Chapter 2
Chapter 2
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: The War Hero Gets Married (2)
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[Grates Kingdom, royal capital Evergarden. Grand banquet hall—Crystal Hall.]
End of war.
Not a ceasefire.
The complete end of the war.
The war was over.
The war between the Empire and the rest of the world, which had dragged on for nearly twelve years, came to a 'draw' after the final battle.
The Empire's conclusion was that continuing the fight would only rack up more losses.
The Empire had already claimed the lands of several conquered kingdoms as their own territory, and my kingdom along with the Alliance had managed to survive.
-Guarantee our independence!
During the negotiations, the nations already conquered by the Empire raised their voices in protest, claiming injustice.
-Just keep your mouths shut, and you'll have at least five years of peace.
-Haven't they already been wiped out, with every last royal dead? Just quietly fade into history.
-If the Empire abandons the end-of-war talks because of you and goes all-in on total war, are you going to take responsibility?
The war-weary majority suppressed their voices under the name of a collective desire for peace.
It wasn't perfect peace.
Both sides feared mutual destruction—especially the Empire, which had unilaterally pushed forward only to ultimately fail to breach the Alliance Kingdoms' defenses and give up.
And who had pulled off that defense?
"The Alliance's Shield, [Grand Master]!! Sir Hans Wilhelm!!"
Me.
I was the hero receiving thunderous cheers from the hundreds gathered in this kingdom's grand banquet hall, the Crystal Hall.
"Kyaaa!"
"Hero!!"
"Look this way!"
The noble ladies lining both sides of the red carpet clamored for me to wave.
Of course, I knew full well that this adulation wasn't the kind reserved for some S-tier celebrity. It was directed at the Grand Swordmaster—the Wilhelm Count—who had brought about the end-of-war negotiations.
A man reflected in hundreds of eyes.
Me.
Black hair.
Red eyes.
A long scar across my cheek, and compared to the refined men in the hall, hardly what you'd call 'handsome.'
'Better than my previous life, though.'
But I was satisfied with this face.
'Taller than before, and more handsome. That's all that matters.'
Compared to my face in my previous life, this reincarnated body's looks were relatively Leonardo DiCaprio-level, no question.
And it wasn't like this body paled in comparison to the nobles gathered here—they were just exceptionally good-looking. This form had a solid appearance and build, nothing to be ashamed of.
In the first place, who cares about looks when your swordsmanship is the strongest on the continent?
A woman you could win with mere charm was one thing, but as the continent's top hero, the number of women I could embrace was far greater.
"Heh."
"Kyaaaa!!"
Just lightly raising my hand and waving was enough to make the ladies scream.
It wasn't common for noble daughters to shriek like that amid hundreds of nobles, but this occasion made it inevitable.
Sharing a drink on the terrace with the war hero—and spending the night at his invitation—was the perfect prologue to a romantic fantasy for those noble ladies.
"Th-those vulgar women."
Such mutterings arose here and there, directed at the ladies blushing toward me.
"Look at them scheming to bear the Grand Master's child and become countess somehow. Utterly ugly."
"And that's not all? Those from other kingdoms are practically throwing themselves at him to lure the Grand Master back home."
"You think they're doing it out of true love for the Grand Master? It's all political maneuvering."
True enough.
It wasn't strange for the nobles in this hall to speak in terms of such political calculations.
"Master..."
Among them were some stunning beauties—women I'd pick in a heartbeat if given a wish to spend one night, or every night, with anyone here.
Of course, those beauties hated that I didn't firmly reject the advances of various women.
Because they despised the 'hero womanizer' trope.
But they only knew half the story.
'So what if they approach like political vipers?'
I was a Grand Swordmaster now. No one on the continent could beat me anymore, and I wasn't the type to be easily seduced by just any woman for a night.
'That's why they call it the "hero womanizer" for a reason.'
And besides.
'This is my reward for spinning like a top on the front lines as a hero all this time. If I embrace this one or that one—or even hold two at once—what of it?'
So what if I indulged a bit?
As long as they weren't Empire spies, I could date freely and part ways without issue. And spending a night with me was like a medal of honor for those ladies.
"His Majesty the King arrives—"
For the awarding of that symbol of honor, the white-haired old king now took his seat on the throne.
