A Mercenary’s Rebirth Among Nobles — Chapter 161

Chapter 161

Eisen⁠‍ left his will⁠ to Lucian and⁠ Felicia, and two⁠ days later Eisen‍⁠ passed away.

Given‍⁠ his advanced age‍ and the obvious deterioration of his‌ health for quite⁠‌ some time, it⁠ was something that‍ had long been‌ anticipated.

Even‌ so, the sense⁠⁠ of loss and⁠⁠⁠ the impact of⁠ the disappearance of‍ a giant who‌ had defined an entire era were‌‍ enormous.

The vassals who had dealt with Eisen‍‌ were also unable to hide their sorrow, and Felicia⁠⁠ went as far‍‍⁠ as spending three‌ days without tasting‍‌ food or water.‌

Lucian‌ withdrew from affairs of state for an entire day‌‍⁠ to mourn the‍‍‌ death of his‍‍ former master and,⁠⁠ afterward, summoned the⁠⁠ administrators of the White Castle to give orders.

“A‌ great Swordmaster has‌‍ been welcomed into‌⁠‌ the bosom of‍‌ the Eight Gods.⁠⁠ As his disciple, I wish to‌ hold a solemn⁠ funeral.”

There was no one‌⁠⁠ who objected. Even‌‍ the treasurer, despite‍‌ knowing that enormous sums would be spent, did not⁠ open his mouth.‍ Eisen, the Swordmaster,‌⁠‌ had more than⁠ enough merit to‍ receive such treatment.‌‌

Moreover,⁠‍ the title of‌ Swordmaster was the‍ object of admiration⁠⁠‌ and longing for‌ all knights.

Who‌‌‍ would dare propose‌ reducing the scale‍‌ of the funeral‌ by citing budgetary⁠ problems?

Even‌ if the duke‌ were to forgive‍⁠ it, the other‌ knights would most⁠ likely tear that‍‍ person apart with their own hands.

“The‍⁠‍ Swordmaster left behind⁠ countless exploits in‌⁠ life, so for⁠ some time there⁠‌ will be no‌‌ shortage of visitors⁠‍ coming to pay their respects. Pay‌‍‌ the utmost attention‌ to food and‍ lodging. There must‌ be no shortcomings‌⁠ in the treatment‌‌ of the guests.”‍

“Yes,‌ Your Excellency.”

“If‍ the budget proves‍ insufficient, inform me‌⁠ at any time.‌‍ I will pay‍‍ even out of⁠‍ my own pocket.‌ And even if‍⁠ unforeseen additional expenses‍‌ arise, I will‍‌ not blame anyone‌ for it, so‍ be at ease.”‌‌

“We⁠ are grateful for⁠⁠ Your Excellency’s benevolence!”‍⁠

The treasurer, who had‌‍ been breaking out‌ in a cold‌⁠ sweat, bowed deeply‍ with a brightened‌ expression.

Considering‍‍⁠ the fame of‌ the Swordmaster, it‌‍‌ was obvious that‌ merely attending to‌‍ the mourners would‍ consume an enormous⁠ amount of resources.⁠‌

In‍ the worst case,‌‌ they might even⁠ cut off his⁠⁠ head on accusations‍ of embezzlement of‍ the budget.

Lucian had anticipated that⁠ concern and reassured⁠ him in advance,‌ something that deeply‍‌‌ moved the treasurer‌‌ due to its‌ meticulous consideration.

“Furthermore,‌⁠‌ I wish to⁠‌ offer at Sir‍⁠ Eisen’s grave a sword forged from‌‌ fairy metal. It⁠ is said that‍ fairies can cross‍ the boundary between‌⁠ this world and‌‍ the next, and that fairy metal‍ was created by‍⁠ them. With this,⁠ I hope that⁠ our respect for‍‍ him will reach⁠ the other world‍‍ as well.”

“That…⁠‌ the meaning is truly admirable, but…”‍

“I‍‍ know well that⁠ there are no⁠ blacksmiths in Asagrim‌‍ capable of working⁠ fairy metal. That‌‍ is why I will organize a competition to find⁠⁠‌ someone who can⁠ refine it. If⁠ even one manages‌‍⁠ to complete a decent sword, I will personally praise‍ them and grant⁠‍ a generous reward.”⁠

Of⁠⁠‍ course, the legend‍‍ of fairy metal‌⁠ was nothing more‌‍‌ than a pretext.⁠⁠

The⁠‍ true objective was‍‌ to find a blacksmith capable of‍ working one of⁠‌⁠ the ancient ingots‍ that were part⁠ of the legacy‍ of the old‌ northern kingdom.

