Chapter 72

“First of all, wouldn’t it be better to treat your wounds? From what I can see, you look pretty hurt.”

Lucian’s gaze turned to the numerous slashing wounds covering the upper half of Harald’s body.

There were no serious injuries, but there were so many small wounds that leaving them untreated didn’t seem like a good idea.

“I’d like to say a bit of spit would do, but this is no time for boasting. Before causing more trouble for others, I’d better apply at least a little medicine.”

“Instead of spit, use this. The effect will be much better.”

When Lucian pulled out a red potion, Harald flinched in surprise.

“Huh? A potion? Something that valuable?”

Faced with a more exaggerated reaction than expected, Lucian was left speechless.

Sure, potions were expensive, but not to the point that a baron would react like that.

“Heh, are you that surprised by a potion? It’s not something so rare.”

While Harald examined the potion curiously, Torik interrupted the conversation.

In his eyes was the same mocking look a city dweller gives a peasant.

“It might be a bit pricey, but for a baron it’s something anyone can buy. And yet my father reacts like that… Kugh!”

Smack!

“Shut your mouth! Who do you think you are to be rambling like that as a prisoner?”

A groan escaped Torik’s lips after the slap.

The blow was so hard the sound of skin splitting could be heard.

“And even if they’re easy to get in other regions, what does that matter? Even a drop of plain water is worth a fortune in the desert, and a piece of bread is a feast for someone who hasn’t eaten in three days…”

Harald cut himself off mid-reprimand and shook his head. There was a trace of bitterness in his expression, as if he thought it wasn’t worth trying to teach anything anymore.

Especially when Torik didn’t seem to be listening anyway.

“Sorry. That was embarrassing.”

“It’s fine. Tend to your wounds first.”

“Then I won’t hold back.”

Harald carefully opened the vial and applied the potion to every corner of his wounds.

Watching that massive man take care not to waste a single drop almost made Lucian burst out laughing.

‘I thought he’d just splash it on, but he’s acting like a nervous bride. I guess it really is that precious.’

“Hmm, it worked wonders. I’ll repay you for this later, without fail.”

Harald shook the bottle several times, as if trying to squeeze out every last drop, and only then handed it back to Lucian.

After putting away the vial and confirming the potion was taking effect, Lucian spoke.

“And now, what do you plan to do?”

“My territory is not far from here. Let’s go there. With all this commotion, I won’t be able to give you a proper welcome, but at least I won’t fail to host you decently.”

“Are you sure? There might be accomplices to the rebellion.”

“Even if there were, by now it would all be settled.”

The vague answer made Lucian tilt his head in doubt, but he decided not to ask more.

If someone who had ruled his territory for so many years spoke with that much confidence, he must have had some basis.

***

After walking for half a day, the territory Harald had mentioned appeared. Although it wasn’t very large, the walls built around it were as solid as Kelheim’s.

“It’s an impressive fortress. It looks capable of withstanding even a great war.”

“Spare me the empty compliments. I know better than anyone that it’s a fortress disproportionate to my rank.”

“…”

Lucian closed his mouth, unable to refute it. Indeed, the castle seemed too elaborate for the size of the territory.

Unless it belonged to a high-ranking noble with abundant resources or a border region that needed to prepare for emergencies, building something like that in a simple barony was, honestly, a waste.

“Well, we had our reasons. I’ll explain when we’re inside.”

“All right.”

As the group approached the castle gate, they could make out rounded shapes hanging from the walls. A moment later, Torik’s eyes widened when he realized they were human heads.

“H-how is this possible…?”

“I figured. They really are a bunch of fools.”

Ignoring Torik’s babbling, Harald clicked his tongue.

Judging by the situation, the heads belonged to Torik’s co-conspirators.

“What did you expect? Did you really think those guys would take the castle and come to rescue you? Did you think that little of northern men?”

“…”

Torik didn’t answer and lowered his head, eyes dim. Clearly, they had been his last hope.

When they finally reached the castle gate—

“Halt! Who are you—B-barón!?”

“Yes, it’s me. I brought the traitors, so open the gate.”

“Y-yes! What are you doing!? Open it at once!”

Rrum!

The guards opened the gate without asking Lucian’s group a single question.

When Harald entered at the front, those who recognized him erupted in cries of astonishment from all directions.

“Barón!? It’s the barón!”

“The lord has returned!”

The townspeople crowded en masse around Harald. Seeing the bloodstained tools they held, Lucian’s group tensed, but no one tried to stop them.

On the contrary, Harald stopped the group from drawing their swords and allowed the townspeople to approach freely.

“My lord, are you safe!?”

“Can’t you see? I, Harald, am not someone who would die here.”

“Come quickly! You must treat those wounds immediately!”

“I already used medicine everywhere, so don’t worry. Besides, it worked wonderfully.”

Harald responded to the townspeople one by one, laughing heartily.

Faced with such a strange scene, Lucian was speechless. It seemed more like the return of a respected tribal chief than a feudal lord.

‘By imperial law, it wouldn’t be strange for anyone approaching a noble without reason to be executed on the spot…’

“Surprised? In the north, scenes like this aren’t so rare.”

Raymond whispered with a smile to the group, who were still frozen in shock. Hearing him, Felicia, still in disbelief, spoke with difficulty.

“W-what is this? No matter how you look at it… a commoner… not even a knight… treating a noble like this…”

“It’s because of how harsh the north is. This damn cold, the constant civil wars, and even the monsters lurking in the snowy mountains. Here, if everyone doesn’t band together, survival is impossible—so the townsfolk have no choice but to take up arms.”

