enough to cook soup with a spoon. He sighed deeply at Lucy’s horrified expression. “It… it’s for sterilization.”
“Sterilization?”
“It’s about killing extremely small bugs that you can’t see…”
“That, that exists?!”
Ah, they don’t know. These ignorant, otherworldly fools.
This is ‘sterilization’. An act of killing bacteria.
Ian explained kindly, but Lucy could not understand his words.
“If they are small enough to be invisible… how can that bug still be alive?”
Exactly.
In fact, Ian didn’t know much about microbiology either. He accepted it as it was since Pasteur explained so.
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Fortunately, Ian is a wizard. He is the owner of a cheat key that can go around anything.
“So, it’s like a mystery, right?”
“Ah… I see!”
Lucy offered her spoon, asking him to boil it too.
Bubbles. ‘Spoon soup’ was boiling.
Several mercenaries who were watching this approached and spoke.
“Excuse me… Mister Wizard. Could you boil ours as well?”
What the mercenaries offered was salted meat.
It was their struggle to get a share of the mysterious soup of the wizard.
‘… This is not making soup. You bunch of jerks.’
It would take hundreds of years before these uncivilized medieval people could understand Ian.
Wkwk