The Vain Noble's Charge
“It concerns Lord Orlando.”
“Orlando?”
“He intends to undertake a dangerous endeavor. I came to ask that you dissuade him, my lord.”
“What mischief has that boy gotten into this time…? Another woman?”
“It is not that. He appears to have no lady in his company of late.”
“Then what is it…?”
“He wishes to raise troops and join the bandit suppression. I, Nirgof, am deeply concerned that he may come to harm.”
“Hmm…” The lord gazed weakly at the ceiling before speaking again. “Would it not be a good thing if my son defended the territory…?”
“The timing is poor, my lord.” Nirgof wore a deliberately troubled expression. “Your own health is so frail. If anything were to befall Lord Orlando, who must act as your proxy, who would care for the family and the domain? I am gravely worried.”
As he spoke, he clasped the lord’s hand with both of his own. “Please, warn him against involving himself in such peril.”
“Hmph…” Lord Roton pondered for a moment, then parted his dry lips. “I rather think it would do the boy good to gain some experience in war… He used to despise the sword, yet now he volunteers to hunt bandits. It is almost heartening.”
Nirgof swallowed quietly, his plan thwarted. Lord Roton usually followed his counsel, but on matters concerning his son he grew obstinate and troublesome.
“Kuh…!” It was not the sound of death. At Nirgof’s subtle signal, the maid lying on the bed slipped beneath the covers and took the lord’s member into her mouth. As she began to suck in earnest, Lord Roton’s eyes widened and he gasped repeatedly.
“Kuh, kuhhh…! Y-young one… th-that feels good! Kuhhh…!”
Lord Roton moaned as though in pain, his face rapt with pleasure. Nirgof sneered inwardly. Use this chance to regain your youth.
Seizing the moment while pleasure clouded the old man’s judgment, Nirgof pressed on. “The bandits these days are said to be far better trained and armed than before. I beg you, stop Lord Orlando from marching. Battle experience is important, yet I believe we must not expose the sole heir of House Nobern to such danger.”
“Kuhhh…!” Lord Roton’s eyes rolled back as he trembled violently, spending himself forcefully into the maid’s mouth. Afterward, he looked at Nirgof with a drowsy expression.
“If I have one wish before I die…” he murmured, eyelids fluttering shut. “I want to see our Orlando return triumphant from war, standing tall… That is my only remaining desire… Kuh…”
Nirgof stared at the sleeping lord, brow furrowed. “Damn it.”
Four days had passed since Orlando declared before me that he would join the bandit suppression.
When dawn broke, our mercenary company, along with the Lion Heart Unit and the Blue Arrow Unit, marched out of the city gates to suppress the bandit band led by the scoundrel Gerduk.
The Blue Arrow Unit’s participation had been welcomed by the Lion Heart Unit, so they joined without issue. As the Lion Heart Unit had been dispatched from afar, local support for supplies and manpower was essential. The addition of the Blue Arrow Unit allowed for more stable troop management—an outcome worth celebrating.
“Why are there so few of you?”
While the three units advanced, Orlando stared in astonishment at our mercenary company—consisting only of Dana, Pasvachio, Unia, and myself. He had apparently been too busy ogling Adelia during the march from the city to notice until now, and only now did he tilt his head in confusion.
“These are not all your members, surely?”
“They are.” I answered lightly. “Including myself, the Kether Mercenary Group has four members in total.”
“Good heavens, truly? That is… surprising, if not shocking.”
Orlando’s expression was one of pure astonishment—whether genuine admiration or thinly veiled contempt for such a ragtag band, I could not tell. Seventy-odd Lion Heart soldiers. Three hundred Blue Arrow soldiers. Only four from the Kether Mercenary Group. Seeing our pitiful numbers seemed to fill Orlando with confidence.
“We will handle the fighting anyway, so rest easy. You need not participate, Captain Hyunwoo. Feel free to take it easy.”
With that bold remark, he turned his horse and rode away. Rather than outright disdain, his eagerness seemed born of Adelia’s proximity. He clearly wanted to impress her with a splendid display.
“When are we recruiting new members?” Unia asked suddenly from behind.
“When we start earning real money.”
“You already have plenty. Just hire them.” She chuckled. I answered with a light laugh of my own.
With the company so newly founded and revenue still low, hiring large numbers would make maintenance costs unsustainable. Reckless expansion would lead to deficits, forcing us to keep spending the money Phelton had left behind. I had no desire to keep drawing on those funds. From now on, I wanted the company’s operations to be self-sustaining, covering all expenses through its own profits.
