Lord Piel (3)
Lord Piel (3)
Baron Rephel.
He had originally lived well as a poor vassal managing a rural region of the great central lord Marquis Hapscorten's territory, until he was forcibly relocated to the north after being rescued by Luna's airborne unit.
At first, he despaired at why such a trial had befallen him, but his heart was swayed when he met his new lord on the banks of the Dwein River.
A colossal harem palanquin borne by thousands of soldiers.
A generous lord flanked on either side by two dazzlingly beautiful women, a silver-haired and a golden-haired beauty, and scattering rectangular breads generously topped with meat (pepperoni square pizza) all around.
And was that all?
As settlement support, he granted each person 10kg of pure white flour. No exceptions, not even for newborn babies.
The new lord was truly generous.
Arriving at the new territory with hopeful hearts, the residents saw the territory boiling over with energy like a blast furnace and realized their expectations had not been wrong.
The territory was overflowing with bread. What's more, it was bread made from pure white flour.
In their former hometown, it was a precious food that even the great lord could not eat often.
Furthermore, the fire mages stationed at the public bakery bake it for them free of charge!
'Just how much surplus must the territory have, to set those precious mages to baking bread for the territory residents to eat?'
Every kind of job, starting with construction, was overflowing.
All wages were paid the same day in flour exchange tickets (board game currency).
Contrary to rumors that people died every day due to the Elf Legion's invasion, there was not a single monster to be seen, let alone a wild boar prowling around the village.
The infrastructure was still severely lacking compared to rear territories, but when it came to food alone, it was an incomparable heaven.
They even handed out free low-alcohol beer.
It was beer contained in huge 200-liter metal kegs, and some kind of magic had been cast so that the keg would vanish on its own once emptied.
The former administrative officials who had been forcibly relocated were certain.
'Ainshuvan will soon become the great territory that rules the Leodis Kingdom.'
The former administrative officials, under the direction of Head Butler Andrea, served the Marshall family on behalf of Count Balckenhardt.
Baron Rephel also worked hard every day for the lord whose face he had only seen once.
And at last.
Tidings of victory came from the rear.
"Our lord, together with His Excellency Count Balckenhardt, has completely subjugated the Elf Legion that infiltrated the center!"
"Marquis Hapscorten's territory has been annexed to Count Balckenhardt's territory, and our lord has received a fief!"
"Through the establishment of the Standing Inspectorate, he has gained formidable authority even in the Noble Council!"
"A grand Triumph Ceremony is being planned to celebrate the great victory of the North!"
The soldiers who appeared in the city prepared a magnificent Triumph Ceremony.
They set up huge pots all over the city and made ready to prepare food.
The enormous cauldrons and the staggering quantity of beer kegs, visible from anywhere in the city, hinted that a truly grand party was about to take place.
Therefore, the territory residents—native and immigrant, young and old alike—swallowed their saliva in anticipation, waiting for the Triumph Ceremony to begin.
And finally, that day came.
"The lord is coming!"
"Everyone cheer for the lord!"
"Long live Ainshuvan! Long live Marshall!"
The super-giant palanquin borne by thousands of robust mana soldiers appeared in the city. It was so large and majestic that it had to stop at the city entrance.
Music played by the military band resounded throughout the city.
The residents flocked around the palanquin, everyone eager to see the new lord's face.
A clamor rose from people climbing onto roofs and chimneys to catch a glimpse of the palanquin.
"Good heavens! A super-giant palanquin like that! Just how rich is our lord?"
"That's exactly why he bestows so much upon us!"
"Long live Baron Marshall!"
"Long live Marshall! Long live! But is he really a baron?"
"Ah, who knows! He's a vassal of a county, so he must be a baron!"
That the vassal was far wealthier than his liege lord (Hildea) was a widely spread source of pride among the territory's residents.
The western region of the Baltics River, once doomed to mass starvation due to the annihilation of the 1st and 2nd Armies, was rapidly reviving.
It was thanks to Head Butler Andrea managing the territory well with Piel's supplies.
"Ooooh! The lord reveals himself from the palanquin!"
