Chapter 135
Chapter 135
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 135
Chapter Title: Master Craftsman Luke
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Master Craftsman Luke.
He was a genius blacksmith and engineer who provided immense help to the protagonist's party.
Thanks to the siege weapons he developed, they won crucial sieges, and the sword and spear he crafted were second to none compared to any famed blade or lance.
Yet he died so pointlessly.
"Is that... true? He got caught up in the Western tribes' massacre...?"
"Yeah. Even the head blacksmith at the workshop only found out recently. At first, they thought he'd run off because blacksmith training was too tough, but apparently not."
Luke hailed from the western reaches of Byulang, where the massacre had just occurred.
When Svenner and the Western tribes invaded the west, he grew worried about his parents and returned home.
Then he got swept up in the Westerners' indiscriminate slaughter and died.
'No way...'
One of the seven retainers gone just like that. It felt akin to losing Olaf or Lutger. That's the kind of importance Luke held for Als.
Still, there was no way to recruit him early.
He was simply too young.
At this point in time, Luke was only thirteen. Just two years ago, he'd been an eleven-year-old kid who hadn't even started blacksmith training.
That's why I'd postponed meeting him until now.
Who could've guessed it would lead to this.
A butterfly effect-born mishap.
I felt like a vital piece had shattered.
Like losing a fragment absolutely essential for the future.
"..."
"But why were you interested in that kid anyway?"
Gaspar asked, puzzled. Beneath it lurked a protest: why task me with background checks on some nobody brat? Naturally, he'd see it that way. On the surface, Luke was just an ordinary person.
"There were reasons."
"Whatever. He's dead now, so it doesn't matter. If you want proof, I can go dig up the corpse myself."
"...Yes. Please investigate. But don't push yourself."
"Got it."
Gaspar accepted without complaint. Lately, he was always in high spirits, handling even tedious tasks willingly.
'Leave the investigation to Gaspar...'
Luke was probably dead. I had that gut feeling.
'What's done is done. Best to forget it quick.'
Though Luke's recruitment had fallen through due to this freak accident, I couldn't just mope.
I could always find another blacksmith somehow. I had to shake it off with that conviction.
'At least secure the remaining seven retainers for sure.'
Saintess Alicia was one thing, but not Meisen.
If my guess was right, I could snag her in one shot.
That evening after enrollment procedures.
Having wrapped up Rainpole affairs for now and belatedly joined Platon with Olaf, I summoned him to my room.
"Whew! What's up? If it's a long talk, can it wait till tomorrow? I'm beat from riding in that carriage all day."
"It'll be quick."
"Hope so."
I cut straight to it.
"Do you know anything about someone named Meisen Loipier?"
"...Why do you ask?"
"Met her today. She tried slapping me out of nowhere. Figured you'd have some insight."
"Whoa! She went for it right away? That girl's got guts."
"As expected. She's connected to you. What is she to you?"
"We go way back to childhood. Before I holed up in the estate, we were briefly engaged."
That cleared it up.
The reason Meisen hated me, and why she became one of the seven retainers in the game. Both tied to Olaf.
"Eurofe thinks Wade killed me. Meisen probably does too."
"Call her over soon and clear the misunderstanding. Then bring her to our side."
"Bring her? Meisen?"
"Yes. Methods are up to you."
"Wait. You're saying betray her homeland? I can't..."
"Isn't it the same in the end? If we conquer the continent, we'll hit Eurofe eventually. Even a peaceful annexation changes nothing—she'd still be one of us. So let's bring her in now. Any counterarguments?"
"But she has her own life there..."
"No need to defect immediately. She'll need time to prepare mentally. Just get a promise for now."
"Why go so far for Meisen? She's not cut out for war, to be frank."
"We don't just do war. What else could it be? Is Meisen Loipier lacking in talent?"
"No. She'd handle any internal affairs fine. Even leading a medical unit on the battlefield, she'd manage."
"That's plenty."
"..."
Olaf pondered briefly. He knew my logic held.
Imagining facing her as enemies later, he nodded bitterly.
"You're right. Better make an ally of someone you don't want as a foe sooner rather than later. Leave it to me."
That sealed Meisen's recruitment. To offset losing Luke, I'd wrap hers up swiftly.
*
*
*
I pushed aside Luke's death and focused on academy life.
Pensilon Academy's curriculum had kicked off in earnest.
Unlike standard middle or high academies, Pensilon let students choose their own courses. Pure university style.
I racked my brain over course registration.
"So many subjects."
Literature, music, etiquette, agriculture, architecture, culture, swordsmanship, archery, and more. All the electives tallied over forty.
For the mandatory military science for cadets, I picked the low-competition Military Science 8, taught by a Bekavia active-duty officer. Bekavia ranked weakest now, so low demand made sense.
I could've gotten priority into Military Science 7 by Caliper Kingdom officers regardless of competition, but no desire to face those endless rivals here too.
