Chapter 71
Chapter 71
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 71
Chapter Title: Departure
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What's with this noble? Hilia thought as she glared at Kyle's back while he walked ahead. She'd haggled him down by even a single pound, but this guy was trying to squeeze her even further.
"Should I have gone to some other noble? No... If a noble came to hire me directly, their army probably wouldn't be much to speak of, right...? To avoid getting found out by Father, it's best to join the smallest possible force..."
At least it was a relief that no one suspected her true identity. She'd avoided her usual refined vocabulary, deliberately using coarse, commoner speech, which caused a bit of a delay in her responses—but that couldn't be helped.
She chuckled inwardly at the thought that if her identity had been revealed, this mere viscount—a pathetic noble by her standards—wouldn't even dare look her in the eye. Regardless of how it had happened, things had gone her way: she was heading to the battlefield, just as she'd wanted.
It was unexpected that her employer, this viscount, had come to the subjugation force alone without even a servant. But the fact that she could claim an entire small tent—meant for four soldiers—for herself suited her perfectly.
"Can you cook?"
Hilia shook her head at Kyle's question. As the pampered jewel of a duke's household, when would she have ever cooked? She'd only ever been served.
"What about laundry, then?"
Hilia shook her head side to side again. Kyle sighed at her response. The gear was cheap for its quality, which was nice, but it looked like he'd have to teach her from scratch.
"Well... you can learn that stuff gradually. For now, the basics: bring me water for washing up in the morning. You can handle that, right?"
"Yes... I can do that..."
Her confident reply. But Kyle soon discovered that the mercenary he'd hired was an utter disaster of a valet.
"...Are you still sleeping?"
He'd told her to fetch washing water in the morning, but she slept later than her employer as a matter of course.
"What the hell is this made of?"
"Just like you said at first... grain flour and... jerky..."
The meal she'd prepared for breakfast was such a mess it deserved an apology to the ingredients.
"At least you're decent at this."
The one thing she did well was weapon maintenance. If Hilia had been a regular servant, she'd have been fired long ago, but luckily she'd been hired as a combat mercenary first and foremost, so it was overlooked.
Kyle was pretty lenient on that front too. Nobody starts out perfect. Practice makes perfect. He decided to train this young master in mercenary disguise from the ground up and make use of her.
"The most important part of cooking is tasting as you go. Not just dumping in salt blindly..."
The first thing he taught Hilia was cooking. Food affected combat strength alongside sleep, after all. Her initial attempt had been so oversalted it was inedible.
Hilia took a spoonful of the porridge Kyle made and marveled. It was completely different from her own—a meal worth eating.
"Ah..."
"Taste good?"
"Yes... Viscount, you... cook well..."
"This is basic of basics. Just mix in grain flour and ingredients, season properly, and anyone can do it."
While learning to cook, Hilia heard Kyle's story too. How he'd risen from mercenary to viscount through feats in war.
Hilia was genuinely impressed. Born the heir to the empire's greatest noble and power house, she knew how hard it was for a commoner to become a noble—even a viscount.
Stories of commoners becoming viscounts or counts belonged in hero tales. And his choice to join the campaign alone without bringing his troops? That was consideration for his territory's people in tough times. Worthy of respect, commoner or noble.
"Waking up early... it's a habit thing, so for a while, ask the Cligrove soldiers to help."
"Understood..."
And so began the mercenary life of the duke's former heir.
"Waaah!"
"Come back safe!"
"Show those barbarians what for!"
As the count's army, chosen as vanguard, assembled before the capital for departure, citizens atop the walls cheered wildly. And with such an exalted figure appearing—someone commoners might never glimpse in a lifetime—the excitement burned even hotter.
"This subjugation isn't just any war!"
The crown prince's speech began. Not just any war? As citizens puzzled over that, Alfred's voice boomed louder.
"It's a great holy war to show the northern barbarians who dare eye our empire the might of the empire and spread His Majesty's reign to the north!"
Holy war! A grand war proclaiming the empire's power! It might've been empty words otherwise, but with not tens of thousands but hundreds of thousands of soldiers before them, the visual impact sent the crowd into a frenzy.
"Long live the empire!"
"Long live His Majesty!"
