A Son Starving for Filial Duty (1)
A Son Starving for Filial Duty (1)
The subjugation of the Ancient Tree Legion has concluded.
Remnant individuals are scattered and lying low, but their numbers are few and they're all acting alone.
That level can be mopped up even by the weak central-southern army.
The northern knights had nothing left to do.
The count's vassals naturally assumed they'd throw a wild party, but that wasn't the case at all.
"Heuat!"
"Ack!"
"Is that all you've got?! That's why your comrade got his limbs cut off!"
"I'm sorry!"
"Feel ashamed!"
With the subjugation nearly over, the northern knights instead threw themselves into intense training.
It was routine for them.
The count family's knights secretly spied on them, but the northerners knew and deliberately pretended not to notice.
"No, how can those bastards maintain their Mana Swords for so long without getting tired?"
"And from the looks of it, they don't seem to care at all if their swords break?"
"Just what is that sword?"
A failed Mana Injection can ruin a sword.
If that happens during battle, it's a catastrophe.
Therefore, the better a sword withstands mana, the more it's treated as a masterwork.
But even though that short sword is ruthlessly injected with mana and swung around, not a single one gets destroyed.
The count's knights, unable to hold back any longer, mustered their courage and stepped forward.
"I know this is rude, but could we perhaps experience that sword for a moment?"
"It seems to be a rare masterwork, and we really wish to feel it just once."
Dvil smirked.
He was pleased that the bastards had snapped up the bait.
"In the central-south, it seems a sword is like some iron companion, but in the North, we have no such thing. A sword is merely a tool."
After collecting the token of sincerity (a pouch of gold coins) the count's knights had prepared, Dvil glanced back at his subordinates.
"Lend them out to match their numbers."
"Yes!"
"Feel free to swing them around here as much as you like."
"We are truly grateful."
The count's knights, who had witnessed the northern elites' explosive combat power (Mandrake Root) and terrifying mental fortitude (Fentanyl), accepted the machetes with boundless politeness.
Dvil spoke like an instructor.
"Don't worry about a thing. Go ahead and inject your mana with all your might."
The knights injected their mana with full force and coated their blades.
In that state, they powerfully struck down and stabbed at thick training logs and rocks.
Their eyes widened.
'The sword doesn't scream at all!'
'For a sword to be this quiet!'
A sword suffering from Mana Overload transmits strong resonance to its owner to the fullest extent.
It's like an injured area appealing to the head with pain.
Catching that faint signal well, and carefully regulating mana so the sword doesn't burst, is the skill of a knight.
But this sword remains silent no matter how full of mana it is.
"Truly astonishing. I've never seen such a resilient masterwork before."
"How can there be not just one or two, but over a hundred of these masterworks...."
"What is the name of this sword?"
Dvil laughed heartily in front of the count's knights who were returning the swords.
"It's a sword called the Ontario Titan's Machete. The reason the blade is short is that it was forged to one day be used by a Sword Master wielding an Aura Blade."
At first glance, it was a fearsome name.
The count's knights muttered it under their breaths several times, trying not to forget the name.
'If the quantity is this plentiful... couldn't a trade be possible?'
The mood was good.
The most senior of the count's knights cautiously asked Dvil.
"Could we perhaps purchase the machetes?"
Dvil, still smiling, shook his head.
"The Wolves of the North never abandon their family under any circumstances."
"...."
The count's knights all thought the same thing.
'Didn't he just say it was merely a tool a moment ago?'
***
"Luna, since the subjugation is almost over, suspend support for territorial civilian evacuation for the time being and focus on intelligence gathering."
-Yes, Colonel-nim.
"Also, maintain regular radio contact with Lord Deville."
-Understood.
Two days after Dvil's unit had its spectacular debut battle.
Ainshuvan was hit by a much stronger raid than usual.
I also received the report by radio from the palanquin on the banks of the Dwein River.
A scale reminiscent of the major surprise attack the 4th Army suffered before.
But when the 80 mortars ceaselessly spewed fire, amazingly enough, the bastards reportedly retreated en masse.
I immediately sent them the expended shells.
"Bastards who know nothing but charging until the last one falls, retreating?"
"They pulled out because they know they're no match at all."
The two women were surprised, saying it was the first time they'd seen a strategic retreat by the Elf Legion.
I summarized the situation.
"Two days after Dvil's unit showed itself, the massive invasion of Ainshuvan occurred. As expected, they were trying to draw us out with a rear area disruption."
"So the bastards have a means to deliver news from the central region to the Elf Forest within two days."
"Colonel Piel, perhaps they used a flying monster?"
"In any case, the bastards tried to draw out the northern main force with the Anvelrum landing operation, but they failed."
"Colonel Piel, will they try not to attempt the same thing again?"
"Commander-in-Chief, who knows? Since they experienced having their rear area gleefully raided, wouldn't they rather keep targeting it persistently?"
"They were blocked by the Machete Knight Order, but since they saw a greater effect there, I think it'll turn out as Rebecca-nim says."
Isn't the fact that they immediately pulled out so much force the moment they confirmed the mortars were solidly guarding it proof of that?
"The elf bastards learned this time that it's far more advantageous to bypass the Ivory Whale Lake and land in the rear."
The silhouette of the elf assassin mage I'd encountered several times on the battlefield before flashes in my mind.
She hasn't shown herself since being sniped by Rebecca's Aura Arrow.
Did that female assassin, presumed to be a high-ranking elf individual, also land in Anvelrum?
'Come to think of it, I heard my noona almost died....'
My heart sank when I heard that story too.
'I want to bring her to the North and live together. But I guess it won't work.'
Noona is the next count, and there's no case of a noble abandoning their own territory.
But helping the current count for noona's sake is an option that would give me cancer.
