Chapter 64
Chapter 64
Iron Emperor — Chapter 64
The songs spilled one into the next, and giant jugs began passing from hand to hand instead of cups. The recruits who had looked bewildered at first were soon swept up in the crowd, and Buru, Uru, and the three dwarves were dancing, each clutching a liquor jar.
The dwarves had been the first to fit into this drinking and singing. Their cheerful disposition probably matched the people of Gauri better than anyone.
"Kwaaah! This is good!"
"Hwi! Bring that stuff out, I said!"
"Right now?"
As the drinking got going and the alcohol started flowing, Jin-cheon called for Hwi-garam as if they'd gone straight back to the old days. Hwi-garam—normally so quiet—was shouting at the top of his lungs, and he answered Jin-cheon just like the old days, all decorum forgotten.
A moment later, when several wooden kegs were carried out, Galling Stone—who'd had his arm around Buru's shoulders singing along—opened his eyes wide.
"Th-that's—!"
What they'd brought out at Jin-cheon's command was the very beer Galling Stone had thrown his body at to protect.
"My beeeeer!"
Thud.
"Pebble's losin' it!"
Galling Stone launched himself at the beer kegs like a yaksha, but Buru grabbed his ankle and dragged him down, stopping him cold. Galling Stone sprawled out face-first in the dirt, clawing at the ground as he poured out his longing for the beer.
"......."
"Beeeer~."
"...Is my drunkenness making me see things, or has this bastard drunk so much he's lost his mind?"
Jin-cheon clicked his tongue as he watched the floundering figure on the ground, nose bright red. Buru, still holding Galling Stone's ankle, clicked his tongue and shook his head.
"Fine liquor an' he turns into this kinda drunk!"
"Beeeer~!"
"A beatin's the best medicine for a crazy bastard."
"Hek!"
Galling Stone, feeling his wits return at the sound of Buru's voice, shot upright and launched into a protest.
"Do you know how much we suffered makin' that?! And then just when it's aged all nice and drinkable, you load every last barrel onto a ship, hoard it all, and only now break it out—how was I supposed to not go insane?!"
"......."
The two remaining dwarves watching Galling Stone pour out his fervent speech at Buru began to feel anxious. Of course, Galling Stone's feelings weren't so different from Hwain Stone's or Mawin Stone's, but over the recent period, repeated education had taught them a certain amount of filtering of what came out of their mouths.
But who was Galling Stone?
He was the dwarf who'd been called the final rebel of the dwarf village. Galling Stone's outstanding experimental spirit was notorious even back in the dwarf village.
For example, the three-stage transforming armor no one else would've thought of, or the combining armor that could merge with horse armor, or the armor whose gauntlets launched off, and so on... (Of course, the three-stage transformation took so long to operate you'd likely get beaten to death mid-shift; the armor that combined with horse armor could be worn by no one capable of moving in it; and the armor with the launching gauntlets nearly took the arm with the gauntlet on several occasions—so far from being made practical, he'd grown up getting pummeled within an inch of his life.)
Being that kind of Galling Stone, his spirit of challenge respected neither time nor place.
"Yep, thanks to you pebbles, I didn't see barley for a good while."
Twitch.
"I like barley rice."
Twitch~!
At Buru's menacing voice, Galling Stone's body reacted with exquisite sensitivity. And when Jin-cheon's voice followed, seeming to lend weight to Buru's words, killing intent began to waft out.
"Considering the trouble I went through when that stuff vanished, huntin' a thief all that time..."
Just as Galling Stone was cursing his own reckless mouth, Hwain Stone quietly interceded.
"Uh... perhaps forget what's past and have a drink..."
"Aye, best have a drink."
Galling Stone, his hopes fanned by Buru's momentarily softening words, silently thanked Hwain Stone for the help and tentatively raised his head. But in Buru's face, Galling Stone could read nothing but hell.
"You take a drink before slaughterin' a pig too, don't ya?"
Clink.
The pewter cup that slipped from Mawin Stone's hand rang out with peculiar clarity. But salvation did arrive.
