Chapter 34
Chapter 34
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 34
Chapter Title: Triumph and Reward
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‘Is it okay to be this lucky?’
From atop his saddle, Eugene inwardly tilted his head.
His original plan had been to provoke the castle’s occupants during the prisoner exchange for Robos and Pascal, securing something like a mocking permission: ‘Come in if you dare!’
Then, at night, he would infiltrate the castle, dispatch the seemingly feeble soldiers, and take Baron Bomel or his family hostage.
With all the troublesome knights and mercenaries off on campaign, it would have been easy—too easy.
But he never imagined the heir would take the bait and charge out personally.
“Sir Eugene, what are you thinking so deeply about?”
Lost in thought, Eugene was cautiously addressed by Robos.
The vigorous young knight treated Eugene like a lord, not content with the fact that he had been rescued—he had even single-handedly forced Baron Bomel to surrender.
Having heard of Eugene’s exploits from the newsletter merchant Delduan, Robos had been unable to suppress his surging jealousy and hot-blooded impulse, charging out in a fit. He couldn’t have been more ashamed.
Yesterday’s events had made him fully realize that they weren’t even comparable in the first place.
“It’s nothing. How’s your condition? I heard you were injured.”
“This is nothing. Baron Bomel treated me honorably, so I wasn’t particularly inconvenienced. That said, it might be awkward to mention this now, but…”
Robos glanced at Pascal, who was silently walking alongside the slaves, then continued in a low voice.
“Wouldn’t it have been much better to bring Sir Franz Bomel? The lord would have been far more pleased.”
In short, Franz held far greater value as a prisoner than Pascal. What a waste.
It was a bit annoying, but since Robos was a knight of Viscount Fairchild and treated Eugene with the respect due a benefactor, Eugene answered.
“I did it because it was a hassle.”
“A hassle?”
“From what I heard, neither lord is out for blood—they both seem to want to wrap things up at an acceptable line. And if I had, Baron Bomel would have resented me.”
“Hmm!”
Robos’s eyes widened, and Pascal stepped in.
“Just as Sir Eugene says. If you hadn’t stormed our territory, there wouldn’t have been any issue to begin with. Sir Bomel intended to settle it with a short skirmish or tournament.”
“Ahem.”
His embarrassing black mark brought up, Robos’s face flushed.
“But Sir Eugene taking the heir as a prisoner to Viscount Fairchild? That’s a declaration of all-out war. If it had been their heir captured instead, what do you think Viscount Fairchild would have done?”
“…”
Robos fell silent.
No need to say it—he might have exploded in rage and led the full army out himself.
“Sir Eugene considered all that and closed the matter. Though we’ve crossed blades once, I acknowledge both his valor and his strategy.”
“We haven’t actually crossed blades, though.”
“W-well, it’s just a figure of speech.”
Recalling his own black history, Pascal’s face also grew hot.
“But with the campaigning forces surrounding our castle, how do you plan to get through them?”
“That’s why I brought this.”
“Huh?”
Robos looked behind at where Eugene nodded.
There was a backpack, three large spears, and atop them, the Bomel family banner neatly folded.
* * *
“Why in the world isn’t Viscount Fairchild responding?”
“It’s obvious he’s just stalling for time. Let’s just charge in!”
Knight Polmon raised his voice.
Raviola, who had been listening quietly, then spoke up.
“This time, I agree with Sir Polmon. It’s suspicious no matter how you look at it. We should crush their momentum quickly and make the exchange.”
“Right? Anyway, an outright siege might be a bit much, so let’s provoke them for a few days until they tire, then at dawn…”
“Sirs!”
“What?”
Polmon shot a fierce glare at the mercenary leader who burst into the tent.
“An envoy! An envoy from Baron Bomel has arrived!”
“What are you talking about? Who else is there besides us?”
“W-well, it’s Sir Pascal of Langbon…”
“What!?”
The startled knights rushed out of the tent.
“An envoy from Baron Bomel?”
