37. Pyneton (1)
37. Pyneton (1)
The sun had completely set and night had deepened.
The cries of wild insects echoed through the air.
Yuma stared at the man in front of him.
Marquis Tornel, the lord of the land upon which Yuma now stood, sat before him.
It was because Tornel had requested a face-to-face meeting with Yuma.
Tornel looked straight at Yuma. Tornel's mouth opened.
"Grand Marshal Yuma, I have drafted a rough ceasefire agreement with Great Warrior Martes of Pyneton, whom you designated as the negotiation counterpart. Thanks to you defeating that Conqueror King, a smooth negotiation was made possible."
Defeating Pyneton's monarch, Conqueror King Kamet, by an overwhelming margin.
That was the reason Pyneton's warriors had no choice but to accept the outcome as a defeated nation.
"We expect to receive the two territories of Pyneton closest to the Empire. They also agreed to pay tribute in grain and weapons for 20 years. They too are a powerful nation that has swallowed numerous kingdoms. They will surely understand the weight of the treaty."
All of it was the standard level of compensation a victorious nation rightfully deserved.
"And we secured a unilateral non-aggression pact for 100 years. Should Pyneton invade our nation first, they will face a combined offensive from our allies and allied kingdoms."
"I see."
Yuma nodded.
"But why are you reporting this to me?"
"Yuma, because you are still the Grand Marshal of this battlefield. Appointed by the Imperial Household."
Command and obedience. A clear hierarchy that necessitated reporting. Simply put, Tornel seemed to be making that point. However, within that simplicity, there was a clear intention from Tornel.
"I, Marquis Tornel, hereby pledge to actively support the 1st Princess Brigitte from now on."
"The 1st Princess will be greatly reassured."
Tornel let out a hollow laugh at Yuma's indifferent reply.
It was because Yuma didn't seem particularly interested in his declaration of support for the 1st Princess.
Tornel relaxed his solemnity slightly and decided to change the subject.
"You mentioned having business within Pyneton territory. When do you intend to depart?"
Yuma answered without hesitation.
"Tomorrow morning."
Though it was a victorious army's barracks, it was still part of a battlefield.
A place where the corpses of Imperial soldiers who died screaming lay. A place where, if you stepped outside, there were soldiers and knights weeping over the deaths of their comrades.
It was no place to linger.
"Will your party be the same as when you arrived?"
"Most likely."
There seemed no particular need to add more people.
'It might be better to have at least one guide, I suppose.'
It wasn't like he was striding through the center of Pyneton territory; he only had to pass through the Gelpiel Forest, a neglected woodland. Still, it was a foreign country. Having a guide would naturally be more convenient.
But finding a guide wouldn't be too late even after entering Pyneton.
Seureuk-
As Yuma stepped out of the barracks, someone blocked his path again.
"Good to see you! God of War!"
It was Heigelt, the 2nd Seat of the Imperial Ten Seats. The scar above Heigelt's eyebrow twitched. A competitive spirit flowed from his very feet.
But he held back that competitive spirit.
Displaying such feelings right after a war had just ended would be nothing but indecorous.
"Will you be going to the capital? Then it would be good if we went together."
"I still have business to attend to."
"Hmm, is that so? I'm curious what that business might be."
Yuma recalled the background of the man in front of him.
Heigelt.
Captain of the Hallow Mercenary Corps.
And the 2nd Seat of the Empire.
"Heigelt, will you support the 1st Princess Brigitte?"
Heigelt raised the corners of his mouth at Yuma's direct question.
"Ohoho, are you hoping I will support Princess Brigitte?"
"That will be your choice."
"Heh heh, Yuma. If you continue to support the 1st Princess, I am more than willing to lend a hand. For you are the hero of Astes."
Heigelt was a battle maniac, filled to the bone with a thirst for combat, but his ability to calculate a situation wasn't lacking.
The momentum of the throne struggle had already tilted heavily. Toward the 1st Princess Brigitte.
Yuma having the greatest contribution to the victory in this war would further tip the scales.
And his achievements were too lofty. Having hunted a dragon alone, single-handedly turning the tide of the battlefield — there wouldn't be many nobles willing to make an enemy of someone who could literally be called a one-man army.
"If the 1st Prince tries any foolishness, it's a situation where my mercenary corps could protect the 1st Princess. The troops I've brought now aren't even the entirety of my forces. The Hallow banner is active throughout the Empire. The network I've built over my 60 years of life is quite extensive."
"You're quicker at calculating than I thought."
Heigelt clicked his tongue and grinned slyly.
"I'm not quick at calculating. I just have high survival instincts."
