Chapter 61: Pluck Them All (2)
Chapter 61: Pluck Them All (2)
“This is no time for jokes. What if the soldiers’ morale wavers?”
“What about it?”
Patrick spoke while picking his ear and blowing the debris off his finger.
“Then they go their own way.”
“Are you serious?”
“Do I look like I’m bullshitting you?”
“Young Master!”
“Ugh, what now?”
Seeing Patrick’s annoyed expression, Sanson spoke with a grave face.
“To take the teachings they received from you and become knights in another territory is an act of betrayal. Are you truly okay with that?”
“Of course I’m not okay with it. It pisses me off.”
“Then why? Why are you just leaving them be?”
“…”
“I would understand if it were the Baron. He’s the type to release soldiers out of respect for their individual will. But you aren’t that kind of person, are you, Young Master?”
“What kind of person am I, then?”
“You’re the type who would beat them all to a pulp, screaming, ‘You ungrateful bastards! You’re betraying me? Die! Just die!’”
“Tsk, tsk. Look at how you think… What kind of psycho would do that?”
“…”
You would, you prick.
Sanson kept the words inside, fearing he’d get hit if he actually said them.
Patrick let out a smirk and looked at Sanson.
“Sanson, what are you?”
“I am… the Baron’s Guard Captain.”
“Right. Then what are the other soldiers?”
“They are the soldiers of this territory.”
“Right. Now, does the Kingdom’s Law state that it’s illegal for soldiers to move their affiliation to another territory?”
“…No, it doesn’t.”
“Then there’s no problem, right?”
“…”
As Sanson stood speechless, Patrick shrugged his shoulders.
“That’s just the law.”
“Wow. Listen to the Guard Captain, the man who’s supposed to enforce the law, talking like that.”
“No, but still…”
“If they betrayed us after being conferred as knights and swearing an oath of loyalty, I’d hunt them down and skin them alive. But what right do I have to throw a fit about ‘betrayal’ to mere soldiers?”
“The soldiers owe you a debt of gratitude. Isn’t it only right that they remain loyal to the territory? Am I wrong?”
“Sanson, oh, Sanson…”
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Stop being so delusional.”
“What do you mean?”
“Stop assuming everyone in the world is like you, you arrogant prick.”
“What do you mean, arrogant?” Sanson asked, sounding deeply wronged.
Patrick chuckled.
“Oh? Listen to this guy talk shit when he’s looking at the 5-Star level after only five years of serious training.”
“Well, that’s because…”
“Objectively speaking, you’re a genius.”
Coming from Patrick, this was an incredibly generous compliment. But Sanson wasn’t happy in the slightest.
Because he had seen and felt the truth.
“How am I a genius? Compared to you or April, I’m nothing but a slow-witted fool.”
“There’s always a bigger fish.”
“…”
“What? What’s with that look? If you’re that salty about it, go die and get reincarnated.”
“Does that even make sense?”
“Actually, it kind of does.”
“Pardon?”
“No, never mind… Ahem. Anyway, to an ordinary soldier, your talent alone is something to be blindingly envious of.”
“…”
“And for a gifted genius like you, making the ‘difficult’ choice is easy. Even when conditions are hard and the situation is bad, you believe you can improve things with your own ability.”
“That’s…”
“But the other guys aren’t like that.”
“…”
“If they want to make it big as knights, earn a lot of money, and let their families live in luxury, is that really such a wicked thing?”
“…”
Sanson couldn’t answer.
Was it wicked? Could he really call it that?
It wasn’t against the law, nor was it an act of evil.
They were simply moving to a place that offered them better treatment. He couldn’t bring himself to say that was wrong.
Moreover, in the Schneider Barony, there was no telling when they would ever become knights.
Sanson and the soldiers knew roughly why they hadn’t been knighted yet.
Their skills were sufficient.
The Baron also wanted to confer them as knights.
But a very realistic problem stood in their way.
Money.
Knights were expensive.
First, their salary was incomparably higher than that of a regular soldier, and the lord had to provide their equipment.
Full plate mail, a horse, horse armor. Not to mention various other supplies and the maintenance costs to keep them in good condition.
Then there was the cost of hiring a stablehand to care for the horse and a squire to serve the knight…
If we appointed all 200 soldiers as knights, the territory’s budget would go bankrupt.
Normally, a force of 200 knights wasn’t something a rural noble could command.
That was a level of military power maintained by a Duke or, at the very least, a powerful Marquis.
Thus, Baron Schneider could not promote the soldiers to the nobility.
He might have had plans to promote them one by one, but he was hesitating because it was ambiguous whom to promote first and whom to leave behind.
“You know it too, don’t you? If they stay in our territory, they’ll have to keep scraping by as soldiers.”
“…”
“But you’ll probably become a knight even in our territory. Given your skill and record, if you were knighted, the other soldiers would think, ‘If it’s Sanson, I can accept that.’”
“I…”
“You’re going to say you never thought about that?”
“…”
“Sure. Maybe you didn’t. But whether you thought about it or not, the other guys know it’s a reality. To them, an offer from another Eastern noble might be a once-in-a-lifetime chance to change their lives.”
“…”
“And yet you want me to stop them? Should I beat them one by one and threaten to kill them if they leave?”
