The Plan
Joseph found himself turning over a problem that had been nagging at him for some time.
I need to map out what comes next.
Once he finished the commission that would take him as far as Malešov, he would have no further business in Valois Territory. Unless something extraordinary happened, he would not be coming back. He had amassed a fortune in his wagon that would put most men to shame, and as a mage, he did not consider his abilities lacking.
Ever since he had set foot in Valois Castle, one incident after another had swept him along — but now he wanted to reclaim his original purpose. A peaceful, unhurried life. The greatest degree of indolence a modern man could enjoy. Stretching out somewhere cool when the weather turned hot; sipping warm tea in a snug, well-heated room when it turned cold. Eating as much good food as he pleased, without ever having to worry about getting hurt — the life of a man of standing.
It was about time he started moving toward that again. Which meant he needed to settle on a destination.
A major city... I'm not so sure about that.
Barely a month or two ago, Joseph had been staying in Valois Castle itself — the inner fortress, no less. He understood perfectly well that the living conditions there had been overwhelmingly good. But that had only been possible because a set of extraordinary circumstances had overlapped. They had been at war, short on manpower, and had happened to ask a passing mage — Joseph — for help.
Could he carve out a similar position in some other castle now?
Doubtful...
He had a measure of ability and a growing fortune, but he had no faction of his own. The closest thing he could call a personal force was three private soldiers who had barely taken their first steps. And even they were not yet people he could fully trust. Trying to establish himself in a castle with three clumsy retainers? The local power brokers would chew him up in their political games and split his skull open before he knew what hit him. Looking back, even in Valois Castle, Zalier had come after him, hadn't he?
If luck isn't on my side, I might end up scraping by in some corner of an outer bailey.
He wouldn't starve — he was a mage, after all — but that was not the life Joseph wanted.
Joseph stepped outside and swept his gaze across Doran Village. It was not a large place, but it looked rather peaceful.
If this weren't Valois Territory, it might have been a decent option.
A man of standing in a reasonably prosperous country village. As a realistic first goal, that didn't seem half bad. If he could build a faction there, then — and only then — he might be able to move to a larger castle.
Or I could just live there. That'd be fine too.
First, though, it would be wise to find out what the southern reaches of Valois Territory were like. He asked Refn, who rummaged through his memory for a moment before speaking.
"If you head south through the territory, you'll come to the Favidia Region, I believe."
That was the final destination for Joseph and the soldiers — a territory that lay a little farther south of Malešov. A small fief ruled by Viscount Favidea, and from the sound of it, a land with nothing particularly noteworthy about it. The territory was so small that, conversely, nobody paid it any attention — a peculiar place, in that sense.
"I wouldn't swear to it. All I have is what I've heard."
Refn gave an awkward smile, as if he weren't entirely confident. He had been born and raised in Valois Territory and become a castle soldier. He had never left the territory itself, so whatever he knew of the Favidia Region was rumor at best.
But Joseph's ears perked up at what he heard.
A quiet place that nobody pays any mind to?
It aligned reasonably well with the conditions he had been considering. The fact that it bordered war-torn Valois Territory was a little concerning, but the fighting was taking place at the far northern edge. Valois Territory was not a small place, so the distance was considerable. He didn't think he would get swept up in anything unnecessary. It felt like a suitable place to settle quietly and slowly, steadily grow his power.
"If you're heading south, the Danoa Region isn't far either, is it?"
While Joseph was turning this over, another of the soldiers spoke up.
Danoa?
Joseph rummaged through his memory at the name, which sounded vaguely familiar. Then he remembered where he had heard it. Ogier de Danoa. It was Ogier's family name. His father had been granted a title and land by Count Valois, hadn't he? From the sound of it, the place wasn't far from the Favidia Region.
Doesn't that make it even better?
Whatever doubts Joseph had about the man himself, Ogier was unmistakably a noble — a man of standing who governed land in a neighboring region. And Joseph had a connection to him. That fact would surely help him establish himself in the area. Ordinary people would cling to a noble connection by any means they could.
The problem is that he isn't actually in his territory right now.
Not bad. Not bad at all. If things went well, it might not take all that long to build up his strength. The thought brought a smile to his lips.
Deep in the mountains west of Valois Territory. The place where, in the past, a wagon belonging to the now-vanished Roph Merchant Guild had been attacked. The place where a certain mage had laid his hands on a remarkable artifact.
And now, a group of men were scattered across the site, searching it. They all wore shabby clothes with nothing but a single sword at the hip, so at a glance they looked like a simple band of brigands. Anyone with a measure of martial experience, however, would have noticed that they were trained soldiers.
"Find anything?"
Among them, a man of particularly imposing build stood as straight as a pillar, watching the search. His name was Manir — a knight of Count Poner, currently at war with Count Valois.
"Nothing of note. It seems the man was telling the truth."
A soldier answered, and Manir's gaze turned behind him. There, a mercenary beaten to a bloody pulp was kneeling. Marf — the captain of the mercenary company that had once hunted an ogre alongside a certain young mage.
The moment his eyes met the knight's, Marf hurriedly looked away. He was trying his best not to look tense, but his body trembled of its own accord. He had seen the terrifying martial prowess of Manir's retainers. The mercenaries hadn't even managed to swing their swords properly. There hadn't been time to react. He and the others had all eaten their share of meals earned by the blade — but before properly trained soldiers, they had done nothing but scream as their heads came off, every last one of them. It had been enough to turn even a seasoned mercenary into a child facing a natural disaster.
