Chapter 42
Chapter 42
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 42
Chapter Title: Homecoming and the Knighting
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"One, two, three!"
"Hup!"
The villagers and I pooled our strength, shoving with all our might at the wagon mired in the mud and thrashing helplessly.
Finally, the wheels—which had been spinning uselessly—gripped the ground and lurched forward.
The villagers let out a triumphant cheer, as if a festering tooth had just been yanked free.
I shared in their small joy, brushing the dirt from my hands and clothes alongside them.
"Oh, thank you!"
The road was a slushy mess of thawed earth, the kind of path where wheels sank constantly and tempers could fray.
Yet the villagers endured with endless patience, pushing and pushing the wagon to the end.
True to their northern grit.
I waved off their grateful thanks with a pleased grin and trudged back to the head of the column.
No time to rest.
Glancing back, I saw the endless migration snaking down from the mountainside.
"Come on, everyone! Just a bit more!"
"We're almost there!"
It had been a full fortnight since we'd left the village with this migration in tow.
The sheer numbers had slowed us far more than the outbound trip, but reaching here without major losses was a miracle in itself.
With that last ridge crossed, only the ridge base lay ahead.
Once we traversed it safely, we'd enter the territory of the village we'd built.
We were returning a month or two ahead of schedule—wouldn't that be a surprise.
I scanned the familiar landscape emerging ahead, exhaling a sigh of relief.
Then the Gray Wolf, who had been surveying the surroundings just like me, spoke up.
"Perfect terrain for farming."
"The site's a good one."
Unlike the wolf village, hemmed in by mountains, our settlement nestled in a balanced mix of peaks, forests, and plains.
Natural resources aplenty, and yields from cold-climate crops promised to be bountiful.
Food production meant population growth.
For us, destined to expand, every detail from one to ten demanded consideration.
Still, judging by the Gray Wolf's expression, he seemed satisfied—more than expected.
Seizing the moment, I opened my mouth to lay out our future plans in detail.
"Multiple unidentified riders appearing! Approaching rapidly from that direction!"
Shing!
But in that instant, a scout dashed up from patrol, breathless, reporting a cluster of riders nearby.
The Gray Wolf and I drew our swords in unison and bolted; the waiting Huskarls snatched up their weapons and followed.
Riders appearing out of nowhere.
Had some other force claimed the area while I'd been away?
Face grim, I stuck close behind the Gray Wolf, peering out at the distant plain.
As the scout said, about ten riders were charging across the vast flatland.
"Hm?"
Something was off.
These weren't foes on horseback—they rode massive white-horned deer.
I let out a laugh, reassuring the Gray Wolf.
"It's our villagers."
"...You'd tamed white-horned deer too?"
"Nah, probably not."
Unlike those elsewhere, the white-horned deer here had something special about them.
"Tamed" in the human sense likely didn't apply.
I still remembered their leader, a mystical creature born of nature itself.
Clop, clop, clop, clop!
Snort!
Just ten riders, yet their presence was imposing.
One of the fast-approaching group—a familiar face—dismounted and grinned broadly.
"Liege! It really is you! I nearly jumped out of my skin thinking orcs were coming!"
"Everything alright back at the village?"
"Yes, sir! Peaceful as ever—more than ever!"
Without messengers ahead, the village had been caught off guard too.
But recognition cleared up the misunderstanding quick enough.
Now it finally felt real—we'd arrived.
I asked the beaming rider to guide us and hopped up behind him on the white-horned deer.
"Impressive. I've never seen white-horned deer this big. If you just loop the reins like this... Gah?!"
Snort!
I told him they weren't tamed.
The Gray Wolf, reaching to pat the spirited beast, took a horn to the chest.
Clop, clop, clop, clop!
As the migrants trudged onward, I rode ahead to the village on deerback.
I needed to apologize to Red Iron and the Village Chief for startling them and start planning countermeasures.
Crossing the plain swiftly, I spotted the village in the distance—palisades enclosing it on all sides.
Less than three months since departure, yet the growth was staggering.
I asked the rider urging the deer along.
"The central axis went up fast."
"Ah, yes! The village population's boomed."
More people meant more labor.
They'd thrown the influx of settlers into the construction, it seemed.
The scale rivaled even the wolf village, which I'd thought solid.
Steep progress, worthy of Red Iron's obsession with high walls and defenses.
Clop, clop, clop, clop!
Snort!
The palisades drew near.
A sturdy main gate—far stronger than before—and a crowd already waiting to greet me.
Familiar faces: Red Iron and the Village Chief.