“Young Master…”
Sanson let out a weak sigh.
He had no choice but to accept it.
Everything Patrick said was right.
Patrick’s words, which sought to understand the soldiers’ positions and respect their rights and will, were more righteous than anyone else’s. But…
“But Young Master. Are you okay with this, then?”
“No, I’m not.”
“…”
“I worked my ass off to turn these bastards into decent human beings. I taught them with everything I had until they could finally swing a sword properly, and now they’re switching sides? Ugh… just thinking about it pisses me off.”
“Your words and actions don’t match at all.”
“It’s fine. I’ve always been like this.”
“You say that like it’s something to be proud of, you lunatic…”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Patrick glared at Sanson for a moment before shrugging.
“But what can I do? My being pissed off is one thing, but I have to understand their situation.”
“…”
“Tell those who want to leave to go. It’s their choice and their luck.”
“…Understood.”
Sanson replied in a dejected voice.
Patrick was right.
He understood that part well enough. But regardless of that, his mood couldn’t help but sink. Because…
Do we mean nothing to the Young Master?
For the past five years, the soldiers of the Schneider territory had lived through a literal hell.
If they had known from the start that they would undergo such training, most of them would have given up at the beginning.
But the one who suffered far more than those soldiers was Patrick himself.
He corrected every single soldier’s posture whenever it faltered, fixed their aura when it became tangled, and repeated combat-like sparring sessions. All while keeping an eye on the Orcs and handling the territory’s practical affairs. And through it all, he pushed himself through individual training far more grueling than what the soldiers faced.
The reason the soldiers didn't give up even in the midst of training that felt like death was because Patrick was there, walking ahead of them… well, maybe not silently, but he was there, showing them the way.
Sanson thought there was a bond and trust built between them during that process…
Was it not like that for the Young Master?
The emotion Sanson felt was, in a word, hurt.
He thought that Patrick, who had painstakingly taught and pulled them up one by one, would have more special feelings for them.
Didn’t you promise? That you would make us all knights… huh?
Suddenly, something flashed through Sanson’s mind.
That’s right. Patrick had promised.
That one day, he would make them all knights.
Patrick’s personality was foul, wicked, violent, and impatient, but most of what he said was undeniably sincere.
If so…
Sanson suddenly turned his head to look at Patrick.
“Young Master.”
“You’re calling me a lot today.”
“I want to ask just one more thing.”
“Can you not? It’s a pain in the ass.”
“You said those who want to leave can go, right?”
“Are you ignoring me?”
“Then what should I say to those who say they won’t go?”
“…”
“‘Those who want to leave, leave. But those who want to stay, stay.’ If so, do you have nothing to say to those who remain?”
“…”
“Not even a single word?”
“For a guy built like a bear, you sure are clingy…”
“Please, tell me.”
At Sanson’s words, Patrick gave a bitter smile.
“To those who stay… just tell them two things.”
“…”
“‘Thank you.’ And…”
“…”
“‘I will never make you regret it.’”
Hearing those words, Sanson’s face brightened instantly.
“Thank you. Those two sentences are more than enough.”
“What are you talking about? It’s just an empty promise. A blank check with no guarantee, you know?”
“The value of a blank check changes completely depending on whose name is on it.”
“…”
“I will go and deliver the message exactly as you said.”
Watching Sanson leave with a bright expression, Patrick let out a smirk.
“Stupid bastard.”
To be that happy over a groundless blank check. How could someone be such a gullible sucker unless they were born to be scammed?
“Haaa… why are there only guys like this around me?”
But what could he do when he was surrounded by suckers who looked like they’d starve to death if he didn’t look after them?
He’d just have to do his best to take care of them.
* * *
“Everyone, listen up.”
Sanson gathered the soldiers.
Then, with a serious expression, he spoke to them.
“Many of you have likely received good offers from nobles of other territories recently.”
At those words, a significant number of soldiers looked guilty. One of them asked.
“So, what did the Young Master say?”
“The Young Master said this.”
“…”
“‘Those who want to leave, leave.’”
The soldiers began to murmur.
In fact, quite a few soldiers had been wavering after receiving good offers.
But the reason they hadn’t moved immediately was because they didn’t know how Patrick would react.
But now that Patrick was telling them to go if they wanted…
Can I really go?
Can I become a knight? Me?
Then, Sanson’s words continued.
“At the same time, he left two messages for the fools who say they won’t go and will stay.”
“What are they?”
“‘Thank you.’”
“Pardon?”
“The Young Master said that to us?”
“Did you hear him wrong?”
The soldiers were shocked.
Because words like ‘thank you’ or ‘gratitude’ were things that would never, ever come out of the mouth of the Patrick they knew.
Hearing that Patrick had sent his thanks, the soldiers momentarily doubted their ears.
And Sanson’s words followed.
“The other thing he said was that if there are those who stay, he will never make them regret it.”
“Never make us regret it?”
“That’s right. As you all know… the Young Master is no ordinary person.”
“He’s a demon.”
“A Great Demon of Hell.”
“Something worse than a monster.”
“A member of the Demon Clan.”
Well, yeah. Those are all true.
Sanson couldn’t bring himself to deny it.