CH 40

A Grace Period

Solar’s knights and soldiers numbered around 1,500.

Amongst those 1,500, 500 were usually engaged with other things in their daily lives. In other words, without conscription, Solar’s army operated at 1,000 men at all times. Furthermore, due to the poor circumstances of the territory, they had not been fed and dressed warmly enough, and the men had been exhausted by the recent fight against the demonic beasts.

Unlike Solar’s army, the enemies camped outside the castle totaled approximately two thousand. Glossy, well-maintained swords and shields shone in the hands of well-fed, high-morale soldiers. Ayra grit his teeth as he observed from the watchtower. The enemy already had the advantage in numbers. Coupled with the unfortunate collapse of the fortress walls, their opponents now had an immense lead.

‘No, it’s not ‘unfortunate.’ They must have come running right after hearing about the walls’ collapse.’

They must have thought it easy to devour a small, impoverished territory–a good opportunity. If a King were to exist, one could ask him to mediate, but no such king existed in this land. ‘Lords’ were simply those who ruled over fiefs that constantly warred and subsumed one another.

If you’re weak, you’ll be devoured without even the chance to complain about injustice.

While Ayra descended from the top of the tower to the castle walls, Bloom rushed towards him. After dismounting his horse, the knight clambored up the wall with his large body. He knelt in front of Ayra and murmured his respects, green eyes shining from the gaps of his helmet. “It’s dangerous here. You must save yourself and head back to the castle.”

“Enough. What’s the point of saving myself and holing up in the castle at a time like this,” Ayra said, looking at the rows of soldiers through the peepholes made for archers to shoot through on the castle ramparts. Blood-red flags flapped in the midst of the disciplined infantry.

“My lord, you’re the last heir to the Solar family. Your safety is the most precious thing in this fief.” Bloom said solemnly–this was an unprecidented crisis in the territory’s history.

However, Ayra had no intention of saving himself and secluding away inside the castle. Bolney’s army was camped and waiting, but there were no signs of war breaking out just yet. This meant that the other side was willing to converse first.

Bloom’s earnest request entered one ear and flowed right out the other; Ayra stood atop the ramparts and stared down at the soldiers. Everyone looked scared and exhausted. Morale was already declining sharply; the results of a war, if it broke out, were obvious.

After a short wait, just as he’d expected, a horseback messenger came over. The red flag fluttered as the messenger shouted in a loud voice, “Lord of Solar, open this door and show yourself! Duke Nilma Arbalt has a message for you!”

Bloom’s eyes shone coldly when he saw that messenger’s arrogance–how dare he demand the lord of the land to come out? Ayra was too busy calculating the circumstances of the situation, so his pride wasn’t hurt. However, Bloom’s rage flared up. “That insolent…! I’ll go and wallop his head right away.”

​​”What? Are you trying to start a war? Sir, you don’t need to do that, even for the sake of keeping up appearances.”

In this situation, decapitating a messenger was akin to throwing down the gauntlet and starting war immediately, which would spell the end of the fief. However, the knight captain’s eyes were ferocious, as if his words were sincere.

Honestly, though, how could the other just insult him like that? The messenger’s attitude demeaned all of Solar.

However, the man knew very well that the powerless Ayra could only choose between surrender and defeat. In this case, if they chose defeat, they would suffer numerous casualties. In other words, losing a war. Ayra wanted to avoid that worst-case scenario.

“Sir Bloom, the General and you should prepare  to evacuate the citizens just in case.” As he gripped his hood tightly, Ayra sighed and commanded his subordinate. Perhaps because they were atop the castle walls, the wind felt especially cold and biting.

Bloom jumped to his feet and hurriedly followed Ayra as he walked away, robes fluttering in the wind. “My Lord! Are you thinking of acquiescing to their demands?”

“And, if I don’t? What can I do against an army like that?”

“They could harm you, my lord.”

“As I’ve said before, I can protect myself.”

“But…! E-Even so…”

When the knight didn’t obey his order, Ayra turned around quickly.  The young lord took the lead before the knight could take him away. The knight’s pleads fell upon deaf ears.  “How dare you disobey my orders?”

Perhaps due to his identity as a knight, the word ‘disobey’ was particularly effective.  Bloom’s face paled, and he immediately panicked, kneeling down with a clanking sound. “N-No. I will obey my lord’s orders.”

When the last landslide occurred, Ayra had been protecting Janus and the horses and had eventually fainted. However, if Ayra had been alone, things would not have gotten to the point where the mage fell unconscious. He had no idea how strong Bloom was, but, in a worst-case scenario, the man would definitely be a burden.

Even after saying he’d follow the commands, Bloom remained restless as he followed behind his lord. When Ayra went to the watchtower above the gate–and not under the wall–he asked wonderingly, “My Lord? The way down is over there.”

“I know. But, there’s no need to open the gate, after all.”

Since his soldier’s morale was nearly dead, Ayra thought a spectacular performance was needed. Therefore, Ayra threw himself off the watchtower on purpose. The soldiers watched over the situation with bated breaths; a scream tore itself out of Bloom’s mouth.