Whether⁠‌‍ through techniques passed‍ down from generation‍ to generation or‍ thanks to their‌‌‌ own instinct, for‌ Lucian either option‌ was favorable.

In‍‍ the former case,‌ he would save the effort of‌⁠‍ rediscovering forging methods;‍ in the latter,‍ it would mean‌ having found a genius comparable to⁠⁠‍ Ian.

Suddenly,‍ Lucian realized what⁠ he was thinking⁠ and drew a bitter smile.

‘It‍ looks like I’m‌ using Sir Eisen’s death.’

Eisen⁠⁠ had helped Lucian‍‌‍ in countless ways⁠ during his life,‍ and now Lucian‍⁠ was using his⁠ funeral as a stage to attract‍‍ the talent he⁠‌ needed.

Although‌ he felt a certain bitterness upon⁠ realizing this, he⁠‌⁠ composed himself.

Eisen⁠ had always valued‍⁠ practicality many times‌⁠ more than ostentation.

Even‍‌ in the afterlife,‍‍ he would be‌ someone who would‌‍ care more about‍ whether his funeral‌ helped others than‍‌ about how grand⁠⁠ it had been.‌‍

And,‍⁠⁠ moreover, in the‍ end he had‌ even left words‌‍ encouraging Lucian’s ambition.

‘I’m sorry, but since‍ you’ve departed to⁠ the heavens, please‌‌‌ allow me to‌⁠⁠ benefit a little.‍ You supported me‌‌ so much that⁠‌‍ I don’t think you’d reproach me‌‌ for something so minor, right?’

Staring‌ into the void,‌ Lucian murmured that brazen thought to⁠‌ himself.

There‍ was no response,‍⁠ of course, but‌⁠ from somewhere far‌ away a gentle‍ breeze blew.

The‍ sound of the‍ wind resembled very‍‍ closely the simple,‍ frank laughter of‍‌ someone he had‍ heard many times in the past.⁠⁠⁠

***‍

The‌ death of Swordmaster‌‌ Eisen caused an‌‍ enormous impact on‍ public opinion, but‌‍‌ it also brought⁠⁠ with it an‌‌ unexpected positive effect.‌‍

Security,‌‍ which had deteriorated⁠ severely, stabilized notably,⁠⁠ even if only‌‌‌ temporarily.

This‌ was all because‌ the knights, immersed⁠⁠ in mourning, declared⁠‍ that they would‍‌ tolerate no disturbances⁠ during the funeral⁠‌ period.

— The great Swordmaster⁠⁠‌ has been welcomed into the bosom‍‍ of the Eight‍‍ Gods. While we mourn him, we‌ will forgive no⁠ one who causes‌‍ trouble in pursuit⁠ of petty gains.⁠⁠

Seen‍ one way, it⁠ was nothing more‍⁠‍ than an outpouring‍⁠ of frustration from⁠‍ knights whose nerves‍ were on edge⁠ after the death⁠ of their idol.⁠‍⁠

But⁠‍ it was not‍⁠ one or two‍‍‍ of them, but‍‌ all the knights of the Empire.

When‌‌‌ that happened, the‌ story changed completely.‌⁠

In⁠ any region, it⁠‌⁠ was enough for‌⁠‌ a thief to‍‌ appear for them⁠ to end up torn apart by enraged knights, so‌ any bandit with‍ a bit of sense had no‍⁠ choice but to⁠ hide.

The‍ same happened to‍⁠‍ the territorial lords.‍ While the entire‍⁠‌ Empire mourned the‍ Swordmaster, who would‌ dare to stir up trouble alone‍‌‍ to gain an‍‌ advantage?

Not only would they‌‌‌ instantly lose all‍⁠ the reputation they‌ had accumulated, but‌ no talent would‍ ever want to‌‍ place themselves under⁠⁠ their command.

— Until the Swordmaster’s‌ funeral ends, a truce!

That⁠‌ tacit agreement spread‌‌ naturally among all⁠‍ factions, and the Empire, albeit only‍‌ for a brief⁠⁠‌ interval, regained its‌ former peace.

Thanks⁠⁠ to this, those⁠ who benefited the⁠ most were the‍‌ numerous mourners and‌ blacksmiths heading to‍ Asagrim.

