Chapter 24: Who’s That Rough-Looking Guy?
Under the bright midday sun, the second-floor conference hall of the Daphne Viscounty mansion was unusually lively.
“Lord, as of today, we’ve begun construction in the northern part of the castle.”
“How long do you think it will take?”
“We estimate it will be finished in about three to four months. Thanks to the lower price of stone, we saved a great deal on construction costs.”
“Hoho, that’s wonderful. It seems fortune is on our side.”
At his retainers’ reports, a smile spread across Viscount Cobalt’s face.
Further reports continued.
“We also purchased new wheat seedlings to plant in the reclaimed land. They’re supposed to yield more and be resistant to disease…”
“Well done, very well done! Hohoho!”
Now that they had money, everything inspired a smile.
Until now, every meeting had been nothing but complaints—impossible, too difficult, no funds.
Now, everything was possible.
With money, there was nothing they couldn’t do, and with nothing left they couldn’t do, there was no more worry.
Viscount Cobalt smiled faintly.
“This is all thanks to Hardin.”
The 300,000… no, to be precise, 200,000 gold Hardin had earned.
Thanks to that, they had finally been able to take care of all the family’s long-delayed matters.
While he spent such satisfying days, there was only one small thing he regretted…
“It would have been nice if Hardin could have joined this meeting as well.”
The very person who had brought in all that money, Hardin himself, couldn’t attend the family meeting.
The day he earned the 300,000 gold, Hardin had disappeared, leaving behind only a single note in his room.
[Going to prepare for the Territorial War. Don’t look for me.
-Hardin Daphne]
A Territorial War with an extremely low chance of occurring—Hardin had vanished, saying he would prepare for it.
Though the content was a little bewildering, Viscount Cobalt wasn’t terribly disappointed.
“It just means he worries that much about the family.”
How much unseen, grueling effort had Hardin put in until now?
He’d recovered mana that had been considered almost impossible to restore, defeated the great Donfel, and even tracked down the Vinter Merchant Guild, which the family knights together hadn’t managed to locate.
It showed just how much he was acting for the family’s sake.
A Territorial War with Calpion—unlikely to happen, and Calpion hadn’t shown any particular movements, but…
“He must want to prepare for even that one-in-a-thousand chance.”
It was Hardin’s time and Hardin’s money.
He did wish that it could be used on something more practical, but… perhaps that was only Cobalt’s selfish hope and greed.
For now, this alone was more than enough.
“Indeed, it certainly is.”
With his arms folded, Cobalt quietly nodded to himself.
It was just as his happiness had swelled like a balloon.
Thud!
“L-Lord!”
All of a sudden, the conference hall doors burst open like thunder, and the attendant Gadolph came rushing in.
“What is it? We’re in the middle of a meeting.”
“Th-th-th…”
“Speak clearly, Gadolph.”
Pressed by Cobalt, Gadolph took a moment to catch his breath, then raised his head and shouted.
“Just now, Young Master Hardin has arrived at the castle!”
“Oh?”
“Young Master Hardin?”
At that, everyone’s attention turned toward Gadolph.
“Tell him to come here right away. Inform him we’re in the middle of a family meeting.”
“F-Forgive me for saying so… but… Lord, I think it would be best if you came out yourself.”
“What are you talking about?”
“This is… a little difficult to explain, but the current situation…”
“Situation? Speak clearly.”
“T-that… perhaps you should just come see for yourself.”
An awkward smile appeared on Gadolph’s face, and sweat beaded heavily on his forehead.
Anyone could see he looked flustered.
Cobalt shook his head slightly and rose from his seat.
“…Very well, I shall go.”
Step, step.
Everyone in the conference hall quickly followed him out to the hallway, stopping at the second-floor railing overlooking the first-floor lobby.
And there—
“Father, I’m back.”
“Hardin.”
Standing in the first-floor lobby, Hardin waved up at Cobalt, the corners of his lips lifting in a light smile.
In that instant, everyone’s eyes grew wide.
“Huh?”
“But behind him… who are those people?”
Behind Hardin, who was smiling so innocently—
“…Ah, greetings.”
“H-ha… ha…”
Thirteen vagrant-looking men, all wearing shabby clothes with a sword each strapped at their hips.
They filled the lobby completely, lowering their heads with awkward faces.
And on top of that…
“Who in the world is that one?”
“…Doesn’t he have the face of a killer?”
