Reunion
"Eek!"
Auk lay sprawled face-down in the courtyard, shrieking, while Joseph stared at Auger with a look of utter disbelief.
Auger waved a hand, looking sheepish.
"That one was a joke."
Auk remained pressed flat against the packed earth and said nothing. Joseph looked down at him in silence.
"I thought you'd decided not to become a private soldier. Why come back?"
Joseph asked it as if nothing of any consequence had happened.
Auk lifted his head a fraction and slowly found his voice.
"I—that is... would you perhaps give me another chance...?"
The words came out small, as if wrung from his throat. When Joseph gave no answer, Auk seemed to gather his courage and raised his voice.
"If you forgive me, I swear...! I swear I'll prove myself worthy of that mercy!"
He finished speaking, but Joseph merely raised an eyebrow.
"You already disobeyed my orders."
"Sir?"
"You became my private soldier. You even received training. And then you never came back. I already forgave you for that."
Auk's eyes went wide.
"And now you want me to forgive you again? You've got some nerve. Asking for another chance on top of it?"
Auk's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment.
"Be honest. Why didn't you come back?"
Auk hesitated, then slowly began to speak.
"I... I heard the rumors about the dreams, and I got scared."
"The dreams? Not because of your family?"
Joseph's gaze shifted to Derik. It didn't match what Derik had told him last time. Derik shook his head, his expression making it plain he had no idea either. Apparently he hadn't known the full story.
Catching that look, Auk hurriedly added:
"D-Derik doesn't know anything. I got scared and used my family as an excuse to run. That's all."
"Then why come back now?"
Even if time had diluted the rumors, the fear should have been just as real. Auk's voice trailed off.
"Well..."
"We don't have time. Spit it out."
It was true. He didn't have time to keep chatting with a soldier who'd already deserted.
Auk's eyes flicked, just for an instant, toward the world beyond the house. Derik and Joseph both grasped the situation at once.
"You've become the village coward, haven't you?"
The words struck home. Auk's mouth clamped shut.
A man who'd passed Joseph's private-soldier test had fled home all by himself — and it wasn't even because his family had held him back. He'd probably been branded a coward and made the village laughingstock. Of course, if you wanted to be fair about it, the others hadn't even passed the test.
Not that anyone would care about that.
Until now, Doran Village had had Derik — the village chief's slave, a punching bag with no fence around him. But after Derik had gone off with Joseph, Auk had apparently had the rotten luck of becoming the next target. This world had no proper entertainment, so boredom and stress found their outlet in the shittiest possible directions. Right now, that target just happened to be Auk.
What should I do with him...
Joseph looked down at Auk, still prostrate on the ground, and weighed his options. He certainly needed more private soldiers. But what he needed were people who would follow his orders loyally. Whatever the reason, Auk had already ignored those orders once.
Honestly, I wasn't that offended at the time.
That was why he'd simply left the man behind and moved on. But coming back changed things. This world was not the modern one. Contracts existed, but they weren't properly protected by any vast machinery of law or state — which made trust all the more important. Especially when the people involved had to trust each other with their lives.
There's also the matter of fairness.
Letting him off just because he'd begged for forgiveness would be bad for managing the other private soldiers. The others might start getting ideas.
"You seem to be deliberating. Would you mind if I offered an opinion?"
Joseph had fallen silent, and Auger asked the question carefully.
"Please, speak freely."
Auger nodded.
"We've already decided to levy conscripts, have we not? Even if you don't take him back, he'll be drafted anyway."
"...That's true."
"So why not give him a chance?"
"In what way?"
"If he throws himself onto the front lines at Malešov and survives, take him back as a private soldier then."
Lost trust had to be repaid with one's life. It was exactly the kind of thing a man who dreamed of knighthood would say.
"I'll do it! I already resolved to risk my life!"
Auk answered before anyone else could.
"Don't interrupt."
"Ah—yes..."
Auger's warning sent Auk's head dropping again. Auger turned back to Joseph.
"Well? The decision is yours, of course."
Auger didn't seem particularly invested in which way Joseph chose. Either way, he'd end up with more soldiers. The suggestion had been offered purely for Joseph's sake.
Joseph considered it for a moment, then spoke.
"Auk. Get up."
"Yes, sir!"
"As you heard, we intend to fight demonic beasts at Malešov. We'll be levying conscripts here shortly, so you'd have to come along either way."
At the words "demonic beasts," Auk swallowed hard.
"You'll stand on the front line. Survive that, and I'll give you a chance. Understood?"
Joseph put it as a question, but Auk didn't really have a choice. Once Auger started conscripting, a village youth like him would be headed to Malešov regardless. And if luck went against him — if he remained a conscript after the demonic beast hunt — he'd be sent on to Valois Castle, and from there he'd drift north to the battlefield. Going back as Joseph's private soldier was, by far, his best option.
Whether he grasped all that or not, Auk nodded at once.
"Yes! I swear it! I'll prove myself out there!"
"Good. Go pack your things and come back."
"Yes, sir!"
He bowed to Joseph again and again, then bolted for home. Watching him go, Auger glanced at Joseph and remarked, almost offhand:
"If he runs again this time, we could just catch him and take his head."
