Chapter 17
Chapter 17
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: Omen of War
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Kazan dispatch, week 3.
"The night air feels especially chilly today. Sir Daniel, take care not to catch a cold. The northern flu is notoriously vicious."
"Yes. I'll be careful."
'Here he comes again? Persistent bastard. So damn persistent.'
Today, Rainer had come fully prepared, bringing Syril and Sir Rood, the Kazan defense commander, along with him.
Daniel greeted them with a well-honed business smile, sighing inwardly all the while.
'But for someone who's just here to nitpick, he's oddly friendly... No. Get a grip. Why would a guy like him want to get chummy with me? One slip, and I'll get played.'
Daniel recalled his conversation with Titania from yesterday's routine report.
[That's right, Daniel. You really do have sharp instincts! The kind that leaves people in awe! Anyway, the Young Lord is a potential enemy! So absolutely, absolutely do not let your guard down! Got it? Promise me!]
For some reason, the word "instincts" seemed emphasized, but it was probably just his imagination.
Reaffirming the advice from a Magic Tower politics veteran—who operated on a level he couldn't even compare to—Daniel steeled himself.
'Sigh. This is exactly why I hate provincial assignments. Stuck out here with no allies to lean on, no one to vent to.'
Daniel clicked his tongue.
'Tch. If those regular staffers hadn't screwed up, I wouldn't be dealing with this. All this hassle because of their mess.'
Daniel decided to melt away the stress with some marshmallows.
"Come out, you little shits. Time to work."
"Ugyagek!"
The summoned Imps seemed to grimace, but it had to be his imagination.
An Imp worker descended from the sky.
It sounded absurd, but that's exactly what happened in Kazan.
"Gegegek!"
"Ugyagya!"
The Imps were pros at this.
They wielded shovels and rakes with expert skill, clearing snow and dismantling icicles.
Under Daniel's orders, they moved in perfect unison, their work speed truly astonishing.
A chore that would take an average company half a day was done in under an hour.
"Who knew civilian support experience would come in this handy."
As an Indefinite Contractor on dispatch, he was bound to encounter all sorts of incidents and accidents.
Going out to hunt monsters only to end up cleaning up their aftermath was routine for Daniel.
After eight years of that, this kind of task was as easy and familiar as eating cold porridge.
'Yep, I've grown in this area too.'
He could tell once he put them to work.
Handling the Imps had gotten much smoother than before.
Previously, he'd had to give one-by-one instructions; now, they moved instantly with just a thought.
He had a good guess why.
His refined mana control had improved his synchronization with the Imps.
'Gotta get a proper gift for Manager Titania when I get back. A Frost Red Tea set, maybe?'
Excited at the thought of devouring more delicious marshmallows today, Daniel bounced on his toes.
"Alright, next is over there. Move it, quick! Hustle!"
"Kiiik!"
The collaboration between the laboring Imps and the marshmallow-munching mage quickly restored Kazan's streets to normal.
"Impressive."
Sir Rood, guarding Rainer while observing Daniel, let out a sigh of admiration.
Daniel's display was that remarkable.
"More tempting than firepower—labor power. Ha ha. It's been ages since I've seen something like this."
"Labor over firepower?"
Rainer couldn't comprehend.
They were decent workers, sure, but that was it.
He couldn't fathom why something so mundane would be desirable when flashy magic existed.
"Ha ha. It's no wonder Your Lordship doesn't get it. You're a lord. A soldier like me sees things differently."
Sir Rood began his explanation to bridge the gap.
"War is total war. The power to crush the enemy matters, but so does the power to sustain your own forces. The power to eliminate defeat. What you're seeing is exactly that kind."
"The power to eliminate defeat? That?"
"Precisely."
Sir Rood nodded.
"Victory and defeat in war aren't like a coin toss deciding it instantly. It's the cumulative result of countless factors that make victory inevitable—or defeat unavoidable."
The veteran warrior's gaze fixed on the mage tidying the streets with magic (or rather, savoring marshmallows).
"Talent for seizing momentum is fairly common. But talent for erasing defeat? That's rare. That mage has it."
"Labor power is that kind of talent?"
"Your Lordship, what's the most grueling, inefficient task in the army?"
Sir Rood pointed to the Imps diligently sweeping snow and clearing trash.
"Exactly those miscellaneous chores."
"...!"
"Not a soldier's job, but unavoidable. And they build up fatigue, tank morale. Bad enough in peacetime—worse in war."
Rainer fell silent.
Now he understood why Sir Rood had been so impressed.
"That's why Sir Daniel is remarkable. Logistics, repairs, rear support—he could handle most of it with that one spell."
