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A Mercenary’s Rebirth Among Nobles Chapter 72

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.”

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