When they looked at Beryl, who stood right beside Hardin, everyone’s mouths fell open.
His muscular body was covered in scars and tattoos, and those sharp, three-white eyes that seemed to pierce right through a man’s soul.
Just looking at him created a suffocating sense of pressure.
“Hoho, greetings? I am Beryl.”
Grin!
Beryl did his best to produce what he thought was a smile.
But contrary to his intention, a dark shadow fell across his face, making him look like some kind of demon.
“Guh! What is that?!”
“That expression…”
Shiver!
As everyone recoiled in fright, Beryl wasted no time stepping forward.
“Um, this… I bought it as a gift…”
Still grinning awkwardly, Beryl held out a small flower pot in both hands.
And where did this come from?
[Um, Young Master. May I ask you for one favor?]
[What is it?]
[C-could you buy me a flower pot on the way? It’s my first time visiting, and I thought it’d be good to bring some kind of present…]
[…You sure have a surprisingly thoughtful side, don’t you?]
He’d insisted that first impressions were important, and had picked it out in a city on the way here.
The problem was, nobody else saw it that way.
From the second-floor railing, the retainers’ faces turned grave.
“T-that bastard is going to strike the Young Master’s head!”
“It’s dangerous!”
To anyone looking, it appeared Beryl was about to smash Hardin’s skull with the flower pot.
Shing!
Mulgybson drew the sword at his waist and, without any hesitation, leapt straight down to the first floor.
“Young Master! It’s dangerous…!”
“Huh?”
“Why, what’s dangerous?”
While Hardin tilted his head in confusion—
Crash! Clang!
Mulgybson’s sword shot out, smashing Beryl’s flower pot to pieces.
“Uh… uh…?”
My gift…?
Beryl froze in place, unable to understand what was happening, while Mulgybson thrust his sword right up to Beryl’s face and shouted.
“You vile brute! Get away from the Young Master at once!”
“Eh? W-why are you doing this?”
“Don’t play dumb. You were just about to harm the Young Master, were you not?”
“Whaaat? Me?”
Beryl frantically waved his hands and shook his head vigorously.
Of course, it didn’t do a bit of good.
“Don’t lie! Everyone here saw your wicked deed clearly! Isn’t that right?”
“Th-that’s right!”
“I definitely saw it too!”
The retainers all nodded their heads emphatically.
Mulgybson furrowed his brow deeper, pressing his momentum.
“Speak! For what purpose have you come here?”
“N-no! We just came following the Young Master, that’s all!”
Sweat poured down Beryl’s face as he desperately tried to muster an innocent smile.
The problem was, it only made things worse.
Shiver!
Another monstrous grin and shadow fell over Beryl’s face.
“Damn it!”
“T-that expression again!”
“Be careful, Young Master!”
The retainers shrieked in alarm once more.
Did I… do something wrong?
As Beryl scratched his head in bewilderment, Mulgybson thrust his sword forward again and roared.
“You lot! Get out of here, now!”
“B-but…”
Just as the lobby was about to descend into chaos again—
“Wait a moment, stop.”
“Huh?”
Hardin stepped between them, extending an arm.
“Y-Young Master. It’s dangerous—please, get behind me at once!”
“Come on, it’s fine.”
Really, life was exhausting when you didn’t act the way you looked.
Hardin waved his hand dismissively and pointed his thumb at Beryl.
“I’m not being threatened.”
“Pardon? What do you mean…?”
“I’m saying I brought them here.”
“You… you brought them? Personally?”
“Yes.”
“Are you telling the truth?”
“I’m telling you the truth.”
Mulgybson glanced back and forth between Beryl and Hardin over and over again.
“H-ha… ha…”
Beryl, now feeling thoroughly awkward, raised the corners of his mouth again.
Shiver!
Mulgybson flinched at the chill running down his spine and thrust his sword forward once more.
“H-he made you say that, didn’t he?”
“No, that’s not it.”
“You can be honest with us! No matter what, I will protect you—”
“I’m telling you, it’s not like that.”
Why are they overreacting so much…?
Hardin let out a heavy sigh and turned his head back slightly.
“Y-Young Master…”
And right in front of him was Beryl’s face, smiling awkwardly.
Shiver!
“Gah! You scared me!”
Warn me before you come in so close, damn it…
Hardin jumped back in surprise.
“V-very well, I will just cut him down!”
