The Iron and Gold Baron
Nelloa Isquente, Third Commander of the Northern Front. A handsome, cheerful man in his mid-twenties, he always wore a bright smile. Known far and wide simply as "Baron Isquente" rather than by his actual name or title, he was a man who openly referred to himself as a petty coward. Though he never explained why, people whispered that it was because he lacked ambition. On the surface, he indeed seemed to possess no grand vision or courage. He was a man so consumed with protecting what he already had that he never coveted more. It wasn't that he lacked ability; he was simply too easily satisfied, content to settle. His actions were frivolous, and his words carried no weight.
"My, you two have truly outdone yourselves! I knew I was right to trust you. Thanks to your efforts, the entire region of Requitas is absolutely buzzing. The rumors are wild!"
"Rumors?"
"They say God sent a demon to cleanse Requitas! Someone claims they saw a monster straight from hell tearing off people's heads and eating them. *Crunch, crunch!* Crushing their bones and everything. Did you really eat them?"
"Shall I show you right here and now?"
"Hahaha! Let's save that for later. Surely there are far tastier things to eat than a dusty old soldier like me? I've prepared a feast to welcome you. I went out of my way to hire a brand-new chef this time, so I'm sure the Saintess will love it!"
Yet, his true value only shone when it came to defending what was his. Because he cherished what he possessed, he doted on his people to a fault. His light words and frivolous actions made him nimble, and his willingness to adapt made him incredibly flexible. The Baron of Iron and Gold. A monster crouching in a paradise of his own making—that was the true nature of Baron Isquente. Grinning from ear to ear, the Baron guided them toward his estate. For a commander of the front lines—no, for a noble in general—he was remarkably casual and friendly.
"Hey, Jackson! How's business today?"
"Same as always, my Lord. As you can see, I'm mostly just shooing away flies."
"Well, we can't have that! Give me one of those apples!"
"Catch!"
The fruit seller tossed the apple, and the Baron caught it deftly with both hands, tossing back a coin from his pouch.
"Would you care for an apple? I buy from him all the time, so I know firsthand—that fellow has an uncanny eye for picking the best fruit."
"I'll have some. Split it in half for me."
"Here you go! I'll take the other half."
Sirien took a bite. A crisp crunch echoed, and her beautiful eyes widened in surprise.
"This is delicious! It's incredibly sweet."
"Isn't it? You must stop by and get some before you leave. It would be a tragedy to let talent like his go to waste."
"Rajen, try some. It's really good."
"I prefer having fruit for dessert."
"Hurry up!"
"Ah, you ignore my warnings. But that only proves how delicious it is. I am glad!"
In the end, I relented and took the piece of apple Sirien offered. It was indeed as sweet and flavorful as Baron Isquente had boasted. By the time the three of us had finished our snack, we had arrived at the Baron's estate. It was a place devoid of stuffy tradition or rigid formality, radiating a warm, cheerful atmosphere instead. The servants here looked far happier than those in any other noble household. As the Baron walked past, a gardener simply offered a polite nod and a warm smile rather than bowing deeply in subservience.
"Welcome back, my Lord. The chef is waiting for you."
"We're heading straight there!"
"Understood. And it is good to see you two again. Please look after our Lord."
The Baron didn't stop chattering even as we walked down the hallways. Thanks to that, we were fully caught up on his recent affairs before we even sat down.
"You will be absolutely amazed by this chef's skills. I stumbled upon him by chance during my recent visit to the capital. His food was so profoundly moving that I ate at his establishment every single day I was there!"
"You went to the capital?"
"Yes, I only returned a few days ago. I set off the very day after I entrusted you with that task. Ah, the capital is truly something else. It feels like the scenery changes every time I visit. Still, nothing beats my own territory."
"You usually look like you're marching to your death whenever you leave your territory. It seems you actually enjoyed yourself this time."
"Oh, don't even get me started. I had my fair share of trouble this time too. The capital is crawling with old geezers who harbor three hundred venomous vipers in their bellies. I felt like I was suffocating."
The Baron waved his hand dismissively. Even so, he couldn't stop singing praises of his own land. Most of his claims were baseless grumblings—how the water tasted different outside his borders, or how other places lacked a human touch. Yet, one thing was certain: though he might exaggerate, he was not a liar. The feast he had painstakingly prepared was so lavish that even Sirien's jaw dropped. A magnificent spread of delicacies from land and sea covered the table.
