Chapter 14
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 14
Chapter Title: Headgates (7)
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"Any decent swordsmen corps or mercenary band would welcome Imperial Army veterans with open arms, but if you've served at Northernrocks Fortress, the treatment you get is on another level entirely. After all, those are warriors forged in the harshest real combat."
"Ah, I see. So then, wouldn't someone like Blake join up with a swordsmen corps or mercenaries? It'd be great if he could help us out first... Maybe the pay isn't good enough?"
Mia tilted her head, recalling the brief impression she'd gotten of him during the day. He didn't seem like the type motivated purely by money.
"That's not it. I casually brought it up with Sir Zaroph, and he just shook his head. Apparently, he's saved up over ten years of pay without spending a single coin."
"Oh! Then...?"
"He has to head somewhere in the south by a set deadline. Seems like he thinks getting involved with us would make him miss it."
Her face, which had brightened for a moment, fell again.
"That's a shame. Someone that impressive—I'd love to recruit him. Is the deadline really that tight?"
"He said it takes three months to reach his destination, so it's not incredibly urgent. I regret it too. If he joined, we'd have exactly three people, including me. But we can't force him if he's not interested. Maybe the deadline's just an excuse, and he's afraid of getting tangled up with the Lancaster Family like the other mercenaries here."
"He didn't seem like that kind of guy..."
Mia murmured softly, remembering Blake's indifferent gaze from earlier that day.
"Hm? What was that?"
"Oh, nothing. We need to get up early tomorrow, so I'll head out. Rest well, Sir Carlson."
Mia shook her head quickly and shot up from her seat.
"Very well."
With Brick seeing her off, Mia stepped into the hallway.
As she walked toward the room she shared with Christine, her gaze involuntarily drifted to one side—the spot where she'd run into Blake earlier.
Both rooms were dark, their occupants apparently asleep.
Northernrocks Fortress... He really isn't your average guy.
Mia puffed up a bit, pleased that her judgment of character was spot on.
But she soon deflated, her head drooping.
She'd remembered Blake's parting words.
Does he hate kids? I'm fourteen, though... Is it because I'm not pretty?
The more she thought about it, the more depressed she got.
Unlike her sister, she wasn't particularly pretty, and while that had occasionally bothered her, today it hit especially hard.
People do say I'm cute when I dress like a girl sometimes. Maybe if I dropped the boy disguise, he'd see me differently? Who knows...
Mia had firmly convinced herself it was because she wasn't attractive.
Clink, clink.
Wearing a rather listless expression, Lindelmann idly stirred his plate.
"Ack!"
He'd only poked at his soup without touching the bread or meat, and when he finally took a spoonful, he grimaced and gulped down water from his cup.
It was his fifth glass already, thanks to the hangover.
"Haaah!"
Setting down the glass, Lindelmann let out a long sigh and sneakily glanced sideways.
Blake, having already finished eating, was fully dressed and meticulously tending to his sword with a serious look.
Unlike a normal blade that gleamed silver and reflected the light, this one's matte, gray-black surface—edging into an almost oily sheen—gave off an unsettling vibe just looking at it.
"Um..."
Lindelmann called out to Blake cautiously.
Blake, who had been carefully wiping the blade with a cloth, lifted his head silently.
His eyes were the same as always, but for some reason, it made Lindelmann flinch today. He cleared his throat awkwardly.
"Ahem! It's nothing much, but... about what you said yesterday—any change of heart?"
"What about?"
"You know... splitting up with me..."
"Sir Zaroph's decision to accept that knight's proposal hasn't changed?"
Click.
Blake sheathed his sword and countered.
"I made a promise, so I have to keep it."
Lindelmann mumbled before answering in a deflated tone.
"In that case, we part ways. It's got nothing to do with me."
Blake said coolly.
He'd be disobeying the commander's orders to stick together until they were clear of Headgates and Northway, but it was better than getting dragged into pointless trouble.
"Well, no helping it then..."
Thud!
Blake stood, slinging on his pre-packed gear, startling Lindelmann mid-sentence. He hurriedly continued.
"...but still! Shouldn't we travel together until the roads split? Call it courtesy between former traveling companions?"
It sounded a bit forced even to him, but he had no choice.
If what Brick had told him last night was true, he'd stuck his head right into the wolf's mouth.
"..."
Blake pondered briefly.
Going together until the fork wasn't much of a loss.
More importantly, if the Credo Swordsmen Corps attacked en route, knights like Lindelmann and Brick would make decent bait.
'Please, please, just come with us at least to the fork, you heartless bastard!'
As if reading Lindelmann's thoughts, Blake's lips parted.
"Fine. Until the roads split."
"Great choice! I'll let Sir Carlson know, so wait here a moment."
Lindelmann jumped up with a beaming face and rushed out the door.
But as he hurried down the hall, his expression shifted slyly.
"No matter what, I have to convince him before the roads split."
His eyes nearly welled with bloody tears as he sighed deeply.
I must be crazy. Why'd I make that promise? No, why'd I drink so much? Actually, why'd I even stay at this inn...?
His regrets inevitably spiraled to 'Why on earth did Mother bring me into this harsh world?'—but it was too late for that.
