Chapter 15
Chapter 15
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 15
Chapter Title: Ulstro Kingdom - Squire Life (6)
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"Spirit User?"
Mercedes's eyes sparkled.
"Did you just say Spirit User?"
"Ah, yes. That's right."
Her interest shifted instantly from the trolls to the Spirit User.
And for good reason—Spirit Users were incredibly rare talents among humans.
They appeared somewhat frequently among elves, but the gift was exceedingly uncommon in humans. With most elves now aligned with the Allied Republic after the Demon Army's invasion, the drought of Spirit Users had only worsened.
Moreover, Spirit Users often proved their worth, delivering returns far exceeding the investment.
"Where did that Spirit User go?"
"W-Well..."
The baron rolled his eyes, struggling to continue. Finally, he squeezed his eyes shut and reluctantly spoke up.
"She vanished."
"Vanished?"
"Yes. So..."
Baron Planks explained the whole story.
While waiting for the knight order, a Spirit User had appeared and asked to stay at the lord's castle for a few days.
Considering how valuable a talent she was, the baron had welcomed her as a guest in hopes of possibly recruiting her. During dinner together, the topic of the trolls had come up by chance.
The Spirit User had offered to handle it herself, but even for one of her kind, taking down over a dozen trolls seemed impossible, so he'd politely declined.
The next morning, the Spirit User was gone.
The baron had felt regret but moved on—until the following day, when seven troll corpses were dumped in front of the castle gates. Beside them was a note saying she'd taken the rest.
This had happened just a day ago.
"A wandering Spirit User... I've heard of such people occasionally, but it's a shame to miss her."
As a princess of the realm before she was a knight, Mercedes lamented letting such a talent slip away.
"I-I'm sorry!"
The baron bowed deeply to the princess, apologizing profusely for reasons known only to him. This left Mercedes flustered instead.
"No need for that. Straighten up before you hurt your back."
While this exchange unfolded on the side, Valdes sank into thought.
'A Spirit User...'
He possessed monstrous talent in both swordsmanship and magic, but spirits were beyond him. Not that he minded. What he had was already enough to make others curse the gods in envy. Greed beyond that would be excessive.
The reason he was thinking about Spirit Users was simpler.
'Reminds me of that lunatic.'
His hero party had included one, after all.
She was the least likely to betray him.
Even he, who trusted no one, had hesitated at the final moment—wondering whether to go with the Demon King or her. In the end, choosing the Demon King had led to this delightful second life, but he figured he'd have gotten his revenge either way.
'...No way it's her.'
He shook his head to dispel the uneasy thought.
According to Irina's intel, the woman had gone missing. High chance she'd died, or perhaps retreated to the spirit realm with their aid. He leaned toward the latter.
But his hopes were dashed.
"What? You can't even remember if it was a man or a woman?"
"I-It felt like the spirits' power..."
"Hah, unbelievable."
This wasn't just fuzzy recollection—it was impossible to even recall gender. Nothing normal about it.
Anyone could see supernatural forces like magic or spirits were at play.
'Damn it. It's definitely that lunatic.'
Valdes's face twisted.
It had to be the power of the spirit she was contracted with. She'd pulled the same stunt eighteen years ago.
'Still alive after all? She always had that wanderlust... Sigh, please stay out of my life this time.'
If Queen Beatrice was the scheming madwoman plotting from the shadows, this Spirit User was the reckless idiot charging headfirst.
And she fancied Pedro too. He'd rejected her confessions and fended off her advances every time, but she was even more brazen and persistent than Beatrice.
That was why he'd chosen the Demon King in the end.
"Valdes? What's wrong?"
Amy, standing beside him, looked at him worriedly. She'd noticed his grimace.
"Oh, nothing. Just suddenly feeling a bit tired..."
"I get it. I'm worn out too."
"Hm..."
Overhearing their exchange by chance, Mercedes paused her conversation with the baron and let out a thoughtful hum.
She pondered briefly, then turned to scan the group. She glanced quickly over the others but lingered a moment on Valdes.
Only Etilene Profilene, who had been watching Valdes and Mercedes intently, noticed the brief eye contact.
"...You all must be tired from the long journey, so let's head in and rest. Baron? If you could guide us."
"Of course!"
Seeing Mercedes's faintly flushed face, Baron Planks responded with vigor and ordered his servants to escort the knight order to their assigned rooms.
True to a noble house with its own territory—however modest—they generously provided proper single rooms not just for the knights, but for the squires as well.
Even squires from the famed Pedro Knight Order might one day become knights, so building goodwill now was smart.
Even if she had a bit of plumpness and a timid image, nobility was nobility.
"To think our first mission turns out like this..."
Valdes clicked his tongue as he unpacked in his room.
As Mercedes had said before departure, he needed substantial achievements to become a knight.
His skills were more than sufficient—overflowing, even. His character was fine unless something odd cropped up. Loyalty? He could fake it by moderately playing the devoted role with Mercedes.
But achievements? Even he had no easy way to rack them up. Becoming a knight on middling merits would just invite scrutiny and criticism from those watching him hawkishly.
'Not that I strictly need to be a knight... but it beats squire life.'
Mercedes herself was no issue, but for targeting the queen and Second Princess Marie, a knight's position seemed more advantageous than squire.
The same for future plans.
