Grand Master
It had been thirty years since I'd been reincarnated into this fantasy medieval land.
As a former street urchin from the back alleys, I had no innate talent for handling mana, but with the knowledge and mindset of a modern man I carved out a new path of my own and became the youngest Sword Master at the age of twenty-five.
Any friction with the neighboring weak kingdoms was settled the moment I so much as flashed my sword aura.
Thanks to me—the first Sword Master to appear in over a hundred years—the Arno Kingdom had entered a golden age.
I'm bored… nothing to do.
Five years had passed since I became a Master.
Every problem that needed raw force had already been cleaned up, and I was stuck living a listless existence in my residence, doing nothing but freeloading meals.
My looks aren't bad, and there's nobody in this world stronger than me. So what the hell is the problem?
In this peaceful daily life, my biggest worry was:
Why don't girls like me?
It was a romance problem.
Having tasted modern civilization, the one thing I absolutely could not stand was boredom.
Ugh, I'm bored to death. Can't something fun happen already? Something that makes the dopamine go bang-bang.
"Marie, aaah~"
"Yes, here you go, aaah~"
I accepted the snacks my maid was feeding me while I watched the knights training beyond the window.
"Nom nom nom nom."
This medieval land has nothing to do for fun. Chess and other brainy stuff aren't my style…
I ended up staring for a long while at Marie, the maid feeding me snacks at my side.
Ah… I want a girlfriend. Should I just confess to Marie?
The previous maid had gotten married and left, and Marie had only recently been assigned as my exclusive attendant, so she was still overflowing with motivation.
"Marie."
"Yes, Lord Lucian?"
"What do you think of me?"
We've only known each other a short while… is it too soon?
"Pardon? What do you mean by that?"
Screw it. When have I ever cared about that kind of thing?
"Will you marry me?"
"Oh my?! I couldn't possibly, Lord Lucian."
"Yeah, figures…"
"You should meet someone far better than me, Lord Lucian!"
"What's wrong with you? You're pretty, kind, and hardworking."
"Wow~ Hearing you say that makes me so happy."
"Already got someone you're interested in?"
"It isn't that, but you're a Master, Lord Lucian. You ought to meet someone who matches that station."
So she doesn't have even a speck of interest in me.
"That so…"
In my previous life, people in my homeland married late as a rule, but this medieval land's marriageable age was ridiculously early.
"I'm already thirty… I'm way past due as it is. Where am I supposed to find someone better—"
"Here, aaah~"
"Aaah~ nom nom nom."
It's nice and all, but I feel like I'm being domesticated.
The boundary of adulthood here was fuzzy to begin with.
There was no concept yet of registering a birth and legally becoming an adult at a set age.
Wealthy families married as early as thirteen to eighteen and started having kids.
Kids who haven't even lived half as long as I have already have kids of their own…
I was grumbling to myself and swallowing my dissatisfaction when—
Knock knock—
"Master Lucian, I have come bearing a message from His Majesty."
That voice belonged to the royal head butler.
Whenever things went like this, it was always some annoying errand being dumped on me.
"Your Master isn't here right now."
Bang—
"Oh for—! I said he's not here!"
"Master Lucian, forgive my rudeness."
"So what is it? Spit it out. Aaah~"
Even with the head butler standing right there, I kept accepting snacks from my maid and prodded him to deliver the message.
"A declaration of war has arrived from the Cardis Empire."
Oh, so those bastards are finally moving. Slow-as-hell turtle bastards—how did they even become an empire?
"That sounds fun. Let's go see His Majesty right now."
A tiny kingdom going to war against a massive empire—my dopamine was already exploding.
At the long-awaited stimulating news I hurried after the head butler and arrived at the audience chamber of the royal palace.
"King Charles, I'm here."
"Sir Lucian, what are we to do?! The Cardis Empire, which had only been watching until now, has finally declared war!"
