The Mercenary's Testimony
Allow me to take it from here.
………
The Sergen delegation, you say? Yes, I was there that day too.
Oh, me? I'm Hildegard Pechter — a mercenary from the eastern Empire.
I'd just finished a contract escorting a trade caravan north to the Grand Duke's seat, and I was lingering in Eisenfels for a while. That day, the market square was abuzz with such a commotion that I wedged myself in among the onlookers. Well, I've always been a bit too curious for my own good.
And thanks to that little bit of sightseeing, I got to witness the most astonishing thing I have ever seen in my life.
A Sergen warrior — Volgar, was it? In any case, that creature — was bringing his axe down on the neck of a fallen soldier. And at that very moment, a blonde young lady stepped out of the crowd and caught the blade with her gauntleted hand.
I swear it's true. Honestly, I still don't fully understand it myself.
That enormous hulk was swinging down a two-handed axe with everything he had, fully intending to take a head. Anything that connects with a blow like that is supposed to split in two, armor or no armor!
But she caught it! With her hand! I'd stake my life on it.
Though the truly important part came after that.
As everyone in the square that day will tell you, the axe blade in the lady's grip began to crumple. Like paper. That skin-crawling sound of metal folding in on itself still rings in my ears.
…Right. Let me catch my breath for a moment.
One thing led to another, and a short duel broke out between that blonde lady and the Sergen barbarian. It was a fascinating fight, really.
It happened almost as soon as the duel began. The pretty young lady dodged the giant's axe, scrambled up onto his back, and started choking him out.
I've learned any number of fighting arts over my years as a mercenary, and I have never seen a choke like that. One arm wrapped around the man's throat while the other worked as a lever, and in the space of a breath, he put that massive frame to sleep!
The identity of the lady who pulled off such an absurd feat was none other than Katerina Eisenmark — the Grand Duke of the North's own daughter.
After watching that duel, I decided to stay in Eisenfels for the time being. It seemed only a matter of time before open conflict broke out with Sergen, and where there's war, there's good money to be made.
While I waited for it, I had nothing to do, so I set about earning my keep. Room and board don't pay for themselves, after all.
My method was simple: I'd stake money on myself and fight matches in the market square, collecting an appearance fee from the organizers while I was at it. Quite a tidy little arrangement, actually.
I was riding a comfortable winning streak and lining my pockets, when an odd silhouette among the spectators caught my eye. A young lady with a hood pulled low, whose figure was strangely, naggingly familiar.
I have a decent eye for faces. It's a skill you pick up rolling with the mercenary trade — I call it right nine times out of ten. And the Grand Duke's daughter's face and build, I had memorized in perfect clarity from the duel with that Sergen barbarian.
I deliberately walked up to her and struck up a conversation — which amounted to throwing down a challenge. And as expected, she accepted on the spot.
The next day, at the same place, the match began. I swung my woldo first, and she blocked it with her shield, and —
A jolt like a struck bell ran up my arm. The recoil was worse than hacking at solid bedrock.
Yes. In that instant, I understood. What the Grand Duke's daughter was carrying was no ordinary shield reinforced with iron bands over wood. It was cut from a single solid mass of steel — the kind of thing no ordinary person could even carry, let alone lug around.
How many exchanges was it… the fourteenth, maybe? By then, my entire repertoire lay stripped bare. My spearwork, praised wherever I'd ever fought, was rendered as useless as a trainee's toy.
It felt as though she already knew every move before I made it. If I feinted left, her shield was already covering the right; when I spun my blade to strike at her helm, it was already rising to meet me.
In the end, I even resorted to killing techniques you'd never use in a friendly match. Quick thrusts aimed at the gaps in armor, low swings for the knees — nothing worked. From behind that shield, only those ruby eyes regarded me, calm and analytic, as if taking my measure.
My stamina draining with every exchange, out of answers entirely, I threw my final die.
My so-called finishing move: leaping high into the air and bringing the woldo down in a single descending strike — force enough to cleave a man in two, armor and all.
Looking back now, using a technique like that against not just a sparring partner, but a high noble… I had clearly lost my mind.
What I saw from midair, right after I leapt, is burned into my memory to this day: the armored lady letting go of her shield.
That absurdly heavy slab of steel came spinning toward me like a toy discus thrown by a street performer. Everything seemed to slow down.
I couldn't dodge. When the shield struck my chest, the air burst from my lungs and my body went flying backward through the air.
How do I describe that impact?
