Chapter 22
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: Dumfries (5)
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“An honor duel without prior consultation? That's a rare thing in these modern times.”
Roderick stroked his chin.
Disputes between families inevitably led to armed clashes.
However, the administrative officials dispatched from the capital would usually turn a blind eye as long as certain boundaries were respected.
And those “armed disputes within boundaries” meant skirmishes involving around a hundred men that didn't harm the locals much and stayed between the families themselves. Typically, after two or three such clashes, a winner and loser would naturally emerge.
At that very moment when victor and vanquished were decided, the loser could choose to accept defeat outright or demand an “honor duel.”
Opting for the former meant the winner would settle things on favorable terms.
They might buy up the loser's remaining assets at a generously inflated price or guarantee the safety of the defeated family's members.
That was why almost everyone—nearly all—chose the former.
But for the loser to provoke the winner into an honor duel without prior agreement?
It was as good as declaring they were forfeiting everything.
It meant handing over all remaining assets, even the lives of their family members, in exchange for one final “true duel.”
Thus, in this day and age, there were hardly any deranged families foolish enough to moth-like fling themselves into oblivion without a single chance of recovery.
“So, will you accept?”
“If they're begging to be crushed, I should oblige. Come on, now—it's not worth Sir Swent's attention. Please, keep enjoying yourself.”
“Hm. Suppose you're right.”
Hiding a hint of regret, Roderick raised his glass.
Just then, a man who appeared to be around the same age, with his reddish-brown hair grown long and tied back, approached and handed Roderick a letter.
“It's from the Headgates administrator.”
“From Headgates?”
Roderick's eyes sharpened slightly as he skimmed the contents.
“Bad news?”
Noticing the change in expression, the reddish-brown-haired man who'd delivered the letter asked cautiously.
Roderick's gaze had darkened in an instant. He glanced around before handing the letter to the man.
“Not bad, exactly—more strange. A discharged soldier from Northernrocks. But just the one.”
“One? Weren't there about ten last year? And that was in summer.”
The reddish-brown-haired man narrowed his eyes as he read the letter.
“Exactly. And right after Northern Army staff officer Luther Isaac returned to the fortress, out pops exactly one man. Doesn't that strike you as odd?”
“Mm. It does.”
Roderick cradled his chin in one hand, pondering briefly, then looked up as if something had occurred to him.
“By the way, why'd this arrive at this hour? And it's not even on messenger pigeon paper—it's a regular letter.”
“Well, actually, it wasn't sent by pigeon. It came by human courier.”
“A person?”
“Yes. Over there.”
Roderick followed the reddish-brown-haired man's gaze.
Outside the half-open party hall door stood a soldier in his mid-thirties, clad in leather armor caked with dust, helmet off and glancing around uncertainly.
“They deliberately sent him late by human courier, huh?”
Roderick remarked, watching the soldier gape and twirl his fluffy sideburns incessantly—a picture of utter cluelessness.
The reddish-brown-haired man gave a wry smile and nodded.
“He's been loitering in Nolford City for three days already. From the Headgates administrator's perspective, it must feel like a snub. So, what'll we do? It's just one man, but we should probably look into it.”
“Hmmm.”
Roderick stroked his chin, lost in thought.
Observing the pair for a moment, Baron Lancaster sidled up slyly.
“Something the matter? I overheard something about Northernrocks...”
“Ah, yes. It's a bit related to your side.”
“Is that so? What a fun coincidence, I thought.”
“Hm? What do you mean?”
Roderick narrowed his eyes.
“Well, one of the White Family's proxy knights is a recently discharged soldier from Northernrocks fortress. Ha! Quite the amusing coincidence! Hahaha!”
A cunning glint flashed in Baron Lancaster's small eyes amid his boisterous laugh.
And Roderick wasn't one to miss it.
“Oh? Is that right. Hmmm.”
A cold light lingered in Roderick's violet eyes.
After a brief glance with the reddish-brown-haired man, Roderick turned back with a gentle smile.
“Sir Lancaster, for that honor duel—are all the observers set?”
“Not yet, but I could round some up in no time. Why do you ask?”
“If it wouldn't be an imposition, I'd like to take one of the spots.”
“Oho! For the esteemed senior knight of the Blue Rose Knights to observe in person? It would be our honor!”
Baron Lancaster reacted with exaggerated delight, as if he'd been waiting for it.
“Thank you for allowing it. With that settled, if you'll excuse me, I'll take my leave for the evening.”
Roderick gave a slight bow and rose.
“Of course.”
The reddish-brown-haired man who'd brought the letter then called softly to someone.
“Craig. Elliot.”
Two young men—tall, but with faces just shedding their boyish features—hurried through the women surrounding them.
“Sir Cadwell, leaving already?”
“Sir Hartley, don't forget lunch tomorrow!”
Ignoring the wistful gazes from women of all ages, the pair stood before Roderick and the reddish-brown-haired man.
“Let's go.”
“Yes, Sir Morrison.”