The palanquin soldiers braced the bottom with pillars to secure the harem palanquin.
And finally, the lord revealed himself.
Long, flowing, splendid garments that were difficult to move in alone.
On his left and right, the dazzling silver-haired and golden-haired beauties from before were arm-in-arm with him.
Former Baron Rephel's heart pounded.
'As expected, our lord's harem palanquin!'
Magnificent music resounded ceaselessly throughout the city.
Excited residents, their faces flushed, shouted "Marshall!"
At last, the moment the young lord raised his hand, all the cheering stopped as if by magic.
A quiet yet vast voice, booming through a megaphone, spread across the entire city.
"The Triumph Ceremony shall commence. Let everyone eat and drink to their heart's content."
The explosion spells the mages shot high into the sky spread out magnificently like a fireworks display.
The cooks recklessly ripped open 3kg cans and roughly emptied them into the large pots.
Baron Rephel looked at the heating tool warming the pot with curious eyes.
'What in the world is that magical device? How does it produce a blue flame at that size?'
The US military kerosene burner was simply nothing but fascinating in Rephel's eyes.
But soon, the savory and delicious smell spreading from the pot seized his focus.
"Beer is unlimited! Eat and drink as much as you want!"
"We will show you what true Marshall Stew is! Unit pizza-beer stew is not Marshall Stew!"
"This is the real Marshall Stew!"
The cooks shouted exactly as they had been rigorously trained beforehand.
There was no need to stand in line.
Because the pots brewing the stew were spread out immensely across the entire city.
The residents were appalled at the amount of stew being generously ladled into their large pots.
"I-is it really alright for us to eat all of this?"
"You can eat it and eat again! Do you see those stew cans over there? The Colonel has provided them so that everyone can have one each! Children and newborn babies included!"
"O-one per person! Such a huge stew can!"
"So eat plenty! Hahahaha!"
Baron Rephel received his serving in a large pot and sat down around it with his family.
His wife and children swallowed their saliva.
"D-darling. Is this really stew?"
"Papa. This isn't Marshall Stew. I don't see any bread."
"Didn't you hear? The soldier men said this is the real Marshall Stew!"
"Then the Marshall Stew we ate before was fake?"
"They say this is the real Marshall Stew."
Baron Rephel's eyes spun round and round.
Thickly cut beef and vegetables were packed densely in a rich broth.
Most of the vegetables were things he didn't even recognize.
With a trembling spoon, he scooped up the meat and vegetables and put them in his mouth.
An immense explosion burst upon the tip of his tongue, and his eyes flew wide open.
"Dear, how does it taste?"
"...It's a taste I've never even imagined before. How can meat be this tender and give off such a sweet aroma...?"
"Me too! I want to eat too!"
"Now let's eat, everyone!"
The children also excitedly thrust their spoons in.
As soon as they took a bite, they all turned to stone for a moment as if they had made a pact.
The youngest even burst into tears.
"It's delicious... It's too delicious..."
"I-is this really meat, Papa?"
There was no way that was true.
Baron Rephel had once been humbly served a meat dish at a great lord's banquet, but it had absolutely never tasted like this.
'Soup and stew are originally dishes made by the poor to stretch the amount of food...'
And they put this kind of meat generously into such a dish?
'Just how wealthy is the lord...!'
Completely thrilled, the youngest child grabbed a small bowl and dashed toward the pot.
Without a word of complaint, the cooks filled the bowl to the brim with stew.
"Papa! Mama! Look at this! There's white meat in it!"
"Darling? C-could this be white fish?"
"It is. It's definitely a white fish that lives in the sea. How in the world did they think to make stew with this?"
Baron Rephel was astonished.
Unsalted sea fish is a high-class ingredient that even a king eats rarely.
To make this kind of stew with it.
"What is this large, softly chewed vegetable? It looks like a plant root..."
Just then, a security soldier passing by interjected with a smile.
"Ah, that is called a potato."
"Potato? What is that, soldier-nim?"
"I've only seen them cooked too, so I don't know much, but anyway, it's a delicious vegetable. Please eat plenty."
The stew wasn't just one kind.
