Chain Quest (3)
Dietrich von Draug. The man who introduced himself as the Eastern Army Commander explained the reason for his ambush in blunt, straightforward terms.
“Been a while since I came up to the capital, so I figured I’d drop by to see the old man. Then I hear he’s chatting with some kids. Blond monocle guy and a brown-haired girl with weapons hanging off every inch of her. Sounded like the same brats who went wild during the last mock drill. So I decided to test you out.”
I stared at him, utterly dumbfounded. “Even if you’re the Eastern Army Commander, isn’t suddenly swinging a sword at people going a bit far?”
He answered with complete nonchalance. “It’s fine, it’s fine. I won’t get dragged off for something like this. Unlike that crazy redhead you people keep around, I at least know the difference between someone I can fuck with and someone I can’t. If you’re that curious, go ahead and report me to the guards.”
Hearing the word “crazy” come out of a madman’s mouth, Professor Istal… just what are you? And that wasn’t even the point we were discussing.
His brazen attitude left me more bewildered than angry. When I glanced at Markram Ekol, he clutched his forehead and let out a long sigh.
“…It’s true. If there had been actual fatalities, maybe not, but the guards will probably just hush this up. Even a guy like him is still one of the military’s top brass.”
“Hey, calling him ‘a guy like him’ is pretty harsh.”
“……Sir Dietrich. Would you please be quiet for a moment? My patience is running dangerously low, and it is taking every ounce of restraint I possess not to hurl abuse at you.”
“Hahaha! That scary old man watching his tongue because of me—this is why power is so damn sweet!”
“Fucking bastard.”
While the two of them traded barbs, I sorted through my thoughts.
Eastern Army Commander was an extremely important title. It wasn’t simply a high rank; the Eastern Army itself formed the core force in the war against the Ivestan Empire. In fact, one of the selectable scenarios let players serve in the Eastern Army, racking up achievements and glory on the front lines. It was a simple “just smash everything you’re told to” story, which made it a favorite among players who used the Nameless War Demon template.
That said, while I knew about the position of Eastern Army Commander, I didn’t know much about the man named Dietrich himself. In the original work, the person sitting in that seat changed frequently. If you steadily progressed through the Eastern Army storyline as the Nameless War Demon or Proud Barbarian, you climbed from bottom-tier soldier all the way to commander. The Heir of Red and Blue Blood route, however, dropped you straight into the position like a parachute. Of course, that version required actual effort to turn the Eastern Army into real subordinates instead of just a title on a figurehead.
Before the protagonist took the seat, the commander was usually a minor NPC or the position was simply vacant. Players could never clearly learn why. By the time the protagonist rose high enough to meet the commander face-to-face, the situation had already reached that point. The only hints came from other characters’ lines—“If the previous commander were here, this defeat would never have happened” or “I have no face left to show that person”—leaving players to guess that the original commander had either stepped down or died under some circumstances.
“Ah, right. You there, brown-hair. What’s your name?”
Ligret frowned slightly, then answered in her usual curt tone. “Ligret.”
“Short on words, huh? Well, whatever. If your skills are good enough, manners are a later problem. Want to come work for the Eastern Army?”
“Already have an employer. Can’t.”
“Oof. Shot down.”
Ligret pointed at me. Dietrich gave an exaggerated shrug, then said, “Then let me rephrase. If I leave a request with the ‘Special Request Division,’ would you accept it?”
The unexpected offer made me ask, “The Eastern Army wants to commission the academy?”
“You’re supposed to be gaining experience by solving incidents across the continent, right? We’ve got more work than we know what to do with.”
From my perspective, it wasn’t a bad proposal. He was an odd man, but his skill and position were both excellent. He didn’t cling to formalities or status, so forming a connection would likely bring more benefits than drawbacks. Above all, I needed to establish at least some contact with the Ivestan Empire—the strongest force among the hidden masterminds.
Still…
“Is that really all right? The academy is quite disliked by the military.”
The recent Southern Army incident had essentially been a power struggle between the military and the academy. Yet now the Eastern Army wanted to call in academy students and assign them work? Was that allowed?
“That was just what happens when guys without the confidence to hold their seats through skill try pulling cheap tricks and get crushed for it. Our Eastern Army doesn’t mind.”
Dietrich added, “Right now it’s just a signboard saying it’s directly under His Majesty, but eventually it’ll become the real thing. We should make full use of it while we still can. Time to get our share of the sweet stuff.”
“……”
He really was insane.
After that, Ligret showed great interest in the greatsword Dietrich carried, and Markram Ekol’s pressure eventually forced Dietrich to generously pay for the door he had destroyed. The whole affair was ultimately resolved without further incident.
Ligret asked, “So? Are we taking the request?”
“That’s not really for us to decide. The academy handles team assignments and quest distribution.”
“Does the academy have any reason to refuse?”
“Who knows.”
There was certainly room for abuse. If clients could specify particular students, it wouldn’t be impossible to manipulate requests or funnel all the merits toward certain people. The existing tensions between the military and the academy only added to the complications.
But that was the academy’s problem to worry about, not ours. Did they really expect us to handle the mountains of paperwork after we finished the actual fieldwork? No. Absolutely not.
“More importantly, since we’re finally outside the academy for once, let’s stop by that place over there.”
“Oh?”
Ligret’s eyes sparkled the moment she saw where I was pointing. This girl really did love weapons.
The forge with the sign Mars Workshop—named directly after its patron—boasted an impressive scale. With an imperial duke backing it, their finances were clearly healthy. The academy’s forge was decent, but compared to this place it might as well have been a broom closet.
“Welcome. What are you looking for today?”
Contrary to the typical image of a smithy, a neatly dressed clerk wearing glasses greeted us politely.
“I’d like to commission a magic tool.”
“I’m sorry, but we’re currently backed up with reservations, so we cannot accept additional requests at this time. However, if you describe the item you’re looking for, I’ll do my best to find something that closely matches your wishes.”
It was an extremely courteous refusal that sounded exactly like a pre-written script. I pulled out the ticket I had received during the festival—it was little more than a scrap of cloth—and showed it to him.
“Would this help?”
The employee examined it briefly, then bowed again. “Yes, that will be fine. Please follow me.”
We were led past displays of various weapons into what appeared to be the workshop area. The intense heat of a furnace washed over us, accompanied by the constant ring of hammering. Eventually we reached a room furnished with several desks and chairs.
There, a man was meticulously processing and assembling components smaller than fingernails using delicate tools. The sight reminded me strongly of a watchmaker.
“Hm? Guests?”
Sensing our presence, the man stopped working and asked the employee, “Magic tool commission. Do you have time?”
“Even if I don’t, I’ll make time. So, what kind of item do you want?”
The man had a stout build and a surprisingly gentle face. He cleared the tiny parts he had been working on to the side and turned to me and Ligret. Artisans were often imagined as cranky or sharp-tempered, but that clearly wasn’t always the case. Customers who came here to commission work were usually people of some status, so rudeness would only hurt business.
If I ran the shop, I would probably keep the skilled but foul-tempered artisans away from clients and simply have them work from order forms.
I reached into Thoth’s Bag and pulled out the blood-stained stake, holding it out.
“I’d like to have this processed into a weapon.”