Chapter 9
Chapter 9
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: 8. 5 Minutes a Day
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Deia and the servants stared at me blankly. Their faces were frozen like statues, as if time itself had stopped.
Naturally, it was Deia who broke the silence.
“What did you say? You’ll solve it if I give you just one hour?”
She mulled over my words, then let out a hollow laugh as if only just grasping their meaning.
“Do you even know what’s happening right now? Get a proper read on the situation before you start flapping your mouth...!”
“The barbarians crossing Northsweden have likely seized our outpost on the ridgeline by now.”
I cut her off, and Deia scowled while shooting glares at the other servants.
Her eyes demanded to know if any of them had leaked information to me, but they all shook their heads in unison.
Of course not.
This came from another invisible servant of the Verdi Family.
Now was the time to press my advantage. I rattled off the intel Scrall had given me.
“Their numbers are smaller than expected. The problem is they’ve marched straight in without avoiding battle, backed by surprisingly high-quality weapons.”
“......”
Deia’s gaze flicked toward the bed. Darius’s ashen face confirmed I wasn’t spouting nonsense.
“They’ve misread the enemy’s goal. Normally, these barbarians flee here to survive, but not this time.”
This was different.
The woman named Pindenai wasn’t running away.
She intended to slip into the Griffin Kingdom over the mountains, true—but unlike other barbarians, she planned to enter boldly through the front gate.
“These barbarians are battle-hardened veterans, but their leader is the real issue. The white wolf with blood-red eyes.”
I clicked my tongue.
The moment I mentioned Pindenai, Darius grimaced, twisting in bed and causing fresh blood to ooze from his wound.
“These aren’t refugees fleeing. She’s a resistance fighter who’s openly defied the infamous Clock Republic.”
“......How do you know all that?”
“I have my ways.”
Normally, I’d have snapped that it was none of her business. But I wanted to treat Deia as well as I could.
I knew all too well the pain inflicted by family.
Of course, my actual response wasn’t exactly gentle, and Deia frowned.
‘I can’t treat her like the ghosts.’
They didn’t need reasons—they just loved hearing what they wanted.
Unlike Deia, they didn’t grasp cause and effect. What did it matter when they were already dead?
“Bring me a warmed bottle of liquor, a rice cake, and some fine cloth to wrap it in. Wait just one hour, and I’ll stop the barbarians from pillaging Northsweden.”
Back to the main point.
Even confined as I was, I’d demonstrated knowledge of the enemy’s strength. I’d laid all my cards on the table.
Now it was up to Darius and Deia.
“Bullshit.”
Predictably, Deia refused.
“How can I trust that? Even the family head lost to them, and you think you can stop them alone? With liquor and a rice cake? You planning to share a drink and make friends?”
“......”
“Where’d you learn to act so cool...”
Deia snapped in frustration and turned to request aid from the surrounding nobles again.
But Darius, still bedridden, grabbed her wrist.
“As family head, I order you. Go and take responsibility for your words, Deius.”
“You’ve lost your mind!?”
Deia yanked her hand free and screamed in fury. Her voice cracked as she spat out her rebuke.
“Who cares about some border count title! You’d sacrifice the people still holding out in their hometowns, trusting us?”
“If he’s speaking so confidently, he must have a plan.”
“You don’t know who he is? It’s Deius! The wastrel who comes home at dawn reeking of women and booze, then staggers out by evening!”
“......”
“You’re not trusting Deius right now. You’re just clinging to some miracle! What’s that different from kneeling and praying to the gods with barbarians at the door, swords in hand!?”
Deia’s glaring eyes brimmed with tears. I could feel how dearly she cherished Northsweden.
That was why I turned and headed for the door.
“I’ll depart in ten minutes. Prepare.”
I left only a curt command for the servants.
“Hey! Hey! Argh!”
Deia’s scream echoed behind me. Begging her to trust me wasn’t what I needed to do now.
Deius had been too much of a scumbag for that. Words alone lacked credibility with people.
I had to show her with actions.
Now was the time to prove it with results.
Ten minutes later.