“That’s what they say. The one holding the banner—isn’t that Sir Pascal?”
“No, wasn’t he taken prisoner?”
Amid the murmuring mercenaries lining the road, the knights watched the group leisurely passing through the center.
The one bearing the Bomel family banner on his spear was unmistakably Langbon steward Sir Pascal.
Behind him rode a knight in black plate armor and the recently captured Robos, each on their own horse. Bringing up the rear were two slaves carrying a large chest.
“Sir Pascal!”
Polmon ran to Pascal, eyes wide.
“What’s going on? Weren’t you a prisoner? Why are you doing this?”
“…The lord’s orders.”
Pascal wanted desperately to reveal the truth right then.
But having already broken his word twice, and knowing another failure might cost him his life, he answered as Eugene had instructed beforehand.
“What message does he send now…”
“Enough! I said it’s the lord’s orders. Do you intend to defy your employer? Step aside!”
“Sir Pascal, explain the situation. We’re here to rescue you. We need to know…”
“The Bomel family banner, and here’s a document stamped with Baron Bomel’s seal. Is more needed?”
At another voice, everyone turned to its owner.
With his visor raised, Eugene cast a cold gaze at the knights and spoke.
“I am Yan of the Eugene family. The territorial war is over. So clear the way.”
“W-what!? What nonsense is that!”
“It’s not nonsense—your employer said so. You’re not thinking of defying Baron Bomel’s orders, are you?”
“…!”
The knights panicked.
For hired knights like them, defying an employer—especially a titled noble—was unthinkable.
If hired knights or mercenaries acted against the lord’s will?
Even if the lord didn’t rage over the damage to his honor and dignity, no noble would ever employ a knight who disobeyed orders afterward.
“And look over there.”
“...?”
The knights, swallowing dryly, naturally followed Eugene’s gesture.
“Gasp!”
Someone gasped in vain.
The firmly shut castle gate had opened, and knights and soldiers were marching in orderly fashion across the drawbridge.
“What do you think happens if Robos and I cut loose right here? They’d launch an immediate attack, and things would get very interesting indeed.”
Meeting their returning gazes, Eugene rested his hand on the shortsword hilt strapped to his saddle belt.
As if waiting, Robos did the same.
“…!”
The three knights flinched.
He was right.
If two mounted knights disregarded their lives and caused chaos, the allied camp would collapse from within.
And if Fairchild forces charged in the midst of it, they’d be caught flat-footed.
You die, I die—even if they survived, unless they fled abroad, their careers as knights were finished for insubordination.
“Then I’ll be off.”
Clop clop!
The horses carrying Eugene and Robos passed the knights. Pascal swallowed once, then hurriedly took the lead.
“…”
In the silence, the hundred or so soldiers could only watch as Eugene’s group leisurely traversed their camp like it was their own home.
* * *
“Sir Eugene!”
Partek’s group was the first to greet Eugene.
“Thank goodness! But what in the world happened? I was on the walls, spotted you, and rushed to report—that’s why we came out…”
“Was that so? Anyway, thanks to you.”
“No, no.”
As Partek shook his head excitedly, Viscount Fairchild’s knights swarmed in.
“Oh! Sir Robos, glad you’re safe! And you must be Sir Eugene? I am…”
“Sirs. Sorry, but I need to report to Viscount Fairchild first.”
“Ah, of course.”
Eugene had not only rescued their captured Robos but also brought Baron Bomel’s nephew as prisoner.
Viscount Fairchild’s knights withdrew their forces back into the castle and personally escorted him.
* * *
“…And so, I obtained this document from Baron Bomel and brought back his nephew, Sir Apiel Bomel Pascal.”
“What valor! Ha! When the newsletter merchant’s words prompted me to send my steward, I was half in doubt. You are a lion crouching in the brush!”
Like Baron Bomel, Viscount Fairchild praised Eugene in the somewhat archaic manner befitting a true noble.