"Enough. Buru, take a drink."
"Aye, but the insolence—"
"Forget what's past."
Jin-cheon's voice felt to Galling Stone and the two dwarves as warm as the voice of the Fire God thundering through flame. Jin-cheon poured the freshly opened beer for a grumbling Buru, then approached the dwarves again.
"Here, have a cup, each of you."
"Yes."
They accepted the beer Jin-cheon offered with due deference. They were not, of course, a race that bowed to humans, but repeated learning was a terrifying thing. A formula was already engraved in their brains: 'Go Jin-cheon > the Eulji Brothers > Dwarf.' Jin-cheon, having filled their cups, slowly began to speak.
"This barley liquor tastes excellent. So excellent it might just be enough to forgive—the barley you thieves stole to brew it all, the questionable iron you wanted to make burial shrouds for my soldiers out of. All of it."
"......."
The dwarves, cups in hand, couldn't tell whether this was a threat or comfort.
"Mm. But what can you do? Fresh water matters at sea, and what you make is useful—so try to understand that we had no choice but to load it up. However."
"......?"
At the word "However" trailing Jin-cheon's placating tone, all eyes fixed on him.
"I felt sorry about it toward you all, so I set aside three or four kegs of beer to drink tonight. Don't call me stingy. Drink your fill of this tonight, and from now on, make as much beer as your hearts desire. You don't need to hide anywhere and brew in secret anymore. This is the Yeolje's command."
"Ooooh!"
An exclamation burst from the quick-tempered Galling Stone. The other two dwarves gazed at Jin-cheon with shining eyes that were almost oppressive.
"Let's drink!"
"Whoaaa!"
Buru, watching Jin-cheon and the three dwarves enjoying themselves like little children, cocked his head and sidled over to Hwi-garam, who was laughing off to the side. He quietly spoke up.
"Now why's he makin' such generous talk?"
"Heh heh. It's not just this one voyage, is it."
"......."
In the end, it was a foundation being laid for the long-term exploitation of the dwarves. Oblivious to this ulterior motive, the dwarves were being exploited (?) bit by bit.
"Gerard!"
"Yes!"
When Go Jin-cheon pushed through the forest of soldiers and called out, Gerard—who'd been mingling with the men—answered and came running. And at his side, Fleet Commander Jang Bogo had come forward with him.
"Fleet Commander Jang's here too. Here, have another cup, both of you."
"I am overwhelmed, Your Majesty."
"And I."
Bogo extended his cup and accepted the pour with profound gratitude, and Gerard beside him extended his own cup employing a somewhat cheeky manner of speech. Gerard had by now picked up enough vocabulary to barely need the translation bracelet, but he'd also figured out how to use his slight linguistic clumsiness as a weapon to subtly get away with things. Even so, Jin-cheon betrayed no sign of it; he poured, then filled his own cup as well.
"I'll entrust you both with this."
"Yes."
When Jin-cheon addressed them, they answered as if speaking in unison. Jin-cheon's expression was still bright, but you could feel the weight in his words.
"Under no circumstances."
"......."
"Do not let a single soldier die. If it gets dangerous, get yourselves clear. I'm sending you out like this because of the nation's circumstances right now, but this is not the sum of what you're meant to do."
At Jin-cheon's charged words, the two men's tipsiness evaporated in an instant.
"Fleet Commander Jang. Gerard."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Yes."
As Bogo and Gerard bowed their heads and responded to his address, Jin-cheon brought his fist over their cups.
Drip.
"Hup!"
A bead of blood fell from Jin-cheon's clenched fist into Bogo's cup. He'd applied force to squeeze the blood out. Shock rose in Bogo's eyes. And it was the same for Gerard. Jin-cheon's fist moved over Gerard's cup and did the same.
"Just a coppery drop of blood, but I am with you. I am Gauri, and you are Gauri. Each and every soldier over there is Gauri. Bear it in mind—the name our empire bestows."
"Yes!"
"Bear it in mind—your true meaning will be granted the day you return."
"Yes!"
"Bear it in mind—the road you walk is no mere piracy."
