An Honorable Visit — With Two Thousand Mercenaries
The mess of dealing with complaints could wait. Right now, that wasn't what mattered.
What mattered was adding every mercenary he could and raising the alert level.
Not a single retainer seated at the council objected. A few of them were tempted to say, Count Yeates has barely consolidated his conquest — he'll struggle to control the rebellion. We don't know when he might strike, so we should refrain from overspending on mercenaries, and yet not one of them opened his mouth.
That was how threatening the new count's momentum felt. No one dared underestimate him.
Does my lord not consider peace at all?
Why don't you raise it with him yourself?
A few of the retainers wrangled with the thought in silence. The Republic had reached out to them several times. Mindful of prying eyes, they had exchanged pleasantries and circled around the point, but in the end, their proposal amounted to this:
-Would it not be better to abandon the Emperor and switch sides?
The viscount had rejected it outright with a single stroke of the blade, of course, and the other retainers had raged and chased the envoy out. But the offer had lodged itself in people's minds.
Ignoring the oath sworn to one's lord and defecting was, without question, dishonorable and disgraceful conduct.
And yet, nothing in this world was absolute.
The loyalist retainers, devoted to the Emperor's cause, thought nothing of the sort — but the rest of them reasoned that peace could be negotiated too. What truly mattered, in the end, was their own rights and privileges, was it not?
The viscount was the Emperor's representative, true, but he had governed the domain for years and was its de facto lord. If he set his mind to it, such a thing would be within his power.
Let the viscount bear the shame — it wouldn't be their shame to carry, after all...
Hmm.
Still, the retainers held their tongues. No matter how they looked at it, the viscount seemed unlikely to heed their counsel.
If they raised it carelessly and got marked by the loyalist faction, or worse, word traveled up the chain as a report...
"My lord! An envoy has arrived from the city!"
"!"
The servant's urgent cry put everyone at the table on edge.
What would the new count demand this time?
Contrary to their fears, however, the envoy spoke only of entirely reasonable matters.
The captured knights would be released, and along with them, this side was to send a guest of their own, who was to be received with proper hospitality.
Since the viscount had sent knights of his own, it was hardly a demand he could refuse. If anything, it was a startlingly moderate proposal.
"...?"
"Is it not simple mercy, nobly extended from one knight to another?"
One of the retainers offered his view. The mask of reputation Johan wore worked its influence precisely at moments like this. They still saw him as an honorable and faithful knight.
Under that assumption, releasing them for free without demanding a ransom made a certain sense.
"What will you do, my lord?"
"...If they come as a guest, is there any reason to turn them away?"
The viscount answered slowly, reasonably. Refusal might hand them a pretext instead, and that made him cautious.
"Send word to the harbor that a guest is coming. See that he is treated properly. Carelessness could hand them a convenient grievance."
The retainers nodded. Indeed, this was exactly the sort of thing that could become a pretext. They wouldn't stand for absurd fabrications, but there was no harm in being careful.
"Who do you suppose will come as envoy?"
"Likely the knights who campaigned under the count, but let us prepare for other contingencies, just in case."
"Yes, my lord!"
While the mercenaries and fleet assembled, Johan rested at his leisure, enjoying the city's pleasures. The sweetest wine in the city and its finest musicians graced his table.
"......"
Johan, reclining at a careless angle, resembled a lazy beast of prey. Zhannina swallowed hard. Karamaf, sprawled at Johan's feet, blinked up at her.
"I heard you kept quiet in front of the knights. Consider that my thanks."
"It was nothing, my lord. If you wished it, I could have stayed quiet forever."
"The mud bath seems to have taught you some humility."
"Yes. It was most instructive."
You son of a...
-Grrrr.
"!"
Karamaf's low growl made Zhannina flinch in alarm. The beast had read her inner thoughts with uncanny precision. Johan snorted.
"Cursing me in your head, were you?"
"Certainly not!"