Having secured the wide-footed Heigelt to prepare for any unforeseen incidents against the 1st Princess Brigitte, Yuma ended the conversation, entered his personal barracks, and closed his eyes.
From tomorrow, another forced march awaited, heading toward where the White Night Clan was.
***
The hot sun of dawn rose.
Yuma lifted the entrance flap of the barracks.
"...."
Someone was already waiting for him. Cassiela, leader of the Dawn Revolutionary Group.
Her red hair was tied up tightly.
Yuma slowly opened his mouth.
"Take good care of the 1st Princess. Cassiela."
Cassiela bowed deeply from her waist.
"Yes, Yuma-nim."
Cassiela would go up to the capital and become a strength for the 1st Princess Brigitte.
"Please return safely."
Yuma slowly nodded.
"Yes, wait for me. In the capital."
Cassiela smiled brightly at Yuma's words.
As he came outside,
"Yuma! Time to go?"
Hestia, the Cat Tribe swordswoman, approached with her ears perked up.
Yuma draped the red cloak over his black coat.
The red cloak that Conqueror King Kamet had worn, the symbol of an emperor ruling over vast lands.
The red cloak billowed.
"Yes, we're departing."
Yuma, Cloné, Hestia.
The three of them headed for the border zone, escorted by twenty knights.
Considering it was hastily constructed for the ceasefire negotiations, a rather presentable barracks came into view.
Seureuk-
As Yuma opened the door and entered, someone abruptly stood up.
It was Great Warrior Martes, who had become the lead negotiator for Pyneton.
"God of War...!"
Martes knelt without hesitation.
"Stand."
Martes hurriedly rose to his feet.
It was a situation where three out of the five great warriors had died.
The Conqueror King's son was now only 11 years old.
He was far too insufficient to ascend the throne.
Martes was a man who might well become the king of Pyneton.
Leading the ceasefire negotiations now, he could actually be seen as the most powerful candidate.
But Martes did not intend to bring out any sense of pride before just one person, Yuma.
The more he dwelled on the majesty Yuma had displayed on the battlefield, the more his fear had transformed into awe.
"An official notice will have reached all of Pyneton's warriors. Not to lay a finger on the one wearing the Conqueror King's red cloak and his party. And... please accept this."
Martes held out two items.
One was a bronze plate engraved with a lion. The other was a map.
"This bronze plate is a badge carried by the kingdom's great warriors. You can use it for identification within Pyneton. And this is a map of the kingdom."
Chak-
Yuma spread the map he was handed.
"Though I dare not guess what business you have in our country, developed areas are remarkably scarce outside the capital and its nearby cities."
Yuma slowly scanned the map.
"I suggest you find a guide through the mercenary corps or information guilds scattered throughout the kingdom. I would like to assign you an escort myself... but compared to knights or soldiers, they are far more capable as guides for a mission."
Yuma also had no intention of asking Martes to arrange a guide.
Countless warriors of Pyneton, including Martes, now viewed Yuma as a divine being rather than a human, but even so, he was undoubtedly the regicide who had killed their king.
A guide contracted with money was far better than knights and soldiers.
"Understood."
On the map, Yuma's destination, the <Gelpiel Forest>, was also clearly marked in the continental common language.
'The path is quite tangled, though.'
The saint's oracle stating that the <White Night Clan> was beyond the Gelpiel Forest.
The probability of a saint's oracle being wrong was exceedingly low.
'I have to find a guide to lead us just to the front of the Gelpiel Forest.'
Having sorted out his thoughts, Yuma neatly rolled the map back up and put it in his subspace pouch.
"Thank you. Martes."
Martes bowed his back.
"Once you've finished your business, before returning to the Empire, please seek out this Martes once more."
"Understood."
Though it would depend on the situation at that time.
Yuma left the barracks.
Martes kept his back deeply bowed until Yuma had completely exited.
"Let's go."
Cloné and Hestia, who were waiting outside the barracks, approached Yuma.
"Yes, Yuma-nim."
"Yeah, Yuma."
The border line.
Nearly a thousand barbarian warriors were lined up in perfect formation in front of the border.
Yuma stepped onto the border line without hesitation.
The Conqueror King's red cloak draped over his black coat billowed.
It was the cloak of the dead Conqueror King.
A thousand warriors knelt on their right knees in unison.
"Show respect to the great warrior—!!"
"Show respect to the great warrior—!!"
It was respect for the one who had defeated their king.
It was an acknowledgment of defeat.
Thus, it was a posture of submission they had taken.
The barbarian nation of Pyneton, accustomed to forcing others into submission, had now met with complete submission themselves.
Yuma's party entered Pyneton.