Chapter 46
Chapter 46
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 46
Chapter Title: The Farce Exposed
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“Preparations are complete. Let’s go right away.”
Knight Longlive, who had been stationed in the mining village below to support the Iron Mountain Dwarves, led his troops out.
“As expected of Sion!”
“Whoa, your movements are lightning fast.”
The dwarves could only marvel at Longlive and his soldiers’ swift response.
But anyone who gave it even a moment’s thought would realize something was off.
Until now, major incidents had occasionally erupted near Iron Mountain.
However, they had all been the work of monsters or wild beasts, and a small contingent of ever-ready troops would deploy immediately.
Even if this were a raid by humans rather than beasts or monsters, it was strange for the entire unit—along with their commander, Longlive—to be fully armed and mobilized so quickly.
In their panic over the unprecedented crisis of their kin being attacked by intruders, the overwhelming majority of dwarves failed to notice this.
“Hmm. Unlike those good-for-nothings elsewhere, you’re reliable. I’ll count on you, Sir Longlive.”
Stalrif glanced sidelong at Langrif and the other dwarf warriors who were only now rushing over in a panic.
The knight, clad in chainmail and fully armed with a one-handed sword and shield, struck his shield with the flat of his blade—clang clang.
“Leave it to me. As allies of Iron Mountain, I will surely slay the ones who dared invade.”
“I have no doubts. As expected of Sion—and Paloma’s knights.”
Stalrif emphasized Paloma over Sion, as if saying it for all to hear, and Longlive smiled in satisfaction.
“Exactly. We of Paloma are the greatest sword and shield of mighty Sion. By the way, those fellows…”
Longlive subtly eyed the dwarf warriors who were only now lining up, panting heavily.
Stalrif scowled as deeply as he could.
“Use them as guides. They’re good-for-nothings, but they’ll find the way.”
“Very well.”
Longlive smirked, his eyes filled with blatant mockery as he swept his gaze over the dwarf warriors, then drew his sword and shouted.
“Sons of Paloma! For our ancient ally Iron Mountain… Huh?”
Longlive halted mid-shout, his brows furrowing. In the distance, he spotted a group emerging from the forest.
Shing!
Confirming over a dozen figures, Longlive gripped his sword without hesitation.
“Raiders! Those bastards right—”
“Our comrades! It’s our warrior comrades!”
Langrif’s bellow drowned out Longlive’s voice.
“What?”
Stalrif and Longlive uttered the same word in unison.
The others stared at the figures in shock as well. As the group drew nearer and their forms became clearer, the tension and fear faded from everyone’s faces.
‘It’s real! Just like Sion said!’
Langrif, confirming the expressions of his kin, couldn’t hide his ecstasy and bellowed at the top of his lungs.
“Our comrades won! Those guys up front are the ones who attacked us!”
The three tall humans at the head of the stocky dwarf warriors were bound like salted mackerel.
Anyone could see they were prisoners.
Uwaaaaaah!!!
The dwarves erupted in cheers.
“They won? For real?”
“O-our son won? How’s that even possible?”
Even the two mine foremen gaped in wide-eyed excitement, unable to hide their reactions.
“Did those guys pull it off?”
“Wow, not bad at all.”
Even the dispatched soldiers from Sion’s Dukedom were greatly impressed.
As allies, they didn’t show it openly, but the ducal troops had looked down on the Iron Mountain dwarf warriors until now.
The finest among the dwarf warriors couldn’t even handle their weakest member, so it was only natural.
Everyone was stunned and admiring the dwarf warriors marching proudly with prisoners in tow.
But two men—Stalrif and Longlive—had slightly different reactions.
They were as shocked as the rest, but their eyes were trembling nonstop.
Stalrif and Longlive were utterly flustered.
“How in the world did this happen?”
“W-well, I don’t really know either.”
Stalrif sidled up to Longlive and whispered on tiptoes.
“What do you mean you don’t know? How the hell did those good-for-nothings… Did you hire some utterly worthless trash with no skills?”
“Polimos aren’t worthless trash. They’re not top-tier, but they have a solid track record and decent skills…”
“Ha! So you’re saying those with solid track records and skills got taken down by those good-for-nothings?”
“What’s that? What’re ya sayin’?”
“Eep!”
Stalrif, who had unwittingly raised his voice, flinched in surprise and turned with an awkward smile.
“Nothing at all.”
“Really? But who’s that ridin’ the horse comin’ up? Looks like another prisoner to me.”
“Huh?”
Too absorbed in their shocked conversation over the dwarf warriors’ improbable victory and prisoners, Stalrif and Longlive had overlooked the late arrival emerging from the forest.
They whipped their heads around simultaneously.
“…!?”
They spotted a man riding a massive black warhorse, with a bay horse laden with gear trailing behind.
‘A knight.’
Lightly armored, but Longlive’s eyes narrowed at the assortment of weapons and gear on the bay horse.
Proper knights from Sion’s Dukedom who traveled with two horses were almost certainly—nine times out of ten, no, ten out of ten—from the ducal house.