“No, no! I said it’s not like that! Please, put that sword away!”
When Mulgybson raised his sword again, ready to charge, Hardin hurried to restrain him.
At that moment, a deep, composed voice came from the side.
“Hardin, what in the world… is going on here?”
“Ah, you’re here.”
Hardin pointed to Beryl as he noticed Viscount Cobalt and the retainers had come down to the first floor.
“Well, these guys here—they’re mercenaries.”
“Mercenaries?”
“Yes, um… what was your mercenary band’s name again?”
Beryl let out a long sigh and answered.
“The Maw… Mercenary Band.”
“The Demon Mercenary Band?”
“Maw. It’s Maw.”
“Ah, right. That’s it.”
Strictly speaking, they were former mercenaries, and until recently, bandits… but it was all about the same line of work anyway.
Hardin nodded slightly and went on.
“Anyway, I brought them here because I plan to keep them under me.”
“…Hm? You mean you’re going to keep mercenaries under your command?”
…Why in the world?
The lord and retainers all wore bewildered expressions.
---
A short while later, in the lord’s chambers.
Viscount Cobalt, the Third Young Master Malion, and Hardin sat around a table.
Each had a cup of tea in front of them, and all their faces were oddly stiff.
Cobalt took a sip and asked.
“So… you’re saying you plan to station the mercenaries you brought here in our territory?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Is that, perhaps…”
“I’ve told you before, haven’t I? It’s for preparing for the Territorial War.”
“Ah…”
The Territorial War… of course.
A bead of sweat formed on Viscount Cobalt’s forehead.
Then Malion adjusted his glasses and spoke.
“Brother, may I ask how much you spent?”
“On what?”
“Since you hired them, you must have paid them something.”
“Ah, that…”
Hardin folded his fingers and thought for a moment.
Two thousand gold each, thirteen men.
Then about thirty thousand gold to cover the commission for finding the orphans’ parents, and with the rest… he’d bought decent swords and armor.
At first, he’d planned to leave some aside, but once he started spending, nothing was left in his purse.
Well, it was better to be thorough than to do things halfway.
Hardin smiled lightly.
“I spent it all.”
“Excuse me? What did you say?”
“I said I spent all the hundred thousand gold. Mercenaries cost a fortune these days.”
“…”
A hundred thousand gold…
Cobalt sipped his tea with an awkward expression.
Malion spoke in an utterly flat voice.
“It seems you were swindled.”
“Swindled?”
“Those mercenaries outside—none of them appeared to be mana users. And yet you paid them a hundred thousand gold.”
“So you’re saying you’re dissatisfied?”
When Hardin asked, Malion shook his head and continued in a calm tone.
“Why would I be dissatisfied? You spent your own money. However…”
“However?”
“It’s just… I find it regrettable to see that you remain unchanged.”
“What exactly is so regrettable?”
“It appears you still… spend money recklessly.”
A faint irritation flickered across Malion’s face as he answered.
Of course. People don’t change so easily.
Even if he’d recovered his mana.
Even if he’d been lucky enough to defeat Grand Young Master Donfel.
Hardin was still Hardin.
The same reckless, selfish, and foolish man he’d always been.
At that moment, Viscount Cobalt forced an awkward smile and spoke.
“Hoho, well… it’s all experience, isn’t it? It was Hardin’s money anyway. No need to be so critical.”
“I only said it because it’s a shame. With that money, he could have used it on something much better for the family.”
Malion returned to his emotionless face and sipped his tea.
Hardin let out a shallow sigh.
‘So that’s what this is—Dissatisfaction.’
Well, he couldn’t really blame them.
These people probably couldn’t even imagine that a Territorial War might really happen.
And besides… thanks to the seals he’d placed, they wouldn’t be able to gauge the true value of those former bandits at all.
Hardin rose from his seat.
“In any case, I’ve already arranged for them to be received into the territory. So just know that’s how it is.”
“Why are you leaving so soon, Hardin? You don’t wish to stay a little longer?”
“Before the war starts, I’m going to drill them a bit.”
“…Drill them? What do you mean by that?”
“You’ll see. I’ll make sure they’re useful by then.”
Bang!
With that, Hardin strode out of the lord’s chambers.
Malion shook his head, then quietly asked in a low voice.
“Father… are you really… alright with this?”
“…”
Cobalt could not bring himself to answer aloud, but his expression spoke for him instead.