Chapter 167
Chapter 167
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 167
Chapter Title: The Cost of Mercy
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“No, what in the world happened here?”
“Ha! This is rich. The ancestors must be weeping.”
When the heir to Fransil—who’d supposedly been taken hostage—and Galpredic, who’d gone to rescue him, showed up having captured the king of Brodin as well, everyone’s faces turned utterly dumbfounded.
“Uhahaha! Well, about that...”
Galpredic burst into laughter as he recounted the events of the previous night. The listeners couldn’t help but marvel amid their disbelief.
“Prince Eugene Valtara truly is a knight blessed by the gods.”
As Edmund made the sign of the cross, Prabout and Ulfgang shook their heads in wry amusement.
“Not just your god—the spirits of Brantia must be watching over the Duke as well. Heh heh...”
“They say the luckiest bastard falls backward and lands on a hunk of meat. Who’d have thought something this absurd could happen?”
“Who knows? Anyway, Lanslo. The master and I have cleaned everything up, so send the troops in to keep the civilians in line.”
“Got it.”
At Lanslo’s order, Partek and the century captains led their forces to spread across Brodin.
* * *
Eugene and Galpredic had moved so swiftly and decisively in capturing the king and his top brass that there was virtually no resistance or backlash from the civilians.
Far from it—an bizarre situation unfolded instead.
Virtually every resident of Brodin welcomed Eugene’s fully armed foreign troops.
“Knight, sir! Noble knights! Please, give us something to eat!”
“My child hasn’t eaten in two days. Please, share anything. I beg you, sirs!”
Mistaking the properly equipped mercenaries for knights—unlike Brodia’s own ragged soldiers—the civilians clung to their arms and legs, pleading desperately.
No translator was needed; the mercenaries could guess their plight from the gaunt, desperate faces of men, women, and children alike.
“Uh... what do we do? Hey, got any food on you?”
“I’ve got some emergency rations.”
As the mercenaries pondered, Partek bellowed.
“Hey! Gather up all the emergency rations first! Some of these folks won’t last a few more days!”
“On it!”
At the century captain Partek’s command, the mercenaries promptly pulled jerky, hardtack, and the like from the small packs at their waists without hesitation.
“F-food! Food!”
“Me first! Over here! Give it to us first!”
The civilians swarmed like starving dogs at the sight.
“Everyone, stop! Line up! Get in line!”
“Food! More! Line up!”
When Glad and Raban glared and shouted in broken Brantian, the frightened residents finally shuffled into a crooked but orderly queue.
“Uh, but Partek, bro. Is it really okay for us to do this on our own?”
“Won’t His Highness the Duke say something?”
As the two voiced their concerns, Partek grinned.
“Say something? He’ll probably praise us for it.”
The best way for an invading foreign army to win acclaim from locals rather than resentment was to hand out food or coin.
Moreover, judging by Eugene’s actions so far, he wouldn’t balk at a few coins to secure a city taken without spilling a drop of blood.
That was Partek’s confident assessment—utterly unaware that Duke Eugene was already deeply disappointed with the near-bankrupt royal family.
“I’m heading to Sir Edmund. You two keep the kids in check here.”
“Yes, sir. Safe travels.”
Relief efforts would be best left to the holy knight, so Partek hurried off.
* * *
“Nothing?”
“Kie... none.”
“Damn it.”
“Jeeenjaang!”
Eugene and Mirian spat curses almost in unison.
The moment he and Galpredic had subdued Brodia’s leadership, Eugene had scoured the castle high and low for valuables.
Yet even with the greed spirit—nicknamed the ‘golden nose’ for its knack at sniffing out treasure like water—there was zero haul.
Cameron III hadn’t lied. The Brodia royal family wasn’t just hiding assets; they were truly on the brink of bankruptcy.
All they had were a few worn-out old suits of armor, statues, and portraits worth pennies if sold.
“Kiet! What kinda castle is this? Total joke! Kieee~ Master, we gotta at least confiscate that king punk’s crown!”
“Hmm...”
For a split second, Eugene felt an intense temptation he hadn’t anticipated.
‘Whoa! What am I thinking?’
He shook his head sharply, banishing the overreaching greed from his mind.
“You’re persistent, you know that? Cut the nonsense and sweep the inner keep one more time. Just in case.”
“Got it! This body’ll find even a scrap of silver! Even a gold crumb, you’ll see!”
The desire spirit, refusing to give up, flew off in a huff with fiery determination.
‘Tch. At least the nobles have some wealth. Small mercies.’
Eugene clicked his tongue and slumped onto a dais.
“Eek!”
The handful of slaves present hugged the walls, not daring to lift their heads. They feared the vampire duke who’d seized the castle overnight.
‘Maybe sell these guys off?’
As he nursed his regrets, Lanslo and the knights poured into the throne room.
“Your Highness the Duke!”
“Yeah.”
The knights approached warmly, but their faces fell into puzzlement at Eugene’s expression. For someone who’d achieved such an impossible feat single-handedly, he didn’t look pleased.
“Has something happened?”