Once he seized the kingdom through the three women and established himself here, he'd leverage that fame to scheme against other nations. Plans might shift with circumstances, but fame was indispensable either way.
Most of his revenge targets were highborn.
There were ways for commoners to get close quickly, like the Hero Memorial Martial Tournament, but nothing as straightforward.
As these thoughts swirled, a knock sounded.
"Who is it?"
"It's me, Glet."
"Oh ho."
Valdes's expression turned sly.
An intriguing visitor.
After that night incident, Glet had been awkward around him the entire trip, avoiding him. She probably thought he hadn't noticed, but he'd sensed her approach.
He'd pondered how to handle her, but her coming to him first was unexpected.
He composed his face and neck, then opened the door.
"What brings you here?"
"W-Well..."
Glet fidgeted bashfully, struggling to speak.
Seeing it would take ages for her to get to the point, Valdes teased.
"Something happen because of me?"
At his feigned worry, she shook her head in alarm.
"Absolutely not! ...I mean..."
"Glet! There you are!"
"!!"
"Huh?"
One voice was unfamiliar, the other long unheard.
Turning, he saw a young man who screamed noble scion, approaching them.
His slightly brownish blond hair framed refined attire. Not strikingly handsome, but average for nobility.
Beaming broadly, he approached Glet familiarly.
"Long time no see. It's me."
"Ah, yeah. I remember. Stricht."
In stark contrast, Glet looked terribly awkward.
"Glad to hear it. I worried you'd forgotten. Your face looks down though? Ah, tired from the trip, right? Makes sense, that was far. Hm? Who's this?"
Valdes fought a surge of irritation as Stricht babbled nonstop, nearly slapping him but holding back.
"Squire like me. Name's Valdes."
"Heh, got it. ...Oh, my father's hosting a small banquet for the knight order."
"Yeah? And?"
A banquet was dinner anyway—no need to tell personally.
"You didn't pack a dress, right? I can lend you one."
"...What?"
Glet stared at him in disbelief. Oblivious, Stricht just grinned.
Her brow furrowed at his obliviousness.
"Sorry, but I'm attending as a knight order squire, not a noble. No need for a dress."
Stricht faltered at her firm refusal.
"Eh? But it's a banquet?"
"......"
'Father seemed decent, but the son's an idiot.'
This was common sense across Ulstro and beyond.
Besides, she was a squire, not a knight. The others would surely wear practical modified light armor. She had no desire to be the lone fool in a dress.
Mercedes or high noble heirs might differ—as family representatives in their own right.
But Mercedes's personality made a dress at such an event unlikely.
"Sorry."
Glet didn't look sorry at all, but brushed it off politely.
"Shame. You look way prettier in a dress than armor."
"Ugh!"
She let out a small groan at the casual compliment.
Not thrilled, not displeased—a muddled feeling. As a woman, praise for her dress pleased her; as a knight aspirant, it irked.
She hesitated, unsure how to respond.
Then Valdes's hand slid past her back, gripping her upper arm just below the shoulder.
"Eh...?"
"Pardon the intrusion, but I'll say this: Glet, you're beautiful not just in a dress, but always—and especially in armor."
Glet felt her heart pounding. A fierce thrum she knew only from intense workouts.
Whether from his similar build making it feel like an embrace, his words, or both—she couldn't tell. But they thrilled her.
"Hmph. I know that. ...Why are you grabbing my shoulder like that?"
Irked, Stricht reached to shove Valdes's hand off.
But it failed.
Smack.
"...Glet?"
"Uh? Oh, t-that's..."
Glet had swatted his hand away—instinctively.
Stricht and Glet both panicked at her unconscious act. Only Valdes smiled leisurely.
Unable to confront Glet, Stricht glared at Valdes.
"You... what's your deal with Glet?"
"Can't you tell? Exactly what it looks like."
"!!"
"...You...!"
Stricht's face reddened with fury, the air thick with imminent violence.
As Glet fidgeted helplessly...
"Hm? Valdes? Glet? What's going on here? And you are...?"
Mercedes appeared like a lifeline from the heavens.
She hadn't clocked the odd vibe, but her timing shattered the tension perfectly.
"Ah, Lady Mercedes."
"Whoa! P-Princess! Greetings!"
"Yes, hello. Do you have business with my squires?"
"N-No! I just... Glet and I are childhood friends, so..."
"Ah, you're that friend. Nice to meet you."
"L-Likewise!"
Stricht lit up at her kindness, flustered.
"P-Princess? If it's not too bold, care for tea...?"
"Afraid not—knight order duties await. If that's all, mind leaving? I need to speak with my squire."
At the clear dismissal, Stricht bowed glumly and departed—after one last glare at Valdes.
"Phew, thank you, Lady Mercedes."
Glet sighed in relief, grateful to her savior.
"Hm? For what?"
"Uh... N-Nothing. What brings you here?"
"Oh, uh, something to tell Valdes."
Mercedes's nape flushed, embarrassed at seeking him out suddenly.
"R-Right. W-Well, I'll be going then!"
Glet's heart still raced from moments ago; she bowed hastily and scurried off.
"...Something happen?"
"No, nothing. Come in?"
Mercedes hesitated at Valdes's natural invitation inside but soon stepped forward casually.
"...Excuse me for a moment."