novelraw Chapter 95 : Chapter 95
Chapter 95 : Chapter 95
Chapter 95
-Human!
Human!
Ever since he saw the Magic Tower, Calua had been talking nonstop, excited.
-You might not know, but what that fat human was trying to use was a curse!
It's a magic that makes your body very tired!
-Ah, don't worry!
If that fat human had used the magic, I was going to stop it!
A dragon was a dragon, after all.
From the magic spheres in the Magic Tower to everything else in it, he chattered on and on, giving me a headache.
But he had kept his promise to be quiet inside the Magic Tower, so I endured it.
-And the ring you received earlier is defective!
It only contains half the magic!
He also provided some surprisingly important information.
'A ring?'
-The blue ring you took from the fat human!
Took?
Anyone who heard that would misunderstand.
I had simply finished a legitimate transaction, and the moved vice-tower lord had given it to me as a gift of gratitude.
'Can you take a look at it when we get back to the room?'
-Of course!
I am a great dragon!
Suddenly even more excited, Calua started chattering again, moving his tail about three times faster.
What was so interesting about a place with only that madman in it?
"Um……."
"Hmm?"
At the voice from my side, I turned my head to see a valuable spoil of war.
"Ah, the spoil of war… no, Jeremy."
"Did you just call me a spoil of war……."
The spoil of war, which looked like it would collapse if I poked it, drooped and mumbled.
"Um… if you could tell me what I need to do when I get there……."
"What?"
When I couldn't understand his voice, which was like a crawl, he became pale, waved his hands, and hurriedly added.
"No, I absolutely, absolutely don't mean anything else.
I'm a mage of little consequence and have many shortcomings… uh… and sometimes there are employers who think that mages have amazing abilities……."
His rambling words went on for a long time, but the conclusion was simple.
"In short, you can't participate in battle, can you?"
"No, it's not that I can't, but to be precise, I want you to know that not just anyone can use magic on the battlefield……."
What Jeremy was trying to say was simple.
It was easy to think of mages as beings who burned and destroyed just by seeing one side of magic, but most mages did not delve deeply into combat magic.
'A wise choice.
If all mages had learned combat magic, the powerful people of this land would have tried to use them in any way they could.'
That's why mages were not popular in the game.
Their stamina was insufficient even when they just moved on the castle walls, and the mages hired at a high price were prone to dying with a single poke.
'If you somehow manage to roll and protect those guys and the magic they cast fails…….'
On the day that the great magic, cast over several days with 24-hour close protection for those weaklings, failed, a hatred for mages would naturally arise.
"I understand, so don't worry."
Of course, every problem has a solution.
"...Thank you for understanding."
"Well, for something like this.
Then, from tomorrow, let's train together."
If stamina was the problem, I just had to make them train with the knights, and if the problem was that they couldn't concentrate on the battlefield, I just had to throw them onto the battlefield until they could concentrate.
"Yes?
Training?
Young lord?
What, what kind of training!"
I moved my feet, leaving behind the spoil of war that had stopped in the middle of the road and was calling out to me desperately.
"You're talking about magic training, right?
Right?!"
He might be having a hard time now, but when axes started flying in front of his eyes, he'd probably think, 'Ah, I'm glad I trained.'
* * *
At the northern noble's gathering, the 'Cigar Smoking Gentlemen', a debate was in full swing.
"No!
Does this make any sense!"
"Taking all the command authority means they won't share the credit, doesn't it!"
"And they're telling each family to supply their own provisions.
Doesn't that mean they're telling us to bring our own food!"
Though it was closer to a denunciation than a debate.
"Now, now, everyone, please calm down a little……."
Viscount Dotran, the host, tried to calm the excitement, but the heated atmosphere did not subside easily.
"No, Viscount!
Do you think we can calm down now?
I'm about to give up my own soldiers and grovel, right now!"
"I'm ashamed to face my knight commander.
They say they'll use them like horses without giving us any command authority, and I have nothing to say even after seeing that……."
"I don't know what kind of situation this is!"
Looking at the angry nobles, the Viscount couldn't help but smile bitterly.
'So they want me to step up.'
If they were truly offended, they could just not provide support.
The reason they were here, their faces red, was to tell me to represent them and say something.
Normally, the Viscount would have stepped up and opened his mouth, as if he couldn't help it.
And if the other nobles here agreed, that would become public opinion.
'But this time, Moner is being too firm…….'
This time, the situation was different.
'If I step up first and get on the bad side of the ducal family, the loss will be considerable.'
Most importantly, wasn't this related to the Second Prince, who the royal family was backing?
If he got greedy in such a big matter, he was likely to lose what he already had.
'But if I do nothing, these guys will look down on me.'
It had not been long since the northern noble families, which had been wavering aimlessly after the death of Count Obsol and the seclusion of the Lyt and Merchen count families, had begun to unite under the Viscount.
If they started to doubt the Viscount's abilities now, the northern noble families would be shattered again.
As he was looking for a way to calm everyone down, Baron Diez caught his eye.
A baron who worked in the capital would have heard more information than a viscount who was a northern native.
He was the perfect person to pass the buck to, under the guise of seeking his opinion.
"Ahem, ahem.
Diez, what do you think?"
"...It's an interesting matter."
"Interesting?"
At those words, a few nobles became angry again.
In a situation where they had been openly insulted, what was so interesting?
"Ah, everyone, please think about it."