Well — back in the war, I once took a charge from a knight in full plate, barding and all, at full gallop. It was like that. No — if anything, it might have been worse.
By sheer luck, my armor was a good one, and I twisted my body on pure instinct enough to take it at an angle, so I didn't die — but as I lay sprawled on the ground where the thrown shield had left me, only one thought circled in my head.
This woman is not human.
I'm not exaggerating. It was my sincere conviction. How could a human being wield a shield forged from one solid block of steel so freely — and throw it, no less?
Again: most people can barely lift the thing. And she hurled it with the precision of a weapon. There was only one conclusion left to draw, I'm telling you.
And that "not-quite-human young lady" saved my life today. Honestly, I still can't quite believe it.
Oh — before I forget. I did refuse her offer to join her royal guard. I told her that losing a match didn't automatically make me someone's subordinate.
My reasoning was sound, wasn't it? "You lost a one-on-one duel, so come work under me." Honestly.
Apparently it's the custom in the North to swear fealty over a contest of arms, but in the Empire… well, that's the sort of thing you'd hear from a back-alley gang, not a noble house. Ha.
And yet — even after I turned down the young lady's… ahem, the Grand Duke's daughter's offer, she didn't hesitate for a second when my life was on the line. When I was trapped in that inn with no way out, she came for me even at the risk of colliding head-on with the Empire's legal officers.
You're asking why I was in such a dangerous situation in the first place?
I helped the losing side in a feud between landed houses. Helped them quite a lot, in fact — gave the other side one hell of a headache.
But my employer lost in the end, and after some time passed, the winners came looking to settle the score with me.
The moment the legal officers and soldiers were about to smash into my room, the young lady suggested we leap out through the second-story window. Clad in that heavy full plate, carrying that solid steel shield and all!
Personally, I'd already decided I'd rather jump than rot in that room or be dragged off in chains — but honestly, from that height, the odds of surviving the fall were close to nil.
It was far too high not to be injured, and soldiers were already waiting beneath the window.
And yet — the Grand Duke's daughter slammed her shield into the ground first, then rolled with the impact to bleed off the force before coming up on her feet as naturally as anything. A wildly unorthodox landing technique, but it worked.
The soldiers waiting below? They were one punch away, that's all. Four of them attacked at once, and all four ended up flattened by her shield and fists.
I managed to jump down after her, and the three of us ran for it — only to find more soldiers waiting at the mouth of the alley. They moved to arrest me, saying that if I resisted, they'd execute me on the spot.
That was when the Grand Duke's daughter stepped forward. She walked right up to the legal officer who'd sneered at her —
— and hurled at him a string of profanity that made me doubt my own ears. I was thoroughly flustered for a moment, but that was only the beginning.
The next instant, she put her shield forward and charged the pike wall. The soldiers' spears struck her shield — and snapped like firewood under an axe.
That terrifying sight was, truly… magnificent. She simply bulldozed the obstacle — a good dozen soldiers — through sheer force. Every man who stood in her way was launched into the air and sent tumbling.
I have stood on any number of battlefields, and I have never seen anything like it. In the end, the legal officer fled in terror.
What happened after, you already know: we made it safely back to the citadel. Her mage treated my ankle, and there's nothing wrong with it now.
I'm a rough-and-tumble mercenary, sure, but I'm not so far gone as to be blind to gratitude — or to loyalty.
That night, she saved my life. Even though I had refused her offer — a refusal that was, admittedly, part of a negotiation to squeeze out the highest price I could for my contract.
If those soldiers had taken me, I'd already be dead.
Watching that pack of Imperial soldiers leave the citadel from the window, I felt a profound relief wash over me. And toward the Grand Duke's daughter, I felt a gratitude that words could not carry.
Anyone who has seen her handle Sergen warriors or Imperial soldiers will marvel at her strength. But what left the deeper mark on me was not the strength itself — it was how she chooses to use it.
Risking herself for a stranger with no ties to her, no claim on her… that's a rare thing to see in the Empire, honestly. Rarer still for someone who has lived by the sword as I have.
Yes, part of accepting her offer was cold arithmetic — I could secure better terms from her than from any ordinary employer.
But if I'm being honest, after seeing what I saw, refusing was the harder thing to do. Fighting alongside a leader who carries both that kind of power and that kind of consideration? That's a rather attractive proposition.
Anyway… a new land, new people, a new trade. A fresh start.
It's not how I imagined things turning out, but I hope it goes well.
For me — and for her.