"Come, sit, sit. Everything goes smoother when your stomach is full, doesn't it?"
It felt like it had been ages since I last saw Sirien looking so genuinely happy while eating.
"Incredible! This fish doesn't have a hint of gaminess. The journey to transport it all the way here must have been long. How did they manage it?"
"I knew the Saintess would appreciate it! That is the genius of our chef. No matter what he cooks, he brings out the natural flavors of the ingredients while completely masking any flaws."
"The roasted turkey is delicious too. It's seasoned with just butter and herbs, but the aroma is exquisite. The texture is so tender."
"Haha! That is his signature dish. I fell so deeply in love with it that I practically begged him to become my personal chef. It's absurd to think a talent like him was buried in obscurity until now!"
The two of them eagerly critiqued the food. My palate wasn't refined enough for such things, so I simply enjoyed it as a meal that tasted much better than usual. I was just glad to eat my fill of meat. The drinks were also quite good, offering a pleasant balance of sweet and tart. Honestly, it tasted better than any juice I had ever had in my past life. It seemed to be a blend of cranberry and something else, though I couldn't tell for sure. I've always had rather unrefined tastes, after all.
After we had thoroughly enjoyed our feast, the servants cleared away the dishes. As we waited for dessert, a comfortable lull settled over the room—the perfect time to talk business. Sirien spoke first.
"How are things on the front lines lately? It feels like we've been away from the gateway for quite some time."
"Quiet and peaceful. The newly appointed Second Commander is working incredibly hard, so everything has been calm. Thanks to him, our sector is as tranquil as can be."
"I'm glad to hear that. Because I don't think you'll be able to return to the front lines for a while, Baron."
"Pardon? Why are you suddenly making me anxious? We've only just cleared out the troublemakers in our rear."
"Would you like to read this?"
Sirien handed over a document written by Russell himself. It was a sort of written statement, detailing the transactions he had made with Marquis Eloran and the activities of Crescent Moon. The core of the text outlined everything up to the moment Russell realized the Marquis was colluding with the demons.
The moment Baron Isquente read the first page, his expression soured. His perpetually cheerful face turned deathly pale, and his hands began to tremble violently as they gripped the paper.
"This... where on earth did this information come from? Who is the source? How reliable is it?"
"If you keep reading, you'll see the details are quite convincing. The source is coming here in person, so you can see his face then. As for reliability... well, I don't think he has any reason to lie to us."
"If you say so, Saintess, then it must be almost certain..."
As the Baron read further, the life seemed to drain from his body. He looked so pitiful it was hard to watch. He couldn't even bring himself to touch the dessert prepared by the chef he had praised so highly. In the end, Baron Isquente tried to flee from reality.
"P-Proof! We need proof! No matter how much I trust you, Saintess, a matter of this gravity requires undeniable physical evidence!"
"We are already in the process of securing that evidence. We parted ways north of Requitas, so he should arrive in three or four days at the latest. He will be traveling under the name Russell, so make sure to inform your guards in advance."
With that, the Baron was utterly defeated. He stared blankly at the ceiling. It felt as though his soul would drift right out of his body if Sirien so much as waved a hand. To him, the revelation that Marquis Eloran was colluding with the demons was not merely a matter of having a traitor within their ranks.
The structure of the Northern Front's garrison was simple. Under normal circumstances, commanders like Baron Isquente handled the defense. If a situation arose that exceeded their capabilities, Marquis Eloran would step in. In other words, structurally speaking, Marquis Eloran was Baron Isquente's superior. And that superior apparently despised Baron Isquente. In truth, he had been in the Marquis's bad graces for quite some time, but now the man was actively colluding with the enemy to have him killed. For Baron Isquente to survive, he had to report this to the capital and have Marquis Eloran ousted. If that happened, one of them would inevitably die. It had become a literal death match.
"The evidence... once the evidence arrives, what am I supposed to do?"
"What do you mean, 'what'? You'll have to handle that yourself."
"How can you say something so cruel! Saintess, are we not sharing a meal at the very same table right now? Are you truly going to turn a blind eye to my crisis and tribulation?"
"Who said anything about turning a blind eye?"
Sirien replied nonchalantly.
"You just have to ram right through him."
"Aaaargh! That's exactly what I'm trying to avoid! Marquis Eloran is a great noble! He's completely out of my league!"