Chapter 4
Chapter 4
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: A Use for Traitors Too
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Two weeks after that.
A single room was cleared out and renovated by Leon Dustycloak himself. Light armor, several swordsmanship training manuals, and a few training tools were brought in, and the training room was completed quickly.
The door had a double-lock structure, ventilation was possible through a window, and there were wooden swords, real swords, and even chainmail vests and shackles for the limbs—though they were a bit worn and didn't quite fit his frame—that knights used for training. Without even being asked, everything Beonald wanted was there.
It seemed his mother was more capable than Beonald had thought.
"Um... Beonald is only five years old. Isn't all this a bit unnecessary? And leaving real swords out... What if he plays with them and gets hurt...?"
"You're a proper knight now too, aren't you? Training equipment like this is basic."
'That's right. It's basic. Of course, of course~ Anyway, it's fortunate that Mother's family is a proper noble household. They sent books and all the training tools, even if they aren't the best quality. Maybe it's like insurance? Or a favor? Well, it doesn't matter. I got what I need now, so it's fine!'
Regardless of the process, all Beonald needed was a place where he could train alone in solitude.
And so, while diligently pretending to receive the education his governess provided so as not to hinder his swordsmanship training, he began to devote himself seriously to swordsmanship.
p>"Truly, now I can finally start swordsmanship. Hoo~"
The swordsmanship knowledge Beonald possessed consisted of three types in total.
The 'Imperial Knight Sword Style' and the 'Imperial Family's Heirloom Sword Style,' which he had struggled so hard to steal, and then the derivative style of the Imperial Knight Sword Style, which existing Neumel family members who had served in the Imperial Knight Order had passed down and improved upon upon retirement—commonly known as the 'Derivative-Neumel Family Sword Style.'
'Even if it's a derivative, it was something that pulled its weight.'
Among these, the Derivative-Neumel Family Sword Style was something his ancestors hadn't been able to steal the core of, so it was a style pieced together from fragments of the Imperial Knight Sword Style and polished—truly a derivative.
However, it was ultimately by Beonald's generation, after being elevated to Duke and ruling for two imperial reigns, that he was able to properly steal the Imperial Knight Sword Style, its mana training method, and even the secret sword style of the Imperial Family.
One was a basic quality for a family head, and the other two were treasures of incomparable value to the world, so Beonald remembered every single oral transmission, every single movement, without omission.
'Hmm... It sounded good just hearing about it, but now I'll be learning it directly. How exciting.'
Moved, Beonald immediately began drawing up mana and focusing on his training.
He started first with the 'Derivative-Neumel Sword Style.' Even though it was a collection of fragments, it was a style that had been improved over a long time by his ancestors, making it the most suitable for the Neumel family's constitution and tendencies.
Unlike the strong, overbearing Imperial Knight Sword Style and the Imperial Family's Heirloom Sword Style, it was flexible and mixed in many deceitful feints, right?
It was a sword style that used many techniques that orthodox swordsmen or knights would be horrified by, a style created by the Neumel family, which lacked any sense of warrior's pride.
"Imperial Knight Derivative Sword Style, Neumel First Form—Viper!"
The sword that had been swinging horizontally transformed into a powerful thrust as Beonald concentrated his consciousness.
The image of a 'snake.' It was said the Neumel family had a deep connection with 'snakes' since ancient times, which is why the family crest was the Hydra, a mythical creature with multiple snake heads.
Naturally, all the names of the sword techniques developed were derived from 'snakes.'
'What's wrong with snakes anyway...'
While others saw them as ominous or cunning, for the Neumel family, it was a symbol they took pride in.
"Hoo~ I've seen it a lot... but doing it myself feels different. Hoo~ And as expected! This level of consumption is necessary so the body doesn't bear too much burden!"
Going beyond simply swinging and moving, as he executed the form, his body began to heat up. Satisfied, Beonald smoothly focused on his training.
Thanks to the double lock, he could train with peace of mind. Alternating between swordsmanship and rest, he rapidly honed his skills.
The path of martial arts was unfamiliar to him, who had been engrossed in politics and territory management, but still, feeling his body activate and regain youth was a very pleasant thing.
In the past, when he was locked away in that hellish education facility, forced to learn under the guise of being a bit smart, it truly felt like being in hell.