With the money I currently held, I could easily hire thirty mercenaries. But I refused. Such spending was a sure path to ruin. Unless truly desperate, I would run the company solely on earnings from mercenary work. For the sake of disciplined, systematic financial management.
Around noon, we surrounded the mountain stronghold of Gerduk’s bandit band. The bandits had barred the gates and were prepared to hold out. From that moment, a struggle began over which unit would take the lead in the coming battle.
The Lion Heart Unit and the Blue Arrow Unit each stubbornly insisted on striking the enemy first. Our Kether Mercenary Group, far too small to compare, quietly stayed in the rear.
“You need only provide support! The bandit suppression is a special order from His Majesty the King, entrusted to our Lion Heart Unit!”
“Lady Adelia! Our forces outnumber yours by more than twofold! Are you telling three hundred soldiers to stand idle and suck their thumbs? It would be shameful to even speak of it!”
Both sides saw their honor at stake in whether they would be reduced to mere spectators. Adelia wanted to lead the battle herself, and so did Kurtars, commander of the Blue Arrow Unit that had marched with Orlando. Moreover, Kurtars seemed determined to prove that local troops were in no way inferior to those dispatched from the capital, repeatedly emphasizing the Blue Arrow Unit’s excellence.
The Blue Arrow soldiers shared the sentiment. They openly disparaged and envied the Lion Heart Unit, whose equipment and bearing were superior. In turn, the Lion Heart soldiers cast mocking glances at the Blue Arrow troops. It was an inevitable friction arising from their first joint operation.
“If you yield, we will grant you all the spoils.”
Orlando stepped in as a good-natured mediator, and Adelia finally relented. Sinclair’s counsel had played a part; she had quietly advised that yielding now would secure future cooperation from the Blue Arrow Unit.
Thus, the overall plan was as follows: the Blue Arrow Unit would lead the assault on the stronghold while the Lion Heart Unit blocked the escape routes outside and pursued any who fled. Our Kether Mercenary Group was tasked with eliminating the archers stationed in the watchtowers.
“Advance!”
With Orlando’s bold cry, the battle began. The moment he confidently charged at the forefront, a single arrow from the bandit lines pierced his forehead through his helmet. Orlando fell from his horse without so much as a scream.
I was somewhat taken aback by the sight of him collapsing. He had not seemed the sort to depart so easily, yet he had vanished in such a hollow fashion. Perhaps his overreaching ambition had indeed proven fatal. I offered him a respectful glance—not for his life, but for the manner of his death—and moved on. Having witnessed countless comrades fall during my time with Elk’s bandit band, Orlando’s death stirred little emotion in me.
The battle had begun, and screams of the dying echoed across the clear sky. I quickly set Orlando aside and focused on my assigned task. The Blue Arrow soldiers, however, appeared deeply shaken.
“Young master has fallen!”
“How dare they kill the young master!”
“Slaughter them all!”
Witnessing Orlando’s senseless death, the Blue Arrow troops were seized by fury and stormed the stronghold. Though the bandits could not match them, their leader Gerduk strode across the battlefield wielding a powerful bow imbued with magic.
“Kihihi! I bought this bow specially from a fortune-teller, knowing a day like this would come! Since we’re all dying anyway, let’s go to the grave together! I’ll kill every last one of you, just like that noble brat earlier!”
Gerduk seemed unhinged, as though drunk or drugged. Dana spoke while watching him.
“That bow he carries is granting him swift movement.”
“Swift movement?”
Thanks to the bow’s latent power—footwork as swift as the wind—Gerduk darted nimbly about, loosing arrows and felling soldiers like autumn leaves. Unable to watch any longer, I intervened. From a high vantage I readied my crossbow, took aim at Gerduk as he weaved through the soldiers like an eel, and waited in perfect stillness. The instant he entered range without noticing me, I pulled the trigger without hesitation.
Three bolts, infused with mana, flew like lightning and buried themselves deep in the back of Gerduk’s head.
“Guh…!”
Struck by the sudden attack, Gerduk’s eyes flew wide before he collapsed to the ground, his breath gone. I leapt down to retrieve the bow he had dropped. When the soldiers saw me—the man who had felled the lightning-fast Gerduk in a single strike—they erupted in cheers.
“Th-the captain of the Kether Mercenary Group caught him!”