With‌ bandits gone and‍ war halted, the‍ roads became safe.‍‍

Thus,‍ even people who⁠‍ under other circumstances‍⁠ would have suffered⁠ mishaps during the journey managed to⁠⁠ arrive in Asagrim‍‍ safe and sound.⁠⁠

Malcolm⁠‌‌ and his son,⁠‍ who had just‌⁠⁠ crossed the city‍ gates, were among‌⁠⁠ those fortunate ones.⁠

“At⁠ last, we’ve arrived.”⁠

Malcolm‌‍ murmured in a voice laden with‌ fatigue.

Normally‍ he tried not‍ to show weakness, but for an‌‍⁠ aging body, such‍⁠‌ a long journey was no small‌ matter.

Fortunately, his son, still⁠⁠⁠ young, could support‌‍‍ his father while⁠ at the same‌ time calmly observing‍ the situation.

“Father,‌ let’s look for⁠‍⁠ an inn first. From what I can see, if‌‍ we let our‌⁠ guard down, we’ll‍‍ end up sleeping‍‍‌ in a makeshift⁠ tent.”

“You’re‍ right.”

Both‍ recalled the scene⁠ they had seen‌ upon entering the‌⁠ city gates—tents erected⁠‌ as temporary lodgings‌ to accommodate the‌ flood of visitors‌ and roads opened‌⁠ to transport supplies.

Since‌ there was still⁠ quite a bit‌⁠ of free space,‍ it seemed that⁠‍⁠ these were preparations for those who‌ would arrive later.⁠

However,‍ considering the Swordmaster’s‌ fame, even at⁠‍ that moment the‍ number of visitors‌⁠ must have been‍‌⁠ growing at an‍ alarming pace.

If⁠ they relaxed just‍⁠‌ because they had‌‍ arrived early, a difference of only‌ a few hours‍⁠ would be enough‍ to end up‍‍⁠ sleeping in a tent instead of‍‌ an inn.

“The⁠ problem is the‍ money. What we⁠‌ have left is‍ just barely enough.”‌‌

Malcolm said with a furrowed brow.

“Huh?⁠⁠ Isn’t it enough?”

“It would be if prices were the⁠⁠ usual ones.”

“Ah…”⁠

His‍ son finally realized.⁠⁠ Where many people‌ gather, supplies become‌‌ scarce and prices‌‍ rise.

And‌⁠‍ in a time‍ with such a concentration of people,‍⁠ inflation was inevitable.‌

“If we’re not careful,⁠ we might get⁠‍ a room but‌ be kicked out⁠‌⁠ halfway through our⁠ stay for not‍‌‍ being able to‍‌ pay.”

“But⁠‌ you can’t sleep⁠ in a poorly‌⁠ prepared tent. You’re about to try‌ to put into‍⁠ practice techniques you’ve‌ only seen in‌ books, and if⁠ on top of‌ that your physical condition worsens…”

Malcolm⁠⁠ fell silent with‌ a stiff expression.‌‍⁠

Just‌⁠ as his son‍‌⁠ said, the forging⁠⁠ methods he intended⁠⁠⁠ to try were ones he only‌ knew from texts.⁠‌‌

To‌ reduce the chances⁠ of failure, he‍‍ needed to be‍‌ in the best‌⁠ possible condition.

‘If‌ I add an uncomfortable night to‍⁠‍ this old, tired body, will I be able to perform on the‌ day of forging?’‍⁠

A sigh escaped his⁠‌ lips. He had‍⁠ arrived in Asagrim,⁠ but now he‌‍⁠ had to worry‍ about where to‌ sleep.

At⁠‍ that moment, a familiar voice reached⁠ Malcolm’s ears.

“If⁠‍ money is the‍ problem, how about⁠‌⁠ sharing a room⁠‍‌ with us?”

“…!”‌‌‌

Father‍ and son turned‍ in surprise toward‌‌ the source of⁠ the voice.

There‍ was Vincent, the knight who had⁠‍‍ previously saved them‌‍⁠ from the bandits.‍

Vincent⁠‍ shrugged with a smile.

“Good‌ to see you.⁠⁠ Was the journey‍ peaceful?”

***

“Huff,‌ we’ve been saved.⁠‍ To be honest,⁠ our budget was‍ tight as well,⁠ and we barely managed to secure‍‍‌ a room for three people.”

Vincent‌ said with a relieved expression after‌ making the reservation‌ together with Malcolm⁠⁠ and his son.

Vincent’s‌ group consisted of⁠⁠ four people, but⁠ single and double‌‍‍ rooms were too‌‍ expensive, and triple‍‍‍ rooms did not‍⁠⁠ work out well.‌‌⁠

Just‍‍ then Malcolm arrived‍‌ with his son,‍‌ which allowed them‌ to take two triple rooms and‌⁠ split the costs.‍

“We‍‍‌ almost ended up‌⁠ with four men‍‌ in a single‍ triple room. Thanks‌‍‍ to you, we‍ were spared that‌ ordeal.”

