Chapter 42

Translator: Willia

Crushing the Peat Guild in just two days was a shocking event even by Grinnen’s standards.

People were used to gangs springing up and disappearing as though it were the most natural thing in the world, but the Peat Guild had existed in the city for a long time, and the position of guild master had already been passed down like a family trade for two generations.

People now understood perfectly well what kind of retribution awaited anyone who crossed The Froskar. They had also seen the power capable of carrying out that retribution, and the brutality of the results.

Power naturally gathered wherever strength and money existed. Valery had both, and once that was proven, he became someone no one could defy.

The first person to recognize this and act on it was a man named Edmund, the guild master of the Gem Guild.

As though he had been waiting for exactly this moment, he came to the mercenary company’s headquarters and requested an audience with Valery.

Valery had expected the guild master of the Gem Guild to dress extravagantly, but Edmund did nothing of the sort. If anything, he looked like a professional jeweler. His clothes were not silk, and he wore no ornaments of gold or precious stones.

Edmund sat across the table from Valery and placed a ruby roughly half the size of a fist on top of it.

“This ruby is called ‘Bloody Tears’. It is the most valuable gem ever mined in Grinnen.”

Knut, Arne, Skard, and Yorik were not seated with Valery. They stood wherever they pleased around the room or perched on things like cabinets, but everyone except Knut stared at the ruby with wide eyes.

A flawless gem of the highest quality and that size was almost impossible to put a price on. There might not be another one like it anywhere in the entire kingdom.

The problem with a gem like this was selling it. How much could anyone possibly charge for it, and who could possibly afford to buy it?

Then Edmund said something startling.

“I will give it to you.”

Valery silently considered his words. It was clearly a gesture of submission. They had never fought, but Edmund was, so to speak, bowing his head of his own accord.

Still, Valery assumed there had to be some intention behind offering him something like this, something Edmund wanted in return.

“What do you want?”

“Before I tell you what I want, can you bear it? Grinnen’s Bloody Tears, I mean.”

Edmund was speaking metaphorically. He meant the bloody tears formed from all the resentment, grief, pain, and sorrow that Grinnen, a city little different from a den of criminals, had endured over the years.

But Valery’s reply was cold.

“Do not expect that of me. I am no savior. In the end, the ones who must wipe away their own bloody tears and rise from where they have fallen are the people themselves. Let me ask you instead. What have you been doing all this time, only to come to me now and ask whether I can bear it?”

Edmund gave a bitter smile at Valery’s words, which struck directly at the heart of the matter.

“Unlike many others, neither I nor the members of our guild came here from somewhere else. We are natives of Grinnen. I am sure you know that there were two great wars in the past, Captain. At first, this place was a refuge. Now it has become more like a hiding place. To our shame, we simply lacked the strength to bear that burden ourselves.”

Before the wars, Edmund’s family had been an Astrian noble house. They had once ruled Grinnen.

But after two great wars, waves of refugees flooded in, followed by criminals, and his family lost the rights they had once held. They had somehow managed to preserve their lineage, but their former noble status was long gone.

Valery nodded as though he understood.

He was not so merciless that he would remain cold even toward a man honest enough to reveal the parts of himself he found shameful.

“I am neither the king of criminals nor the king of slaves. I will do what I must, and everyone else must do the rest for themselves. If you treat me with respect, I will treat you with respect in return. Take this gem with you.”

Edmund nodded in understanding, rose from his seat, and bowed at the waist. It was not quite an oath of fealty, but it clearly showed that he acknowledged Valery’s authority.

Then he walked out, leaving ‘Bloody Tears’ sitting on the table.

Valery picked up Bloody Tears and examined it. The gem was so large that it felt almost unreal. It glittered in the light streaming through the gap in the window, but rather than beautiful, it somehow looked sorrowful.

“Can I touch it too?”

Knut asked. Valery handed it to him, and as though they had been waiting for the chance, the others immediately crowded around to get a closer look.

With that, Valery had brought both of the city’s largest factions under his control. In the case of the Peat Guild, he had cut off its head and seized all its wealth and manpower, but he treated the Gem Guild with respect.

He sent Skard to sweep away the remaining small-time gangs, the minnows who had been collecting Turf Tax.

Afterward, he continued providing the people with work, money, food, and stable public order.

Once things had settled into a rhythm, a market formed naturally, and commerce began developing on its own. Grinnen had been a city to begin with, after all.

It was as though all he had done was give a little water to a dying man so he could wet his throat, only for the man to recover his strength and climb back to his feet.

Valery next put the people to work repairing the city walls. Grinnen was naturally defended by marshes and rivers, while its only landward approach from the west was surrounded by a palisade. The work involved replacing that palisade with a stone wall.

Time passed, and summer arrived. Summers in the north were cool, much like spring weather in the south.

By the time even that summer was drawing to an end, roughly four months had passed, and all of Eldeira’s forces had finally been mustered.

There were around a thousand fighting men. The entire population of Grinnen was only about two thousand.

An army in this age was not a single group operating under one unified system, but something closer to a coalition made up of many different groups.

