Chapter 96 - Watchman of the Barley Field (1)

In the dim gray dawn, before the darkness had fully lifted.

Joseph entered his office earlier than usual and drew back the curtains with practiced hands.

When the curtains were drawn, a familiar scene came into view.

A city blanketed in white snow.

At the sight of Soara, cold enough to chill him just by looking at it, Joseph folded his arms, took one step back, and gazed out the window.

"He should be leaving about now."

Anyone setting out on a journey would have to leave Soara around now to reach their next destination before sunset.

Though he had no idea where that destination might be.

"..."

He could have given Vlad a mission as he left, or arbitrarily chosen a destination for him, but Joseph deliberately did not.

Because he thought that a boy who had lived his whole life following other people's orders needed, at least once, the experience of moving according to his own thoughts.

"A knight who bears his own banner, a knight banneret... It has truly been a long time since such a sight was seen."

Though Vlad was leaving Soara in the form of exile, he would be recreating an old northern tradition.

A knight who set out on a journey bearing nothing but his own honor.

It was one of those old traditions that could only be found in his grandfather's generation, not even his father's.

Far in the distance, Soara's gates were opening to greet the day.

He could not see it from so far away, but right now, a knight bearing his own banner would be stepping out through those gates.

A knight Soara had held in its arms, and Bayezid had raised.

His name was Vlad of Soara.

* * *

"... She's not coming."

With his collar turned up to his neck, Vlad stood with Noir and watched the gates open.

In this cold winter, at a time when neither merchants nor travelers were on the move, Vlad was the only one waiting for the gates to open.

NEEEEIGH!

"You used to live outside in the first place. What are you whining about being cold for?"

Noir had already grown used to the all-too-comfortable stable, and perhaps did not like the current situation of stepping out into the cold, for he kept snorting, but now his good days were over too.

Now was the time to return to his roots and face the blizzard with composure.

And that attitude was something not only Noir, but Vlad as well, needed to remember.

"Let's go."

The black horse began moving forward at the small urging.

The little flag hanging behind the saddle began to flutter little by little in the cold wind.

"..."

As Vlad, mounted on Noir, stepped outside one pace at a time, he thought that perhaps this might be the right time to leave after all.

The city of Soara, where he had lived his whole life.

There had been goals he had dreamed of here.

The goal of taking up a sword, and the dream of becoming a knight.

But now that all the things he had dreamed of in this city had been achieved, it was time he needed a wider world if he was to look higher and move forward.

"Boss! Wait!"

Vlad, who had been recalling old memories, heard a voice calling him from behind and turned his head.

"Let's go together!"

A man came galloping down the dawn street amid the loud clatter of hooves.

It was Goethe, Bayezid's stable keeper.

"Whew. I just barely made it."

"You're late."

Vlad smiled without letting it show as he looked at Goethe, who was panting with his tongue out beside him.

"This much doesn't count as late. You haven't even left Soara yet, have you?"

Goethe might have been gasping for breath, but he was not negligent about answering.

It was truly an attitude befitting a former swindler.

"You actually decided to come along?"

"I felt wronged, you see."

Goethe puffed out his chest and spoke to Vlad in a confident voice.

"I've invested in you for a while now, Boss. I can't just let that all go to waste here, can I?"

Investment was always accompanied by risk.

Goethe, who had little stake to wager, had to take risks if he wanted to gain the sort of great profit that could turn his life around.

And Goethe also knew well that for bottom-feeders like him, even dangerous opportunities worth staking one's life on did not come easily.

"I heard you even bought a ship for some friend named Haven, didn't you? Will you take care of me that much later too?"

"Depends on what you do."

It was only his usual sullen answer, but Goethe merely nodded as if that was good enough.

Because he had already figured out that Vlad was not an honest man.

"So where are we going?"

At Goethe's question asking their destination, Vlad let out a long breath and looked at the white field stretching ahead of them.

"... I haven't decided exactly."

The Vlad of today had been made by two contracts.

