Chapter 11
Chapter 11
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: Pact with the Puppet Master
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"Okay, okay. Perfect. Stamp your print here and on the back."
"...Are you sure I can really trust you?"
"Of course, of course. Just trust me. Even if they call me a bug or whatever, I'm still direct lineage of the Shield Family. I don't lie."
Saladin eyed me with a look that screamed utter distrust. Hmm, that gaze. Pretty insolent.
"Hey, for starters, I'm a high noble of the kingdom too, you know?"
At my words, Saladin snorted derisively.
"Hmph! A Black Lion who's still hung up on worldly titles."
What a rude punk.
I was about to call him out on his four missing graces when Saladin had already finished stamping the contract and was double-checking it.
It had taken a long time to track down Saladin and convince him, but once we got to the contract, it was done in a flash.
Of course it was. I needed Saladin. He needed me. Our needs were crystal clear—what was there to drag out?
The deal with Saladin boiled down to two main points.
First, I'd stand with him to defend Mano Territory from the orcs.
Second, I'd make him a source of pride for the Edwin family, so one day he could return to Mano openly and boldly.
In exchange, Saladin would stick by my side and lend a hand for a while.
I'd come here to lure him in, but I had no intention of just sucking him dry one-sidedly.
"Alright, then. Shall we talk business?"
At that, Saladin's eyes gleamed as he laid out his plan.
"The orcs are heading south, but their path is erratic, no set pattern. We fortify defenses in the territory with the viscount..."
I shook my head at Saladin's plan.
"No, that's too late. We intercept the orcs approaching from outside the territory."
"What? Are you insane? If our paths tangle, the damage to the territory will snowball!"
Saladin's eyes turned icy as he said that.
"You're not doing this on purpose because Mano is closer to the Sword Family faction, are you?"
"As if. Use your brain, idiot. Why would orcs living fat in the Dragon Mountains crawl all the way south? What do they have to eat? They're not wandering aimlessly."
I shot back at Saladin with utter conviction.
"Saladin, is there a colony of white flowers near Mano Territory?"
"White flowers?"
"Yeah. A pretty big one."
Saladin answered hesitantly.
"Well... yeah, there's a massive Selezia colony about 10km outside the territory..."
"That's it."
"What?"
"That's the spot the orcs are after. Those flowers in that colony."
Saladin stared at me like I was a complete moron.
Yeah, exactly that look.
-Orcs eating plants?
-Those infamous monsters known for their vile appetites, who would sooner devour their own kin's corpses than resort to plants when starving?
-Can I really trust this guy?
That was the message in his eyes.
"...Look, I get why you're skeptical. But that Selezia is the key to evolving them into High Orcs."
Saladin jolted in surprise at my words. Selezia was a white lily-like flower renowned for soothing mana within the body, used in healing potions.
And it could evolve orcs into High Orcs?
He looked torn, seriously debating whether to buy my absurd claim. But it was undeniable fact.
After all, it was info the old Saladin had told me himself.
I had no idea how the orcs used Selezia to evolve. I just trusted what the past Saladin had said.
After a moment, Saladin scratched his head furiously and looked back at me.
"Fine. Since I'm already in this to help, I'll trust you completely."
No trace of doubt lingered in his eyes anymore.
"So, what do you need me to do?"
"It's such a shame to see you go like this. You should've stayed a few more days."
"No, Viscount. We appreciate the hospitality, but we have a schedule set by the count."
"Haha! Of course, of course. The roads to the border are tricky, so I'll assign guides and laborers. And when you're done, please return to our territory..."
Viscount Edwin saw off our group—no, really Sir Beskin—right up to the end, clearly reluctant.
We'd planned to leave at dawn, but his send-off had delayed us so long that I caught Beskin furrowing his brow.
Man, he doesn't look anything like his son.
As I sank into the carriage with that idle thought, how much time passed?
Finally shaking off Viscount Edwin's farewell, the carriage slowly left Mano Territory toward the border.
About time.
When the terrain started matching the route Saladin had described to reach the colony, I called out to Beskin, who was leading the group.
"You called?"
Beskin, one of the Six Shields of the Carviots, fixed me with an expressionless stare.
Sharp and to the point, as expected. Not much respect in his eyes, though.
"Ah, Beskin. Good timing. Before we head to the border, I want to change course a bit."
"...Change course?"
Beskin echoed my words without a flicker of emotion, but the implication was anything but simple.
The lord of the Shield Family, one of the continent's eleven superhumans—great Bacchus von Carviot—had explicitly ordered us to procure food from Philador Kingdom.
