Chapter 36
Chapter 36
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 36
Chapter Title: Descendants of Papna (1)
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The duel was fierce. But it was utterly one-sided.
Even though Rubia had kindly lent him her Axe of Fury, no weapon could bridge that gap. Dragon Words merely made his body move on autopilot—they hadn't transformed him into someone with exceptional physical prowess.
Every time the knight's attacks opened new wounds, Reggie gritted his teeth and endured. His muscles screamed like a deflating balloon, writhing in agony. Yet he never stopped swinging that axe. Sparks flew.
"Oh my."
"He's going to get himself killed...!"
The noble ladies' eyes sparkled with dopamine-fueled excitement from the fight. Alhena, however, who truly didn't enjoy watching duels, hid her face behind her fan.
I, on the other hand, watched the battle without missing a beat. Every time Reggie's runes glowed, his presence grew hazy. His movements were unpredictable—he'd vanish into the shadows in an instant, only to reappear just as suddenly.
It felt like a different path from magic or runes. That must have been the power of the god they worshipped.
Ishkar was the god of war. Foreign gods each had symbols defining their essence. Papna, worshipped by Papna's descendants, was the god of curtains and veils.
Even after losing their lands, they'd resisted the Paron family for over a century by hiding away. It was because they excelled at all forms of concealment.
On the flip side, they were somewhat inept at assaulting castles or large-scale pitched battles. Duels were no different.
The match ended. Reggie lost.
"Hah, huff...! Cough, you stubborn bastard...!"
—Clap clap clap clap!
Cheers and applause rained down on the knight as he pressed his sword to the fallen barbarian's throat. The axe lay flung aside, blood trickling from his forehead. But Reggie laughed, satisfied at having poured everything into it. That only enraged his opponent further.
"Is it over?"
"It's over."
"That's enough. You wouldn't dream of disposing of our trading company's assets on a whim, would you~?"
"Ahem, of course not."
Before he could take Reggie's life, Alhena stepped in. Though victorious, the knight's unexpectedly even fight had left Count Nort visibly displeased. Still, he ordered his knight to stand down. Angering the daughter of the Minister of Finance could strangle Paron's commerce.
I approached the fallen Reggie, retrieved the axe embedded in the wall, and extended a hand to help him up.
"Satisfied?"
"Thanks."
"Hey, you."
Then the knight who'd beaten him picked a fight with me.
"Hah, you're next. Come on."
"Didn't your master tell you to stop? And you look exhausted."
Was he still fuming from struggling against a barbarian in front of the ladies? He could barely catch his breath.
Ignoring Reggie's worried gaze, I stepped in front of him. Contrary to the prejudices of many, a civilized—no, modern—man like me wasn't swayed by such crude provocations. I asked the knight, who had assumed a stance ready to draw his sword at any moment.
"You want to fight me?"
"Yeah."
"No regrets?"
"Regrets? Don't make me laugh. On my honor as a knight, it'll take less than a minute to put down trash like you... Kkhyuuuk!"
If it was an honorable duel, no choice. I'd had no intention of fighting, but my hand—no, my foot—moved on its own. It was a technique Wagner had taught me. One front kick aimed between his legs sent his body floating about 70 centimeters off the ground.
"Gah, urk, hrrk!"
By the time he hit the ground again, he waddled like a newborn fawn.
And that was it. The duel ended. So did his manhood.
I'd worried the spectators might be too shocked to buy slaves, but it was unfounded. He'd lost not to superior skill, but to an unimaginable sneak attack.
As his subordinate was carried off on a stretcher, Nort shot Alhena a sharp warning glare.
"Lady Golden Lotus."
"Yes~?"
"Don't harbor any illusions about forming normal relations with barbarians. As you saw, they're beasts through and through—even in their heads."
He hadn't ruined the party as planned, but he wouldn't back down either. True to his reputation as a master of worldly affairs—who wouldn't bleed even if pricked—Alhena saw him off with a smiling face.
"Our relations are already far from normal~."
Once the commotion settled, we headed back to the lodgings attached to the trading company where we'd be staying temporarily.