At that moment, a knight who had remained on the walls monitoring Bomel’s forces even after Eugene entered the castle rushed into the hall.
“Viscount Fairchild! Bomel’s forces are withdrawing!”
“Oh! Truly?”
“Yes! Confirmed completely gone beyond visual range. I’ve sent scouts, so you’ll have more details within hours.”
“Excellent, excellent. Hahaha!”
Viscount Fairchild, a dashing man in his early to mid-forties with a refreshing look, let out a hearty laugh befitting his appearance.
Curbing his mirth, he adopted a dignified expression and raised his baton.
“Listen up. Bring out what I prepared to gift Sir Eugene.”
“Yes, my lord!”
Moments later, two castle servants carried in a large chest.
“As promised, silver coins. I’ve added a special bonus, so take note.”
“My thanks for Viscount Fairchild’s generosity.”
“Of course, this isn’t all. Mills.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Dressed in a proper black tailcoat like a noble steward, complete with a monocle over one eye, Mills politely offered Eugene something.
“A letter of recommendation to my father-in-law, Earl Winslow. I’ll send a duplicate immediately, so he’ll soon know of you.”
“My thanks once more.”
Eugene was impressed by Viscount Fairchild’s preparedness.
It seemed Partek and Mills had arranged it the moment they arrived at the castle.
If Eugene succeeded as he had, it showcased the viscount’s generosity; if he failed, just burn it.
‘True nobles are different indeed.’
“Haha! To a knight as honorable and valiant as you, this is the least I can do—my regrets. By the way, my steward said you never intended to receive my commission from the start?”
“Ah, that’s…”
As Eugene pondered an excuse, Viscount Fairchild laughed heartily again.
“Hahaha! A jest. I didn’t mean to fluster you, but seeing such a fearless knight show that side makes you all the more human—and I like it.”
Human, to a vampire.
Thinking this noble had poor judgment for one so genuine, Eugene bowed his head.
“I’m all the more grateful for your regard.”
“Though such a great victory warrants a feast, given the situation, you understand we must refrain. It’s not that I mean to neglect honoring your feats.”
“Of course. Though Baron Bomel is an honorable noble, who knows what twists fate may bring? I’m fine.”
With his goal achieved, Eugene—eager to return to Maren as soon as possible—responded promptly.
“Ha! A valiant knight who won alone, and so profoundly thoughtful too. Yan of the Eugene family—I am greatly impressed.”
Viscount Fairchild nodded repeatedly with a kindly face unique in the world, as if genuinely taken with Eugene.
But his mind raced.
‘Tempting, but I can’t take him in. Making him a territory knight would irk Bomel for sure.’
The territorial war had arisen by chance, but Baron Bomel was to be his in-law.
Showing some consideration would spare the man’s feelings and elevate Fairchild’s own honor.
‘Still, to maintain dignity, I need something better… Ah, right!’
After a brief deliberation, Viscount Fairchild’s eyes gleamed.
“Listen! Bring a sword!”
“Yes? My lord, which sword…”
“What other sword could I mean?”
“Ah… yes!”
Mills hesitated, then swiftly departed.
“You’ll like this one.”
Viscount Fairchild smiled faintly.
Moments later, Mills carefully brought a shortsword in a jet-black scabbard, cradling it in both hands.
“Yan of the Eugene family.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Standing with lordly dignity, Viscount Fairchild took the sword from Mills and presented it to Eugene.
“This sword is called ‘Wolfslayer.’ Given by my father-in-law with my bride’s dowry at our wedding, it’s the beloved blade of Sir Belgrin Entailer—one of the famed knights who brought glory to the Winslow earl’s crest.”
‘That old codger father-in-law hated parting with this when he gave it. Anyway, I get to grandstand big to this lad. If the old man truly knights him, it’s like returning it—so he’ll thank me too.’
With a face dripping affection and dignity, betraying none of his calculating thoughts, Viscount Fairchild said,
“From this moment, you are Wolfslayer’s master.”
(To be continued in the next installment)