“Less worry, more disappointment.”
“Disappointment...?”
“See, the thing is...”
Eugene explained the royal family’s finances as told by Cameron III, and how he’d personally ransacked every corner of the castle just to be sure.
“...So we’ll use whatever we squeeze from the nobles to pay the troops’ wages. Nothing left over.”
“Ah...”
The knights’ faces twisted into awkward half-smiles, half-grimaces.
The conquering commander-in-chief and a duke, no less, had wandered the castle hunting gold and jewels with a money-mad spirit in tow.
“Khup! Cough! Cough!”
Lanslo hacked away as if choked, while the others exchanged awkward glances, too polite to laugh outright.
It was ridiculous, but Eugene—as army head and Brodin’s top hero—had every right to feel cheated.
“Your Highness the Duke.”
“Zuenha!”
At that moment, Holy Knight Edmund and chief merchant Od entered through the wide-open throne room doors.
“What?”
Some had conquered a kingdom only to face deficits, but this merchant was raking in gold daily. Seeing Od’s plump, beaming face irked Eugene, who snapped curtly.
“We’ve secured the city’s key areas and brought the civilians under control as ordered. But there’s one matter to report.”
“Yeah? What is it?”
With Eugene’s permission, Edmund spoke carefully.
“Reports indicate many residents are in danger from prolonged malnutrition. Upon inspection, a significant number have been starving for quite some time.”
“And?”
A bad premonition stirred.
“We’ve distributed the troops’ emergency rations as a stopgap, but it’s not even enough for one meal per person. Thus, I humbly suggest extending food aid to Brodin’s poor residents, showcasing Your Highness’s boundless mercy.”
“......”
The holy knight—born in the Empire, naturalized in Keiler Kingdom—chose to speak in Brantia now, of all times.
“Oh ho! An excellent idea. That way, the locals will see Your Highness and your army not as invaders, but saviors. Essential for anyone eyeing the throne, wouldn’t you say, Your Highness?”
“I agree with Sir Edmund. The people are blameless and harbor no enmity toward Your Highness.”
Proving the ominous feeling right, Prabout and Lanslo chimed in support immediately.
“......Then what about our troops? Won’t we run short?”
Even so, Eugene clung to faint hope.
“Heh heh! I’ve prepared rations for the men to last over a fortnight for just such occasions. And with your order, I can procure enough food for all of Brodin’s residents within four days, zuenha~.”
Od bowed obsequiously, as if he’d been waiting.
As a vampire, starvation wasn’t a concern, but Eugene’s head throbbed anyway.
“So... how much?”
“Shall I prepare for a few months?”
“One month?”
“That might fall a bit short, Your Highness. Wouldn’t two months be more prudent?”
“......Then, two months?”
“16,000 Keiler silver coins.”
“Quick answer. You calculated it in advance?”
“Oh dear, no! Simple arithmetic is my only talent, zuenha~.”
16,000 silver coins.
Enough to hire two or three skilled mercenary companies for a full year. Eugene sighed despite himself.
But then—
“Dark Lord! Dark Lord!”
This time, Ulfgang and the Beowulf warriors came rushing in, breathless.
“What now? Did you idiots cause some incident?”
Eugene shot the Beowulf warriors a gaze cold enough to chill the air; he absolutely refused more deficits.
“Good grief, nothing like that. The Fransil family troops have reached the other side of the Medeo River. They’ve probably crossed by now.”
“Hmm?”
Eugene narrowed his eyes at the unexpected news.
The Medeo River marked the border splitting Brodia’s royal lands. Their arrival there meant...
“The Fransil forces must’ve routed the Brodia army. Stronger than expected.”
At Lanslo’s words, Eugene turned to Ulfgang.
“Fransil troops—numbers?”
“About 400? Mostly mercenary infantry, with around 50 cavalry. All knights, looked like.”
“Probably are. The eldest son said as much.”
Eugene had gleaned info on the Fransil forces from Leoma during the march to Brodin.
Leoma had chattered endlessly about his house to curry favor, even without being asked.
“But Dark Lord, those guys looked rough.”
“Yeah. Like they’d fought hard and marched straight through without rest? Plenty bandaged from sword wounds.”
“Sword cuts heal quick with meat.”
“Ah, meat sounds good.”
As the scouting Beowulf warriors veered toward their usual food tangent, Eugene cut them off swiftly.
“What about the Brodia troops?”
“Didn’t see ’em. Probably smashed and scattered. The ones we saw marching out were all weaklings who couldn’t kill a single goblin.”
“Yeah, their gear was a mess too.”
“Hmm.”
Eugene figured the Beowulf warriors were spot-on. If the royal vassals were that pathetic, the rank-and-file were a given.
‘Hm?’
Then, a brilliant idea flashed through Eugene’s mind.
“Cameron—where is he? Someone fetch him.”
“Cameron? Why call the Brodia king?”
“Might turn this deficit into a profit.”
“......?”
As everyone blinked in confusion, only Eugene—who turned razor-sharp on such matters—grinned.
(To be continued)