As though to prove that point, all manner of different banners fluttered across the fields outside Torvik.

Brightly colored tents and large command tents capable of sheltering several people had been pitched throughout the encampment, with people constantly passing between them.

Some wagons were piled high with freshly butchered meat, while at the field kitchens, large numbers of women chopped meat and vegetables to prepare meals.

Whenever an army gathered, three or four times as many noncombatants gathered with it. There were the families of knights and soldiers, merchants, and others like them.

In other words, although the entire fighting strength of the Duchy of Eldeira amounted to fewer than a thousand men, the number of people traveling with the army reached four or five thousand.

It was not as though these people were going to farm or conduct business while gathered there. The food required merely to feed them for a single day cost an enormous amount.

On top of that, morale had to be kept high, so Feasts were held every day, with enough alcohol and food to make the camp feel almost like a festival.

Once the wages of the knights and soldiers, along with the cost of supplying all that food and alcohol, were taken into account, waging war was financially ruinous.

Duke Sven was shouldering almost all of those expenses himself. His power and resources were certainly impressive, befitting a duke, but if he failed to produce results, or worse, suffered a defeat, even a duke would have difficulty dealing with the consequences.

After four long months, nearly everyone finally seemed to have arrived. It was time to put an end to the laughing and revelry.

And so the commanders responsible for each contingent gathered in the command tent for a council. They included the Duke himself, his eldest son Gunnar, the Captain of the Guard and Military Officer, as well as Counts Winsloe, Winddale, and Levi.

Harold was also seated on a chair near the edge, while Gidwin stood nearby as his escort.

The Duke’s Captain of the Guard began explaining the plan as though delivering opening remarks.

“As you all know, any attack by land will require us to pass through the territory of the Marquis of Denbria. That means there is also the possibility of a clash with his forces. For that reason, we have considered opening a route through the marshes so that we have multiple avenues of attack. The waterways are difficult because if the enemy uses peat to attack us, our ships could easily be set ablaze. Therefore, I propose advancing by these two routes simultaneously.”

“......”

Given the gravity of the matter, the command tent remained silent apart from the noise coming from outside. The counts in particular kept their faces expressionless, as though seated at a high-stakes gambling table.

“As for opening a route through the marshes, we would like Count Levi to take charge of that.”

“......Why me?”

“Pardon?”

“There are two other counts sitting here. Why must I be the one to take that assignment?”

“Because you have the fewest knights......”

Winsloe had around seven knights including the count himself, while Winddale had around eight if one included the count, his son, a Baron, and the Marcher Knights.

Count Levi had only five, the fewest of them all. His territory was also the smallest.

Duke Sven was said to command around forty knights, but once everyone was actually mustered, the number came to only around thirty.

That was because, like the so-called Marcher Knight of Moltontower whom Valery had once visited as a Marshal, some were Marcher Knights in name only and were not true knights at all.

Even including the four knights who had died alongside the Second Young Lord, the total still would not have reached forty.

“So I am to be singled out because of that? Is that Your Excellency’s will?”

Count Levi asked, looking toward Duke Sven in the seat of honor. Sven clearly disliked the question, but forced a smile.

“Why would I ever single you out? The plan was devised by the Captain of the Guard and the Military Officer here after discussing it together. They are experienced men, so I ask that you heed their judgment.”

“If that is Your Excellency’s will, then as your Vassal I must naturally obey. But what about Pillage Rights?”

Pillaging was not something one could simply carry out however one pleased. An order could be established, or a specific amount of time assigned. It could even be banned entirely. Those were all matters the Supreme Commander had to decide.

“I will grant you half a day.”

“Grant me a full day.”

“......”

This was why commanding an army was so difficult. Brilliant strategies, clever schemes, and raw combat strength meant nothing if you could not first get everyone to damn well obey before anything could move forward.

There were even cases during wars when someone would simply pack up and leave because something displeased them.

That was why the ability of the Sovereign mattered above all else. Whether by crushing them into submission or winning them over, a man needed personal charisma if he hoped to lead these rough men.

Unfortunately, while the Duke knew how to devise schemes and intrigues, he lacked the ability to bring everyone under his control.

Count Levi was not rebelling for no reason. Refusals and demands like this were common when commanding an army.

“......Very well. You may have a full day.”

“Thank you.”

The Duke’s Captain of the Guard looked around the gathering once before continuing his explanation.

“If we can bring the army safely within striking distance of Grinnen by the land route, I believe the matter will effectively be over. We will demand their surrender, and if they refuse, we plan to begin Siege Warfare using ladders. Their defenses consist of a palisade, so if we exploit our numbers and charge all at once, we should be able to take the city within half a day.”

“Isn’t the route there the real problem? The road is narrow and runs through rough, rocky terrain. What do you intend to do if the Marquis of Denbria’s forces appear midway and threaten our flank?”

Count Aethelred of Winsloe asked.

“If every soldier carries a Stake and plants it beside the road as we pass, then so long as we never climb the slopes to fight them, we should be fine. The Highlanders are dangerous because they are accustomed to rugged terrain. Once they come down onto flat ground, they are no match for knights.”