It was fortunate he discovered alchemy; otherwise, Family Head Beonald wouldn't even exist.
***
Five years later.
"Hoo~ Time seems to pass slowly, yet it goes by so fast~" Having received his personal training room, Beonald had now turned ten years old. His parents still loved and cared for Beonald, but thanks to the training room, he was able to practice mana training and swordsmanship here without major interruptions. And to ensure it didn't hinder that, he shed his ignorant appearance regarding academics and quickly graduated from his governess's education.
"I'm sorry, Young Master. We have nothing more to teach you. Unless we find a new tutor from outside..." 'Hmm, with this much... Anyway, having more time to train is good.' The training room, as per the basic design, had a heavy iron door with a double lock, so no one could enter recklessly. Later, he even brought meals in advance so he could focus solely on training. True to someone who had already achieved greatness in one field, he mercilessly knew how to succeed. And perhaps that effort showed results? Today, Beonald, with a height and build unbelievable for a ten-year-old boy, was swinging his sword.
"Hoo..."
Height about 170 cm, weight about 68 kg. A handsome boy with deep black hair and blue eyes, who didn't look like a ten-year-old at all, was wearing chainmail armor and hard leather over it, sweating continuously as he practiced the 'Imperial Knight Sword Style Derivative-Neumel Style.' 'I underestimated martial arts too much. Learning just the forms is easy, but reaching the true meaning is really difficult. Especially since I'm an alchemist, it seems incredibly hard to grasp that abstract enlightenment. Damn it!' Alchemy is a study of reason, rationality, and reactions. If you put elements or magical power into a potion, the reaction that should occur immediately springs forth, giving you the result right away. Salt plus water equals saltwater, sugar plus water equals sugar water. Because of this, Beonald liked things that were definite. But this 'martial arts' was ultimately achieved through enlightenment. The concept was very abstract, and the fact that you had to repeat endlessly, gaining experience and training until you mastered a technique, made it seem truly inefficient. '...But it's the same anyway. In the end, alchemy also involves endless experiments and trial and error until you find the optimal formula and result, so this too requires training until it clicks. Anyway, until I master the Neumel family sword style, which was made from the dregs of the Imperial Knight Sword Style, I absolutely won't touch any other sword style.' Driven by stubborn pride, Beonald persistently focused only on the Neumel family sword style for the past five years. Because he couldn't accept that he, the greatest family head in Neumel history, who had even obtained the Imperial Family's Heirloom Sword Style, was struggling to properly master even his own family's sword style. 'If I'm going to struggle, it should be with the Imperial Knight Sword Style or the Imperial Family's Heirloom Sword Style! I can't run away because I'm stuck on the Neumel family sword style, a mere "derivative" pieced together and improved by those incompetent humans who remained at the Earldom level!' Clang! Clack! Clack! While he was continuously training the Neumel family sword style, the sound of the double lock on the training room door being opened came from outside. 'Someone's here.' Beonald immediately stopped training, quickly removed all the iron lumps he had put on to burden his body—the chainmail, leather armor, etc.—and placed them on the spot, then greeted the person opening the door.
"What? It's you, old man? What's up?"
"It's dinner time, Young Master Beonald. The Master and Mistress wish to dine together..."
No matter how often he brought food into the training room, it was natural to have meals with his parents whenever possible. He still felt strange about this harmonious family, but since it was something he hadn't enjoyed in his previous life, he wanted to cherish the time with his current family as much as possible.
"Oh, is it already that time? When you're training, you lose track of time. Hoo~ I'll just do my cool-down stretches and come right down. Need to loosen the muscles..."
Having studied alchemy and become knowledgeable about medicine, Beonald knew well what to do after exercise.
"Yes, Young Master. Preparations for washing are ready in the bathroom, so you can go after that." 'That single large tub, right? I was surprised at first since I'd only seen such things in stables. Hahaha.' In the bathroom, there was only a large tub, two or three bars of soap, and a crude towel made from unused cloth for lathering. Imagining the enormous baths he used to enjoy in the past, Beonald sighed helplessly and washed his soap-covered body clean with a water dipper. After coming out, changing into the prepared clothes, and heading straight to the dining room, his parents were already eating.
"Oh, Beonald, you're here?"
"Yes, Mother. I'm sorry for being late. I was washing up."