I leaped nimbly from the trumpeting deer and strode toward them.
But someone beat me to it, grabbing my collar.
"You mad bastard!"
Red Iron had spotted the massive migrant column trailing behind and seized me.
His face drained of soul, he shook me by the scruff like a rag.
The reaction I'd expected.
They were already overwhelmed by slash-and-burn settlers, and now I'd dragged in this horde unannounced.
The Village Chief watched with cold eyes, understanding all too well.
But we couldn't linger.
I wasn't the only guest charging in on white-horned deer.
Clop, clop, clop!
Snort!
"Long time no see, Red Iron."
"...Gray Wolf?"
Just as the Gray Wolf and I shared a long history with these two, they had their own bond.
Red Iron had forged that massive greatsword stroke by stroke, after all.
Red Iron, reuniting with the Gray Wolf after ages, offered a glad handshake—then turned to me.
"An incomprehensible pair. Broken Sword, did you bring him here?"
Having adventured with me for years as my ally, Red Iron knew the lingering awkwardness between me and the Gray Wolf all too well.
So seeing us roll up all chummy must've short-circuited his brain.
How to explain?
Memories of the wolf village flooded back; I opened and closed my mouth, groping for words.
But the Gray Wolf clapped my shoulder—why bother with longwinded talk?—and cut in.
"We've decided to join forces."
Right—short and sweet.
Once the hardened wax of misunderstanding flaked away, understanding dawned.
We'd crossed the once-vague years; now we'd walk the final road together.
"What do you... Ah."
Red Iron stared between us, baffled at first.
Then he read something in our sealed lips and gave a limp laugh.
"...Damn it, we're gonna be swamped. The wife's been side-eyeing me lately."
"Red Iron, you're married?"
"What?! So?!"
It'd been ages since the three of us gathered like this.
We chatted idly by the gate, quietly chewing over old times.
Stories left untold piled high.
We'd pull an all-nighter and still fall short.
The influx—and this massive migration—had exploded the village population.
To the point where, by raw headcount, we'd surpassed the targets I'd pegged for a full year.
We'd outgrown "village" territory entirely.
With housing for all, essential infrastructure, and stone walls raised, it could pass for a small city.
The Northern Kingdom's rebirth—from nothing—was hurtling forward beyond imagination.
But we couldn't view it all rosy.
Unprepared growth bred backlash.
Housing shortages topped the list.
Today's migrants from the wolf village were camping outside the safe inner walls in tents.
If this hardened without fixes, shantytowns would sprout, breeding crime and labor flight.
Army formation, manpower allocation, food rations, tax collection, field seeding—the worries stacked endless.
Domain management wove everything organically into a profound, intricate web.
One slip, and the kingdom's foundation plunged into chaos.
That's when I felt the need.
Time to teach administrative duties—not just parcel them out—to Snow-Covered, heir to the throne, and the leadership.
'T-The master's brain is spinning like mad.'
'...Hm, no clue what you mean.'
Anyone in a key post got dragged into mandatory training.
Some grumbled—they were far from desk work—but this was vital hands-on know-how, meat and bone for the field.
This time, I led them sternly, molding them into capable officials and loyal king's men.
Days blurred: work by day, huddled nightly learning admin.
On the stroke of the month’s end, I formally appointed the leadership.
Chief Administrator overseeing domain affairs: the steadfast Village Chief.
Security Chief for the booming populace: the veteran patrol captain.
Treasurer for precious northern ores and goods: Red Iron.
Military command—the domain's heart—we split three ways: Blue Hand, Gray Wolf, and me.
But the pivotal unfilled seat remained.
The lord of Northflame, human domain symbolizing northern revival: Snow-Covered.
Knight before king—that was the Knight King.
Before the domain advanced further, this legitimacy rite was essential.
Before all assembled, I knelt Snow-Covered and intoned gravely.
'Who are you?'
'Heir to the great Knight King.'
'I know no such man. Who are you?'
'Disciple of the honorable Sword Saint, Broken Sword.'
'I know no such child. Who are you?'
'Snow-Covered, mere human.'
'Then take up the sword.'
I drew the Knight King's blade, borne alone for eight years.
Laid it atop her upraised hands, like crowning with a diadem.
The king's sword thrummed, joyful at reunion with its master.
Eyes stinging shut, I proclaimed solemnly to all gathered.
'By the sovereign authority granted me, I declare: today, another knight is born upon this land. If any oppose her standing, step forward now and draw steel.'
No one advanced.
All present blessed the new knight's birth with one heart.