Chapter 170
Chapter 170
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 170
Chapter Title: 3 Minutes 18 Seconds 27
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Three hundred years ago. Gi-yeol's Gorge.
When the demons poured through the gate to the demon world that opened here, humanity no longer fell into despair.
Compared to the early days of the war, when there was no central figure, it was like night and day.
The Midgard Alliance.
Elves. Dwarves. Fairies. Lizardmen. Dryads. Among the intelligent monsters capable of speech, all the races that rose alongside humans to defend Midgard held weapons in their hands.
The enemy forces visible before them numbered in the tens of thousands, but the Midgard Alliance was no less formidable. There might have been those who felt fear, but not a single one drowned in despair.
The vanguard of the Midgard Alliance.
A place on the battlefield where a single misstep could mean death, where one had to stake their life just to stand.
Here, where only the strongest gathered, stood the heroes of each race.
The soldiers at the rear steeled their resolve by gazing at the heroes' backs.
However, even those heroes, the spiritual pillars of that army of hundreds of thousands, all turned their eyes to one spot.
Hark von Loengrin. The greatest hero.
A benevolent man who simply smiled cheerfully, even in the face of the tens of thousands of enemies before him.
Who could tremble in fear, drop their weapon, or flee before the enemy with matchless audacity to stand at the forefront and laugh, no matter how impossible the odds?
One of the comrades permitted to stand beside that man.
The red wolf, not human yet a friend whose heart transcended species, strode up beside the spirited first emperor and grinned.
"Still as full of vigor as ever, eh, Hark?"
"What of it? Fear changes nothing."
"...Hah. Not just putting on a show because there's something behind you to protect?"
"Whether there's someone at my back or not, I simply walk my path."
That's right. He was that kind of man.
The red-maned wolf shook his mane once and laughed along.
Even if there were billions of enemies, this man would not change his way of life.
Perhaps because of that, his unwavering attitude had created countless enemies, but it had also drawn in comrades beyond measure.
His overflowing affection had sometimes sparked massive conflicts, but in the end, even that worked out for the best. No one could predict where this man's path would lead.
And so, a sudden unease crept in.
"...I wonder what would become of this Midgard without you."
"It's fine. I can leave it to my descendants. I'm even thinking of establishing an educational institution for them."
"Hey. Don't you know talents and aptitudes vary greatly?"
"I trust in my lineage's talents. At least one or two per generation are born with exceptional gifts."
"Is that so."
The small talk ended there, and the battle soon began.
"......I had a nostalgic dream."
Deep in the night.
Recalling a comrade long gone, Patrasche shook his head in the house prepared for him.
Memories of a battlefield he could no longer return to.
As dreams often are, they were vivid right after waking but faded toward the edges of memory. Yet Patrasche managed to etch one line of conversation with his old friend into his mind, holding onto it for quite a while.
'At least one per generation of my descendants is born with exceptional aptitude.'
If that man had said it, then it must be true... and in this generation, no one could deny it was the mana-rich heir, Eve von Loengrin.
However.
That raised one question.
"Then what the hell is that guy's talent...?"
His own master, snoring away in that room right now.
What talent had Wolfram von Loengrin been born with?
If it was something reminiscent of Hark, what could it be?
"...No way."
Patrasche shook his head.
No way it's that kind of talent, right?
I woke up in the morning to find Patrasche there.
Soon it was time to don my custom-tailored suit and hat, sit in the driver's seat of the Black King Tiger, and propel it with mana.
In other words, this was a serious breach of contract and dereliction of duty.
I wasn't paying him by the hour or anything, but still, freeloading wasn't tolerated.
"What is it? Planning to skip driving the Black King Tiger today?"
"Nah. I just want to observe my master for the day."
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing much. I've got some things I want to figure out... Just go about your day without worrying about me."
"...Alright."
I had no idea what was up, but he seemed dead serious, so I'd leave him be.
"Master. What do you plan to start with today?"
"Let's see... It's been a while, so how about starting the day with some cart vending."
Not that I could blame myself. Not long ago, a terrifying customer showed up in the dead of night demanding soup—what the hell was that?
After that day, I'd rediscovered the preciousness of everyday life. Life is so warm and cozy. Gotta be grateful for today.
"Understood. I'll prepare."
"Mm."
That day.
Patrasche meticulously recorded his master's actions.
First, at six in the morning. The master pulled out his cart and approached the graduate students—kids radiating the mana pattern of despair—offering them warm soup and food.
"...Th-thank you... Your Highness..."
"I'm just an undergrad senior. Except for Eve, aren't all students at Jefrin equal in rank?"
"...S-sob... Y-yes..."
The graduate student—black hair in a single ponytail tied up high with large horn-rimmed glasses, hollow eyes... By human aesthetic standards, undeniably a beauty—teared up at the soup and meal he offered.
Patrasche, who had walked the battlefields with Hark, knew well how rigid and fearsome human hierarchies could be. Back then, during wartime, the chain of command was absolute, and disobedience could mean summary execution depending on the circumstances.