* * *
The moment Diez received Moner's letter, he felt a thrill.
'So this is Moner!'
The attitude of refusing even the troops that were being given was something that only those who were confident of victory could show.
Diez, who had read the short and concise letter dozens of times, was convinced.
"Everyone, it seems the royal family has made up its mind."
"...What do you mean?"
"First, I said I would support them with six knights and three hundred soldiers."
At those words, most of the nobles were slightly surprised.
Six knights and three hundred soldiers were more than half of the Baron's forces.
"And yet, I received the same letter as you all.
It was as if Moner didn't need six knights or three hundred soldiers."
"Ha……."
Diez slowly scanned the faces of the northern nobles.
"At first, I thought it was tremendous confidence."
He said in a calm voice.
He thought it was natural for Moner, with its troops trained in countless battles and its two masters, to be so.
"However, the more I thought about it, the stranger it became.
If they were so confident, they could just not accept the troops, but their ambiguous attitude of neither accepting nor not accepting them."
There was only one conclusion he had reached after mobilizing all his experience from working in the intelligence agency.
"Moner must have already accepted the support of the royal family.
And it must be at least at the level of the Royal Guard."
The nobles, surprised by his words, widened their eyes.
"Is that true?!"
"That is the conclusion I have reached.
Since they have already decided to receive outside help, they cannot coldly refuse our help, can they?"
"Then the command authority……."
"If the Royal Guard is there, it's useless for us to share the command authority among ourselves.
Moner would also prefer the Royal Guard to lead the external forces rather than sharing the command authority with us."
"Ha……."
"Indeed……."
The nobles listened to the Baron's words with serious faces.
The Royal Guard, which protected the royal palace, was certainly worthy of having the overall command authority over the support troops.
"Then why didn't they just say so, and write it in such a roundabout way?"
Someone who couldn't shake his suspicion asked, but that was something Diez had also thought about.
"That's simple.
The movement of the Royal Guard means that they are solidifying the line of succession.
It seems they want to keep it a secret until the knightly order moves."
"So there was such a reason……."
"Then, what do you think is the best thing to do?
If the Royal Guard is dispatched, our help will be barely noticeable……."
Diez, who had organized his thoughts for a moment at the fat noble's question, said.
"I will answer like this instead.
I am thinking of supporting them with twelve knights and five hundred soldiers."
"Ha……!"
"Are you saying you will mobilize all your forces?"
"It seems like a dangerous decision, as we don't know how many we will lose on the battlefield……."
Diez had not made this decision without any thought.
As a mid-level manager in the intelligence agency, he had accessed all the information he was allowed to, and had even dug through information he was not allowed to.
'The three count families are already preparing to move all their forces.'
Though they had lost their power now, the three families that had dominated the north had simultaneously moved all their forces.
'There's definitely something unseen at play.'
He did not share all the information.
To say that he knew the movements of the three secluded count families would be no different from revealing that he worked for the royal family's intelligence agency.
Instead, he added a few more words and then sat down to smoke a cigar.
* * *
The next evening.
The secretary-general came to Sven, who was wrestling with his documents.
"My lord Count, a letter from the northern noble families has arrived."
"Ah, that was fast."
It seemed the nobles were quite angry, to have sent a reply so quickly.
Of course, most of the letters would be full of annoyance and insults.
The Count, who had glanced at the letter, said in a dry voice.
"You read it and then throw it away."
He didn't even bother to ask him to look for any families that were still willing to provide support.
The Young Lord's judgment was plausible, but the honor and pride of the nobles were not something that could be understood with reason.
Even in a situation where their blood allies were being attacked, they would spit first if they received such a request.
"Ah, and don't tell the Young Lord.
As he said, they're the kind of people who would be poison even if they were here."
After saying that, he was about to go back to his documents when the secretary-general asked.
"Then, how should I respond to the letters that still say they will provide support?"
At the unexpected question, the Count raised his head and looked at the secretary-general.
"Is there such a letter?"
"Yes."
"A madman.
Refuse him.
He must have other intentions.
He must have either rolled around with the Orcs or received a bribe from them."
It was an absurd assumption, but so were the ones who said they would grant all the requests.
What did they plan to do if they sent back only the support troops after receiving both the support troops and the supplies?
And how could he prevent them from placing the support troops on the front lines to save their own forces?
He didn't know for sure, but he was surely more dangerous than a spy.
Or his forces were rotting away.
"It's not 'him', but 'them'."
"What?"
"All the northern noble families have sent letters saying they will provide support.
Most of the families have even informed us that they want to increase the scale of their support."
The Count stared at the secretary-general for a long time to gauge his sincerity.
"...Why?"
"How would I know?"
The Count, who had been thinking while silently rolling his pen, quietly asked.
"Are there any books on black magic in the fortress?"
It seemed that the rumor that the Young Lord had learned black magic…….
"My lord Count, the Young Lord is not a black magician."
"...I know that."
The secretary-general said once more to the Count, who was nodding slightly.
"Even if he were a black magician, how would it be possible to brainwash beings he has never met?"
The Count thought to himself that it was just as impossible for all the northern nobles to go mad at the same time and place, but he did not say it out loud.
He just couldn't believe what had happened, and he hadn't really suspected the Young Lord.
Instead, he just let out a small, incredulous sigh.
"He really is a genius, a genius."
How on earth had he predicted and planned this?