Sir Rood let out a hearty laugh.
"Now I see why Your Lordship wants him."
"You noticed, huh."
"Ha ha. Ask anyone in Kazan. No one doesn't know."
"Sir Daniel didn't."
"Ho ho. His only flaw is that lack of awareness. If he joins us, I'll have to train him up."
"...Same thought here, Sir Rood."
Exchanging smiles, the two turned back to the coveted man.
Oblivious to their stares, Daniel simply threw himself into the work.
Rumors spread through Kazan.
Rainer visiting Daniel every night—prime gossip fodder.
"Every night? Talk about devotion."
"I wasn't even that attentive during my honeymoon."
"Explains why your married life is in shambles."
"What?!"
People gathered in clusters, chattering away.
A city on the brink of war had a tense, joyless atmosphere by default.
The Rainer-Daniel rumor was a welcome thrill.
All of Kazan's citizens were abuzz.
"The Young Lord's talent hunt is firing up again after so long."
"He's worth coveting. Didn't you hear about the Horse Demon Tribe?"
"Looks like he's seriously after him this time."
"Hmm. Maybe dress up my daughter and have her make a move on Sir Daniel?"
"Huh? You old coot. Gone mad? Ballsy enough to steal the Young Lord's target?"
"You're blind as a bat. That's why we aim high."
"Huh?"
"If the Young Lord's target becomes my son-in-law, we're tied to his fate. Family prosperity guaranteed, right?"
"Crazy. Are you a genius?!"
The rumor spread like a celebrity scandal.
Everyone in Kazan knew.
Yes. That was the problem.
Everyone knew.
No exceptions.
Not even the enemy.
"Go."
-Fwoosh!
The spy released the messenger pigeon, which soared into the sky.
Leaving Kazan, it crossed forests, canyons, and finally reached the land closest to the heavens.
"I must see the chief. Send up the signal smoke."
"Yes, sir!"
Among the Steel Scale Tribe—the Highland Tribe's leadership—the most belligerent and brutal was unanimously the Black Mane Tribe.
Their lives revolved solely around battle, plunder, and honor.
For them, victory was honor.
Berserkers who scorned all means for victory, reveling in blood and madness as virtue and pride.
Their chief, Kudan, was no exception.
He'd beheaded the previous chief—his own father—to claim the position, then ruled with brutal bloodshed.
Bloodthirsty warriors fanatically followed such a leader, making the Black Mane Tribe little more than cultists worshiping Kudan as their prophet.
News to excite these berserkers had just arrived.
"Warrior, I commend you. You've brought good tidings."
"Yes! An honor, my chief!"
The bloodied warrior knelt at Kudan's praise.
That single phrase made killing another tribe's scout and stealing the pigeon worthwhile.
"Heh heh. Don't like that cowardly Archduke punk, but his kid's different. Preparing such a gift for me."
Kudan's eyes gleamed like a beast's upon reading the message.
It detailed Rainer's nightly patrol schedule, patterned as expected.
"Turn down such a devoted gift? That'd make me the fool. Right?"
"The chief speaks true!"
The warriors in the tent shouted in unison.
'Finally, a battle worth getting excited about!'
His blood boiled.
He planned to kidnap Rainer this time.
To the Highland Tribe, the Northern Archduke's bloodline held immense value.
First, the ransom: sums dwarfing any ordinary noble's.
Success meant enough wealth to last through this winter—and next.
But what thrilled Kudan was something else.
'At last, my time to be hailed as the Highland's greatest warrior!'
The Highland Tribe, sustained by plunder for ages, had traditions and culture outsiders couldn't grasp.
One: Capturing an enemy leader's bloodline was the pinnacle of honorable achievement.
To be the greatest warrior required not just supreme might, but supreme honor.
Kudan saw this as his chance.
A heaven-sent opportunity to crown himself the Highland Tribe's greatest warrior!
"Prepare to descend, all of you."
Kudan rose slowly, gripping his axe.
Ferocious fangs gleamed beneath his black beard.
"In seven days! We'll hold a blood festival in Kazan! Slaughter the weaklings! Seize the Archduke's protected bloodline! This year, the whole tribe winters on meat stew!"
"Waaaaaah!!!"
The cheers erupted.
The tribe went wild at their chief's declaration.
Guided to paradise with meat stew all winter. What grander words?
The warriors' morale peaked.
"Fatten the wyverns before the hunt!"
"Kyaoooo!"
The caged wyverns roared.
Sensing a feast after so long, saliva dripped from the monsters' maws.
"Kuhahahahaha!!!"
Kudan's laughter echoed across the highlands.
A one-week countdown began for Kazan's peace.