Chapter 46
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 46
Chapter Title: Prisoner's Ransom
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"This man was definitely Ernst's maternal uncle, right?"
"By blood, yes. Though he's the son of a concubine, not the legal wife."
Sir Heinrich answered.
"His name was... one of Mueller's five fingers. Gerhardt, was it?"
"Georg!"
The bound man bellowed.
What I said knowing full well, of course.
Even dragged in tied up like this. Georg lifted his head and glared at me. Bloodshot eyes.
"Kid. Do you even know what you've done? House Mueller won't let this slide."
"I'm sure they won't."
"Young Master Ernst will be the same. When he finds out what you've done..."
"He'll find out."
His jaw twitched.
"Even your father the Duke can't overlook this. No matter how much he favors his bastard..."
Instead of answering, I looked down at him.
"You've captured a legion commander. A commander of the Empire's regular army. Do you grasp how big a deal this is?"
I didn't open my mouth.
"Answer me!"
He roared. Spittle flew. Veins bulged on his neck.
"When Ernst, your eldest brother, killed his other siblings. What did Father do?"
"That's..."
"Did he punish him? Scold him? Or just let it slide?"
No answer.
"From what I know, nothing happened at all."
"A bastard and a legitimate heir are not the same."
He bared his teeth.
"A legitimate son killing bastards is just housekeeping. But a bastard touching the heir? That's rebellion."
By my reckoning, this man was a bastard too.
It was amusing coming from a fellow bastard. Maybe that's why he knew it so starkly.
Such thinking would hold true for most noble houses.
But.
"That man is Walter Krushtein. He rose from nothing on his own strength alone. He doesn't even acknowledge his children as his own unless they possess talent equal to his—or at least close to it."
That was the truth.
Nobles who rise by blood divide their children by blood. Legitimate and bastards. Purity of lineage.
Then a man who rises by ability?
The answer was obvious.
If you have the ability, you're his child. If not, you're trash.
So, am I a talented child?
By achievements alone, not bad.
For a ten-year-old, objectively decent.
Two problems, though.
First. My achievements aren't in swordsmanship or magic.
No one doubts a Swordmaster drawing his blade.
It's right there in front of them. A grand mage chanting a spell yields immediate, visible results.
A commander is different.
The fire attack succeeded. Why? Because I'm smart? Good terrain? Dumb enemies?
Win ten times, the eleventh might not repeat.
All past success could just be luck. That suspicion clings forever.
Ernst has middling talent for it, but he's still a swordsmanship genius.
His skill proves itself right before your eyes. Pick up the sword, and it's done.
Me?
I can't prove it that way. At least not the same way.
Second.
My gaze turned to the silver-haired girl.
Orc battle. Lize found the canyon intel.
Kuman Tribe battle. Lize suggested the decoy tactic.
Azure-crimson herb business. Lize discovered the same herbs on the plains.
What did I do?
Stamped approval. Sure, go ahead. That.
And this time.
Capturing the 6th Legion Commander happened while I was dancing and peddling drugs in the capital.
Lize alone.
Without me.
She proved it. That she doesn't need me.
But I wasn't Ernst.
When I learned that child racked up achievements without me.
Jealousy didn't rise.
Curiosity did.
How?
How did she pull it off?
6th Legion. Regular army. Trained soldiers. Veteran commander.
His skill was discussed on the same level as Sir Heinrich or Sir Wolfram.
And she captured him?
"Lize."
"Yes?"
"How'd you do it?"
Lize's head tilted slightly.
"What do you mean, young master?"
"That man. 6th Legion Commander. How'd you capture him?"
Lize nodded.
"That man was coming to attack our legion."
My eyes went to Georg.
The man who'd just been threatening, "House Mueller won't stand for this," grinding his teeth over "Young Master Ernst will find out."
Now his mouth was shut, head bowed.
The implication was clear.
He struck first.
The justification was on our side.
"You had plenty to say earlier."
Celine cut in. Arms crossed. Mocking tone.
Georg didn't respond.
Not even a courtroom, but invoking silence.
"Continue."
I turned back to Lize.
Lize nodded.
"First, we pretended to clear the way. Opened the gates without resistance. They occupied the commander's building. Thinking you'd be there."
