Chapter 32
Chapter 32
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: Patrol Mission
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“Those damn Cligrove bastards...”
Lately, the taverns in the Sarisa Count's territory had become packed with men who did nothing but sit around. To be precise, they were men who had only recently lost their jobs.
The count's domain, battered and defeated in the war, could no longer sustain an army of its former size. Of course, far more soldiers had died or been maimed, but even the survivors were too much to maintain.
The ranks varied widely—from regular infantry to Vanguard Swordsmen and even Elite Swordsmen. The knights couldn't even pay their retainers properly and were forced to sell off their equipment, so it was only natural that both elite and common soldiers alike would lose their positions.
Thus, they harbored far more resentment toward Cligrove than toward Count Sarisa, who had dismissed them. And the count knew exactly how to exploit that. He had found a way to address both the discontent of his former soldiers and the territory's law enforcement issues simultaneously.
“I've heard there's a lot of dissatisfaction among the unemployed soldiers.”
With his black hair, black eyes, and a sinister, snake-like appearance, Count Sarisa sat in his now far more shabby office. The ambitious man of old was long gone. The knight before him nodded at the count's weary words.
“Yes, my lord. The silver lining is that they're directing their grudge toward Cligrove... but I can't say how long that will last.”
The count silently listened to the knight before turning his gaze out the window.
“How's the public order?”
“It's holding for now, but trouble could erupt at any moment. With so few jobs available, they're all just loitering in taverns or on the streets...”
“.......”
The count fell silent. The massive war reparations and military restrictions had dealt him a devastating blow. All he had left were weapons... Wait—weapons? A promising idea began to form in the count's mind.
Weapons in abundance, soldiers turned into burdensome unemployed vagrants, and vengeance against Cligrove.
“Sir Harold.”
He quietly summoned the knight. Soon after, the former soldiers who had once filled Sarisa Castle vanished somewhere.
*****
“That's how I obtained this hide, my lady.”
The werewolf I'd killed had been neatly skinned. Some of its flesh and bones had been sold to some mage or whatever he was, since they had uses for them, and the hide had been tanned and dried properly. Today, I brought it to the lady's office.
Nothing major—just that she'd heard I'd taken down a werewolf single-handedly and wanted to see the hide, so she summoned me.
The silver-furred pelt gleamed flawlessly, practically begging to be made into a cloak for me. Honestly, it was the most beautiful magic beast hide I'd ever hunted... which made me a bit worried she might take a liking to it.
The lady was a woman first and foremost, after all. If she asked for it, I'd hand it over with a cheerful “Of course!” But surely she wouldn't just take it for free?
“May I touch the hide for a moment?”
“Haha, of course.”
I smiled, but inside I was anxious. Was she serious? Still, watching her stroke the hide with a smile was truly beautiful. If I were a typical male noble from this isekai world, I might have just offered it up without a second thought.
“It's so soft. Is there really a magic beast hide this smooth?”
“The feline varieties usually have hides like this, my lady.”
This hide was the finest I'd ever seen—more beautiful, softer, and tougher than any other. How tough? The Vanguard Swordsmen I'd fought couldn't even dent it with their blades and were left dumbfounded. Skinning it had been a real chore.
“It would make a fine cloak. I heard it even blocked swords.”
“That seems the best use for it without wasting the hide.”
“Hehe...”
The lady narrowed her eyes and smiled at my words.
“Perfect timing. I have a gift for you.”
“A gift, you say?”
What could it be? I soon found out as she led me to where a full suit of armor lay neatly arranged.
“It took a while to have it fitted to your size. It's not knight-quality, but what do you think?”
It wasn't full plate mail or anything like that. That would have taken three or four months, not just ten days—and I wasn't in a position to wear something like that anyway.
Instead, there was a sturdy-looking breastplate paired with chainmail, gauntlets, tassets and a fauld to protect the thighs and hips, and a helmet—not some cheap kettle hat, but an armet that no ordinary weapon could dent.
“Try it on.”
As I donned the armor at her command, a heavy sensation enveloped me. It felt strange, but at least I wouldn't be getting stabbed and screaming my way to an early grave anymore.
I ran my hand over the brand-new, gleaming armor and bowed my head in gratitude to the lady. It was better than I'd expected... Just then, she smiled slyly and said,
“Don't thank me so profusely. You're my bodyguard and Vanguard Swordsman captain now, aren't you? Taking such good care of you means I plan to work you even harder.”