In accordance with etiquette, everyone bowed to the king, and the knights—including me—knelt on one knee.
"Rise, all of you."
The king commanded, raising the scepter in his hand.
His voice soon filled the entire Crystal Hall, and I leisurely stood, scanning my surroundings.
Aside from me, plenty were simply thrilled that the banquet was happening at all.
Naturally so.
This banquet celebrated the end of the war with the Empire—a gathering to toast how the Grates Kingdom and numerous other nations had survived.
"Before we begin the feast, we cannot neglect to call our hero. Grand Master, Hans Wilhelm!!"
Clap clap clap clap!!
Even the Grates King rose from his seat to applaud me.
Truth be told, I'd rather drag a beauty to the Wilhelm Mansion's bedroom and spank her rear than receive this applause, but I approached the king calmly and knelt once more.
"Your humble servant Hans Wilhelm stands here today thanks to His Majesty's boundless grace."
"Haha, no need for modesty. You became the Alliance's—no, the continent's—shield, blocking that vile Empire, which is why I still sit as Grates Kingdom's king and we all remain nobles rather than common Empire subjects. You are..."
The king launched into a lengthy speech at a leisurely pace.
It detailed every battle represented by the medals pinned to my dress uniform's chest, listing my victories one by one.
'The past doesn't matter—hurry up so I can get to the ladies.'
I understood the king's intent to pray for the kingdom's peace through its war hero, but if I could speed things up, I'd seduce one of those ladies and enjoy the night right then.
Three months had passed.
The last woman had been an Empire honey trap spy, no less, and I'd been forbidden from even relieving myself, enduring nearly ninety-nine days of frustration.
Tonight, if I caught even one, I wouldn't let her go.
I could turn the bed into Niagara Falls.
So—
"...we must reward such a war hero."
Finally.
"Is there anything you desire?"
Desire?
Build a harem of beauties and live a carefree pleasure life.
Whirr.
But I couldn't say that in this official setting—especially not with magic recording devices capturing everything.
I was a social creature, after all.
"This humble one has shattered his bones for the continent's peace alone. As long as the Empire spills no more blood and all may live in peace, that is reward enough."
Even saying it gave me chills.
Some nobles in attendance—especially those who knew my true nature—pretended to gag and snickered behind their hands.
"Oho, a true hero! He seeks nothing but peace! How can we merely praise such a man?!"
The king rose from his throne, eyes brimming with emotion, and cried out.
"I, Grates 18th!! As this nation's sovereign, I declare here and now! What I bestow upon war hero Hans Wilhelm is... none other than!!"
Click, clack.
"My daughter, Princess Knight Sylvia!"
"What."
Accompanied by the sound of white heels, someone in a gown like a wedding dress entered the hall.
She was a beauty, no doubt.
Her white hair swept up, green eyes, and pale skin made her one of the most stunning women present—top-tier even among this crowd.
Grates Kingdom's First Princess, Sylvia de Grates.
"Y-Your Majesty. Princess Sylvia is...!"
"My daughter."
I knew.
All too well.
"You've had your eye on Sir Wilhelm since his recruit days, haven't you? Hahaha!"
When I enlisted in the Grates Kingdom's army as a recruit—'volunteered' written large, 'forcibly conscripted' read small—she'd been the officer training soldiers for the Empire war, incognito.
Older woman.
I'd enlisted at fifteen, and she was twenty-five then.
I was twenty-seven now, making her thirty-seven.
And the biggest issue.
Unmarried.
"Take good care of my daughter, Count."
"......That."
"What's wrong? Surely you don't dislike my daughter?"
"One question, if I may."
Ignoring Princess Sylvia's gaze as best I could, I cautiously raised my hand.
"If I marry Princess Sylvia and become your son-in-law, might I still—"
"That."
Grates 18th averted his eyes.
"Discuss it with Sylvia."
"......."
The moment my eyes met Princess Sylvia's.
'I'm screwed.'
My instincts screamed it.
No concubines, no mistresses, no harem—just one woman for life.
No.
If I ever embraced another, it'd only be a daughter born to Sylvia.
"The formal wedding will be in one hundred days' time...!"
And so.
"Here and now, I declare your marriage!!"
Before I could enjoy my Casanova free-love life, the king's proclamation made me a married man.
"...Damn this 18th."