Even those not residing in the ducal castle or Paloma were invariably tied to House Sion.
‘In that case?’
Longlive quickly turned his mind to the situation, schooled his expression, and strode forward briskly.
Stalrif, gauging the mood, hurriedly followed.
“What the heck happened? Did ya really win and capture prisoners?”
“Amazing! Truly incredible!”
Ignoring the dwarves swarming and celebrating around the warriors, the two stood indifferently before the approaching knight.
Unlike Stalrif, who looked up with panicked, tense eyes, Longlive cleared his throat once and spoke politely.
“I am Ethan Longlive, knight of Paloma. And who might you be?”
There were plenty of knights in Sion’s Dukedom, even among those not formally enlisted under the ducal banner.
Among the descendants of those who came with Founder Duke Sion, over a hundred had inherited their ancestors’ prowess.
However, not all had enlisted; many organized militias as local lords in various villages.
In other words, they were commoners, not nobility recognized by the ducal house.
For Longlive, who served as a Paloma knight directly under the ducal line’s core—Gede Sion’s family—he could afford to be haughty.
But first, he probed with courtesy to gauge the man’s reaction.
He needed to determine if this black horse rider was part of the ‘plan’ or an unexpected variable.
“Longlive?”
“…That’s right. You seem to know my house. And who are you, sir?”
Longlive felt a twinge of irritation but held his patience.
Hearing even ‘Paloma knight’ and reacting this way meant the man’s status wasn’t low.
‘At best, he’s a descendant of one of those who came with the Founder and got pushed out in the competition. Village bumpkins strutting around in the sticks.’
The troops who came with Founder Duke Sion.
All his direct subordinates and veterans of the Demon Dragon War, they scattered to various regions after the duchy stabilized, rewarded with land and knightly titles for their merits.
Known as the ‘White Tiger Knights,’ they ruled early villages as overseers, but only the recipients themselves were sirs; their heirs lived as mere lords.
Still, their pride was immense as descendants of heroes who fought alongside Founder Duke Sion, so even true knights like Longlive—who had risen through the ranks over generations—secretly resented them but couldn’t treat them lightly.
“Ah, Longlive. I see.”
The knight nodded as if recalling something.
Longlive’s shoulders lifted slightly. Even a bumpkin clearly knew of House Longlive.
But the knight’s gaze merely flicked over Longlive before settling on the red-bearded mine foreman beside him.
Snap.
Just as a vein bulged on Longlive’s forehead from the blatant dismissal—
“You’re the one? The mastermind behind this little farce?”
“…!!!”
It happens sometimes.
Normally, discussions or talks with strangers start with icebreakers, building mutual understanding and rapport before diving into the main topic.
But sometimes, you have to skip that to reach your goal.
Namely, when you judge the other party isn’t a colleague or ally, but an enemy.
And Sion had pegged Longlive and the red-bearded mine foreman beside him as ‘enemies within.’
“W-w-w-what are you t-talking about…”
Stalrif stammered in panic at the heavy fact bluntly thrust without so much as an introduction.
‘You idiot dwarf bastard!’
Longlive screamed inwardly.
He was flustered too but desperately masking it, while Stalrif openly reacted like a guilty man.
“Don’t know? Farce? What’re ya talkin’ about?”
Another mine foreman with a thick western dialect stepped forward, scowling fiercely.
“The prisoners confessed everything. They were hired to raid.”
“Hired?”
Sensing disaster, Longlive quickly interjected.
“Sir. What exactly are you saying? A farce? Why would Paloma and Iron Mountain stage one? Ha! Surely you’re not taking the word of those who attacked our ally, Iron Mountain, in our own duchy…”
“I never said a word about Paloma being involved in the farce.”
“…….”
Longlive, who had been delivering a calm, dignified speech, froze solid.
He had fallen right into the classic trap, in the classic way.
Such tactics didn’t always work, but Sion expected it would this time.
Because the ‘Longlive’ he knew was a thoroughly typical sort.
‘This one must be about his great-great-grandfather. He caused a scandal right after arriving and set up house.’
Indeed. The Longlive Sion knew was one of those who followed him to the duchy.
More precisely, a royal knight who had accompanied Sion’s wife.
Loyal to a fault, with a reputation for being rigid, but weak in improvisation and somewhat impulsive.
This Ethan Longlive bore an uncanny resemblance to that Longlive, so Sion’s tentative classic trap had snared him, as expected.
“Lies! Refrain from such slander! As a knight of Sion, I demand: Who are you? Who dares harass a Sion knight with falsehoods on Sion’s own soil!”
Even this renewed outburst was typically predictable. When cornered or at a loss for words, he resorted to anger and authority—just like his grandfather, astonishingly similar.
Truly, no thief could steal his lineage, Sion thought as he finally revealed his identity card after so long.
“I am Sailun.”
“Ha! Sailun who…”
Longlive, about to roar in fury, clamped his mouth shut. He had to know who Sailun was, if anyone did.
His ancestor was the guard knight who served the princess who became Founder Duke Sion’s consort.
(To be continued next time)