Chapter 103
Chapter 103
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 103
Chapter Title: Falcon Reinforcements
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Fland was a traditional castle town.
Inside the outer walls over ten meters high, the urban district where ordinary residents lived had been developed, and at the innermost part, a deep moat five meters wide—drawn from the Fland River—separated the outer castle from the main keep, where the inner castle had been built.
The main keep served as the mayor’s residence and city hall. Since it housed the city’s officials, their families, and even some of the guards, it was quite large and expansive.
That was why Zayts and all the personnel and troops from Sauden could stay in the Fland main keep without any issues.
Originally, all the troops except Zayts and a few key figures should have stayed in the outer castle. But cramming nearly two hundred men into the main keep had been Zayts’s deliberate choice.
It was to pressure his cousin-in-law, the Fland mayor, Campbell.
He never said it outright, but it was a silent threat: if things went sideways, our troops could seize your main keep.
And until yesterday, that unspoken intimidation had produced exactly the results Zayts had hoped for.
“Crack, hehehe! Miss! Huh? How about tonight?”
“What’s this booze? Tsk tsk. No wonder it’s the sticks—the wine tastes like shit.”
Even when some of Sauden’s troops acted rudely, the people of the Fland main keep just furrowed their brows and did nothing.
But today, over fifty new troops had joined the main keep’s guard force, which numbered less than a hundred.
They were the Falcon Unit, clad in armor embroidered with hawk emblems and gripping jet-black clubs (no matter how you sliced it, they were swords, but the men insisted they were clubs).
“Man, seriously? Camilla Miss totally likes me, I’m telling you. Yesterday she called me cute.”
“Hey! Can someone shut that dog up?”
“But Camilla Gosan Miss did say Misca was cute, that’s true.”
“What!? L-lies!”
“For real. Yesterday morning, the guy got up to wash his face and ran into Camilla Miss.”
“B-bumped into her and?”
“She looked below his waist—not his face—and said he was cute. He was half-asleep and just grinned like an idiot.”
“Below his waist?”
“...Ah.”
“Ah.”
“Aah.”
“What? Why’re you all staring at me like that? Why’re you eyeing my waist?”
“Nah. Uh... Keep at it.”
“They say some guys keep growing past twenty. Don’t get too bummed.”
“Gyaack! Don’t you dare pity me!”
“Kekekeke!”
‘Those... ill-bred lunatics! They’re nothing special after all.’
Looking down from the balcony at the Falcon troopers chattering away with their nonsensical banter, Zayts breathed a sigh of relief inwardly.
Adding fifty more bumpkins like that wouldn’t change a thing.
Besides, what? Camilla Miss?
Monster slayers cavorting with whores?
Not even third-rate mercs—absolute trash!
Zayts shot a contemptuous glare at the Falcon troopers before shifting his gaze to Sauden’s troops on one side of the Fland main keep’s vast courtyard.
‘In contrast, how elite are our mercenaries!’
Sure, some were sprawled out in one corner of the courtyard, some were yawning with legs splayed wide, some were gambling at holak or whatever, and some were heckling a passing knight.
But at least half were elite...
“Huh? Heckling a passing knight?”
Wondering what he’d just seen, Zayts whipped his eyes toward the commotion.
Filthy mercenaries who hadn’t bathed properly were flashing yellowed teeth as they surrounded two knights.
And one of them happened to glance this way.
“A... a woman...?”
A woman. And even to him—proud connoisseur of beauties (a total womanizer)—she was staggeringly gorgeous.
Even better.
“Both women? And total stunners?”
Zayts’s jaw dropped slightly.
Glossy, flowing hair (greasy from not washing it in ages), lips redder than red (from snacking on wild strawberries when hungry en route), eyes sparkling with sharp intelligence (eagerness at finally getting proper rest and a bath).
Beauties you might see once every few years—and there were two of them.
“You idiots! What the hell are you doing in someone else’s territory? Disgrace to Sauden!”
The Zayts who’d turned a blind eye yesterday to every outrage by the knights and mercenaries he’d brought was gone.
A sense of responsibility as the lord’s proxy and chivalric justice blazed up like wildfire.
Absolutely not—not because he’d fallen for the two lady knights’ looks!
Dash!
Zayts bolted into the courtyard at terrifying speed.
“You lot! What the hell do you think you’re doing!”
The deputy lord proxy of Sauden bellowed.
“Aw, crap. Look, the puppet kid showed up.”
“What a pain in the ass. Hey, hey, let’s bounce.”
“Ladies, catch you later. Heh heh.”
Flashing their yellow teeth and patting the goods at their waists, the mercenaries slunk off with “keh heh heh” laughs.
Then, like a hero dispatching demon king minions without lifting a finger, Zayts strode over with confident steps.
“Are you alright? Forgive the rudeness of my men, ladies. Ah, allow me to introduce myself: Zayts Galen, rightful heir of the Galen Count family.”
Flawlessly courteous in his greeting, Zayts straightened his shoulders and stood tall.