There were six assorted stews: beef, chicken, pork, lamb, white fish, and one with a large fowl he'd never seen before (turkey).
Without question or hesitation, any pot or bowl held out was simply filled to the brim.
Beer was also unlimited.
When acquaintances went to fetch a large wooden barrel to drink together, the cook smiled heartily and told them to take one of the stacked 200-liter kegs.
"I-is it really alright for us to take this and drink?"
"Yes, take it and share it among yourselves."
"Long live the lord! Long live Baron Marshall!"
"Ah, our Colonel is not yet a baron, so please shout 'Long live Colonel Marshall.'"
"Long live Colonel Marshall!"
No matter how low-alcohol the beer was, drinking it without limit was bound to make one slightly drunk.
Slightly tipsy, Rephel looked around.
Territory residents hugging large beer kegs, eating and drinking with every type of stew spread out before them.
Some people were dead drunk and dancing or showing off their talents.
Children were excitedly running around, clutching small bowls of stew.
Scattered here and there, flour bread could be seen, but no one paid it any attention.
'Could this place be the banquet hall of the gods?'
He had never even heard of such a Triumph Ceremony. It wasn't written in any book.
Not only that, but they said they would tour the entire northern region for several weeks, holding this same Triumph Ceremony party.
Suddenly, the figure of the generous lord caught Baron Rephel's eye.
Riding a small palanquin borne by eight soldiers, accompanied by his two beautiful favorite consorts, he weaved among the residents who were merrily eating and drinking.
"Long live Colonel Marshall!"
"Long live the lord!"
"May you be in good health, Lord-nim!"
When the children rushed over in a swarm, the young lord smiled benevolently, pulled food from a magical device, and scattered it generously in all directions.
"Whoaaaa! It's a snack bar! A snack bar!"
"Don't fight! You'll get hurt! Pick them up slowly!"
"W-we're sorry!"
When the palanquin soldiers scolded them sternly, the children flinched and picked up the snack bars in an orderly manner.
"They're delicious! Too delicious!"
"Whoaaaa! So delicious!"
A generous lord who endlessly scattered handfuls of snack bars as he paraded through the streets where the unlimited meat stew and beer party was underway.
As the youngest child pressed a snack bar into his hand for him to eat too, Rephel held it gently and gazed endlessly at the back of the palanquin disappearing into the distance.
***
'So this is why the generals of ancient Rome went into debt trying to make their Triumph Ceremonies so splendid. The addictiveness is just too electrifying.'
Originally, I hadn't intended to throw snack bars.
But seeing the children who flocked over and enjoyed them so much, my hands were moving before I knew it.
In my heart, I wanted to scatter loads of other PX snacks too, but I just stuck to the Milk Salt Snack Bars.
"You two, please help me scatter some too."
"Alright."
"Colonel Piel, shall I throw my Calova CX bars too?"
"No. Those are Hildea-nim's exclusive snacks."
"Piel? Only the Commander-in-Chief's exclusive snack?"
"Ah, of course, I will give some to Rebecca-nim as well."
"I almost got upset there."
The palanquin borne by eight soldiers was wide enough for the three of us to lie down in.
I had a pile of snack bars in front of me, and Hildea and Rebecca also helped me throw the snack bars wildly around us.
'So this is what it feels like to scatter gold coins at a Triumph Ceremony.'
Seeing the residents merrily eating, drinking, and spreading out made my heart swell with satisfaction.
'Next Triumph Ceremony, I'd like to hold a samgyeopsal party. But for that, a colonel's budget wouldn't even come close to covering it.'
"Colonel Piel, this Triumph Ceremony thing seems terribly addictive."
"I agree with the Commander-in-Chief. It's so electrifying I'm already dying to hold another one."
I actively agree.
When I heard that ancient Roman generals waged wars just to taste the thrill of a Triumph Ceremony, I didn't believe it, but now that I've experienced it myself, it's true.
"Let's hold our Triumph Ceremonies often."
A small realization.
You don't hold a Triumph Ceremony because you won the war.
You wage wars in order to hold the Triumph Ceremony.