Once Again, the Monster Subjugation

Mireia had no sense of social awareness whatsoever. To be fair, at this point it was my own fault — I should have seen this coming and warned her in advance. Asking for advice was fine. I just never imagined she would do it right out in the open, in front of the man currently glaring at me like he wanted me dead.

"Lady Mireia! Who in the world is this man, and why is he inserting himself at a time like this?"

The man who had finally snapped was not an adventurer. He was from the knighthood. An adventurer would never have dared speak to Mireia that way — not that it made my situation any less of a mess.

"This is precisely why I brought him here."

Mireia delivered the line with her usual blank expression, perfectly calm.

No. Please stop.

I would have given her my opinion later, in private, if she'd just asked. The last thing I needed was to be paraded in front of everyone. Could she not read the room at all? The entire subjugation force was looking at me like I was something stuck to the bottom of their boots.

If I let this go on, it was only going to get worse. I cut in before she could say another word.

"Mireia, wait. For now, just listen to what they have to say, and later we can—"

"Know your place. Lady Mireia covers for you, and now you actually fancy yourself someone of consequence?"

I hadn't even finished speaking before the armored man's words cut through me like a blade.

"That's not what I—"

"I am speaking with Lady Mireia! I have not the slightest interest in whatever you have to say."

He refused to give me even a sliver of an opening. And after being talked to like that, I was starting to get annoyed myself. It wasn't as if I wanted to be here.

"Enough."

Mireia's voice was short. The air around us seemed to grow a shade colder.

Was she actually angry?

"Do not speak to him that way."

"I beg your pardon? But I simply cannot comprehend—"

"Damon. Are you not the one under a misconception here?"

"I was merely—"

"Are you the commander of this force?"

"That is—"

"Yunoa is someone I chose personally."

Mireia's cold eyes locked onto the armored man she had just named Damon. So this was the Mireia that adventurers spoke of in fear. She was merely speaking, her face as blank as ever — and yet a chill ran through me so sharp I nearly shivered.

The furious momentum Damon had been riding collapsed in an instant. The other members of the force, watching from a distance, held their breath. Watching her now, I understood all over again why no adventurer had ever dared offer her a frank word of advice.

Regardless, I wanted this over with. She had brought me along because she lacked confidence in her own judgment. All I needed to do was stand beside her, listen to the decisions she made, and offer a quiet word of advice here and there. Quietly. Invisibly, if at all possible. I had already absorbed more than enough dirty looks and muttered curses behind my back. I had no desire to draw any more attention.

That hope lasted approximately three seconds before it died in the worst possible way.

Mireia spoke, in front of everyone.

What?

"That is how much I trust this man. Do you understand?"

Damon's eyes, as the knights' representative, nearly popped out of his skull. Gasps of shock and disbelief rippled through the rest of the force.

I wanted to be a mole. I wanted to turn into a mole, dig a hole, and disappear into the earth.

"What's the deal between that guy and Lady Mireia?"

"How did a nobody like that manage to wrap Lady Mireia around his finger?"

"He's been getting special treatment since we left. You think he's got something on her?"

Whispers. Murmurs. After Mireia's bombshell of a declaration, the mood in the subjugation force turned even uglier. Of course it did. If I were in their shoes and some mutt of a nobody suddenly rode in on the commander's coattails and sat in on a strategy meeting, I'd be cursing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠him out too.

The looks being thrown my way had grown a shade more vicious. That much was not my imagination. The milk was already spilled, I supposed. Nothing to be done about it now. How was I supposed to show my face at the guild after this? No adventurer would dare voice a complaint to Mireia's face — but I had no doubt they were cursing me out in their heads.

"As I stated earlier, we ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠must split the force in two and strike first. Their numbers are considerable, but at present we see nothing but weaklings — goblins and the like. We must launch a preemptive attack before anything stronger has a chance to gather."

Damon, the knights' representative, addressed Mireia again, his face twisted as if he'd bitten into something foul. Mireia listened to the proposal, then turned to look at me.