“Yeah. I’m Camilla Gosan. Galen? If it was ‘Ka’ instead of ‘Ga,’ we could’ve been buddies. Anyway, nice to meet you. Bye.”
“Sir... haven’t spoken... already two days... need... your attention... sir...”
The brown-haired lady knight muttered something incomprehensible and breezed past, while the golden bobbed one mumbled even more baffling words, not even glancing at Zayts as she ghosted by.
“......”
Frozen in the exact refreshing smile that had set Sauden’s noble girls’ hearts aflutter (with dread of his approaches) over the past two years.
“Damn...”
Some unknown voice snapped Zayts back to reality.
Face flushing beet red in an instant, Zayts raced back the way he’d come—faster than he’d dashed down from the balcony.
And.
“Hoo...”
The old monster’s eyes gleamed as he watched Zayts’s total humiliation from start to finish.
* * *
“Piotr. Go fetch Priel and Stella Gosan.”
“Yes, Grandfather.”
As Piotr opened the door and left, he nodded subtly to Campbell, who stood at rigid attention beside Sion.
Now aware of who Sion was, Campbell returned a small bow to Piotr.
“Campbell.”
“Yes, Ancestor. Your command?”
“Just call me Grandfather.”
“No, I cannot. But before those unaware of your true identity, I shall adjust my address as the situation demands.”
Sion smiled softly at his descendant, who stubbornly clung to utmost formality despite the request.
“Fine, do as you like. Anyway.”
Leaning back comfortably, Sion continued.
“That Zayts Galen from Sauden. Seems like there’s a way to take him out right now.”
“Yes?”
Campbell blinked in surprise.
Until just moments ago, Sion had said to confirm whether King Obla’s castle had truly permitted the outsiders’ entry, then formally expel them.
And lodge a protest with the Galen Count family to pin the blame on them.
Had he changed his mind already?
“If this works, we can kill Zayts Galen right here, and no one bats an eye. Even if we subdue and lock up the knights and troops he brought, Sauden and the Galen Counts will bear the responsibility.”
“This foolish descendant cannot even guess at Ancestor’s brilliance. Show me the path.”
“I said speak casually. Anyway, I’ll explain when the actors arrive.”
“Actors... Ah, I see.”
Moments later, Priel and Stella entered.
“Sion, you called?”
“Stella... huff, Gosan. Reporting... huff huff, as summoned, Instructor.”
Unlike Priel’s usual impassive yet polite demeanor, Stella’s cheeks were flushed red as she panted heavily. Sion tilted his head.
“What’s wrong? You ill?”
Nearly all elves were healthier than humans by adulthood, having scampered through mountains and forests since childhood.
But knowing even they occasionally caught colds or fevers, Sion asked out of mild concern.
“No, sir. I’m perfectly fine, huff huff...”
“Good, glad to hear it. Speak up if anything feels off.”
“Yes, Instructor.”
Only then did Stella fully catch her breath and snap into perfect at-ease posture.
But her reddened sclera and piercing stare—like she wanted to devour him—lingered, leaving Sion with an odd, nagging discomfort.
‘She’s getting stranger by the day. Still, she’s a good kid, so whatever.’
“Nothing major, but...”
Sion gave the two elves a conspiratorial glance and spoke in a low voice.
“You two, help me with one little job.”
“......?”
* * *
As mentioned earlier, the Fland main keep was enormous.
From the mayor on down—Sion Fland family direct and branch members, city officials and families, simple hires, specialists in various fields, and standing guards—nearly four hundred souls resided there.
Thus, the communal dining hall could seat over two hundred at once.
Yet the hall, usually less than half full, was packed to the gills for the first time in ages.
A banquet was underway, attended by everyone from Sauden’s knights and soldiers (excluding Campbell’s led high officials and a few others) to Sion and the Falcon troopers.
The mood started off sour.
Saudeners looked down on the Falcon Unit while staying wary.
But the Falcons, under strict orders from the old monster, showed no reaction.
Thus, the banquet began amid the awkward tension, and after some thirty minutes...
Hahaha!
The lavish booze and array of dishes satisfied everyone’s noses and palates.
A band of a dozen musicians, dancing girls’ performances, and a troupe displaying marvelous tricks warmed the atmosphere to joviality.
But one table stood out especially (with its oddly sweet, sticky vibe).
“Oh! Lady Stella’s territory, Gosan—it sounds breathtaking even in description. I’d love to visit someday.”
“Yes. Our. Gosan. Is. Truly. Beau-ti-ful. High elevation. Makes it. Hard to breathe. For newcomers. Plenty of. Monsters. But a. Great place. To live.”
“Haha. I’ve been—it’s a fine spot.”
Sion forced a grin and chimed in with Stella.
“Yes. Quite. Nice. Our Gosan. Is cool.”
Heh heh.
Eyes unchanged, but below her nose curved in a grotesque, mask-like grin.
An old Korean video clip played unbidden in Sion’s mind.
-Good? Scare ya? Sorry.
Worse than that—even unwatchable bad acting.
He’d clearly cast the wrong actress.