Chapter 35
Chapter 35
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 35
Chapter Title: Victory and Rewards (2)
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Dalton led me into the banquet hall, and all the high-ranking nobles present broke into bright smiles to welcome me.
"So you're Martin Meyer? Younger and more handsome than I imagined."
"I heard you sliced through the enemy lines with overwhelming strength, so I pictured some muscle-bound brute."
"They said you were a madman who charged in alone with sheer grit and turned the tide. But handsome too? Deus must really favor you."
When receiving praise like this, the key was to strike the perfect balance—not too arrogant, not overly humble.
Act too cocky, and you'd earn resentment. Play too modest, and you'd spawn idiots who undervalue you.
Confident, but not so much that it repelled them.
"I'm still very inexperienced, but with the great Captain Dalton believing in me and pushing me forward, I simply gave it my all. And it feels like Deus answered my call."
The Count, seated at the center of the grand hall in the prime spot, responded.
"It's no easy feat for someone your age to possess such exceptional swordsmanship, courage, humility, and devout faith all at once."
I bowed my head in respect at the Count's words.
"Your praise is too generous, my lord Count."
"Generous? Nonsense. Come here. I called you up so I could personally pour you a drink."
A murmur of shock rippled through the crowd at the Count's declaration.
Those at the lower tables grumbled that it was too much honor for a mere Squad Leader from a mercenary band, not even a knight.
"Even so, he's just a Squad Leader from some mercenary company—not even a knight. Isn't this a bit excessive?"
"Pouring a drink is as good as acknowledging him as a knight, isn't it? Even with his great exploits, he'd need to be at least a Hundred-Man Leader..."
"If we were the ones pouring, fine. But the Count doing it himself feels a tad over the top..."
One knight at the high table snorted at their chatter.
"What do a bunch of shovel-wielders know to yap about? Don't you realize elevating Martin Meyer is the real way to raise our own honor right now?"
Ignoring the fuss, I strode straight to the Count as he beckoned.
Whether the Count chose to pour for me was his prerogative. Refusing it would be like picking a fight.
As I approached, he handed me a pre-prepared silver goblet.
Then he tilted a bottle of wine himself, filling it so full it nearly overflowed.
"Now, everyone, raise your glasses."
At his words, everyone stood and lifted their glasses in unison.
"To the hero who defended the honor of the House of Count Zaltzheim—to his future! Cheers!"
With that, everyone including me shouted "Cheers!" and drained their glasses in a flash.
"I shouldn't keep a young man fatigued from yesterday's heroics tied up with this old fogey too long. Your seat's ready over there. Eat, drink, and enjoy yourself. You're the star of this banquet today."
"Such undeserved honor."
The Count clapped my shoulder.
"Undeserved? If anything, I'm grateful. Off you go."
I'd been inwardly dreading that he'd drag out some annoyingly prying question like, "What have you been up to all these years to hone such skill?"
Thank goodness I didn't have to stand there spilling my life story.
Only once I sat at my seat did the sheer opulence of the grand banquet hall truly sink in.
Silk tapestries emblazoned with the crests of the House of Count Zaltzheim and its vassal families. Desks of fine ebony wood. Men in lavish silk garments and beauties in stunning gowns.
'This is on another level from what you see in dramas or games.'
As I momentarily lost myself taking it all in, a girl's voice came from beside me.
"Sir Martin, Sir Martin."
I might've been used to it back when I was a knight, but now that I'd quit all that for mercenary life, who was calling me "Sir"?
I turned toward the voice and saw a lovely girl in a dress standing by my side.
"Hello, Sir Martin. I'm Lily Northheim, second daughter of the Northheim family, which serves Count Zaltzheim."
The girl called Lily grabbed the hems of her skirt and dipped her head in greeting.
Tedious as it was, I stood out of courtesy and bowed in return.
"Martin Meyer, Squad Leader of the White Beard Mercenary Corps. It's an honor beyond words that a noble lady of the Northheim family would speak to me."
Lily smiled prettily and replied.
"Not at all, Sir Martin. I was simply curious about a knight of such fine swordsmanship and courage, so I came over."