The man pacing restlessly was Charles de Arno, King of the Arno Kingdom.
The previous king had died young of illness, so Charles had taken the throne early; he was two years younger than me.
"War, big deal. Just trust me. I'll win the whole thing."
"I have every confidence in your ability, but the Empire has four Masters alone. On top of that the difference in troop numbers is more than tenfold—how do you propose to achieve victory?"
"Come on, you think those Empire bastards are crazy enough to dump their entire hundred-thousand-strong army on us? Whatever they can scrape together near the border won't even hit ten thousand."
"It's already awkward to request aid from our allies at this point, and against the Empire—"
"Hey! I said I'll win the whole damn thing!"
No matter how I looked at it, there was no way I could lose.
You think those Empire Masters can keep living after their heads get chopped off? With the pitiful imagination of these primitive medieval-landers, they'll never crack my formulas.
"Just sit back and enjoy the show. Those so-called Masters? I'm the Grand Master, damn it."
Le Grand Maître.
The territory that shared a border with the Cardis Empire was the Vertian Fief.
From the capital where I was staying, it took about four or five days by carriage to reach Vertian.
Ah… should I just quit…? No, if I take all the Empire Masters' heads, the dopamine hit will be insane.
I hated carriages.
In this era they still used hard seats and solid one-piece wheels with zero shock absorption, so the ride quality was, in every way, outstanding.
No choice, I guess. I'll just pack a mountain of cushions.
Becoming a war hero in fantasy medieval Europe.
How am I supposed to resist that?
Having experienced modern dopamine addiction, it was a temptation I could never refuse.
"Marie!!"
"Yes, did you call for me?"
"Yeah, I have to go to Vertian for a war, so pack me a ton of jerky."
Rattle— rattle—
No matter how many cushions I piled on, there was no fixing the fundamental shaking of this carriage.
"Urrrgh, I think I'm gonna throw up."
A smooth, stable ride is the domain of science.
After five days of hellish travel I finally arrived at the manor of the Vertian Fief.
Knights were lined up inside the main gate, and a middle-aged butler came out to greet me.
"Welcome, Master Lucian. The Count of Vertian is waiting for you."
"Got it. Take me straight there."
I was guided into the reception room, where the Margrave of Vertian was already waiting.
"A pleasure to meet you, Master Lucian."
Look at this guy's build. He could easily go three hundred pounds.
"I am Victor de Vertian, Margrave and lord of this Vertian domain."
True to his title as Margrave, he had a solid, sturdy frame and looked reasonably strong.
"When does the war start?"
"Accounting for the Empire army's travel time, we expect it in three to four days."
"Still that far off? What are those guys even good at doing quickly? These snail bastards."
"Quite a scathing assessment of the Empire."
"More importantly, feed me first. Something delicious."
I'd been chewing nothing but jerky for five days getting here and was completely drained.
If the food tastes bad, I'll carry out a petty, petty little revenge.
"Of course. I shall have a banquet prepared at once."
In my own residence I had snagged a royal chef, so the meals rivaled the royal family's.
If they tried to serve me preserved rations just because it was wartime, I would drag my feet and half-ass everything until their territory was half-destroyed before I moved.
"However, Master Lucian, I have never seen a Sword Master before, so I cannot help but wonder—even facing four Masters of the same rank, do you still have a chance of victory?"
"Same rank, my ass. Four is nothing. Ten or a hundred wouldn't matter. Margrave Vertian, do you think you'd lose a fight just because the number of ants increased?"
"Is that so? I suppose I am not in a position to evaluate a Master. When the banquet is ready I shall have a maid fetch you. A private chamber has been prepared—please rest at your ease."
The moment I entered the room I flopped onto the bed and closed my eyes.
Some time later, a voice calling me pulled me out of sleep. When I opened my eyes—
"Lord Lucian, the banquet is ready. I have come to guide you."
"Yeah, Oni-chan."