Zhannina stared into Karamaf's eyes and attempted her magic — the spell of affinity that told a monster I am not your enemy.
-Grunt.
Karamaf turned his head away with an air of utter annoyance and flopped back down. The spell had failed. Some mysterious force wrapped the area around them.
Is there a mage here?
Zhannina was a little startled. She had been certain there was no one in the vicinity who looked like a practitioner of magic...
"Have you given any thought to why I called for you?"
"My lord, I swear upon the name of God and magic that the sea-armor dragon only pretended to be dead—"
She was invoking oaths she never used, which meant she was genuinely aggrieved. Johan shook his head.
"I can accept that much."
"Thank you."
Wait. You knew that, and you still made me take the mud bath?
"The reason I called you... is that I have a question for you, the one they call the tamer of monsters and beasts. Could you raise an army of monsters?"
"...I beg your pardon?"
Zhannina doubted her own ears.
Is this bastard actually a Unificationist?
She caught herself glancing around the room. This had to be a trap — inquisitors of the church could be hiding somewhere. But there was no one to be seen.
Even that Cardirian had only thought of quietly taming a few useful monsters and putting them to work. Raising a monster army? Never. As a Unificationist, such shameless thoughts were simply beyond her.
"I... I have never once in my life even conceived of such a thing, my lord."
"I didn't ask whether you'd thought of it. Is it possible, or not?"
"It's impossible."
"Swear upon the name of magic that it's impossible."
"......"
Zhannina cursed Kaenerna. No matter how she turned it over, that count knew far, far too much about magic and mages. And there was only one person who could have told him.
"Yes! It's impossible!"
It was no lie. Magic capable of commanding a monster army was not something a human could wield. Even charming a handful of monsters and leading them about was a staggering feat of spellcraft.
Johan clicked his tongue in apparent disappointment. Zhannina watched him carefully. And she became certain of it.
That count was absolutely not a devout believer!
"You fall far short of Duke Kaenerna's capabilities."
Zhannina was not, by nature, stupid enough to take the bait of such a cheap provocation.
But when a person is hounded from every direction and worn down by hardship, her standards are bound to slip.
Zhannina's voice turned shrill.
"You only say that because you don't know whom Her Majesty trusts more."
"Do you have some grievance with me right now? Your voice..."
"No, no. No, of course not. Not at all."
In an instant, her voice melted back into something honeyed and silken. Johan popped a few grapes into his mouth and went on.
"So. Even if your magic is weak, I can expect other talents of yours. I want to persuade the viscount — any ideas?"
Grrrowl—
"...?"
Johan found himself looking at Karamaf. With an air of irritation, the beast rapped the floor with his front paws — tang, tang — and pointed at Zhannina. She was trembling with humiliation.
"Are you hungry?"
The people of the city had not extended any extravagant hospitality to Zhannina or the Emperor's knights.
It wasn't as though they'd been fed wretched, rock-hard black bread. They'd been given warm bread, soup, freshly roasted meat — enough. The knights ate and drank their fill of it, but Zhannina could not.
A mage was naturally more delicate than a knight, after all. Buffeted and provoked on every side, she had no appetite besides.
And then a lavish banquet fit for the Emperor himself had spread itself out before Johan, and her starving stomach had acted entirely on its own.
"Did the knights steal your meals?"
"......"
"Tsk tsk. You there. Bring this mage food and drink."
His considerateness only deepened the humiliation — but her stomach, freshly awakened from its fast, made Zhannina docile. She meekly accepted the hospitality.
She certainly eats with relish.
Eat well she did. Having lived in the Emperor's court, every gesture was impeccable in its etiquette — yet something feral flickered beneath the surface.
"The viscount... will be difficult to persuade, my lord. What about persuading his children instead?"
"His children?"
"The viscount's children are young. They're full of grievances, and their loyalty runs shallow."
"Oh. And you're certain you should be telling me this?"
"......"
Zhannina froze mid-wipe, her mouth half-dabbed with a cloth.