"Who did you say he was?"
At Manir's words, Marf hurriedly opened his mouth.
"A-a young mage named Joseph. He was the mage attached to the Roph Merchant Guild."
He spilled everything as if he had been waiting for the chance. They had killed a demonic beast together, true enough — but that didn't mean they had the kind of bond or loyalty that would make him risk his own life to protect the man.
"Hmph..."
Manir's brow furrowed slightly. If what the man said was true, this was no simple matter.
This is bad. Very bad.
There was a reason a knight of Manir's standing had come all this way in the middle of a territorial war, a situation already urgent enough. A precious artifact that restored mana. Originally, that item had been meant for Count Poner — and for the Fire Mage in his service.
Count Valois was no easy opponent. The many knights under his command saw to that. Count Poner had committed the Fire Mage to the fighting, but even that had not been enough — something decisive was still missing.
This war has dragged on far too long.
The fighting stretched on without end. And because of it, Pon-Er Territory was being neglected as badly as Valois Territory — no, worse. The Fire Mage was formidable, without question, but that formidable power consumed mana at a staggering rate. That was why they had spent a fortune to acquire an artifact that restored it.
Who could have guessed a merchant wagon would get hit by an ogre.
An ogre was a catastrophe to humankind. That crushing physical power would have been more than the men could handle. And so the wagon's complement, escorts and all, had been wiped out to a man.
Fuck.
He had come to recover it, and the thing was gone. Some mage he had never even heard of had popped out of nowhere, taken it, and vanished. On top of that, he had no idea where the bastard even was. How was he supposed to not be furious?
This is going sideways.
He had already slipped into enemy territory — Valois Territory itself. He had even disguised himself as a brigand or a mercenary company and pushed south as fast as he could. Honor as a noble, dignity as a knight — he had thrown it all away.
Manir ground his teeth, a harsh scrape of enamel, as irritation boiled up inside him.
"Everyone, gather."
At his word, the scattered men rapidly assembled before him. Discipline was drilled into them; they stood with their backs straight and grim faces, waiting for Manir to speak. He ground his teeth and spoke slowly.
The soldier who had been ill recovered. With eyes full of emotion, he thanked Joseph again and again. At the same time, his guilt over delaying their work was written plainly on his face.
"I don't even know what to say..."
By all rights, he would have had no grounds to complain if they had simply left him behind in the village. Instead, Joseph had even found him an empty house. A mage was a person of high standing. For someone like that to go so far for him — of course he could do nothing but throw himself at Joseph's feet.
"You've taken on private soldiers, haven't you? Let me help as well!"
He moved with a vigor that was hard to believe from a man who had just risen from a sickbed. The will to repay the debt he owed Joseph, by any means, was palpable. As a result, the three private soldiers were worked even harder than before — which, as far as Joseph was concerned, was no bad thing.
In any case, the soldier had recovered, which meant they could move again. The party decided to set out in two days, taking the private soldiers with them.
"Until we leave, spend the time at your own homes."
Joseph gave the order to Auk and Jiren. Once they left the village, it would be a journey with no telling when they might return. If luck ran against them, this could be the last time. He meant for them to go and say their farewells to their families.
Of course, they had never been particularly attached to their families to begin with. This was an age in which you grabbed any opportunity that came, by whatever means you could. If they had treasured their family ties, they would never have become private soldiers in the first place. But it was Joseph's order, so they had no choice but to nod.
He said nothing of the sort to Derik, who had been a village orphan. He didn't even suggest going to see the village chief. The boy would have wanted to leave the village that very instant. Joseph understood that feeling well enough.
While the soldiers prepared for departure, Joseph took the opportunity to check his fire magic again, for the first time in a while.
⟨ Flame Road ⟩
It was a spell he had failed at in the research chamber of Valois Castle. Back then, he hadn't been able to manage the ratio of mana, and it had fallen apart on him. Ever since leaving the castle, Joseph had been practicing it whenever he found a spare moment.
A roar of flame — as he recited the incantation, the Mana Orb spread wide, then transformed into fire. The blaze dropped to the ground with gravity and crept outward, spreading across the surrounding area.
It worked!
A smile bloomed on Joseph's face as he watched.
Flame Road is a spell that raises a wall of fire before the caster.
It sounded impressive enough on paper, but put simply, it was just a spell for setting things on fire. Because it spread flame across a wide area in a single instant, he had to be meticulous about the ratio of fire mana. The moment the ratio went off, the flames would either spread in the wrong direction or pile up in a single spot. If it went even further off, the spell would fail as it had before, and the backlash would come back as a headache. In a pinch, it might be difficult to use properly. Even so, Joseph kept practicing it.
This is going to be quite useful.
Raising a blaze over a wide area at a location of his choosing — even a rough consideration turned up plenty of uses. In truth, as originally designed, it was a flawed spell whose only function was to raise a wall of fire close to the caster. The flames rose so high they blocked your own vision, and they couldn't even stop physical attacks like incoming arrows. It was less a defensive tool than a desperate measure to keep people from getting close.
But Joseph had Mana Orbs. He could fire one out and trigger the spell at a distant location — meaning he could set a fire not only in front of himself, but in front of an enemy. He had already judged, from watching his private soldiers' movements of late, that he couldn't put them on the front line just yet. With this spell, he would be able to pin the enemy's feet from a distance.
In the middle of researching this new magic, a young man from the village came looking for Joseph in a panic.
"Mage! Mage!"