"By the way, Beonald, you... you're growing up so fast. Haha. There's still five years until your coming-of-age ceremony, but you look like an adult to anyone..."
Looking at Beonald's growth at only ten years old, Leon Dustycloak initially felt something odd, but recalling that his own father, the previous family head and founder, had a giant frame, he rationalized that it must be due to that influence or the influence of his truly noble maternal side and quickly accepted it. 'Come to think of it, didn't Father also say he grew quickly? Hmm... If I think of it as that genetics...' "It's all thanks to Father and Mother's care. There are many in the world who don't get to eat their fill... I haven't gone hungry for ten years, and I've been able to train sufficiently, so of course I'm different."
"Beonald, even so, you're still ten years old. You don't have to try to become mature so quickly. So, feel free to call us Mom~ Dad~. Later, you won't be able to even if you want to."
Beonald's rapid growth was a bit strange, but still, the family was very harmonious. However, Leon Dustycloak seemed to have some worry, as he couldn't focus on the meal and was just picking at his food. Quick-witted Beonald finished his meal early without asking and got up from the table first.
"Thank you for the meal. Then I'll go up first and continue training. Mom, Dad."
"Okay. Don't overdo it, Beonald."
"Yes~" But Beonald didn't go upstairs; he hid behind the wall and eavesdropped on his parents' conversation. Thinking Beonald had gone upstairs, the two adults' expressions darkened simultaneously. They sighed softly and began talking earnestly about their worries.
"Hoo~ Today, those damn bandits attacked the village again. This is the third time already; fourteen territory residents have been kidnapped."
"Didn't you say you'd increase the defenses?"
"I did. Initially, I told Brother Paul... ahem! No, Paul and Shante to strengthen the village defenses more firmly and enhance the patrols... but somehow they've already breached it three times... Hoo~ I really can't sleep at this rate. What in this small territory could they possibly be after..."
"It's really worrying. Or should we ask Father to lend us some soldiers?"
His mother's maternal family, the Callermain Earldom, was a noble family with some power in this region, and ultimately this rural territory originally belonged to them, so it was a situation worthy of requesting soldiers. However, Leon Dustycloak shook his head and opposed the idea.
"The opponents are bandits. If I ask for help against such scum, what will my evaluation be? Their numbers are at most around twenty."
"But if those twenty... are deserters, remnants, or former knights, it could be different..."
"Anyway, since the situation is serious, I'm thinking of organizing an extermination force to deal with them. Seeing as they're kidnapping people, not just food, they likely have a base nearby. So I wanted to tell you I might not be back for a while..."
The appearance of mountain bandits and robbers was a chronic problem for rural territories like this. It was common for deserters, remnants, or knights who lost their territories in war to become outlaws as bandits or robbers. Wars and conflicts between territories were abundant even during the Unified Empire era. 'Plundered three times by a group of twenty? That's impossible unless you're incredibly incompetent...' From a high noble's perspective, Beonald evaluated his father. While he lacked foundation, he was an earnest, diligent, and responsible man, very suitable as the lord of this small territory. Moreover, since his predecessor was a mercenary, he inherited systematized combat techniques, horsemanship, of course, as well as battle command, fortification construction, etc., military knowledge, making him someone who could sufficiently deal with ragtag soldiers or bandits. 'Even if this territory is small... according to Mother's documents, including the militia formed from the village's able-bodied men, the military force is about sixty. With wooden palisades built and a surveillance system in place, they should be the ones retreating... Then the answer is one.' The enemies weren't strong, it wasn't a problem with the lord's disposition, sufficient measures had been taken, and it wasn't a lack of troops either, so there was only one answer. 'Betrayal from within.' The existence of an informant—a high possibility of a traitor inside. If that weren't the case, it would mean he had misjudged his own father, but there was no element of misjudgment regarding his father, Leon Dustycloak. Anyway, hearing that his father was going on an expedition, Beonald thought there might be a greater threat. 'There's a possibility of an informant... and he goes outside with that person? What if the Baron dies?' This small rural territory would lose its protector and be ravaged by bandits and mountain thieves, with most of the territory residents sold into slavery. '...And then?' Beonald would lose even the minimum value of his noble bloodline and have to start from scratch as a wanderer. He couldn't just watch this situation, so scratching his head, he decided to act.