Reggie, having changed his mind, was now far more belligerent than before. Riding in the carriage with his comrades, he spoke of me, convincing them it was time to fight again.
"We've been dragged around by their rules all this time. But look at that plains tribe—if we trust and follow him, we can reclaim our freedom."
"Is that true?"
"Yeah. Start by targeting vitals in fights. Crush them so thoroughly they never dare challenge us to a duel at a party again."
"Got it. I'll trust you, Reggie."
He was teaching a fighting style utterly different from what I'd intended. Still, uniting Papna's descendants within the Empire was achievement enough.
Their opinions needed to align for smooth migration to the plains.
Late that night, with permission to roam freely within the building, I visited Alhena's office.
She was sorting vouchers. Business had picked up as nobles began seriously buying Papna's descendants.
"What brings you here?"
"I have something for you. Take it."
I handed her a black envelope stamped with a golden seal. It was the invitation to the Night of Falling Blossoms I'd gotten from Rubia earlier.
As a banquet hosted by the Ministry of Justice, an invitation was required to attend the meeting. She might have obtained one without my help, but this would smooth things over.
"Thank you kindly~."
Alhena accepted it naturally. No guards around. Unlike our first meeting, when she'd stationed a bunch of adventurers, her wariness toward me had eased.
My eyes drifted to the documents on her desk. A list of Papna's descendants up for auction, with their personal details.
"Enough numbers?"
"From what we've identified so far."
"He didn't seem like the type to back down."
"No, he didn't."
Overwhelming capital and connections. Against someone like Alhena—practically a powerhouse in the capital—Nort had issued a final warning.
That confidence wasn't empty bluster. Even without bidding at auction, he had ways to secure more slaves.
"It's war~."
He planned to capture Papna's descendants hiding in the mountains. Surrounded by Paron's walls, they had nowhere to run.
Their forces were overwhelmingly outmatched. They weren't weak if other slaves followed Reggie's lead so readily, yet even one couldn't beat a knight properly.
"Even if it means some casualties, he wants to secure voting rights for sure? I can't buy every slave, after all~."
As Reggie had said at our first meeting, Papna's descendants fetched high prices. A natural market phenomenon from demand.
From Nort's view, inflating prices with a bit of spending increased Alhena's burden. While he could capture prisoners for free in war, she'd hit a limit eventually.
But he'd overlooked one thing. Me—the one bankrolling all this for her.
"Some casualties, huh..."
"Oh? Were you smiling just now~?"
Our eyes met as she looked up.
Probably. We were thinking the same thing.
"You're smiling too."
"It's my natural face~."
Against someone willing to accept losses, just inflict unacceptable ones. We were similar enough that we'd both thought of it.
We both hated taking one-sided hits more than death. And we'd do anything to get what we wanted.
Of course, that didn't put us on the same level as her—someone who'd imprisoned her little sister, tried to kill her multiple times, sent her north on a near-suicide mission with assassins she'd hired, and after that failed, planned to burn the gold and treasures the Emperor had given her to ensure she could never recover.
Not with a great warlord like me, fair to all, always respecting opponents even in duels.
But we shared just a tiny bit in common.
Alhena hummed cheerfully and showed me her usable cards: blocking supplies around Paron to disrupt logistics, diplomatic pressure via nobles, and the like.
Unlike Rubia or Serath, she had no real military might beyond hiring adventurers, so these fit her. They'd be effective enough, but Nort might have prepared countermeasures.
"Hm..."
"Not to your liking?"
"There's a better way."
I pulled a pea-sized lens case from my pocket.
"I hear the Schmidt Company specializes in slave trading."
"I know that much~."
"The wagons they used on the plains were modified from their originals. Thanks to that, they brought me here without much hassle."
"No way...?"
Empire folk can't tell barbarians apart. Slap on some runes, pop this in, and they'd look the spitting image of Papna's descendants.
—The warriors are ready. Call if needed.
I recalled Harald's words before we parted. The plains barbarians who'd routed the 9th Legion's elites would gather in Paron's territory this winter.