So why detour and waste time? His question demanded explanation, loud and clear. But...
"Yes."
I had zero intention of explaining.
"May I ask why?"
Beskin asked flatly, face unchanged.
Impressive. I'd felt it throughout the journey, but no knight suited the title "Ice" better.
"Nope, you may not. No plans to tell you. Turn around quick."
"...Young Master, this isn't a pleasure trip."
Beskin finally sighed and spoke up.
"As you know, this journey is vital for Banten's future..."
"Hmm, Beskin. Who's in overall charge of this trip?"
"...You are, Young Master."
I flashed him a bright smile.
"Then do as I say. A knight like you, flapping your tongue all willy-nilly."
"......!!"
Veins bulged in Beskin's grip on the reins. Yeah, he took that as an insult.
Beskin returned to the lead without a word. Soon, the guides Viscount Edwin assigned shifted our path toward the Selezia colony.
How dare he...!
Beskin ground his teeth until they nearly cracked.
Who was he? Alongside Arandal, the top of the Six Shields, he upheld neutrality.
Given Arandal's role as the lord's bodyguard—a knight of light—it was hard for him to pick sides, so Beskin was effectively the sole neutral voice.
For one reason alone: neither the eldest son nor the second daughter measured up as heirs to rival their lord, Bacchus von Carviot.
Sure, he'd follow whoever inherited the family later...
But that would just be continuing his loyalty to Bacchus and the house—nothing more, nothing less.
Any fallout? Irrelevant.
He couldn't pick a lord hastily over something like that.
He'd followed this unwelcome assignment without complaint for one reason: the wise lord himself had ordered it.
Yet this third son—never even on his radar as a successor, unlike the others—had mocked him in front of the men and sullied his honor. Even they treaded carefully to recruit him.
-My lord, if I may be so bold, is there a reason I was assigned to this mission?
-Third, keep a close eye on that boy for me. Lately, he feels different from before. Watch his every move and report back exactly what you sense.
The lord's oddly expectant order—no, request—left Beskin unable to refuse.
He'd given his all to fulfill it, but the results were utterly disappointing.
The boy hadn't mingled with the knights once during the trip, never even stepped out to see what he was up to in the carriage.
Even when visiting noble houses, whether the boy took the forefront or hung back, nothing noteworthy.
No other reason.
Just that he'd hoped for something extraordinary, as the lord anticipated.
For it to be this—a pointless detour from schedule?
My lord, if I may presume... I think you've misjudged this time.
Beskin shelved any expectations for the arrogant third son and vowed to obey every order.
To report every error and shortfall to his true lord, Bacchus.
Third son, I'll watch you closely. To see if you're truly worthy of the lord's faith... or just the family bug, trash not even fit for insects.
A deep night where even the moon hid away.
A shadowy figure stealthily approached the camp on the mountainside en route to the Selezia colony.
"Judging by the orcs' pace, they'll hit the colony by midday tomorrow. You're right—they're obsessed with those white flowers."
Saladin reported after observing the orcs all day per my instructions.
"Good. We'll head to the Selezia colony by noon tomorrow. You lure him there by then."
"What? Man! I nearly got my head smashed today getting close. How the hell am I supposed to lure—?!"
"Figure it out yourself. You're the Puppet Master, aren't you?"
"You little sh—!"
Saladin cut off mid-curse and vanished outside the camp.
Probably sensed someone nearing via his 'threads'.
The conversation ended without him finishing his gripe, but I had full faith he'd pull it off. Even regressing to the past, Saladin was Saladin.
"I believe in you."
I muttered alone, but I was sure he'd heard.
How much time passed?
Soon, a figure entered my tent.
The Ice Knight, Beskin.
"Young Master Third, do you have a moment?"
"Ah, sure. What's on your mind?"
Beskin cut straight to it.
"Young Master Third, turn back the journey now. Apologize for impulsively altering the schedule. Do that, and I'll consider your earlier insult nonexistent."
"Hmm."
I tilted my head and scratched my chin.
The Ice Knight, Beskin. Fanatically loyal to his father, Bacchus von Carviot—obsessed, even.
Neither brother nor sister had ever won his heart with that ironclad devotion.
In the end, when Bacchus perished gloriously in the great hall, he'd followed suit immediately.
A prickly one, but suddenly it hit me.
Flip side: win him over, and that unbreakable loyalty to father could become mine.
Alright, decision made. Got Saladin—now let's cook Beskin too.
To bring this stick-up-the-ass knight under my wing...
"...Nah, don't wanna."
First, shatter that rigid posture of his to pieces.