Episode 48: Knights Cling to Nobles Like Iron to Magnets
Iron filings stick to magnets, and knights stick to nobles. It's a fact anyone knows without needing to run experiments in a science lab. A knight makes his living by violence. But no matter how skilled with a sword, a knight is still human and needs to eat. That's why every knight needs a patron to "feed" him. In this medieval fantasy world, that patron was, of course, a noble.
Nobles are, in a word, landlords. Untouchable like gods. The difference from modern landlords? They own the tenants in their buildings too! Beat them if they want, evict them if they want, seize whatever they want. Nobles can do that. Why? Because dogs, cows, and humans are all their property! But unlike dogs and cows, humans know how to lodge serious complaints. When a noble kicks over their dinner, flips up their skirts, and acts like a total asshole, they march right up and say, "Milord! Is this any way to treat me? Is this proper?" Meaning: Keep screwing around, and I'll screw around right back.
That's why smart nobles don't mistreat their peasants. They know brute force might quiet things down short-term, but it won't last. But it depends on the situation. If the noble's house is on fire, peasant suffering be damned—they'll strip them bare and sell it all. Nobles can do that. Why? Because the people on their land are theirs.
"I shall bestow a pouch of silver coins upon those who perform great deeds."
Lucy Talian declared solemnly. Her noble patron had opened her coin purse to the knights and mercenaries. She looked like a spoiled girl fooling around with Ian earlier, but putting on a show in front of everyone, she passed decently for a young noble.
Lucy promised the knights and mercenaries generous pay once the job was done. Where would penniless Lucy get the money? Simple: shake down the moneybags scattered across her domain (her peasants)! Nobles can do that. Lords hold judicial, administrative, and military power—they're kings in their own right. That's the backdrop to why French nobles lost their heads during the Revolution... (etc., omitted).
She'd even strip the family graveyard to gift Ian a sword, so squeezing peasants didn't faze her. Lucy wasn't especially cruel or harsh; she was just average for a lord of this era. That's why peasants suffer passively when war breaks out.
With the noble promising coin, knights began joining Lucy's fight one by one.
"Even if but briefly, I served Countess Catania! With my lord fallen, avenging her is a knight's duty!"
Knights who would've gone home without pay now spouted nonsense about honor and duty to join up. Convenient excuses all around.
"Ian. I want to join the battle too."
Belenca came for Ian's permission. He was about to say go ahead when a thought struck him.
"That won't come out of your pay, will it?"
"Isn't that obvious?"
"Hmm."
Belenca was a freelancer. She got paid for the work she did. Sending her into battle shortened her "shelf life." But...
Whatever. Ian shrugged. He wasn't some paranoid merchant hiding Guan Yu. Hold her back from glory just in case she leaves after? That was backwards. She was hired to fight, so send her to the front.
"Three tenths."
"?"
"If we win this war, I'll forgive three-tenths of my debt."
"...You decide that?"
"Not arbitrarily. Wandering knights have set rates."
It was the knights' code, so Ian nodded. As a mage, he didn't know knight business. Nor did he care.
"Fine. Go fight however you want."
"Thanks for permitting it."
Sir Dikedo swiftly reorganized the baron's army and prepared for battle. Truth be told, the countess's army (now baron's) hadn't suffered much real damage despite her death. Nearly 300 soldiers had rallied here, meaning most of their strength remained.
"Mage Ian."
Sir Dikedo approached Ian.
"...Sorry we're so late."
"For what?"
"The knights insulting you."
Insulting? Right, that happened. Before the fight, knights had bragged, "Hmph! We can win without your help!" Dikedo had taken it to heart. Maybe middle-aged delicacy, or perhaps after Ian's repeated aid, he'd grown to care.
"Water under the bridge."
"Glad you see it that way."
Dikedo glanced back. Surprisingly, the knights still glared at Ian. They suspected sorcery in poaching Belenca... or envied his dazzling exploits. Ian ignored it. Since becoming a mage, he'd grown far thicker-skinned. Knights hate me? So what?
"That said... Ian... could I trouble you for your magic again...?"
Ian nodded. This time, he'd join even if the knights protested. He couldn't trust those idiots, Belenca notwithstanding. He'd finish it himself.
"Truly grateful!"
Dikedo beamed, but the knights weren't pleased.
"What foul scheme now...?"
"Sir Dikedo, do you really need a mage? We can win alone!"
"You lot! What nonsense!"
"If we win with mage help, the world will mock us as incompetents! Aren't you ashamed as a knight, sir?!"
Dikedo's face flushed beet-red—not shame, but fury. The knights' antics were embarrassing too, but...
"You who lost this war dare speak of glory now?!"
"But..."
Ian strode up to the grumbling knights. Just then, Oberon swooped from the woods onto his shoulder.
