Quickening
Quickening
Obviously, I didn't have horns growing out of my head, and I'd never used transformation magic, so the moment Ruber and the other soldiers finished checking me, question marks practically began floating over all of their heads.
That reaction was expected, but what followed was a little different.
"For dragging the law of the frontlines all the way to the capital, committing discourtesy, and causing a disturbance, I sincerely apologize."
I really hadn't expected them to simultaneously drop to their knees and apologize without any resistance or denial of reality. Hell, they were even genuinely relieved that I wasn't a member of the Demonfolk. Honestly, I'd figured at least one of them would be bursting with pride about being soldiers who'd held out on the frontlines and might cause a little friction... but there wasn't a hint of that, which was the only surprising part.
Because of that, I ended up slightly revising my original plan to completely fleece the hazard pay they'd earned on the frontlines.
"Since it was a measure taken with a heart devoted to protecting the kingdom, I will take that fully into account and accept only half."
Shouldn't maintaining good relations with people who have such a stalwart professional spirit be helpful for retaking the Levien Margraviate anyway?
Sheryl was appalled at my incredibly generous treatment, and Ruber asked back with an expression like he doubted his own ears.
"Excuse me?"
"I said I'll only take half of what's in your pouches."
In a situation where not only the other soldiers around but even Sheryl couldn't hide her admiration, I shook my coin pouch to signal them to hurry up. Ruber, who was the most overcome with emotion, let out a dumbfounded laugh and willingly opened his own pouch.
The money gathered that way was pretty substantial. Partly because five of the twenty who surrounded us were knights, their pouches were fat, but it also seemed to be because they hadn't had much chance to lighten their pouches while holding the frontlines. After checking the settlement they'd offered, I pulled out one gold coin and handed it back to Ruber.
Facing his expression that seemed to ask what the hell this was as he suddenly received back about twenty percent of the money they'd given, I explained with a bright smile.
"However, separate from this unintentional friction, as a citizen of the kingdom I am grateful for your dedication to protecting it, and this is a token of my gratitude toward you all. Please use it to relieve the fatigue accumulated on your long journey."
"......Thank...you..."
Ruber's expression as he forced out a reply was quite a sight.
Still, don't think too badly of it, folks—you just happened to run into a problem because you were too good at your jobs. I needed to at least make a precedent that your pouches could get wrecked so others would be careful too.
Better than losing your heads, physically or politically, right?
Anyway, since everything was resolved amicably, in a world where not only the soldiers and knights who saved their lives with pocket change were happy, but I was happy with my side income too, we paid for the axe modification with our now-plump pouches, left Mr. Balkun's shop, wrapped up a strangely exhausting day, and headed home.
"How does the idea of extorting money from frontline soldiers even occur to someone...?"
But Sheryl, who'd just watched from the sidelines, voiced an opinion quite different from mine, as I considered it a happy ending for all. Of course, I had nothing to feel guilty about, so I answered Sheryl's dumbfounded muttering confidently.
"Extorting money is the better option. If things go wrong, it turns into extorting lives."
"That's... true, but."
No matter how much a wandering knight is treated as somewhere between a semi-knight and a full knight, being simultaneously recognized by both the royal and imperial households means my standing is fundamentally different from ordinary wandering knights.
On top of that, with the medal I received this time added in, I'd become a ridiculous wandering knight that most ordinary knights or nobles couldn't even treat casually, and they'd accused me of being a member of the Demonfolk. No matter how much it was the best judgment they could make, it was no different from them staking their own lives to uphold their conviction to eliminate a threat to the kingdom.
"As the person involved, my blood ran cold, but what lunatic would legitimately acknowledge a suspicion based solely on gut feeling? Just wrapping it up as a minor matter resolved with money and letting it fade away is actually better for those people."
If I'd formally protested, their pouches might have been protected, but it's obvious it would've become a massive political headache too. The power brokers in the capital would've thrown a fit about how they attacked an innocent person—someone who'd even received a medal—based purely on gut feeling, ignoring kingdom law. And the frontline military command would've asserted it was a justified response, knowing full well that their gut feelings aren't something to dismiss lightly.
After I said that much, Sheryl wore an expression of surprise and voiced her impression of my argument.
"I just thought you were simply pissed off and trying to squeeze money out of them."
"......"
Somehow, lately, the evaluations from people around me seem way too harsh.
◈
Knight Ruber was a veteran who'd served on the very front lines for roughly three and a half years.
The process of the youngest son of a baronial house whose name wasn't even properly known scraping through academy graduation, surviving and distinguishing himself on the battlefield, and becoming a full knight had never been smooth, but Ruber managed it somehow. As time went on, he began to be recognized as a knight with decent skills and savvy, and after those evaluations accumulated, he was selected for this Levien recapture operation.