"What do you think, Yunoa?"

"……"

If I didn't say something, this agonizing strategy session was never going to end. Damon was staring at me with such intensity that I half expected flames to start pouring from his eyes, a muscle twitching in his cheek. He was looking at me as if the words say one stupid thing and you die were written across his face. What was I supposed to say to that?

"Well… it should be fine."

The monster horde was split in two, so splitting our force to match made a certain amount of sense. Honestly, I didn't know enough to have an opinion. You can't propose something when you don't know the first thing about it.

"Is that so. Then that is what we shall do."

Mireia nodded. Damon spoke up again.

"Furthermore, let us divide the units between adventurers and non-adventurers. I shall take responsibility only for the knights and soldiers I brought with me. Our numbers will be somewhat fewer, but I believe this arrangement will prove more convenient."

The tone was polite enough, but the way he wanted to split the force made his real intention obvious: he had no interest in operating alongside the adventurers. Dividing them that way would leave Damon's unit short by nearly ten people, and he was still insisting on it. A protest, in all but name.

"What do you think, Yunoa?"

Mireia asked for my opinion again, as if Damon's little performance had nothing to do with her. What kind of farce was this? Damon proposed a plan, Mireia turned to me as if she were checking his homework, and I answered without knowing a thing. The strategy meeting had settled into a pattern, like three people performing a comedy sketch that had long since stopped being funny.

As a result, every proposal Damon put forward as the knights' representative was being accepted without modification. Whether his strategy was sound or not was beyond me to judge. I didn't know enough to have an opinion, and pushing back would only look like I was throwing my weight around on someone else's coattails. All I could do was go along with whatever he wanted.

Around the time the strategy meeting was wrapping up under Damon's lead, the Narration began to speak.

"All right, hurry it up! Prepare to move out!"

Damon was already dividing the force according to what had been decided in the meeting. The knights and soldiers attached to the expedition all moved in the direction he indicated. And through it all, the Narration kept going.

The Narration's contents were growing steadily more ominous.

That was a problem. If what the Narration had just told me was true, we shouldn't have been splitting our forces at all. We should have been digging in right here and fighting a defensive battle. The Horn Canyon, where we were currently encamped, happened to be extraordinarily favorable terrain for a defense.

Damon's unit began to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠move, slowly at first. Having just been shown their grim future through the Narration, I could not let things continue as they were.

"Mireia. Stop that unit right now. We need to reexamine the plan."

I spoke quickly. She didn't ask a single question. She simply halted Damon's unit on my word.

Damon turned back, irritation plain on his face.

"What is it now?"

"Yunoa says we need to review the strategy."

Mireia said it with a frankness that made even me want to crawl under a rock. Damon's face crumpled. He glared at me as if he meant to kill me on the spot and raised his voice.

"You're listening to that bastard again? Who is the commander of this force, exactly? Does he truly warrant this degree of special treatment?"

Yeah. I'd seen that coming. But if I let Damon's unit march off and get wiped out, we were going to be in serious trouble ourselves. If the Narration was right, we had to keep the force's losses to an absolute minimum. For this operation to succeed, someone had to change course — right now.

I sighed.

Keeping a low profile was a lost cause at this point anyway. If I was going to get cursed out either way, sitting still and taking it was starting to piss me off.

In their eyes, I was some mysterious Silver-rank mutt riding Mireia's coattails, soaking up special treatment I hadn't earned. All I'd done was stand there, only to get dragged into this subjugation force against my will and hauled all the way out here. I'd been trying to keep my head down as much as possible, if only because I could feel every pair of eyes on me. It wasn't as if I'd thrown Mireia's name around to throw my weight. So why was I catching this much heat?

There's a saying for this. If someone hates you for no reason, give them a real one.

"Mireia. You said you'd follow my orders without question, didn't you?"

"I did."

I made the request of Mireia. It was an unprecedented demand — one that left everyone around us stunned. She didn't hesitate for even a second.

"Understood."

Special treatment? Fine. Let me show you what real special treatment looks like.