“Haha! Use me whenever you like!”
My reflection in the mirror looked incredibly cool in the armor, so I was more than happy with her promise to “use” me. If this was the kind of gift involved, she could work me to the bone anytime.
The next day.
“It's the magic beast hunter...”
“The one who beat a werewolf to death bare-handed...”
“I heard he didn't beat it—he hugged it and snapped its back.”
That was the chatter I overheard while walking through the city in my new armor.
Ever since that day, people in the city whispered whenever they saw me—of course, never to my face, given my noble status. They called me everything from “Magic Beast Hunter” and “Werewolf Slayer” to weird ones like “Cligrove's Grizzly Bear” or “Quarter Ogre.”
“Wooow! I'm Baron Lucas Kyle!”
Even kids playing nearby shouted my name. In just one night, I'd become the talk of the town. It reminded me of back in the village—how everyone's faces lit up the first time I brought in a magic beast.
When I returned to the barracks, the swordsmen training as a group rushed over to me.
“Captain's back!”
The defiance in their eyes had long vanished. If anything, their gazes were starting to feel burdensome. Then their eyes shifted from my face to my body.
“What's that? Did you get issued new gear?”
“Whoa, that doesn't look like standard issue. That's from Ashwick Forge—not our military smithy.”
They fawned over the armor excitedly. They had solid equipment too, but in terms of overall quality, it was leagues below. Just like on Earth, military-issue gear here was synonymous with cheap crap.
“Enough staring. You'll wear it out.”
They burst into laughter at my joke—whether genuine or just because I was the captain, who knows. Just then, Willum rushed in from outside the barracks.
“Sir Lucas!”
“Sir Willum? What brings you here...”
The middle-aged man, who seemed to visit more often lately, gave me a reproachful look.
“Come on, no need to be so formal between us, right?”
“Well, you only seem to come here when you need something...”
He cleared his throat awkwardly and grinned sheepishly.
“Heh heh... Can't fool you, huh. Well, it's about...”
To sum up Willum's request: he wanted a few Vanguard Swordsmen to help with patrol duties normally handled by the guards—specifically, patrols outside the city.
These were usually cavalry or guard duties, but the cavalry had been wiped out in the last war, and the guards were stretched thin maintaining order after the werewolf incident.
On top of that, quite a few guards had died in that event, leaving gaps in their ranks. Overwhelmed, he'd thought of me.
“So, could you lend a hand? Not asking for free, of course. If your swordsmen cause any trouble later, I'll smooth it over for you.”
It was a sweet deal. With my hot-blooded subordinates, having someone cover for their mishaps was tempting. We'd been incident-free so far, but who knows when alcohol-fueled antics might cause issues.
That could reach the lady's ears and ding my performance record. If I wanted to hear “Sir Lucas Kyle, Baron” someday, I needed to sweat the small stuff...
“Haha, what are friends for? Happy to help.”
I shook his hand with a friendly smile.
“Village chief, everything alright here?”
“Oh yes, sir! Thanks to the great and honorable Count Cligrove's gracious care...”
Patrol duty was straightforward. We'd go village to village outside the city, check for nearby monsters or suspicious elements, and that was it.
Knights with their own fiefs had their own security, but most villages had to hire mercenaries if trouble arose.
Mercenaries cost money and weren't always reliable. But we were free. A hearty meal was enough to get them asking us for help whenever we passed through.
“We'll camp here tonight!”
As the sun began to set, I ordered the men to set up camp. One perk of being captain: exemption from all the tedious chores. Night watch? Fire-building? Cooking? All off-limits for me. Except I ended up building the fire and cooking anyway.
These guys were sword-swingers, not survivalists—they couldn't even start a proper fire.
Crackle—pop!
That night, the only sounds were the fire devouring logs and chirping crickets in the quiet darkness. As I slept with my eyes closed, someone gently called out.
“Captain... Captain...?”
I opened my eyes to see a swordsman crouched beside me, staring into the woods. The vibe was off.
“What's up?”
“There's someone suspicious scouting us out. What do we do?”
Suspicious figure? I glanced where he was looking and caught a glint in the darkness. Too dark to make out a shape, but that shimmer was definitely metal reflecting light.
He must have spotted it and woken me. We had no bows, no way to engage. Best to just watch and see if they tried anything.
The next day, visiting a nearby village revealed what it had been.
“Oh, sirs! Please, help us!”