Contrary to their expectations, Ayra did not fall. Instead, he slowly floated down from the watchtower, the hem of his robe fluttering gracefully in the air. He landed on the ground with a tap and strode forward; the messenger, watching this spectacle, flinched and retreated a few steps. “W-Who are you?”

“I heard that Duke Nilma Arbalt has something to say to me,” Ayra said, gray eyes shining from behind the shadows of his hood. He finally understood why veteran mages from the Labyrinth liked to appear from high places while wearing loose robes. It was thrilling to be the subject of people’s startled expressions and gazes…

The messenger’s eyes wavered–it seemed as if he had not heard the news that Solar’s new Lord was a mage. However, he soon cleared his throat and spoke loudly, “That’s right! Our revered Sir Arbalt summoned you, so Solar’s Lord should hurry along. This way.”

However, Ayra didn’t follow along. He stood straight and muttered coldly, “…is that right? This way? Are you trying to order me around right now?”

The messenger swallowed dry saliva at that cold gaze.

Ayra clapped his hand as he stared at the insolent messenger. When the ground that the messenger had been standing on contorted, the messenger jumped back in fear. As soon as Ayra raised his hand and curled his index finger, the man immediately groveled, “N-No, of course not. I-I will guide Lord Solar t-to Lord Arbalt.”

Unlike the citizens of this estate who were reluctant to meet mages and were afraid of magic because of their ignorance, the fear this messenger showed suggested that he’d had previous unpleasant run-ins with mages.

Before Ayra took on the Lord’s mantle, he had been dispatched as an agent of the Labyrinth; still, he had never been treated like this before. Deeply offended, he clamped the messenger’s lips shut. The messenger, whose lips turned blue due to the intangible pressure, somehow managed to open his mouth–although, no matter how hard he tried, no words came out. After a few seconds, Ayra released his magic and warned the other with a displeased expression, “From now on, it would behoove you to watch your mouth in front of a mage from the Labyrinth.”

“Y-Y-Yes. I-I’ll keep that in mind.”

This time around, even though the young lord didn’t use magic, the messenger’s legs trembled, like a shaking tree. Still, since the other was an ordinary person, Ayra felt that he had been generous in his own way.

As he followed the messenger, the young lord recalled information about Bolney’s Lord.

Duke Nilma Arbalt.

In a world without a king, each lord of a fief would call themselves dukes or marquise. In general, if one believed themselves to hold great power, they would call themselves a duke; if they had less power, they would become a marquis. Those that had little power, like Ayra, were simply referred to as ‘Lords.’

Nilma Arbalt, the lord of Bolney, had declared himself duke. In other words, that meant Bolney had considerable power–enough to mobilize 2,000 soldiers on a whim, as if he were merely taking a hike.

The messenger continued to grovel as he led Ayra to the largest barracks. The gazes of well-armed knights guarding the area followed the two. Ayra, who entered the enemy barracks under such harsh stares, looked dubiously at the person that was waiting for him.

‘That’s not Duke Nilma Arbalt, right?’

“Are you Solar’s Lord?” A young man, armed to the teeth like the knights outside, spoke arrogantly. However, unlike the knights whose armor had scratches here and there from wear and tear, the young man’s leather undercoats and metal plates shone brilliantly. As Ayra questioned who the man addressing him was, the stat window automatically popped up.

<Nilma Argan>

HP: 952

MP: ???

Physical Attack: ???

Magic Attack: ???

Affection: -8 <3

Looking at his HP–which was less than 1,000–Ayra could clearly see that this man wasn’t a knight. Even escorting knights had HP numbering around 25,000.

Honestly, if these knights were considered strong, what did that make Janus, who had a HP value like that? Ayra absentmindedly took off his hood as he thought about the mercenary’s monstrous HP. His silver hair fluttered as it fell, and Nilma Argan’s eyes abruptly widened.

“I’m Solar’s Lord,” Ayra stated.

[Nilma Argan’s Affection increased by 12.]

Current Affection: 4

‘Did my face make him like me more?’

‘Well, that’s possible I suppose.’ Ayra wasn’t particularly surprised by the rise in the affection stat since he was confident in his own appearance. In both his previous and current life, attractiveness–and wealth–were both powerful factors that could be leveraged for another’s favor.

Meanwhile, the messenger hurriedly approached and whispered something in Nilma Argan’s ear.

“Hm? He’s a mage from Labyrinth?”

As soon as Nilma Argan shouted, startled, his escorting knight adopted a vigilant, guarding stance. The knight’s hand rested naturally on the handle of his sword. Meanwhile, Nilma Argan’s affection increased yet again.

[Nilma Argan’s affection increased by 5].

Current Affection: 9

Evidently,  this person also liked Labyrinth mages a lot. To be fair, many lords and their vassals had struggled to employ Ayra each time the young lord left the Labyrinth. Inwardly, the young lord felt proud.

‘That’s right–this is how they should normally react to me. My citizens are the strange ones…’

TL: Ayra… I need your confidence lmao. We all need the same amount of “I’m hot so of course they love me.”