Together We Live, Together We Die
On the eve of our departure, I made a final check of my condition. The most powerful weapon I possessed was my knowledge of the original game. You could call it the power to see the future — and it was identical to the power of the Solar Medal I went around claiming to wield.
Of course, I couldn't swear that the future I knew was set in stone. Just as a butterfly's tiny wingbeat could birth a raging storm, even my smallest actions might send what was coming veering off course. I had killed this world's protagonist, and I had no idea what kind of shockwave that would send crashing into my path.
Well. There's no point thinking about it.
I would carve out the future with the power and knowledge I already had. That was my job now. And my body was in peak condition. After sex with Luna, Sera, and the maid Priscilla, a fierce vitality burned through my flushed flesh.
The Synchronization Rate system keeps my stats low, but I cover the gap with a wide range of skills.
At a Synchronization Rate of only 40%, my Strength sat at 82, with every other stat hovering around 50. Thanks to my SSS-Rank skill, Elemental Mastery, however, my actual combat power far exceeded those numbers.
I've got about 400 bonus points I could still invest… but I'll hold onto those.
The efficiency of bonus-point investment dropped exponentially as base stats rose. All of my base stats were already over 100, which meant ten bonus points for a single point of growth. Even if I poured every last bonus point I had into my stats, I'd only gain about 40. And because of the Synchronization Rate's curse, this body could only express 40% of those gains — a real-world increase of maybe sixteen points.
No point spreading a pittance like that around. Better to dump everything into whatever stat I need, the moment I need it.
In other words, those leftover points were my last insurance policy. Bonus-point investment was irreversible, so you couldn't be too careful. With my final inspection complete, I lay down on the bed and closed my eyes. A little excitement and a little tension settled companionably on my shoulders. I soon slipped into sleep. I couldn't remember the dream.
The next day, having finished inspecting the army's readiness, Count Coulomb summoned me. I wasn't the only one. Every mercenary and wandering knight he had personally recruited was gathered in one place. All of them, I was told, had been sought out by the Count himself. He'd come looking for me in person partly because the situation was urgent — but it also seemed to be simply his nature.
The experts he'd assembled numbered about thirty, including my own party. Looking over the faces in the room, I saw no shortage of battle-hardened veterans. And every last one of them had the same look in their eyes: respect.
I didn't need to ask who that look was for. It was Count Coulomb. Even I had to admit he was a man of remarkable character. That he'd been able to gather these people at all was clearly a testament to that character.
"I am truly grateful that you have come, despite these difficult times, to lend me your aid. The situation is grim, I will not deny it — but if the people gathered in this room join their strength, even Count Ernest's treacherous host will be powerless against us. I place my unwavering faith in your power and your wisdom."
Count Coulomb launched into a speech as dry as a school principal's morning address. I understood he was trying to raise morale, but I couldn't see it working.
Contrary to my expectations, though, the other mercenaries' eyes shone bright. I let his words wash over me with bored indifference.
"Allow me, then, to introduce my sons. They are fine warriors who will fight alongside you in this territorial war. Hendrik, Dedric. Step forward and greet our honored guests."
A noble humble enough to call mercenaries "honored guests" was a rare breed on this continent. Admiring his character, I turned my gaze to the two young men standing behind the Count.
Count Coulomb's two sons came forward. They were brothers a year apart — the elder Hendrik Coulon, the younger Dedric Coulomb. Both had inherited their father's considerable frame.
"Hendrik Coulon. I'll be commanding the territorial army's vanguard. I may be lacking, but I ask for your guidance."
"Dedric Coulomb. I have been assigned as operations staff. I will do everything in my power not to be a burden to you all."
Both of them possessed a humility unbefitting of nobility. There was no question their father's upbringing was responsible. Like father, like son. I looked at the two brothers and recalled what I knew from the original game.
The younger, Dedric, was an ally who fought the territorial war alongside the original protagonist, Jean. For all his size, he was a gentle soul, and well-disposed toward Jean.
Dedric Coulomb was the character who taught players that the nobles of this world were easy marks. Events involving Count Coulomb himself were rare in the original game, but events involving his second son — who was the Count's spitting image — were plentiful.
The elder, Hendrik, barely came up in the game, so I didn't know much about him. He appeared charging with the vanguard, and you could fight alongside him as an allied character, but he had no particular connection to Jean. Even the setting materials had nothing on him beyond the fact that he was Count Coulomb's eldest son.
"My two sons are young, but in fighting spirit and courage they yield to no one. We will win. The goddess of victory will smile upon us!"