...Have I lost my mind?
When the fleet assembled, the people of the city turned out in force to see the new count off. Johan waved as he boarded his ship.
Among those seeing him off were nobles of the surrounding lands. Hearing that the new count had come to the city, they had come to pay their respects — or so they told themselves.
There had been no real need, but flattery was best delivered while it still had value. And when would there be a better moment than this?
-We heard you were departing, my lord. We have no intention of delaying your departure; we merely ask that you grant us an audience.
The nobles rode their horses down to the harbor. Then, escorted by the soldiers, they stood before Johan and—
-????
-Uh... uh...?
"I thank you for your loyalty. May God's blessing be upon you."
The local nobles who didn't recognize Johan received his greeting pleasantly enough — but the few who had seen his face somewhere before turned to ice. Come to think of it, those mercenaries behind him looked terribly familiar too.
...D-did I say something I shouldn't have? I was drunk, maybe I don't remember...
"You knights have honored your oaths and your duties well. Once we make landfall, you are free to depart with Sir Ahir."
The vampires bowed their heads at Johan's words. Their companionship had not lasted long, but Johan was a knight worthy of respect.
"Your honor and valor, my lord, will ring out untarnished even among your enemies."
"I thank you. Might I ask where you intend to go?"
"To the Ulcana Peninsula in the east. Our uncle has sent for us."
The Ulcana Peninsula — a land of confusion, torn between petty kingdoms, the old empire, and the realm reaching out from the east. A skilled knight never lacked for opportunities there.
"Should you ever come to the lands of House Mulkr, we beg you to seek us out."
"If it comes to that, I shall be sure to visit."
"My lord! My lord!"
Sir Padobesi and Sir Zirto appeared, waving their tails in the peculiar fashion of dog beastfolk. Their faces were full of panic.
After the fleet set sail, Johan had refused every request for an audience with them. Their message was obvious, and there was no reason to hear it.
Zhannina, having predicted all of this, had half given up and kept quietly to herself — but the knights had resisted furiously. Only after pitching an almighty fit had they barely been granted leave to stand before Johan.
"What's the matter?"
"My lord! This is hardly what you told us, is it??"
"And what did I tell you?"
"Y-you said, quite clearly, that you would visit the domain as a guest..."
"Am I not going as a guest?"
At Johan's brazen deadpan, the surrounding mercenaries broke into knowing grins.
"Going as a guest, with th-this many ships...?"
"They're my escorts. You two were worried about my safety, weren't you? So I decided to take some precautions of my own."
The centurions beside him nodded along in vigorous agreement.
"We simply could not let my lord travel alone."
"We are grateful that you heeded our earnest counsel, my lord!"
"......"
The two knights' mouths hung open, words failing them entirely.
At least a thousand, probably two thousand men. Who in the world paid a social call at the head of an army like that?
"C-could you at least have given us advance notice!"
"Did I not send word that I was coming?"
"Y-you did."
Granted, the servant who'd delivered that message had been detained and was currently locked aboard a different ship. He would be given a thorough interrogation upon landing, and released thereafter.
Knowing nothing of this, the knights groaned in anguish. What was Johan playing at?
Did he want to flaunt his power? Or was there some other scheme entirely?
"Do not worry yourselves so."
"My lord?"
"Come to think of it — we didn't know, but the viscount and his people have likely caught on already. They'll have prepared for any sudden move Count Yeates might make."
"...!"
Put that way, it made sense. They themselves hadn't been surprised that Johan was coming as a guest. A shrewd old viscount would certainly have read the signs and anticipated it.
"Surely they don't intend to leave a guest standing outside the gates for long."
"...?!"
While the noble who had come out to greet them stood gaping in disbelief, the fleet glided smoothly into its berths and completed its landing as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The mercenaries set foot on solid ground with a roar that rattled the eardrums of anyone within earshot.
"N-nothing's been prepared at all, sir?"
"What preparation would that be, exactly?!"