The Highlanders did not ride horses. One of their distinctive traits was their use of enormous greatswords. They were accustomed to the highlands and possessed exceptional courage and stamina, but as the Captain of the Guard said, on ordinary flat ground they could not match knights.

“What about the supply line?”

This time it was Count Winddale who spoke.

“As I said......”

“No, let us say we pass through while planting Stakes. What if Grinnen does not fall immediately? How do you intend to transport food? If the Marquis’s forces cut our supply line, will we not be isolated in enemy territory? Wagons already have difficulty traveling that road as it is.”

The Captain of the Guard apparently could not think of an immediate answer, because he turned toward the Duke.

“I will guard the rear myself, so you need not worry about that.”

“Your Excellency will not be coming with us?”

“My eldest son will be responsible for the advance and the capture of the city.”

“......”

What in the world was he talking about? The three counts were left speechless. It defied common sense for the very man behind the war not to accompany his army.

Even if he did not fight on the front lines, common sense dictated that the Sovereign or Supreme Commander be present on the battlefield. It was necessary both symbolically and practically.

The knights and soldiers would risk their lives and charge because their Sovereign remained present and watched the battlefield. Otherwise, what were they supposed to believe in as they fought? They would also expect the Sovereign to witness their deeds personally so that the Reward Distribution afterward would be fair.

War was a matter of life and death. A man could not simply be told to risk his life and be expected to do it.

The three counts all felt that something about this was wrong, but none of them spoke. They looked at Gunnar. He had an impressive build, but there was nothing particularly trustworthy about his appearance. His reputation was not very good either.

“I will hire mercenaries and send them with you. We have already made contact, and you can consider the contract practically finalized. It is the famous Silverreach Mercenary Company, so taking a place like Grinnen should require three days at most.”

The Silverreach Mercenary Company was a famous mercenary band throughout the north. It had originally been a group of Nordic warriors, but had since expanded by accepting people from many different backgrounds.

They had around five hundred combatants, including roughly ten men who fought on horseback. In terms of military strength, they effectively surpassed a count’s forces. Normally, they remained scattered and only gathered when work became available.

“......”

Those attending the war council were not entirely pleased with any of this, but at this point it was not as though they could simply back out.

And with that, the meeting ended.

Count Winsloe left the command tent and started back toward his own tents with Harold, his knights, and Gidwin.

Before he had gone far, however, someone called out to him.

“Count Winsloe.”

He turned and saw Count Winddale. The man was infamous for being ignorant, but if ignorance were truly all there was to him, he could never have governed a county.

He was alone, without even a guard. Count Aethelred therefore turned to Harold and the others around him.

“Go on ahead.”

They assumed the two counts had something serious to discuss, so they nodded and left them alone.

One count and another. Not quite a private meeting, but close enough.

Count Aethelred asked,

“......What is it?”

“What do you think about the old grudge between our two houses?”

It was an abrupt subject, but the fact that Count Winddale had brought it up suggested he had something in mind.

“With the Nordics ruling the world, what meaning is there in some ancient grudge?”

The houses of Winsloe and Winddale had originally sprung from the same roots. Each had long claimed that the other’s territory rightfully belonged to them, leaving the two houses bitter enemies for generations.

After surviving the Conquest War, however, their relationship had cooled into little more than awkward distance. As an aside, the reason both houses had survived even after the Conquest War was that the Nordics had acknowledged their valor. Those who had surrendered too readily were all killed.

“I think the same. Which is why I was wondering, what would you say to the two of us joining hands?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I am not saying we must do anything immediately. But the more I think about all this, the less I trust it. If things go wrong, I am saying that at least the two of us should weather it together.”

Even if they ended up retreating, withdrawing as a united group would greatly improve their chances of survival.

And after arriving at the encampment and observing things for himself, Count Winddale had found both the Duke, who could not even keep his own son under control, and his idiotic eldest son utterly unreliable. To put it frankly, they both seemed like morons.

Ironically, his old enemy seemed far more trustworthy.

“We may have put our old grudge behind us, but is it not still too soon to say there is trust between us?”

Aethelred asked again.

“You have one Legitimate Firstborn Heir, and I have one daughter, do you not?”

He was proposing a Marriage Alliance. At that moment, Count Aethelred remembered what Valery had once told him.

‘Form an alliance with the Count of Winddale. Harold is not even engaged yet, so you can use him as an important diplomatic card. If you can bring Count Levi in as well, the Duke will no longer be able to push you around. If the need arises, you might even raise an army and challenge him outright.’

Count Aethelred’s mind raced through countless thoughts. He had heard, even from afar, that Valery had taken care of the Ball-Ripper, and more recently, that he had helped the Third Young Lord escape and taken refuge in Grinnen.

He did not know why Valery had done such a thing, but the whole situation left him conflicted.

One thing was certain. Just as Valery had said, Aethelred himself was not a man who had what it took.

But for the sake of his house and his family, he had to make a decision. In this war, he would either be swept away by the storm or survive it and seize an opportunity.

His hesitation lasted less time than expected, and Count Aethelred gave his answer.

“Very well.”