For martial arts, spear or archery tempted, but to avoid needless trouble, I chose swordsmanship under a Crossing native instructor.
Truthfully, these weren't crucial.
My goal was liberal arts and general subjects—the academy's true heavyweights.
Cadet rivalries in military science hinged on national ties, risking injury, so direct competition was limited.
Liberal arts had no injury risk, so free-for-all.
General subjects had exams.
Thus, the fiercest student clashes happened there.
'To contact Alicia, art subjects it is.'
In the game, protagonist met her in music class. She approached, drawn to his beautiful voice.
'Music first. Literature, painting too. Chess. Rest... yeah, social dance.'
Ash's liberal arts pick. Intel squeezed from Lisitea.
No interest in dance or music, but all for talent scouting.
Pensilon skipped a separate entrance ceremony, merging it with Platon's spring festival party. Straight to classes, no fanfare.
Pensilon plunged right into schedules.
First day, everyone flustered. Seniors smirked, calling it tradition.
I faced a pickle too.
'No prep materials mentioned.'
Afternoon painting class. Tradition demanded bringing your own work or a master's.
To gauge newbies and their mentors, supposedly.
Most had prior academy painting, so prepared. Not me.
Learned same-day.
Old me would've bluffed ignorance, but now with public eyes, prep mattered.
Failing military science? Fine.
Failing liberal arts? Scandal. Rumors differ.
Military: mere opinion clash.
Liberal arts: deemed uncultured, overall downgrade. Avoid that.
'Any workaround?'
As I fretted, guarding Eo tilted his head.
"Some worry, sir?"
"...Yeah! Eo, can you paint?"
"Never tried."
"You'd nail it. Your handiwork's unmatched. Best I've seen."
"M-Me, the best?"
"Obviously!"
"Heh heh heh, too kind."
Plane ride worked wonders, as always.
"On that note, paint something?"
"Now?"
"Yeah. Anything. That landscape even."
"..."
Eo hesitated, then spoke.
"If so... could I paint you, Lord Als? I think I could manage you first try."
"Me? Hm... sure."
Problem: posing meant missing morning military science.
"Gotta stir chaos and bail quick. Eo, grab painting tools and wait here."
I hurried to Military Science 8 classroom.
Students already seated in clusters.
Pensilon's military science ran 1 through 8.
Monthly pick one; lower numbers harder to snag.
Due to instructors.
Each by elite dispatched from nations. E.g., Military Science 1 by Albad's General Yussis Goldray. Rarely Grand General Kaien.
Cadets warred over sign-ups for top teachers.
My status granted free pass anywhere, hence Bekavia's 8—safest, no provocations.
Bekavia indirect ally now, no poking me.
Entered relaxed, but familiar face: Sophia Veron at podium.
"What's this? Late and bold as brass—sit. Class starts."
Stunned, I froze; she smirked.
Students buzzed wildly at my entrance.
"Why's Wade here...?"
"He teaching military science?"
"Jackpot! Wade's lessons! Beats Sophia Veron for sure!"
She glared at the last cadet, then coolly began.
'Trouble.'
I'd planned nitpick, chaos, early exit.
But Sophia's class was solid.
Hunting flaws, I finally found a gap.
"Lieutenant Sophia. That's too much, no? Cavalry night raids work with visibility. Open field drops efficiency hard. Still push night raid for first strike?"
She narrowed eyes, questioning the nitpick, then grinned.
"Ah, here we go. Even Wade's mortal. This tactic? Pensilon Empire's at Boztun. Midnight detour with 2,000 cavalry, raid pre-dawn. At sunrise, main force pushes; raiders withdraw, reform, reattack. Miras Principality troops panicked, retreated. Clear?"
"I get it. But seems you missed something, Lieutenant."
"What?"
"Boztun's not that simple. Yes, Miras retreated, but then ambushed pursuing Pensilon forces, annihilating them. Retreat was planned."
"Allowed night raid to lure?"
"Records confirm. See the detour path yourself. No scouts there? What would you do?"
All cadets eyed the battlefield map.
Sophia faltered.
"Scouts likely, but possible miss for some reason."
"Come on. Bank on slim odds for night raid? Failed op, pure luck."
"B-But Fonrei Battle ten years later similar..."
"More losses there. Kaking year prior..."
Night raid efficiency had debate fodder. Viable in right conditions.
Not standard, though; Sophia soon ran dry.
'Bit long-winded.'
Chaos success.
"No more. I'm out."
"W-Where to!"
"You'd just be disrupted. Students won't heed you with me here. Wrong?"
"Not really. They love your debate."
Cadets nodded like chicks, ear-gasm faces.
"...Ugh, just go."
"Pardon?"
"No. Nothing."
Always sensed masochist vibes before.
Despite my nitpicks embarrassing her, Sophia seemed thrilled, craving more talk.
Nauseated, I endured till class end.