Hero
Hero
Having people around me openly busy fawning over me was a first for both my past and current lives, but I couldn't exactly call it a pleasant experience.
There were two reasons for that. One was that they were genuinely sincere in their fervor for this situation, and the other was the reality that they were acting like this while we were still in the thick of it, bashing heads with the orcs.
Watching these people happily equip themselves with the exact conditions the royal family would love—idolization and the planting of fleeting hope—was already giving me a headache. Even just the few I could see right in front of me were looking at me with hopeful eyes as if I was about to personally resolve this whole mess, and part of me wanted to go over and smack the backs of their heads.
Still, it seemed no one had tried a large-scale fame-building campaign while I was unconscious, since among the fanatical ones I also spotted some who looked like they had no idea what was going on. And taking a closer look at the ones cheering with hope, most of them were the adventurers hired to guard the village.
Well, that changed the story. I kicked dirt at the cheering bastards and shouted.
"You dumb shits, use that time to go kill one more orc instead!!"
"Gah! Ptoo! Ptoo!"
It would've been great if I could have shattered the heated mood with a single roar, but the ones whose eyes had already rolled back just giggled happily even after getting a mouthful of dirt. I felt a bit of relief thinking it meant the casualties had been that light, but I still couldn't help finding the sight utterly displeasing.
"Sir Ega! Are you truly alright to move around?!"
I wanted to keep kicking dirt at the morons, but because of Bisquente, who had rushed over in an instant, I let out a sigh and had to stop the kicking.
"Fortunately, I have no discomfort moving. Can you tell me how the situation has been progressing?"
"Of course! Let's head to the command post together. Still, are you really alright? You were bedridden for three days."
"Absolutely. We're all out here trying to make a living. I'm not about to push useless pride over this."
If pushing pride could solve things, I'd at least try, but things that conveniently turn out that way are few and far between. Even as Bisquente guided me to the command post, the cheers kept coming from behind, but he said nothing, as if he considered the adventurers' reaction perfectly natural.
"Is it alright to just leave them like that?"
"Hahaha, one can hardly fault them for being excited about a heroic feat. You may have noticed, but most of them were hired for village defense. It's not as if they're negatively affecting morale, and it feels a bit awkward to forbid them from cheering for the one who saved them from a near-death crisis."
Ugh. A sound argument, so I had nothing to say. As I fell silent with a shit-eating grimace on my face, Bisquente gave a small nod and continued.
"As you likely heard to some extent from Asilie, the situation has far exceeded our expectations. Decision-making authority for this incident has completely passed to the royal family, and the commander has been changed from Sir Heiri to someone else. The wyvern knights are focusing on large-scale sweeps of the orc forces spreading outward, rather than striking at the enemy's main headquarters."
"...Does that mean the orcs are being replenished that quickly?"
"Fortunately, it's not to that extent. It's simply that they are extremely busy performing a sort of driving hunt."
I didn't sense any unease from Bisquente as he calmly answered. But I couldn't tell whether that came from faith that the royal family had this situation completely under control, or from the mindset of a knight fighting on the battlefield.
"The expected enemy troops alone number in the thousands, and unlike the capital, the nearby cities have drawn even their city guards to establish a defensive line. We're fortunate our opponents are orcs. Had this been an army of the Demonfolk, the damage would have been truly horrific."
Seeing him assume the worst yet still manage to smile about the current situation, a tough bastard was a tough bastard indeed. As I inwardly admired that, we arrived at a massive tent so utterly luxurious it didn't match the battlefield at all. I'd never personally seen a military command post, but no matter how much this world ran on fantasy logic, this was a little over the top in its splendor.
Even the person standing guard in front wasn't a regular soldier but a knight, so while we still had some distance from the command post, I decided to voice my candid thoughts early.
"This looks like a command post where someone of very high rank has come to stay."
"That's because an envoy from the Noble Council has personally visited."
"...An envoy from the Noble Council?"
The only person I could think of who'd be called an envoy there was Duke Lesrom or someone like him. Surely that old fox couldn't have come all the way out here...
"Ah, you may not be familiar with the nobles' bynames. I am referring to His Excellency, Duke Lesrom Zrasil Tusin Rawinera, the head of the Noble Council."
...He was here.
Why was he here?
My expression slipped for a moment, but fortunately, Bisquente was ahead of me notifying the knight on guard of our visit and didn't see my dumbfounded look. An impulse surged up to just pretend I hadn't noticed and turn around to go back, but Bisquente finished his talk in an instant and gestured for me to enter, holding the tent flap open, so I couldn't.
"Haaaa... I smell trouble brewing."
How should I put this.
It was that feeling of having something you were planning to handle anyway, but the moment you reach out to deal with it, someone asks you to handle it, and suddenly you desperately don't want to. Still, backing out now would put Bisquente, a pleasant storyteller and one of the few sensible nobles, in a difficult spot, so I had no choice but to follow him inside.
"Ah, come in, come in. It feels like it's been a while. Care for a cup of tea?"