Count Coulomb had only these two sons. I wasn't the only one who knew it — the other mercenaries began to murmur as they looked at the boys. Sending every one of your children to the front. The implications of that were enormous.
"What's he going to do if something happens to both of them…"
The mercenary beside me muttered under his breath. He was right. If both sons died, Count Coulomb would lose his heirs in a single stroke. Even a victory in the territorial war would mean nothing if the succession was wiped out — the fallout would be catastrophic.
"I can see from your faces what troubles you."
"My lord. Sending both young masters to the battlefield is reckless. Should anything befall one of them, the other must remain to carry on the house."
A middle-aged mercenary with a thin jaw offered the counsel. Count Coulomb nodded and took the words in stride.
"You may well be right. But how could I hide my sons behind safe castle walls, then order the soldiers who have taken up sword and shield for my sake to advance into the jaws of death? You there. Do you have a family?"
The Count pointed at the mercenary who had spoken. The man nodded, his expression stiff.
"A wife sly as a fox, and two daughters gentle as rabbits."
"And you there! Is there someone waiting for you at home?"
"I live with my elderly mother."
"Just so. Every man in this room is someone's husband, someone's father, someone's son. You have all gathered here to shatter the calamity that has fallen upon this territory — and you would have me play the coward? Hendrik! Dedric! Is that what I taught you?"
"No, sir! You've always told us that if you would command another, you must first be willing to be commanded yourself!"
"Yes. That has always been our house's golden precept."
Count Coulomb poured out the hot breath of his heart, a torrent of passionate energy.
"Waaaaaah!"
Applause erupted of its own accord. His speech struck the mercenaries to the core; it was more than enough to raise their spirits.
I still had my doubts about whether Count Coulomb was a great leader. I still didn't think his choice to leave no heir behind was the right one. He had relied on emotion over reason, and papered over discipline with heart.
He was by no means an ideal ruler. But he was a man who could laugh and weep with the people of his land. That I would have to bury a leader like that with my own hands… it stung, just a little.
Don't hate me too much. I'll build a paradise on this land in your place.
After the brief assembly, Count Coulomb announced the hour of departure. We would take a final banquet at the castle at noon, then march immediately. I liked the phrase "final banquet." For some of us, it really would be.
Before we marched, I extracted information on Hendrik and Dedric through Priscilla, a maid of House Coulomb. She had been born and raised in the Count's household, a maid of fierce loyalty — but once she'd had a taste of my cock, there was no way she wouldn't become a home for it. She spilled everything she knew. There is no intelligence more reliable than what you get from the help.
Hendrik and Dedric, the Count's two sons, were nobles of a reputation nearly matching their father's. Trained as knights from childhood, they were outstanding martial artists, and just men who never treated commoners with contempt.
Compared to his younger brother Dedric, however, Hendrik had an emotional streak. He had married a fallen noble's daughter against his father's wishes. Dedric, by contrast, was even more cautious and deep-thinking than Count Coulomb himself. Since Dedric appeared as Jean's supporting character, I knew his capabilities well.
Which is why he's the one I have to deal with first.
The plan to seize House Coulomb was simple. First, Count Coulomb and both of his sons had to die. That was the content of the quest I currently held, as well.
Once both sons were dead, the countship would pass automatically to Count Coulomb's wife, Countess Rienner Coulon. The Count had no brothers — or rather, they had all died young.
If I married Rienner, the countship would be mine. She was a gifted alchemist, a beautiful woman who retained the looks of someone in her mid-twenties despite being in her mid-fifties. A beauty more than worthy of becoming a home for my cock.
According to the original game, unlike the easygoing Count Coulomb, she was a woman of fierce ambition. When the Count was defeated in the territorial war and died on the battlefield, she fled without a backward glance.
She never appeared again after that, so the details were unclear, but from conversations with Dedric you could gather that she was, as befit an alchemist, highly skilled in pharmacology, and learned enough to teach her two sons the art of rulership in their father's place. Her hunger for power, however, was so strong that she had openly demanded the future position of regent from her own sons.
While I was turning these plans over in my mind, the hour of departure arrived. After a lavish banquet — by this world's standards — every soldier save the bare minimum needed to hold the castle walls assembled before the lord's keep. Astride a white horse clad in gleaming golden barding, Count Coulomb began his departure speech before the ranks.
Did we really need to bother with this pointless theater? I was so bored I couldn't hear a word he said, and the other soldiers seemed too tense to hear him either. After rambling on for quite some time, Count Coulomb drew his sword, pointed it toward Count Ernest's domain, and roared.
And so the territorial war began.