When I shared those worries, Hildea laughed heartily and patted my shoulder.
"Colonel Piel, isn't it simple? Just let the territory she has to protect disappear."
"Hildea-nim... are you a genius?"
"Don't underestimate the strategy that earned me four stars at this age."
I shouldn't say the bad thing that it was earned with an Aura Blade, not strategy.
'Later, when noona comes, shall I make her work as a butler and wash the dishes I use every day?'
Just imagining it is delightful.
Originally, I had planned to enter noona's service as a butler and mooch off her.
'Noona really loved the new menu items I had the cooks whip up by pressuring them.'
Back then, I was full of the qualities to become the next count's head butler.
I even obediently followed whatever my biological father ordered.
'I'll have to actively push immigration encouragement policies.'
While drafting the long-term Marshall Plan in my head on how to raise and maintain a 2-million-strong army, I watched the two women's mutual training.
'The Noble Council has properly realized our combat power. Now, will it be containment? Or surrender to survive?'
Whichever they choose, it's a laughing matter from our standpoint.
This is what happens when supplies are overflowing.
No matter what choice the enemy makes, we can flexibly respond and smash them.
'Then, shall I have some free beer? Still, I should check the taste.'
【Requesting supply of 200L of Nellis White & Black Lager beer.】
A super-sized draft beer keg you'd only see at a beer festival appeared.
A cylinder 50cm in diameter and 1 meter tall.
I held a cup to the tap, poured the beer gushing out, and took a sip.
'What the hell? This is beer?'
It's not that it tastes bad.
It gives off a decent refreshing orange peel scent-like feeling.
But....
'This is just water, isn't it?'
Only then did I check the description of low-alcohol beer.
【For those who are constitutionally weak with alcohol but want to show a hearty image of chugging at parties, with a clear orange peel fragrance and low proof....】
Just how many people are weak with alcohol but want to stylishly chug large beer mugs?
This is beer that's fundamentally wrong.
You drink alcohol to get drunk, so why make alcohol for alcohol lightweights?
'This is why the rebate....'
In my opinion, rather than thinking of promoting it with a rebate, it would've been better to just scrap the brand.
Like a 'low-proof whiskey like water for those who can't drink strong whiskey!' would sell well.
Just then, Hildea and Rebecca paused their training and approached.
The two women's eyes, as they examined the beer keg, were full of curiosity.
"Colonel Piel? What kind of mysterious beverage is this now?"
"Judging by the smell, it's beer? The storage container looks fascinating."
Come to think of it, beer did exist in this era too.
Though it's the concept of sterilized barley tea mixed with a bit of alcohol.
The beer here isn't made to be used as alcohol, but as a drink for hydration.... Oh, wait?
"Would you like to try some?"
"I'll partake gladly."
"I'll enjoy it."
They each poured a cup and chugged it.
"A refreshing and clean taste. But I much prefer cola."
"I prefer cola too."
"However, one keg of this costs about the same as one grilled chicken skewer."
I decided to hide the harsh truth that it's free and actually gives you a grilled chicken skewer on top of it.
"...."
"...."
The two women's gazes, staring at the 50cm diameter, 1-meter-tall cylinder, shook violently.
Rebecca spoke first.
"Piel, could we possibly supply this to our territory? Drinking water is always in short supply as it is."
"Of course. I'll provide as much as I possibly can."
"P-Piel Colonel! To my territory as well...."
"That's so obvious I didn't even bother to mention it."
"As expected of my duty officer and loyal vassal. I shall diligently give you a Mana Massage today as well."
Come to think of it, the commoners of Anvelrum drank beer rather than water.
Because water teeming with bacteria can cause illness if drunk wrong, but beer is safe.
Even kids drank it since the alcohol was low. It was closer to tea than alcohol.
'President Nellis, I will not forget your dedication for alcohol lightweights.'
Everything has its use.
It just hasn't found the right place for its use yet.
***
"By the way, Colonel Piel, how long do you plan to stay here?"
"Isn't the evacuation of new territorial civilians all finished now?"
While receiving a deep-tissue massage on my back from the two women, I shared my plan.
"I'm debating whether or not to go see Count Anbelrum's face."
I'm insanely dying to see my 'father' so badly, is this really normal?
'Return in Glory was definitely used in the Joseon era to mean showing off.'
"I think it'll be fine? The elf bastards now know that Ainshuvan's defense is solid too."
"They tried to strike with a grand army, got surprised, and all fled. They won't dare to mess with us again."
"And with the 105mm Magical Cannon Commander-in-Chief also solidly guarding it, what's there to worry about with Ainshuvan? Want to take a quick trip with me?"
"Wait a moment. He's my duty officer and vassal, so why is Carlton Marquis-nim going together?"
"Because my title is higher?"
"I have two more stars."
"My land is much bigger."
"I-If I combine the western part of Ainshuvan too...!"
"But you gave it to Piel as a fief, didn't you?"
"Nominally, it's still my territory anyway!"
"Hmm, gave it then took it back?"
I'm indeed curious about the Noble Council's choice.
Will they be alarmed by the heat we showed and become wary?
Or will they kneel for the defense of a rear area that's no longer safe?
I found out the answer before dinner.
Via a radio message sent by Lord Deville.
-Colonel Marshall, the count is offering to give me Viscount Potashu's territory as a fief, asking if I won't settle down there with my men?
I laughed.
They saw the might of an armored division made of flesh, bone, mana, and machetes, so they must be very tempted.
But even if they get it, can they even run it? What about the maintenance costs?
"How did you respond?"
Let's see Lord Deville's sense here.
-Naturally, I stood up in anger. I snapped back, asking if he thought I could be bought with this kind of territory.
"It is indeed too small and shabby a land to buy Lord Deville's honor."
<Hildea in plain clothes (future)>