Chapter 51: This Won't End Quietly (3)
Chapter 51: This Won't End Quietly (3)
After Patrick left.
Marianne’s personal maid cautiously approached her as she sat alone in the room.
“Um, My Lady…”
“Emily, did you hear?”
“Yes, I heard. It’s unfortunate that—”
“He said he loves me.”
“…….”
Emily wanted to ask, ‘When exactly did he say that?’ but seeing Marianne cupping her reddened cheeks with both hands and speaking so shyly, she couldn't bring herself to open her mouth.
Then Marianne continued.
“He said he couldn't stay here because he was afraid of my father’s misunderstanding. Doesn't that mean he doesn't dislike me?”
“Well, yes. I suppose so.”
“And if he doesn't dislike me, that means he loves me, right?”
“That’s a bit of an extreme leap, don't you think?”
“No, it’s not. He’s just too shy to express himself actively. It’s practically the same as if he’d said it outright.”
“…….”
Sigh… here she goes again.
The Marianne that Emily knew was a capable young lady who, while tending toward arrogance, was always wise and sharp.
However, once she became fixated on something, she stopped listening to anything anyone else said.
To put it kindly, she had great initiative; to put it bluntly, she was incredibly stubborn.
When she decided to enter the Academy, she had fought with the Count—who opposed her leaving home—for three days and nights until she finally succeeded in taking the entrance exam.
And now, it seemed she had set her sights on a man named Patrick Schneider.
Marianne twirled a lock of hair around her finger and spoke.
“He loves me, but he’s forced to withdraw because he’s worried about my father. That just shows how much he treasures and loves me.”
“Yes, well…”
“Your response isn't very enthusiastic.”
“There isn't a man in the East who would dislike you, My Lady.”
“Exactly, right?”
“Yes, well… generally speaking.”
Emily chose not to add, ‘Though there might be the occasional exception.’
As her personal maid who had served her since she was a toddler, Emily knew. Once Marianne was convinced of her own opinion, persuasion was impossible.
“Hehehe. Yes. That’s how it is.”
“…….”
“Withdrawing because he’s scared of my papa. Hmph, it’s actually kind of cute.”
“…….”
“If he likes me that much, what can I do? I can't exactly tell him to go die when he says he can't live without me, can I?”
“…….”
“Now that I think about it, instead of meeting a man who’s already perfect, it feels more like me to snatch up a man with potential and raise him to my taste. Don't you think so, Emily?”
“Do whatever you like, My Lady.”
You won't listen even if I try to stop you, anyway.
“Thanks for the support.”
“…….”
“Hehehe. Now, how should I go about pampering him?”
Seeing her mistress speak with a full bloom of a smile on her face, Emily thought to herself:
Poor Young Lord Schneider.
* * *
Mount Pils.
Located in the center of the Eastern Region, this mountain was so high and the terrain so rugged that people rarely ventured there to live.
Consequently, those who had committed crimes in their territories or were driven out for failing to pay taxes settled there one by one, making a living through slash-and-burn farming.
Up to that point, it was a minor issue.
However, as the population grew, the farmers eventually turned into bandits.
While their exact numbers were unknown, their range of activity had recently expanded beyond Mount Pils to the nearby highways, where they attacked merchants and even ordinary residents of the territories.
To subjugate these bandits, Count Parmas had gathered a subjugation force, and their numbers exceeded 5,000.
This was an excessive number for taking down a single bandit group. Perhaps that was why?
“Don't fall behind! The vanguard belongs to our House Frace!”
“We must be the first to reach the top. All troops, advance at a double-time!”
“The vanguard belongs to us, House Haspear!”
The three families leading the way up Mount Pils were climbing competitively.
Watching them push forward recklessly, even as their formations began to fray, Baron Schneider let out a sigh.
“I don't think competition is what’s important right now.”
He then turned to the son beside him.
“What do you think?”
“About what?”
“Those three families in the vanguard.”
“It’s a total shitshow.”
“…They bravely volunteered for the vanguard. Is it right to insult them like that?”
“Fine. It’s a brave shitshow.”
“…….”
From Patrick’s perspective, this wasn't even an insult.
Currently, the Schneider family was in the rear guard, positioned slightly behind the vanguard.
Behind them, Count Parmas held the center, with other lords supporting the rear.
Patrick had been wearing a dissatisfied expression for a while now.
“Is this how they handle a bandit subjugation? This is why rookies are…”
“Isn't this your first bandit subjugation as well?”
“Why would it be my first? I’ve…”
“You’ve?”
“It’s my first time here. But I’ve done this plenty of times.”
“What kind of nonsense is that?”
“Ugh, this is so frustrating.”
Patrick couldn't tell the truth, and even if he did, his father wouldn't believe him, so he just suffered in silence.
In his past life, the Radiant Dragon Hero Jincheon was a literal expert in bandit subjugation.
「Is your village’s security unstable because of bandits?
Is trade difficult because of bandits?
Rest easy now. The Radiant Dragon Hero Jincheon of the Twin Dragon Sect will solve your problems with a single strike at an affordable price.
P.S. – The commission fee will be determined after consultation and is subject to change.」
It was no joke.
He had actually made flyers with that exact content and distributed them all over the Jianghu.
Other sects mocked him for making money off of "heroic deeds," but what else could he do?
He had to do something to put food on the table.
Regardless, the number of bandit dens that had vanished under the blade of the Radiant Dragon Hero Jincheon exceeded a hundred.
That was how rich Patrick’s experience in bandit subjugation was.
And through Patrick’s eyes, what these people were doing now was the work of absolute amateurs.