Of course, applying that era directly had its flaws, but for Hark's descendant to be this considerate to a commoner, it was undeniably exceptional.
"It's... so warm."
"If something's troubling you, I'm here to listen."
"Pardon?"
"Well, isn't it customer service for someone buying you a meal to lend an ear until you're done eating? Got something on your mind?"
"...I, um..."
"If you don't want to talk, or don't even have the energy, just lean on the warmth of that soup and rest."
"......Y-yes."
Watching him casually slip in that follow-up, Patrasche rolled his eyes.
For real?
In 5 minutes?
Is he nuts?
But it didn't end there.
Next, he set up a street stall at the freshman commons.
"Whoa! Senpai! Hi! One sandwich for us!"
"Me too!"
"Plenty to go around. Order slowly."
Gazing at the vibrant young souls full of energy, the master smiled lightly as he wrapped and handed out sandwiches one by one.
The freshmen received theirs carefully with both hands, and one girl asked him.
"Senpai! Why are these sandwiches so cheap?"
"Cheap?"
"Yeah! 3,000 rin each... They're so delicious, you could charge more, right?"
"...Hey, don't jinx it!"
"Ah...... H-ha, pretend you didn't hear that, senpai?"
"Still, they are pretty cheap."
"Right?"
The other freshmen shot her glances for the slip-up but twinkled with curiosity.
"To cut to the chase... Even including my labor, there's plenty of profit."
"Ah, then you could charge more? Business is about profit, yeah?"
She seemed like a merchant's daughter. Tilting her head, she asked, and the master shrugged.
"This isn't about short-term gains. It's long-term thinking."
"...Huh?"
"Jefrin is harsh, and graduating is no easy feat. Amid that, the meals provided to you aren't exactly appealing, right? Knight Division gets black bread and water, or watery soup at best, so you have to fend for yourselves."
"Yeah..."
"If my stall offers decent meals at these prices, they won't be able to escape the warmth and taste. Right? It's not short-term—it's securing customers for the next four years. A place that's always warm, cheap, and filling. Irresistible, no?"
"......Wow."
"Come by often for the next four years. Oh, I added half extra to each. You're at that hungry age."
"Y-yes...!"
With that, the girls left with flushed faces.
Patrasche timed it precisely from handover to final words: 3 minutes 18 seconds 27.
For real.
He's insane.
And after that, the master's—Wolfram's—actions were staggering.
"Aila. Your lunch."
"Yay! What's on the menu today?"
"The usual meatballs and sandwich, but want something else?"
"Anything Wolfram makes is great! ...Oh, and Wolfram."
"I know. Take that sandwich to Regina Cielra."
"Got it! This'll recharge me for midterms—gonna crush it! Thanks, Wolfram!"
He met his fiancée.
"Ah! Senpai! What brings you here?"
"Heard you were working nearby, so I stopped by. Enjoying the job?"
"Yes! Thanks for coming!"
"Mm. Brought some drinks. Good for stamina."
"...Ehehe. Thank you. I should prioritize Royal Guard duties, but..."
"Focus on learning and growing now. We'll have plenty of time after graduation."
"......Y-yes!!"
He visited a Royal Guard junior.
"Oh, Wolfram! Long time no see!"
"Mm. Rudika. Can you help with something?"
"Of course! Rudika Hassan Shadow can do anything for Wolfram!"
"Tried coating the sweet-and-sour chicken from last time in super spicy sauce... And deep-fried some cheese. Wanna try?"
"You bet! For my Wolfram!"
He experimented with cooking alongside the petite girl.
"Senpai? What brings you to the freshman dorms? It's not your shift today."
"Milmyu. Came to see you."
"Me? M-me?"
"Just checking if work's been okay lately."
"...Oh, that's why... Yeah, no issues. Every day's fun. I wanted to work today too, but you said three days off a week mandatory."
"Hmph. Rest as much as you work. Health first."
"Y-yes..."
He checked on a junior under his wing, listening to her work woes.
And that wasn't all. He met Filtia Bluebreeze, descendant of the blue dragon he'd fought with; cooked with Princess Emily Highmelody; chatted with Eve von Loengrin; bantered with Sylphia; gossiped with Milmyu's friends...
Even...
"That's the full report, my lord."
"I see. The Black Flag's 【Great Uprising】 is proceeding as planned. Good work, Erhel."
"...Y-yes!"
...He kept a demon woman by his side, receiving her report.
Wolfram von Loengrin met a total of 21 people that day.
For a merchant, it might seem few... but the skewed gender ratio was staggering.
And then he remembered.
What talent Hark von Loengrin possessed.
A talent that couldn't be quantified numerically, yet could be counted in numbers.
Days when he had to endure axes, saws, longswords, ice magic, and breaths every single day.
"Master. I admit it. You truly are Hark's descendant."
"......What're you talking about?"
Walking right beside him, Patrasche looked up at the man's face.
May his path stretch long and unbroken.
Patrasche prayed to El Pirane, his queen, deep in that fairy forest.