I could roughly guess how it went.
"What'd you put in the building?"
"Packed it secretly with explosives and dry hay."
"Wait, you blew up the whole building?"
Celine's voice rose.
"Yes."
One word. Eyes didn't even flicker.
Gaze to Georg.
He'd entered that building and survived.
Either top-tier Sword Expert toughness. Or plain luck.
Back to Lize.
"After the explosion?"
"Right after, Kuman cavalry appeared."
"Kulluk Tribe?"
"Yes. 500 strong."
"Enemy reaction?"
"Panic. Formations collapsed. They chose retreat over fighting."
"Pursued?"
"No overdoing it. Just lured them, as ordered."
Resisted the temptation of chase.
"Their retreat path was set?"
"Of course. We planned it that way."
"Ambush?"
"Barrage."
Even dictated where they'd flee. Enemies thought they chose. Actually cornered.
"The legion commander?"
"Fell from his horse fleeing. Kuman cavalry took him alive."
"Casualties?"
"Some supply losses."
Lize counted on her fingers.
Whole building gone, supplies lost naturally.
"That's fine. Personnel?"
"Zero."
Short answer.
"For real?"
"Lucky. They fled. If they'd fought head-on, we'd have won, but not zero losses."
"Well done. Really well done. Supplies don't matter. Got plenty of money this time."
Lize bowed her head slightly.
Somewhere. Very faintly. Her lips seemed to curve up.
Looked around.
Soldiers lined up. Felt their gazes.
Respect.
Awe.
While their ten-year-old legion commander played in the capital, his subordinates captured a regular army legion commander.
Yet those eyes toward me made it seem like I'd done it all.
Amusing.
But no intent to correct it.
Lize's merits are mine anyway. Under my command.
"So. What about that guy?"
Celine cut in.
Gaze to Georg. Still bound, kneeling.
"What else? Take money and sell him."
**
A month flew by in the blink of an eye.
Money rolled in as azure-crimson herb sales hit stride.
Even pre-ransom spoils from negotiations were substantial.
Couldn't let hired mercenaries idle. Sent scouts daily.
Letter from House Mueller. Full of threats.
Returned it.
Came again. Returned again.
Third time, stopped.
They wanted Georg for free. Am I crazy?
In this world, prisoners are money.
Regular soldiers maybe not, but knights? Better alive and sold than dead.
Conversely, paying ransom means losing the war and getting bled dry too.
Not my problem.
"Movement from the Mueller side."
Turned from the window at Sir Heinrich's voice.
"What kind?"
"Trying to get the prisoner back through the Duke. Even sent a formal protest."
"To Father?"
"Yes."
A snicker escaped.
"They don't know Father well."
"They never have."
Sir Heinrich said.
"What'd it say?"
"A family member unjustly detained. Release immediately. Something like that."
"Unjustly?"
"Yes."
"They struck first."
"No mention."
Unbelievable. Leaned back in the chair.
"Father's response?"
"No reply yet. But..."
"But?"
"Has he ever intervened in his children's fights?"
"Never."
Short answer. Enough.
"So in your view, what's a fair ransom?"
"Around 4000 gold, I'd say."
The number stuck.
"Not bad."
"Fair for a legion commander."
Paused briefly.
"But do you know how much the merchant guild makes a month?"
"Not exactly."
"1500 gold."
Sir Heinrich's brow arched slightly.
"Three months' worth."
"Right. 4000 one-shot is fine. Not shocking, though. Plus, bear pelts and loot—though that's slowed lately."
Sir Heinrich nodded.
Of course, all Mueller property.
And they still think it was the Golden Bear Tribe.
Knock. Knock.
Conversation cut by the knock.
"Come in."
Door opened. A knight entered. Dust on his armor. Rushed over.
"Envoy arrived."
"Envoy?"
"About Legion Commander Georg. For ransom talks."
Sir Heinrich turned beside me. Our eyes met.
Formal protest to Father, and envoy to me simultaneously?
Handling a mess. Completely.
"But. Um..."
Knight's gaze dropped. Throat bobbed.
"Why stammer?"
"The envoy isn't from House Mueller."
"Then who?"
"The Golden Bear Tribe."