"Is that so? I'm embarrassed by your interest in someone as unremarkable as me."
Embarrassed my ass—this was obvious.
The Count calling me up himself would rub it in the faces of the knights who'd botched the battle. So he stayed hands-off.
But his underlings were desperate to snag me, planning to offer their daughters and secure a talented knight under their banner to expand their influence.
On the surface, Baron Tilen's personal letter inviting me under his command might seem better treatment. But all things considered, this was far superior.
Marry into a vassal family, have the Count guarantee the union and dub you a knight—solidifying your position.
'Ugh, damn it. Even here, this crap?'
Despite the festive banquet, I couldn't relax.
"Oh, Lady Seline. Are you here for Sir Martin's tales too?"
"Yes, Lady Lily. The exploits of a brave knight always set my heart racing..."
"Lady Katrin and Lady Elis are here too."
Lily giggled behind her fan at the sudden influx of rivals.
"I got here first, ladies. Kindly wait your turn."
Fools might call this a harem setup and drool over it. Harem my ass.
This was pure chaos.
'Miss Karin and Lucia... I wanna see them.'
"I don't think my feats were all that impressive, but I'll gladly share. No need to fight over it."
"Really?"
And so, for the better part of a half-day—while Captain Dalton and the vice-captain gorged on delicacies—I couldn't touch the feast before me.
'...Damn it, this is too much.'
**
Meanwhile, Karin was eavesdropping on Martin and the noble ladies' conversation from outside the grand banquet hall.
"Sir Martin, you have such great strength, yet you're not burly like my father or brothers. How do you train to get a physique like that?"
Karin snorted at the words.
Noble ladies raised like pampered jewels in their families wouldn't care about how men trained their bodies.
It was obvious—they were flattering him, tailoring their talk to topics men liked, putting on airs to seduce him.
'What a slut.'
Of course, if this was the harem-building fame-chaser Martin had aimed for, she'd think he'd earned his spot up there.
Admirable, even. But for some reason, it left her feeling wistful.
Yet Martin showed little interest in the girls subtly propping up their chests or batting their eyes coyly.
Karin felt inexplicably pleased watching him.
"Is that so? I've been built this way since I was young. Back then, I envied sturdy builds like Sir Northheim's and was disappointed no matter how much I trained, since I stayed like this."
"Really? But I prefer men like you over the overly burly types..."
Karin agreed with that.
Men like Dalton or Vice-Captain Heinz, rugged and wild, weren't bad.
But handsome faces with solid builds were far more appealing.
"Sir Martin, what kind of woman do you like? Outgoing types? Quiet ones who quietly care for you? Or do you not just say 'pretty ones' like other men?"
She'd only overheard by chance after taking a wrong turn, but Karin soon found herself perking up her ears.
"I've wandered so long that more than that... I want someone who shares my goals and walks the path with me."
Karin felt a flicker of hope at his words.
She'd bolted for freedom, but five years as a mercenary had worn her down to compromise with reality.
Watching him bulldoze through trials with his own strength and will was thrilling in itself.
'If it's that much, I could easily...'
The thought made Karin blush and cover her mouth without realizing.
The ladies squealed at his straightforward yet profound words—far from the cheesy lines poets taught noble suitors.
Until now, it had been political maneuvering to snag a handsome, battle-proven man for family gain.
Now, they dropped the pretense, drawn to Martin Meyer the man, like any girls.
"That's so cool, Sir Martin. I want to meet someone like that too."
"It's like a fairy-tale romance."
"I'd love to share that kind of love with such a wonderful man!"
As a fellow woman, Karin understood their feelings.
A man and woman advancing together toward shared dreams—pure romance.
"Have you ever had that kind of love, Sir Martin?"
Martin gave an awkward smile at the question.
"Not yet. But there is someone who might walk that path with me."
His words were a rejection of the Count's offer.
But to Karin, they felt oddly directed at her, leaving her subtly embarrassed.
Her cheeks flushed, her heart beat a bit faster—but probably just from the cringe.
"...That idiot Martin, always so sentimental."
But it wasn't bad. No, it was good.