Jin-cheon's voice drove itself into their brains.
A sovereign's charge.
The sovereign's blood spreading through their cups told them it came from the heart. Like the blood suffusing the liquor, Gauri was engraving itself and spreading through their hearts as well.
A short while later, Go Jin-cheon had returned to his place and stood there, once more etching the soldiers into his eyes.
Soldiers who would have to leave.
Yet none of them showed a trace of unease. Their dancing and singing blew away all of tomorrow's cares.
"Heh."
Feeling a corner of his heart grow solid, Jin-cheon rose, taking Yeon Hwi-garam, Eulji Buru, and Dae Mu-deok with him.
"Hut! Have some more beer!"
Galling Stone, his face flushed red, caught Jin-cheon as he was about to leave. But Jin-cheon shook his hand, a smile on his face.
"I'm good. The remaining beer was prepared for you. You can drink it all—think of it as shaking off all the hard work you've done this one time."
"Thank you!"
Leaving the crying-out Galling Stone behind—he sounded deeply moved—they returned to the Yeolje's hall. And Jin-cheon carefully drew out a few bottles from one side.
"Those are?"
"A liquor called Elven Queen, I'm told."
"Ooooh!"
An exclamation came from Risel, who had joined them on the way over.
It was the liquor of liquors, the one people said two could drink while three dropped dead without ever knowing it. And since this was a famous drink brewed only by High Elves—elves among elves—there was no way Risel wouldn't exclaim.
In the end, the dwarves sang the praises of Jin-cheon, who had forfeited beer for their sake, and this group savored the fine liquor called Elven Queen obtained through Haidia. And so the night before the expedition passed.
* * *
"......."
Gerard, standing at the prow of a ship swaying beneath the blue sky, was staring ahead. The ship's motion was a bit much, but his form—worthy of a Master—held its balance well.
"Good grief..."
Gerard walked to the ship's rail and clicked his tongue. In Gerard's eyes as he looked down over the side, it was not blue, piercingly beautiful seawater he saw, but orcs—livid and foul-looking things—moving the ship along.
"Kwee-ee-eek!"
"Mooooooh!"
The battle cries of orcs and minotaurs shaking the Reganza Mountains were more than sufficient to stir primal terror.
"Pull on that side!"
"Yes!"
"Mooooooh!"
Yet the scene unfolding within it was so ridiculous it defied belief. Soldiers were hauling minotaurs along by the nose rings hooked through their snouts, and off to one side they were laying into slow orcs with clubs to keep the pace.
"Tch, anyone else wouldn't have even considered an idea like this. Good grief, is this what you call a difference in thinking...?"
A great many things were packed into Gerard's muttered soliloquy.
At first, everything had been completely staggering. The unfamiliar looks were one thing, but soldiers of shocking skill, a human blacksmith who treated even dwarves like fools, horses and bows that broke common sense... and, more than any of that, a sovereign who shattered common sense.
If Go Jin-cheon had come from common birth, of course, it would be understandable. But they said he was imperial family. Every single thing about the way he looked and acted was rough-and-ready, and he did things that seemed to throw away all dignity, and yet the way he did them was all the more natural for it.
The stunning gesture and the cup with blood in it the night before the expedition.
He inspired more trust than any emperor or king who'd condescendingly hand out some treasured sword to a commander heading to the battlefield and call it a favor. He was different from any commander who played number games with soldiers' lives. Jin-cheon, who didn't simply take everything he wished for even though he could have, was all the more human.
Through Jin-cheon's image, Gerard had learned that the image of a sovereign wasn't something manufactured but something that came naturally.
In some respects, the man called Jin-cheon was, for a sovereign, petty and someone who worked people hard, but when he acted, he acted starting from the lowest place.
Gerard drew a smile at the corner of his mouth. And drawing the blue wind deep into his lungs, he shouted.
"Increase march speed!"
"Chuwoong!"
"Units to double time~!"
At Gerard's command, the ship advanced over dry land. Though, of course, the not-quite-screams of livestock-ified orcs and minotaurs did ring out.