Joseph let out a dry laugh, but this time he didn't exactly disagree. A soldier who fled twice was useless, and leaving him be would be bad for the other private soldiers' morale besides.
East of Valois Castle, on a stretch of road not far from the walls, Manir — a knight of Count Poner — and his men were wandering Valois Territory disguised as mercenaries.
"You're saying that mage is in the south right now?"
"That's right. Word is he's been wiping out every bandit he comes across down there."
The traveling merchant said this while fondly stroking the silver coin Manir had given him.
Easier to find than I expected.
Manir let out a small, inward breath of relief. He'd thought the mage had vanished somewhere in the east, but apparently the man was making quite a racket as he went. Manir had been prepared to search for a long time. This was fortunate.
Then again, I suppose that's only natural.
Mages were a breed that prided themselves on being different from ordinary people. Which meant they had the temperament of the most extravagant nobles — they wanted to show themselves off, one way or another. They couldn't help but expose themselves somehow.
"A mage hunting bandits, though — that's a bit unexpected. Is that something he usually does?"
The merchant shook his head.
"No, not at all. After he hunted the northern demonic beasts, he didn't leave the castle for quite some time... He was probably hired by the viscount, don't you think?"
Manir's expression grew slightly complicated.
"Northern demonic beasts?"
"Ah, you must not be from around here."
"That's right. The work takes us wherever it goes."
Manir tapped the sword at his hip. The merchant nodded as if that explained everything.
"Well, mercenaries go wherever the work is."
And then he launched into the tale of the northern demonic beasts Joseph had hunted — how the mage had ridden out of the castle at the head of a motley company of priests, knights, mercenaries, and castle soldiers; how he'd returned not long after with the charred corpse of a demonic beast; and how, on top of everything, he hadn't taken a single casualty. The way the merchant carried on, all flourishes and gasps, would have suited a bard far better than a tradesman.
Manir let the words wash over him and thought.
A giant bear demonic beast with brown fur?
He smiled bitterly despite himself. That had been an ambitious scheme prepared by one of Count Poner's vassals. Manir didn't know the exact method, but he knew they'd lured a demonic beast that way to cut the supply lines. The vassal who'd carried it out hadn't been someone Manir particularly trusted, but the results had been effective.
And yet...
He hunted that thing without a single casualty?
It was a creature sent to block a critical supply route. Even for a mage, it wouldn't have been an easy fight. A veteran like Manir himself would have had a hard time with that beast. And this mage had hunted it without losing a single man.
...He must be burning through that artifact like there's no tomorrow.
A mage whose name Manir hadn't even heard until recently had appeared out of nowhere and slain a giant demonic beast. Mages varied wildly in combat ability compared to knights, but even so, this was rare. If the man had truly been that skilled, his name would have been known long ago. Manir concluded that the mage was using a mana-recovery artifact.
This isn't good...
From the circumstances, it seemed this mage Joseph had been formally employed by Valois Castle after the hunt. Which meant there was a high chance the artifact had fallen into enemy hands.
"So why are you looking for this mage, anyway?"
The merchant, having tucked the silver coin into his clothes, asked without much thought. Manir shrugged and answered casually.
"Thought there might be some decent work. The northern front is too far, and too dangerous."
"Ha, fair enough. Though you don't exactly look like you've got the skills for it."
The merchant snickered as he made the joke, and Manir's eyebrow twitched despite himself. Paying up front had apparently made him look like an easy mark.
Hah. This bastard.
But he didn't draw his sword. Even though, as a noble, he'd just been insulted by a commoner.
...I can't afford to blow the mission.
Manir was, for a noble, a fairly practical man. He wasn't one of those idiots who charged ahead waving a banner, the way other knights did. That was why he'd been given a mission to infiltrate enemy territory like this — and why the other knights called him "Coward Manir."
"A man's life is the most important thing, isn't it?"
Manir said this with a smile, glancing back at the soldiers standing behind him. The merchant nodded.
"True enough. It's all just to make a living. Safety first."
Even as a mercenary, sticking close to a mage who hunted bandits was better than a battlefield where you risked your life every day. That, at least, was how the merchant seemed to take Manir's words.
"Well then, take care of yourself."
"Yes. Thank you."
After they parted from the merchant, one of the soldiers approached.
"Baron, will you be all right?"
Manir's squire asked, his brow furrowed. He meant: was it really fine to let that merchant who'd been so rude just walk away? Of course the squire knew the merchant had spoken that way because he didn't know who Manir really was. It was more a matter of form than a genuine question. Manir knew that, and shook his head.
"That's not what matters right now. You heard it too. The mage has gone under Count Valois."
The mood among the soldiers sank. They'd come all this way, only to find the artifact might already be in enemy hands. If they failed to recover it, they would likely all hang for it.
"The artifact hasn't reached Count Valois's hands yet."
The mage was still wandering the territory, dealing with bandits and demonic beasts. Which meant the artifact was almost certainly still with this Joseph.
That's why he's still wandering around like that.
Of course, Joseph no longer had any connection to Count Valois, and the artifact had been broken for a long time. But Manir had no way of knowing that, and so he continued to hunt Joseph's trail.