The moment I stepped inside, in stark contrast to the lavish exterior, the command post was furnished with truly practical and simple tools and furniture. Inside, Duke Lesrom welcomed me warmly, brushing the fatigue that had fully settled on his face aside. His attitude was no different from when I occasionally visited the Noble Council, but the problem was that he wasn't alone in the command post. He was sitting gathered with other nobles who had brought their personal troops, in the middle of what was either a discussion or a meeting.
Because of that, the leisurely gazes of the nobles who had been mid-meeting with him all shifted to me in unison. Shifted into a nuance of, 'What kind of mannerless bastard cuts into a meeting of nobles and ruins the atmosphere?'—turned into extremely irritated, utterly disgruntled sneers filled with discontent.
At those shitty looks, Bisquente looked at me with some bewilderment, and without even realizing it, I tilted my head to the side.
"Wh... Gulp!"
"Hrk!"
Then, the ones who had turned their heads as if about to hurl their complaints at me any second now flinched in terror and quickly snapped their gazes back to their original positions. What the hell? Even I wouldn't draw a sword on a noble just because they looked at me sideways.
Could it be that these fellows had something on their conscience?
"As it happens, we were in the middle of formulating a concrete plan regarding the orc subjugation. Come, have a seat."
Regardless, Duke Lesrom smiled a subtly mischievous smile and offered me a seat, and one of those who had whipped their heads back around at near neck-snapping speed hastily opened his mouth in protest.
"Y-Your Excellency! No matter how much merit he has accrued, how can a mere commoner be seated at a gathering of commanders who must devise strategy and tactics..."
Hmmmmm.
He had the universal elitist mindset of a noble, was dissatisfied with a situation beneath his station, and yet rather than blaming Duke Lesrom for making that decision, he was whining to him. Looking around briefly, everyone seated had similar reactions while gazing at him.
It was definitely true that they were all nobles, but I couldn't get a handle on exactly what the situation was, so I kept my mouth shut. Then Duke Lesrom answered the noble's protest with a composed attitude.
"What you say is largely correct, but do not forget he is no mere commoner. How can one who has achieved great merit for the kingdom be called a mere commoner? Moreover, as you all already know, Eldmia here nearly annihilated an orc cavalry unit single-handedly. Previously, he infiltrated the traitor Envelde's mansion alone and cut off his head. Even as a single man, his ability rivals the power of an army. If you think of him as a one-man army, does he himself not have sufficient qualification as both an army and commander to participate in this meeting?"
At Duke Lesrom's attitude, laughing "Hoho" as if he'd just told an amusing story, the nobles who had raised complaints awkwardly exchanged glances and forced laughter of their own.
When Duke Lesrom, who had naturally cast his gaze over those nobles, shifted his eyes back to me, I felt I could guess at least part of that old snake's intentions.
It seemed he'd gathered these incompetent officers here with the intent of using the orcs to do some additional housecleaning, so to speak.
In that case, I was willing to lend a hand. I straightened my posture, bowed slightly at the waist in accordance with proper etiquette, and opened my mouth.
"I merely won against orcs, which are nothing more than monsters. Such expressions are excessive, so please, do retract them."
I didn't miss Bisquente flinching beside me and the nobles looking at me with odd gazes as Duke Lesrom's smile deepened. What a black-hearted old bastard, honestly.
"Hoho. Excessive? Don't be modest. You slaughtered dozens of orcs single-handedly as if an army had swept through them. Is that not a sufficiently splendid great deed?"
"The result was being bedridden for three days. It was nothing more than a coincidence born of reckless courage. Any single one of the nobles here has but to draw their sword and command their forces, and they could gift ten times, twenty times the number of orcs with death and despair, then return as if nothing had happened. How could this be called a great deed?"
At my reply, the nobles momentarily flinched, and Duke Lesrom's eyes gleamed. I'd tossed out the bait for these men who would die for face and honor, so the rest depended on Duke Lesrom's silver tongue.
Of course, Duke Lesrom's silver tongue was spectacular. After he'd sweet-talked and roasted the nobles, it didn't even take 10 minutes for them to be pushed into grudgingly charging toward the great orc horde. Left alone with Duke Lesrom, I watched the ones leaving the command post with expressions that weren't quite laughter or tears before turning to him. I then had a private audience with him.
"So, what do you want to do and how?"
The moment we were alone, he wasted no time on pleasantries, casually yet intimately bringing up a topic that was anything but light. He truly was an old snake, as expected. Honestly, it felt like we both had a mountain of questions for each other, but time was short, so I decided to match him directly.
"I'd like to borrow a wyvern pilot."
"Gies, was it? That fellow is on standby inside the encampment, so take him. Anything else?"
"I'd also like to borrow the wyvern knights for a moment."
He had coolly agreed up to just a pilot, but at the mention of wyvern knights, he frowned slightly and started to ponder. Still, it was a bit surprising that he didn't immediately refuse, even without knowing what I was planning.
"...Hrmm, what exactly are you trying to do?"
Duke Lesrom's manner as he probed back, subtly hinting that borrowing the wyvern knights specifically would only be possible for a valid reason, looked somehow timid for some reason. So I laughed softly as I answered.
"I intend to close the gate in my own way."