Now he was stuck going with Brick's group for an honor duel.
If he wanted to blame someone, it was himself for letting his sense of justice flare up too boldly under the booze, instead of playing it safe like usual.
"What if I get injured..."
Just thinking about it made his head spin.
Win or lose wasn't the issue. A serious injury requiring months of recovery would bar him from the Imperial Army knight exam, held once every three years.
Honor duels didn't always mean injuries, of course.
He could win easily or lose without major harm.
But this time, the opponents were the problem.
"The heavens are cruel. Why'd it have to be those guys I picked a fight with..."
To stop Brick and the girls from finding a proxy knight, the Lancaster Family had sent one of their subordinate swordsmen corps.
The Credo Swordsmen Corps.
He should've thought twice upon hearing the name.
Normally, he would have, but the alcohol dredged up the humiliation from earlier that day first.
Reckless righteousness, booze-fueled bravado, and burning revenge—there was no escaping it.
He'd boasted they'd only need to trust him and even volunteered as their proxy knight unasked.
No way out now.
"They won't let me off easy..."
Not content with just the initial clash with Credo, he'd be standing in for an honor duel against a family hostile to them.
The Lancaster baronetcy had no reason to let him walk away unscathed, win or lose.
His odds of death or injury in this situation...
"Fifty percent—no, over seventy. Ugh!"
His stomach and heart both ached.
Why had he volunteered for the grueling trips between Alteria and Northernrocks Fortress?
To rack up merit points for a sure shot at the knight exam.
After all that hardship, to miss the exam over something unforeseen...
"No way. Absolutely not."
No matter what, he had to return to Alteria safely and take the exam.
To do that, he needed to survive this proxy honor duel unscathed—and for that, he needed a strong ally on his side.
And right here, right now, Lindelmann knew only one such powerhouse.
"Blake..."
He'd refused, but he had to convince him somehow.
"Half a day left?"
At a leisurely pace, they'd reach the fork around noon.
So until then, he absolutely had to...
"Oh my! Sir Zaroph."
A delighted voice pulled Lindelmann from his thoughts. He turned.
"Ah, Miss White."
His previously gloomy face brightened a touch.
"Call me Christine like yesterday. You're up early. Did you sleep well? You seemed to drink quite a bit..."
Christine approached, hands clasped, eyes full of concern.
"Ha, haha! I'm fine. That was barely a sip."
Remembering his drunken antics with her last night made him flush, but he thumped his chest and laughed it off.
"Didn't sound like it from the vomiting noises..."
A small voice piped up from beside her.
"Hng!"
A vein twitched on his forehead, but Lindelmann pretended not to hear and turned with a smile.
"Haha. And this is...?"
"Hee hee! I introduced her yesterday, but she's so ordinary you forgot? This is my little sister."
"Hello. I'm Mia White."
She still seemed unreliable, but as the knight fighting their honor duel, Mia bowed politely.
"Pleased to meet you, Mia—er, Miss. Haha!"
Lindelmann chuckled heartily, savoring his petty revenge.
"Hee hee hee! Sir Zaroph, you're such a tease!"
Christine laughed and lightly tapped his shoulder.
"Hahaha!"
Her touch made his laughter boom louder.
As the two shared their warm rapport, Mia pouted.
How many times have they even met? Acting all chummy.
"Hm. Everyone's ready early. Shall we go?"
"Yes."
Brick emerged from his room, and the girls nodded, stepping forward. Lindelmann spoke up.
"Pardon me, but..."
"Yes?"
"My companion. He's traveling with us until the fork. So, Sir Carlson, until then..."
"Oh? Understood."
Brick nodded, catching the hint.
"I'll fetch him."
"Do that. We'll be in the carriage. Meet at the inn entrance."
Lindelmann parted ways with the trio in the hall.
"Good. With luck, I can persuade him on the way."
"I hope so."
Mia's eyes sparkled.
Early morning. A plain twin-horse carriage with no crest and its two horses departed from Winterflower Inn.
"Yawn!"
At that moment, a swordsman trudging toward Winterflower while picking sleep from his eyes glanced indifferently at the carriage.
Clink, clink!
"Whoa!"
But as the two horses following the carriage sped past him, his eyes sharpened completely differently. He bolted back the way he'd come.
"S-Sir Jude, big trouble!"
"What is it?"
Jude, who had just finished breakfast and was sipping hot tea, frowned lightly.
"That bastard! The discharged soldier who roughed up Gus and Ben yesterday, and the knight from Alteria—they just left Winterflower! Heading for the south gate!"
Thud!
Jude slammed down his teacup and shot to his feet.
Pacing the room with arms crossed, he whipped his head around.
"How many inns unchecked?"
"Two—no, three."
"Send Denny, Hugh, and Culky there. If they spot the girls' trail, follow fast and report back. Everyone else, gear up and assemble. We hunt them down. Finish by noon and return."
"Yes, sir!"
The swordsman dashed out, and the outside erupted in commotion.
"Better take them out before the fork. Gotta be back by noon. Right—Fault Forest pass is perfect. Heh heh!"
Jude licked his lips, eyes gleaming.
"I'll kill you. You insolent maggot of a soldier."
A cruel smile twisted his thin lips.
(To be continued)