“Incompetent. So incompetent.”
Seeing his son constantly grumbling, Baron Schneider asked, “Exactly what is the problem?”
“Father. Let’s look at this from a different perspective. Imagine you’re a bandit settled on this mountain.”
“Why would I be a bandit?”
“Just imagine it. They say you have to know your enemy and yourself to win, right?”
“Who says that?”
“…I’m going crazy. Seriously.”
Patrick wanted to just give up, but he pushed through with patience.
“If you were a bandit and a massive army of over 5,000 was swarming toward you, what would you do?”
“Well… I’d run away?”
An army of 5,000 was far too much for bandits to handle.
A noble who knew honor might choose death over retreat and fight to the bitter end, but bandits had no such honor.
“Exactly. They won't run away immediately, but they certainly won't engage in a head-on battle.”
“Hmm, I see.”
“Then, what should we do to prevent the bandits from escaping?”
“…….”
Patrick waited patiently as Baron Schneider pondered deeply.
Yes, finding the answer slowly isn't the problem. As long as he can think for himself and find the right answer…
“I’m not quite sure.”
“…….”
Oh, Father.
My dear, innocent Father.
If he weren't my father, I’d… Patrick thought.
This pushover of a man was kind-hearted, but his lack of competence was…
“Hmph, well, I might not know. Then what would you do?”
“I’d set the mountain on fire.”
“What?”
“Deploy troops at the main escape routes and then just burn the mountain down. The bandits will come scurrying out on their own, and then we can kill them one by one—”
“Wait, wait…”
Baron Schneider pressed his temples and said, “Wouldn't the whole mountain burn down if you did that?”
“You have to do it technically.”
“How do you set a mountain on fire 'technically'? What if it turns into a massive forest fire?”
“People come first.”
“…….”
There are people in this world who don't care about the means as long as they achieve their ends.
Baron Schneider knew that.
I just didn't know it would be my own son.
Under his father’s ‘Are you even human?’ gaze, Patrick spoke bluntly.
“The important thing in war is to find and use a move the enemy doesn't expect. Or a move they pray you won't use even if they do expect it.”
“Hmm…”
Put that way, it did sound plausible.
Patrick continued.
“But right now, our army isn't considering the bandits’ perspective at all. We’re just doing whatever we want.”
“You’re saying we should think from the enemies’ perspective?”
“Exactly. Now we’re talking.”
“To be honest, I didn't think a simple bandit subjugation required such high-level strategy.”
“Oh, Father… My dear Father who knows nothing of the world.”
What? Why, you brat? Why are you clutching your chest and lamenting like I’m some hopeless case?
Patrick let out a deep sigh and said, “Father, even bandits have brains and do their own version of thinking.”
“I suppose so.”
“But right now, our army is treating the bandits like mindless, stupid scarecrows and fighting without a single thought.”
“…….”
“We might win this way. We might, but if we do, it won't be because we were good; it’ll be because the enemy was pathetic.”
“Hmm, you have a point there.”
“Of course I do. I’m always right.”
“Not always.”
“Ahem. Besides, didn't they say there’s a Dark Mage behind these bandits? I don't know how they can be so reckless without knowing what those bastards might do…”
Just as Patrick clicked his tongue…
“Aaaaaagh!”
“It’s a trap!”
As if they had been waiting, screams of soldiers erupted from the front.
“I knew it.”
Patrick pressed his hand to his forehead and sighed.
As Patrick said, the bandits were neither foolish nor thoughtless.
Everyone uses their head desperately to survive; would bandits facing a subjugation force really just wait idly inside their base?
The closer they got to the bandits’ stronghold, the more traps awaited them.
“Cowards! Did you think you could stop us with such vile traps?”
Actually, they were being stopped right now.
They were classic traps—holes dug in the ground with sharpened wooden stakes at the bottom—but after nearly ten soldiers fell victim to them, they couldn't just charge blindly…
“Traps are nothing! All troops, advance!”
Ugh, use your brain…
“The bandits’ base is right there. All troops, advance.”
“Show them that these traps cannot stop us. Knights, take the lead and clear the path!”
“Yes, My Lord.”
Despite taking losses from the traps, the three families in the vanguard considered it minor damage and maintained their marching speed. As a result…
“Aaaaah!”
“Watch out!”
“Rocks are falling!”
The traps set by the bandits were crude, but they were numerous.
Boulders fell, snares waited, and logs swung in from the sides.
However, the three families were so blinded by the competition to lead that they didn't slow down; they kept accelerating.
Even as soldiers were being hit by traps, the commanders just kept shouting for the advance, as if some casualties were inevitable.
“These hopeless bastards…”
Patrick was displeased.
He had a bad feeling.
Watching from the back, he had a very strong feeling that things were going to go south.
They’re going to fail. If I leave these idiots alone, they’re going to fail.
This was a problem.
If he just stayed in the back and watched them fail, it would become difficult to just maintain a comfortable position.
If it became hard to do things halfway, he’d have to work hard.
Working hard meant suffering.
Suffering meant his life would get complicated and his heart would ache.
If his heart ached, he’d have to take his anger out on those around him.
And if Patrick started taking his anger out on his surroundings, that anger would breed more anger, eventually leading to violence rampant across the world, and in the end…
“The world will probably end.”
“…What will?”
“To prevent the end of the world, I think I need to do something about this moment.”
“…I’m asking, what are you talking about?”
“I’ll be right back. I’m going to the front for a bit.”
Watching Patrick gallop forward on his horse, Baron Schneider thought:
The kid is becoming harder and harder to understand.
“Is it puberty?”
If only it were that simple.