The two youths replied to the reddish-brown-haired man, Jonathan Morrison, and fell into step a pace behind Roderick, one on each side.
“Oh...!”
As the four handsome, well-built young knights moved together, every eye in the hall turned to them.
Accustomed to the attention, they crossed the room without a hint of fluster, their poise only heightening their appeal.
“Huh? Why's that soldier still hanging around out there?”
As they neared the side door, Roderick noticed the man still loitering outside.
“He insists on escorting Sir Swent personally. Told him to head back, but he won't budge. The Headgates administrator must be pretty miffed. Though he might've already blown it.”
“Haha! Even if I let it slide, that soldier's clearly on the administrator's bad side. They didn't send him expecting me to play along like a good boy.”
“Anyway, what'll we do?”
“Can't just leave him like that. Have him stick with us for a few days. I've got to observe that honor duel anyway. Find him suitable lodgings here.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jonathan soon stepped out to speak with the soldier.
The man gesticulated wildly, as if pouring out a grievance with exaggerated flair.
But Jonathan shook his head firmly, and eventually, the soldier scratched his head dejectedly and shuffled off.
“What'd he say? Looked like a long rant.”
Roderick asked casually when Jonathan returned.
“He said he understands. But the garrison knight exam's in four days—he has to escort you by then, so please make an exception.”
“Get outta here! A country bumpkin dreaming of knighthood. Four days from now... Looks like that dream's getting pushed to next year. We've got to go check out that Northernrocks dischargee together.”
Roderick Swent—the Blue Rose Knights' senior knight and frontrunner for captain within a few years—muttered words that would have made Guard, the Headgates garrison veteran who'd delivered the letter, jump if he'd heard, and kept walking.
The music and lights of the party hall faded into the distance.
“Aw, man...”
Unlike the composed young man with straight features and long golden blond hair, the one with spiky light-brown hair and a hot-tempered look kept glancing back at the hall with regret.
Roderick grinned at the brown-haired youth.
“Craig Cadwell, what—did you have a lady warming up nicely?”
“Yeah! She was plump, with big boobs—right up my alley. We were just hitting it off when... A bit more time, and tonight would've been hot... Heh!”
Craig chuckled lewdly.
The elegant blond youth walking beside him frowned.
“Disgusting.”
“What's wrong with it? You were getting cozy with those Northern widows too.”
As Craig shrugged, the blond exploded.
“Th-that was because Sir Swent told us to liven things up!”
“Elliot Hartley, I said liven things up—not make lunch dates with widows, as far as I recall.”
Roderick tilted his head innocently.
“That was...”
Elliot's delicate, feminine face flushed beet red.
A smile quickly returned to Roderick's lips.
“Haha! Kidding. Good work, Elliot. Thanks to you, the local Nolford widows are all friendly toward us. In the end, that'll bring not just Baron Lancaster but all Nolford's promising families to our side. Compared to someone obsessed with Northern girls' chests, you did something huge.”
“Heh! If you'd seen Lady Go's chest up close, Brother Roderick... Ow!”
Thwack!
Jonathan, trailing quietly behind, smacked the grinning Craig hard on the back of the head.
“Don't forget—Sir Swent is your paternal cousin, but above all, he's the Blue Rose's senior knight and acting second captain.”
“Yessir.”
Craig rubbed his head sulkily.
Roderick slowed slightly, draping his arms over Craig and Elliot's shoulders.
“Right. Don't forget it, you Blue Rose squire brats.”
“Aw. Elliot and I are both becoming probationary knights this fall.”
“Pretty confident, huh? Elliot Hartley, you think so too?”
“...I believe so.”
Even the usually quiet and cautious Elliot nodded, his face lightly flushed.
“Oh? Really?”
“Heh! So, in that spirit, Brother—or rather, Acting Captain.”
Craig hastily corrected himself under Jonathan's glare.
“What?”
“I overheard something about Northernrocks earlier. What's up?”
The freshly eighteen-year-old Craig was as curious as he was girl-crazy.
“I heard it too.”
Since Northernrocks fortress was a key reason for their trip, even the silent Elliot perked up.
“You caught that amid everything else? Come on, let's head inside first.”
The four knights entered the spacious, lavish quarters prepared at the Lancaster estate.
“I was just about to bring it up.”
Seated in a chair, Roderick eyed the trio and began.
“A discharged soldier from Northernrocks fortress. Unlike the ten or so who came out last summer, this year—one came out now, before spring's even hit the North.”
“But what can one guy even do? Worth our scrutiny?”
Roderick nodded at Elliot's question.
“Good point. One man alone can't do much. But that's exactly why it's suspicious.”
“Hm?”
As the two youths exchanged puzzled glances, Roderick turned to Jonathan, who continued coldly.
“What Sir Swent means is, flipped around—it suggests he might be one extraordinary man capable of doing something.”
“Ah...!”
The youths' mouths fell open slightly.
And with that, their curiosity about the Northernrocks dischargee was newly piqued.
(To be continued)