"I beg your pardon?"
The servants here seemed to have inherited their employer's personality—every one of them was stiff and blunt.
"Slip of the tongue. Let's go."
On y va.
"Yes, I shall guide you."
Looking at the blunt maid, I suddenly wanted to make her try something.
"Say it back to me once."
"Say what, my lord?"
"Call me Oni-chan."
"Oni-tian."
"You a cyborg or what? Forget it. Let's just go eat."
I followed the maid to the hall and sat across from Uncle Victor.
"Did you serve snail dishes because I called the Empire bastards snails?"
"How is it? Since you'll soon be cooking those snails yourself, I prepared them as an appetizer."
"Margrave Vertian, you're more fun than you look."
Edible snails were still a fairly luxurious ingredient in this world, so it made for a perfectly fine meal.
Four more days passed and the war was right on our doorstep. I was now in the command tent on the front lines.
The knights were discussing some strategy or tactics, but I knew nothing about that stuff so I just kept dozing off.
In the middle of that, a soldier burst into the command tent and shouted at the top of his lungs.
"The Empire army is coming into view!!"
"Oh for—! You scared the crap out of me! Who told you to yell?!"
"My apologies. Master Lucian, we expect to meet them within the hour."
"Right. Finally get to teach these mud monkeys a lesson. Let's move, everyone."
"A-are you certain you'll be all right? We have confirmed that all four Masters are gathered…"
That was excellent news for me.
All the suffering I'd gone through to get here was worth it.
"You're all saying that because you've never seen my full power. You think I got the title of Sword Master by faking it?"
"Forgive my doubt. Do you have a strategy prepared?"
"I am the strategy and the tactics."
With that I headed out to the frontmost line with the knights and waited for the encounter.
Before long the enemy arrived right in front of us, and some guys who looked important stepped forward from their side as well.
"So you are the new Sword Master of Arno?"
"Yeah, so what? You and those three old men over there are the Empire's Masters?"
From the look of them, the three holding swords or spears were knights, and the one wrapped in a blanket and holding a stick was obviously a mage.
"Rising to Sword Master at such a young age has made you arrogant, yet I like that spirit. Come to Cardis. Arno seems far too small to contain you."
You don't get it. If I'm going to win anyway, sticking with the weaker side is way more fun.
"Get lost."
"There are four Masters on this side. It will be too much for you alone."
"You're talking too much. You a bard or something? Want me to set up a table for tea time?"
The provocation landed perfectly. The middle-aged knight who had stepped forward to speak narrowed his eyes, drew his sword, and—
Shing—
He leveled the tip at me, settled into a stance, and began,
"If that is how you wish to play it, I shall oblige. I am Maxi—, Imperial Knight Commander of the Cardis Emp—"
Before he could finish the sentence I drew the sword at my waist, deployed the formula I had prepared, and took his head.
First strike wins. Let your guard down and your neck gets cut, you stupid old men.
Thud-thud-thud—
By the time the Empire Masters registered that one of their own had just lost his head to a sudden attack, the heads of the other three watching from behind also hit the ground in neat succession.
"See? Master or whatever, chop the neck and it's over."
The Empire soldiers froze solid, unable to say a word in the face of the absurd situation.
"What are you all staring at? Go collect the heads of the ones still left—nicely. Illegal dumping of trash is a crime. On the battlefield, I am the law. Got that?"
Right on cue, a man who seemed to be the knight commander of the Arno side stepped forward.
"You all heard that!! Every last Master of the Empire has lost his head!! The Master orders the remaining stragglers swept away!! All units!! Follow the knights and crush the Empire bastards!!"
"Waaaaaaaaah!!!!"
The remaining forces looked roughly equal in number, but the Empire army—having lost every Master—lost the will to fight and most of them simply fled.
The war against the Empire that everyone had expected to go badly turned into a one-sided massacre and was recorded as a perfect victory for the Arno Kingdom.