My eyes met those of the servants waiting at the family entrance.
One of the maids cautiously held out a bundle wrapped in fine cloth.
I took it, straightened my clothes.
I’d changed into a thick coat for the climb, and in my hand was a staff far beyond my current magical prowess.
‘I’ll need the staff since I’m climbing the mountain.’
It was more likely to serve as a hiking stick than a tool for spells.
As I tapped the ground with its tip, Deia approached from behind, her eyes full of resentment.
Her red-rimmed eyes suggested she’d cried quite a bit afterward.
Now, exhausted, she just breathed heavily.
I met her gaze and took a step closer.
“If I don’t return in an hour, contact Tolkin and Count Herameus for reinforcements.”
“You bastard! Just say you can’t do it! Do you know how many heads will roll if that request is delayed by an hour?!”
“I’ll succeed.”
I was certain.
I had full confidence.
I’d only said it because she looked so anxious, but it clearly wasn’t the answer she wanted.
How to handle this relationship.
Then, a sudden thought crossed my mind.
“......If.”
I looked down at Deia and made my request.
“If I resolve this.”
It might come off forceful, but creating the opportunity was key.
“Five minutes a day.”
I gave her a faint smile.
Smiling wasn’t easy, but I’d practiced once when parting from my fiancée, so it came out decently enough.
“Give me just five minutes each day.”
“......What?”
Deia’s eyes widened in confusion, as if doubting what she’d heard.
Seizing the moment, I reached out and gently wiped the tears from her eyes.
“That would be more than enough reward for me.”
That was all I had to say.
I turned and headed out. The servants bowed deeply to me—insufficient, unworthy me—as I departed.
A fierce wind blew, and February snow began to fall over Northsweden.
*
I climbed the Northsweden Mountains.
I knew the paths were well-maintained, but I didn’t follow them. Instead, I scaled the rugged slopes.
Branches scratched at me with every step, and knee-deep snow piled softly.
Not exactly the dignified appearance of someone who’d marched out so boldly.
[Are you alright?]
Scrall, the ghost butler who’d followed me.
He’d said he could reach the mountains, so he trailed behind.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
I could handle basic magic, so a warming spell kept my body heat steady. I wasn’t cold.
It burned mana across my whole body.
Terribly inefficient and rarely used, but floating a fireball would draw too much attention.
[Planning a surprise attack?]
“No, I can’t stop the barbarians with my skills.”
[What? But that means......]
Surprised by words at odds with my display back at the manor, Scrall faltered. But I calmly continued the ascent.
I was climbing the mountains now, and I might soon reach the outpost held by the barbarians.
But they weren’t my goal.
Grrr.
“......!”
A jolt rocked my body. The air trembled, warping the surroundings.
Even ghostly Scrall felt it and startled, looking around. I extended a hand to stop him.
“Return to the manor, Scrall.”
[But......]
“The one we’re about to meet won’t want you here.”
Scrall looked puzzled, but I stood firm without retracting the order. He bowed deeply and vanished.
[I pray for your safe return.]
His voice faded into the wind.
Then.
Grrowl!
A thunderclap rang in my ears.
I instinctively furrowed my brow, but the corners of my mouth lifted slightly.
“I’m relieved you remember me.”
Across the ridge, beyond the peak.
Not Pindenai’s blood-red eyes, but sapphire-blue ones.
Black stripes on white fur, long fangs.
The white tiger stood on all fours, gazing down at me imperiously.
I cleared the snow around me with magic, knelt, spread the fine cloth on the ground, and laid out the liquor and rice cake.
Thank goodness Pindenai hadn’t descended the mountain yet.
Not just any soldier, but as a “comrade” in the resistance called Scrap Merchants, they’d chosen to let her recover her strength here. I was grateful for that judgment.
Thanks to her staying in the mountains.
I could borrow this one’s power.
The border count protecting the northern lands, the Verdi Family—they couldn’t even approach.
The true master of these mountains, who had lived here for hundreds, thousands of years.
I bowed my head to him.
“I greet the Mountain Lord.”