“I see. So practically all the townspeople are like a semi-permanent army.”

“Exactly. With the difference that they don’t get any special pay.”

One of the pillars of a lord’s absolute authority is protecting the safety of their people.

In other words, if the people pay the price with their own blood, that authority is no longer so absolute.

If the lord had abandoned his duties out of cowardice, he would have been overthrown long ago.

But here, even lacking resources, the lord still fulfilled his responsibilities and only called upon the people’s help when absolutely necessary.

In that way, the people understood the burden the lord carried, and the lord understood the hardships of the people.

‘And that’s where this relationship comes from?’

It was somewhat ironic. In the comfortable inland regions, the inhabitants were ruled with ironclad laws, while in the harsh north, such a close and barrier-free relationship existed.

After chatting for a while with the concerned townspeople, Baron Harald spoke in a serious tone.

“The rebellion has been quelled. It was a crisis, but thanks to these distinguished guests, we somehow overcame it. I’d like to take them to the castle and treat them as they deserve, but…”

“Uh… well…”

At the baron’s words, the townspeople looked at each other with awkward expressions. Noticing the strange atmosphere, Harald frowned.

“What happened at the lord’s residence?”

“W-well, the rebels barricaded themselves there, and during the suppression… it got a bit damaged.”

“The bodies have mostly been removed, but the blood is still there, and the smell is kind of…”

“I see…”

Harald brought a hand to his forehead, as if he had a headache.

Perhaps if it were only some damage, it could be overlooked, but receiving guests in a place where not even the bloodstains had been cleaned would be disrespectful.

“There’s no helping it. Would you mind if I invited you somewhere else?”

“Where, if not the lord’s residence?”

At Lucian’s question, Harald smiled broadly.

“To a place where the liquor is excellent.”

***

“Kheeer! This is amazing!”

Thud.

Harald slammed the enormous beer mug down on the table and wiped his lips.

It was behavior that not only lacked decorum, but seemed to have thrown noble dignity entirely out the window.

Noticing Lucian’s group falling silent, Harald gave a lopsided smile.

“What’s wrong? Too undignified for a noble?”

“If I’m honest, yes.”

“Hmm.”

At Lucian’s blunt answer, Harald closed his mouth. He didn’t say it out loud, but he seemed slightly disappointed. After a moment, Lucian smiled and added.

“But that’s exactly why I like it. Dignity is something to be displayed where it belongs. Trying to show off ranks in an inn just makes everyone uncomfortable.”

“Oh, you sure know how to talk.”

Harald clicked his tongue at Lucian’s eloquence.

As he said, he and Lucian had rented out the entire second floor of a common inn.

To many nobles, it would be an uncomfortable and dirty place, but to Lucian, it was simply familiar—even nostalgic.

Noticing that Lucian’s words weren’t mere flattery, a smile returned to Harald’s face.

“All right, young master Lucian. You said you came to reclaim the name of Grimaldi and punish the house of Count Calix. Do you have a plan?”

“Not yet. I don’t know the current situation in the north, so I decided to observe first and judge later.”

“Reckless. But also the right move. Without knowing the north, any plan you bring likely won’t work.”

“First of all, I’d like to hear about my maternal grandfather. He died when I was very young, so I never got to see him.”

“What was Duke Klaus like…?”

As if remembering old times, Harald stared off into the distance.

“He was a true son of the north.”

“So he was a warrior, like you?”

“No, not at all. He was the opposite—an utter weakling.”

“…What?”

The completely unexpected answer made Lucian ask without thinking. With someone like Harald, he had assumed he would only respect a born warrior.

“He was as skinny as a stick, without a trace of muscle. He often fainted during training and was constantly ill. And with alcohol, a single mug of beer would knock him out.”

Harald burst into laughter at Lucian’s stunned expression. After laughing heartily for a while, his smile faded and he closed his eyes.

“But he never avoided his duties. He said that even with a weak body, he had to possess a strength he wouldn’t be ashamed of, and kept training. Even when sick, his first concern was the people. When something happened, the first thing he grabbed was his armor.”

“…”

“He couldn’t knock anyone down with a punch, but everyone respected him. If some brute relying solely on strength dared to mock him, we’d all jump him at once and leave him a mess.”

In that voice full of nostalgia, Lucian was left speechless.

In such a cruel environment, it was normal for martial strength to be valued and for the weak to be looked down upon.

And yet, Harald deeply respected his grandfather, even while calling him weak.

“If he had wanted to unify the north, half the north would have followed him. The duke had that level of prestige.”

“That I would try to use the same method as my grandfather…”

“Is impossible.”

Harald replied without hesitation.

“He wasn’t a warrior, but he was a northerner. He was born in the north, raised here, and protected its values better than anyone. You are none of those things. Even if you try to imitate the northerners now, it would be nothing more than a poor copy.”

“Then, is there another method? I came to punish the house of Count Calix, but I don’t have a single ally in the north. If I act alone, without building any strength, my claims will be crushed just like that.”

“It’s not like there’s no method.”

At Lucian’s words, Harald smiled slyly.

“Northerners don’t reject outsiders just like that. If someone shows true valor, they not only respect him—they’re willing to revere him.”

“I don’t aim to be revered, but I’d like to hear what this method is.”

“It’s simple.”

Harald tensed his muscles, still marked by small wounds, and said.

“Defeat me.”