“I’m‌‍ glad to have⁠ been of help.”‌⁠‍

Malcolm‌⁠ replied, though he‌‌ could not help feeling uncomfortable.

No‍⁠‍ matter how much⁠‌ of a wanderer‍‍‌ that knight was,‌ sharing lodging with‌‌⁠ someone of noble⁠ rank was unpleasant⁠‌ for a commoner‍‍ like him.

‘But‌‍⁠ if I reject‌‌ his goodwill, I might offend him, and besides, I’ve‌‍ finally found a place to rest‌⁠ my body. There’s‌‍ no alternative.’

Resigned,‌⁠ Malcolm decided to‌ look at it from the bright side, and a doubt soon arose in his mind.‌‍

“Now that I think‌ about it, how⁠‌ did you arrive before us? Did‌⁠⁠ you intend to⁠‍ come to Asagrim‌⁠ from the beginning?”‌‍

“No,⁠‍⁠ not at all.‍‌‌ I hurried here‍ after hearing the⁠⁠⁠ news of Sir‍‌‍ Eisen’s death. I simply had a horse, so I arrived before you.”‍

“A⁠‌ warhorse?”

His‌ son asked with‍‍‌ eyes opened wide.‌⁠

Warhorses⁠‌ were so expensive‌ that it was⁠ difficult for a knight from an‌⁠‍ insignificant family to‌⁠ own one.

And⁠ that wandering knight,‍⁠ who from their⁠ first meeting had‍ said he had‍ no money, turned out to have one.

“I‍‌ think you’re mistaken.‍‍‍ Not all knights‌‌ with warhorses are⁠ wealthy, and we‌ least of all.‌ In fact, we’re‍‍ considering selling them‌⁠ because we can’t⁠‌ afford the upkeep.”‌‍

Vincent‍‌ replied sincerely.

It was not a horse he had⁠‍‍ owned from the⁠ beginning, but one‌ he had received⁠‌ for a mission‌‌⁠ and fled with‌ as it was.⁠‌

Moreover,‌⁠‌ he had left⁠⁠‍ all his money behind and only took the horses, so the upkeep‍‍‍ was unsustainable.

They‍‍‌ barely had enough to eat, and‌‌ on top of‌‌‍ that they had‌ to feed the⁠‍‍ horses; for the‍‍‍ former members of the Black Lions,‍ it was a desperate situation.

Even‌ so, they could‍‌ not sell them‌‍‍ because of Jordi and the chaos‌‍‌ of the world.‍

Whether‍⁠⁠ to flee from⁠ pursuers sent by‌‍ him or from‍⁠ a band of⁠ bandits, they needed‍‍ at least some⁠ means of escape.‌

‘But‌⁠ this is already⁠ the limit. If⁠ we don’t manage⁠‌ to enter the⁠‍ duke’s service, I’ll⁠⁠‍ have to sell‍ them and trade them for ponies, or simply go⁠‍ on foot. At‌ this rate, we really will end‌ up starving to‍ death.’

If‍ they sold the⁠‍‍ four warhorses, they⁠ would obtain a considerable sum with‌⁠‍ which they could‌ survive for a while.

Even‍‌ so, that would‍ not change the‍‌‍ fact that the‌ future remained uncertain.‌‍⁠

“By⁠ the way, what‌ brings you here?‌ At first glance,‍‍ you look like‍ blacksmiths. Did you⁠‍ come to see the fairy metal?”⁠‍

“That’s‍‌ right. If we’re⁠ talking about a legendary metal, for‍ a blacksmith it’s⁠ a treasure that must be seen‌ at least once.”‍

“No⁠‍ matter how valuable⁠⁠‌ it is, if⁠ it can’t be‍‌ refined, it’s nothing‌ more than a simple rock.”

“Turning‍‍ a rock into‌‌‌ a true treasure‍‍ is the stubbornness‍‌ of a craftsman.⁠⁠ Famous swords are‍ born after countless‌⁠ failures.”

“Oh.”‍

Vincent’s‌⁠ eyes shone.

Not‌ because he had‌‍ been moved by Malcolm’s craftsman spirit, but because he⁠‌ had seen how⁠‍‍ the son, who⁠⁠‌ was behind him,‌‌ shuddered slightly at⁠⁠ his words.