Genuine cheers erupted from the citizens. The holy war to crush those arrogant barbarians had begun. The northern savages would beg for their lives under the empire's blade of hundreds of thousands! And not just that—countless elf slaves would be captured too.
"Bring back lots of elves!"
"One slave per household era—let's go!"
Female elves' beauty was famed even in the empire, so to the citizens, the war's spoils already danced before their eyes. Whether those slaves would actually reach them? Who cared right now!
"Great citizens of the empire! Behold the empire's strength! They are the shield and sword defending the empire! Glory to those who carry the empire's might to the north!"
"Glory!"
As the vanguard set off, the capital turned festive. The main force hadn't even departed yet, but the mood already declared empire victory. Separately, though, House Northmund was in chaos.
"Lady!!"
The duke's pampered jewel had vanished overnight. Despite the mansion's guards on duty!
"How the hell do you manage your men?!"
In this unprecedented crisis, the viscount summoned barons and knights, questioning their fitness for title. Insulted, the barons and knights fumed and hauled in the duke's army officers, sergeants major, and swordsmen, chewing them out.
Finally, the officers, sergeants, and swordsmen—who got reamed until their shins gave out—gathered the duke's soldiers with grim faces.
"You worthless bread-wasters! The duke's guards, with eyes wide open, couldn't even spot the lady leaving?!"
"Soup not going down your throats? It did? Fine! Try crossing the Styx today!"
Not just the guards on duty the night Hilia vanished, but their comrades too—all kowtowed on the ground and took beatings. Even knights paled, running every which way; the urgency was self-evident.
"Bow those heads proper!"
Indiscriminate scoldings, violence, and shouts swept the duke's house, but the issue remained unsolved. They'd scoured the capital, yet no Hilia. They huddled to discuss countermeasures.
"Report to the duke... Aaaagh!"
Anyone suggesting they tell the duke got reamed by superiors again.
"F-First... impose a capital blockade..."
"You too—bow!"
The lunatic suggesting blockade joined the guards, head to the ground, sharing the beatings.
"What is this commotion?!"
"Duchess..."
The duchess arrived late to the mansion's uproar; all nobles rolled eyes, gauging each other. At their sight, she glared fiercely and shouted.
"Even I, the lady of the house, am to be kept in the dark?!"
"That's not it, but..."
"Then what is it? Speak!"
"The... lady has... disappeared."
The truth finally reached the duchess via the nobles; she clutched her forehead and collapsed weakly. She regained senses much later, then spoke in a feeble voice.
"I fear this will distract the duke from the war... Don't tell him."
Everyone in the duke's house sighed in relief. They'd bought time until war's end. A wise choice—if he'd known, the duke would've danced with swords in the house's midst, war be damned.
The vanguard that departed earlier had already vanished beyond the horizon. Watching them, Lenia ordered preparations to move the army anytime.
"When do you think we'll depart?"
"Vanguard's gone, so soonest tomorrow, latest within three days."
The vanguard's job: scout elf movements and forces ahead, pre-select campsites for the main force. Cut off enemy scouts to sow confusion.
While watching the vanguard, Lenia's gaze turned to me. Another strategy meeting today?
"Oh, and... the duke's holding a strategy meeting again today. Join us."
"Yes, Lady."
Another meeting... I grumbled inwardly but let Rahil help me don armor for it.
Why grumble? The duke's strategy meetings were excruciatingly boring. They started tolerable, but held several times a day, they devolved into repetitive loops of the same talk.
Even nobles seemed bored, but the duke insisted one could learn from trash heaps, calling meetings endlessly.
"Another meeting today?"
"..."
"Tough luck."
Even Edward pitied me; the duke's meetings were now shunned among nobles. Early on, bootlickers volunteered, but now even army-leading nobles scraped excuses to skip.
"Quite a few empty seats today."
"Many claiming illness..."
A noble excused to Duke Northmund, but he showed no displeasure—in fact, he seemed pleased. He beckoned a nearby knight and issued orders.
"This'll do. Baron Ashington, note down these men's houses and names. They'll be key in my war."
"Yes, Your Grace."
As the baron listed names, the duke smiled.
"Thanks for enduring those boring, nutrient-free meetings. With so many in this war, I had to sift the chaff."