"Caw! Caw!"
The mage approaching with staff and raven perched suddenly... the knights tensed, eyeing him warily. They hated mages but feared magic.
"Got a problem? Leave."
"Leave? You telling us that?!"
"Yeah. I don't need schemers like you before a fight. Get out of the way."
"Arrogant mage! War is for knights! Think you can win without us?"
"Yep. Got Belenca, and way more troops. Why wouldn't we?"
"A green mage lecturing knights? Even a stray dog would laugh..."
"Oh, you're the experts? Then why'd you lose?"
"..."
The knights shut up, faces crimson at Ian's jabs. Tell a loser "you suck" and even gods go quiet. Mere knights? Easy.
"Couldn't stop one Black Knight, got pierced centrally, failed to protect the countess—and now claim we can't win without you? Isn't it the opposite? We'd have won without you?"
As Ian's barbs flew, Dikedo approached cautiously.
"Ian, let me handle—"
"I'm not done!"
Rumble! Ian bellowed, and wind and earth stirred chaotically. No Maronius tongue, but he was a mage. His will operated on another plane. The mysteries sensed his irritation and peeked back nervously!
"...!"
The knights startled as earth and wind answered the mage's rage. They lost the will to argue.
"At dusk, we attack Greim again. Join me or leave. That's all."
Ian glared around and vanished into the woods.
The debate left some knights' participation iffy. Some would join Ian; others flee. But one thing was sure...
'As expected of the mage... incredible magic!'
'With that mage, we can't lose!'
He'd instilled infinite trust in the mercenaries!
Umbrakinesis – Pitch-Black Veil
Greim's army spent an uneasy night. Yesterday, they'd killed Countess Catania. A sticky situation for Greim. Capturing her would've ended the war cleanly, but killing her left room for someone to take command. Even her vassals charging for revenge wouldn't be odd. Greim could jump in outrage: 'She invaded to kill me—why blame me?' Vassals would retort: 'Just punish her! Who said kill?'
Noble society's complexities. The countess hadn't invaded for land (technically true) but to save her beloved niece. Officially. So... no crime, right? Greim was the villain for killing her. Battle deaths? Nobles don't know such things!
"Found Talian yet?"
"No, sir. Soldiers fear the woods..."
Greim and his men had witnessed yesterday's bolt from the blue. At first, crazy weather—but rumors said a mage tricked them into villainy. Classic "that guy's using witchcraft!" No physical damage, just crushed morale. Without the win, the unit might've collapsed.
"Damn it. We need that girl...!"
Greim itched with anxiety. He'd wanted Lucy before, but now his life hung on her. Capturing her offered a way out. If he became Talian lord via marriage, the countess's death demoted to "family matter." Tough, but better than now. Should've pressed yesterday... but mage panic stalled pursuit. Snowball rolling.
"Boss! Big trouble!"
"What."
"Enemies regrouping! They plan to fight again!"
"Vengeful knights? Or..."
"Talian, probably."
"Yeah, likely Talian."
Greim prepped for round two. Win here, and it was truly over. Last shot at Lucy!
At dusk, enemies crept into view. Greim in chainmail and helm scowled.
"Isn't that the Black Knight?"
"Yes, sir."
"Betrayal at this timing..."
Yesterday's ally Black Knight now led the baron's vanguard. Trumpets blared; baron's army charged the hill.
Greim swung his sword. "Attack!"
Battle still favored Greim numerically. But he commanded desperately. Leading from front, his force clashed fiercely despite odds. Soldiers tangled, foes tumbled in melee chaos. Indiscernible melee, just like yesterday.
But the baron's army had two big changes. First: the Black Knight. Belenca wreaked havoc, shredding lines. Fatal for the outnumbered.
But compared to the second threat, she was nothing.
"Wh-what...?"
"The sky! The sky's darkening!"
Mage Ian cast from the rear. Dusk, no torches yet. Perfect for an Umbrakinesis user.
"Darkness!"
"[Human! We're here!]"
"[Drape over the front!]"
⟨ Pitch-Black Veil ⟩
Ian summoned familiar darkness with practiced ease.
He blanketed enemy center in massive shadow fog. No burning, striking, killing—just pure dark.
But it flipped the battlefield.
"Magic! The mage is casting!"
"Damn it! Do something!"
"Can't see shit—how?!"
Over 50 soldiers flailed in the veil. Total pandemonium.
...We'll win.
Ian watched from afar. Even coordinated pushes were iffy; rear chaos doomed them.
Proof: Front buckled under Black Knight's charge, starting to retreat.
But rear didn't fall back. Why? Couldn't see!
Who fought where? Winning or losing? No clue. Front-rear collision...
Greim's army collapsed into commandless ruin. The usurper's force crumbled.