When he'd heard that his name was on the list of participants for an operation rumored to involve those who could be called elite, if not the absolute best, a forgotten sense of pride had faintly lifted its head.
It had started as fulfilling his duty as a noble and proving his loyalty to the royal family, but at some point it had become a military life closer to simply enduring day by day—to survive, to protect his comrades, and to prevent those merciless Demonfolk's violence from encroaching on the kingdom. It was no exaggeration to say this was a new turning point.
The capital he'd come up to like that welcomed him and the other frontline soldiers grandly, and in a mood where the heroism he'd thought had completely burned out over three years of battle flickered like embers, Ruber, ordered to rest, had gone out sightseeing in the capital for the first time in ages.
It had definitely been truly enjoyable right up to that point...
So how had he ended up on the moonlit parade ground now, stuck in a head-down punishment position?
Of course he knew the reason well, but it felt unjust.
"What the fuck did I tell you bastards on leave?"
No one could answer the woman's question spoken in a ringing voice. The woman's mood was very foul, and everyone knew that in times like this, before she said 'No answer?' they'd just get cursed out more if they answered unnecessarily.
Yes, not just Ruber but all twenty knights and soldiers holding that same punishment position with him. They'd already vented some of their resentment by getting thoroughly drunk on the money they'd received almost like charity after that painful payout, but their judgment hadn't gone crooked along with their bodies.
Though their bodies were staggering a bit.
"Fuck, no answer?"
"Don't act like frontline dogs! You told us not to cause trouble even if we got beaten for it!"
"And you bastards who remember that caused this massive incident?!"
It was a truly bizarre situation: they felt wronged, yet it was a situation where they knew they shouldn't. That went for Ruber and everyone else holding the punishment position.
No, fuck. We really did sense a Demonfolk presence, okay?
As they mumbled around the one sentence they couldn't bring themselves to say aloud, the woman standing over them continued to bark and berate them.
"You shit-for-brains mongrel pups! Just because you sensed a Demonfolk presence, you surround someone in broad daylight in the middle of the dwarf district? And it was the Ogatorf young lady and a freshly famous wandering knight who's the talk of the capital? Why didn't you just shove a blade in his gut? Haven't you fought bastards who transform right before they die? Why didn't you check that too? Why didn't you, I said!!"
Clang! The woman's kick struck someone's side with a clear metallic sound. It wasn't even loaded with aura, and everyone was in armor and holding their posture, so there was no damage. Only the sense of injustice kept piling up.
On the front lines, if even three people shared the same hunch, the target was invariably Demonfolk. So who could possibly have imagined that the person twenty of them had confidently seized would really be an ordinary member of the Human Race? Honestly, until Sheryl stepped in to defend him, Ruber had thought it far more likely that some mistake had been made and she was being deceived.
The problem was that it wasn't. No, it was fortunate it wasn't... but anyway, it felt unjust.
And what they didn't know was that their superior, this woman, was also in a very unjust situation right now.
"You fuckers—do you know what that man did to become a wandering knight before you messed with him? They say he's the one who lopped off that Envelde son of a bitch's head. And that's not all—he saved the Empire's Iron... 1st Princess, saved the Margrave of Levien we're supposed to help this time, lopped off a Demon Dragon's head that was secretly lurking in the academy basement and saved the academy too! Even during the recent massive invasion by those orc bastards—fuck! That man! Smashed a gate! And saved the capital!! He's a! Fucking! Goddamn! No-shit! Savior! You! Bastards!!"
Why wouldn't she trust her subordinates' senses?
They were subordinates who'd not only endured on the frontlines for over two years but had also racked up various meritorious deeds. The woman could pride herself on trusting her subordinates more than most nobles.
But the problem was that this trust only extended to their sword-fighting ability, and she'd found out only today—of all days—that they had issues in political matters and using their heads shrewdly. The fact that she'd found out through such a massively blown-up incident made her feel like complaining to someone, anyone.
"No matter how much he fucking!! Seemed like a member of the Demonfolk! You should've reported first! Even if, worst case, that man was a fucking Demonfolk!! In the short time it took you to report and assess the situation!! Would a guy who'd been staying in the capital for over two years have suddenly gone berserk and caused trouble?! If they hadn't graciously ended it well on their side, you all would've been sent to the penal unit, you bastards!! The penal unit! How is this not a total fuck-up?!"
-Clang!
The woman, who'd been peacefully enjoying a rare afternoon nap after years only to be suddenly dragged off and verbally beaten black and blue by both the Noble Council and the royal family, kept kicking them for a long while after that.