One was Joseph's contract, in which Vlad had pledged his faith along with his sword.

And the other was his contract with the voice, in which he had promised to find its name.

"For now, I'm thinking of going east."

There was a world that the voice, now no longer heard, had shown him at the end.

A wide wheat field, and a single maple tree swaying with the quiet wind that blew over it.

And the voice had said it had seen that tree before.

"There's something I need to find there."

With his answer, Vlad raised the scabbard and looked at Alicia's amber set into the end of the hilt.

Now, only the remnants of the voice remained, so all he could see was a faint shadow, but even so, Vlad alone was the only one who could recognize the voice's last trace.

"Let's go now."

The knight who had shouldered an obligation left behind the one to whom he had sworn to offer his faith, and moved forward to keep another contract.

One swindler and one knight were leaving Soara.

Seeing them off were a wineglass held by a noble man, and a pillowcase dampened by the sorrow of parting from a red-haired girl.

* * *

Dobrechiti.

This place, located in the northern part of the central region, was land ruled by the Dalmatia Family, and it was a territory that mainly relied on barley farming and forestry, taking advantage of its cold climate.

"Again, again, again! Are you telling me this mess has happened again!"

And what did it mean that they mainly relied on barley farming and forestry?

"What the hell are those bastards who tear up the barley seeds as if they were waiting the moment we plant them!"

It meant that it was a poor territory without any particular industry to speak of.

And true to those circumstances, Dobrechiti was also an impoverished territory without a single city worth putting forward in its name.

"We stationed soldiers and had them stand guard all night, but somehow, by morning..."

"Do not spew excuses in front of me!"

The captain of the knights was drawing out the words to say they had failed.

Watching him, Baron Dalmatia could only fan himself repeatedly with his hand, as if heat was rising in him, and suppress his mounting anger.

"... You all know it too, don't you? If we cannot even sow at this time, we will all starve to death when spring comes."

"That is true, my lord."

"And knowing that, you still!"

Poor soil and a cold climate.

For Dobrechiti, which had nothing to rely on but the thickly packed trees and barley farming, this current disaster was not something that could simply be ignored and passed over.

"But with only the soldiers..."

"If you lack soldiers, then hand the people iron clubs or whatever else! We are about to starve to death right now, so does that matter!"

Baron Dalmatia's plump cheeks trembled as he began hurling whatever came to hand and berating the captain of the knights who had come to report.

Any lord who saw a knight unable to respond flexibly before an incident would have no choice but to get angry like that.

"Oh, my head..."

But what could he do?

The Dalmatia Family was a poor family that could gather only knights like these.

"Scrape together every soldier you have and every soldier you don't, and guard the barley fields! It must be the monsters in the forest doing this!"

"Understood, my lord."

Winter was not a season in which only humans went hungry.

Winter, when fruit on the trees and edible grass disappeared, was also a season when monsters ran out of food.

He did not know why they were choosing to eat only the seeds sown in the fields, but what mattered was that this situation had to be stopped.

"Do I have to hire mercenaries or something..."

In his empty office, Baron Dalmatia finally let out a sigh.

As Baron Dalmatia approached the window in frustration, a sight came into his eyes.

The forest of Dobrechiti, densely surrounding the territory.

It was a place he had expanded greatly for cultivation after becoming lord, but the forest, which had stood there since before the Dalmatia Family was founded, still seemed to hold darkness even in broad daylight.

* * *

"... Pepper, salt, jerky. What's this?"

"A pilgrim's certificate."

A dark forest where the sun had begun to set.

In that forest, Vlad was squatting and diligently rubbing sticks together, and he answered listlessly while looking at the paper Goethe had pulled out.

"You just have to go to any church and register. Priest Andreas wrote it for me."

"Why didn't you do it in Soara?"

At Goethe's question, Vlad's hands, which had been rubbing the sticks, came to a sudden stop.

"Ah, right. That's how it was. Sorry."

If he had submitted this certificate at the Church of Soara, there would have been no need to carry it all the way here, but the problem was that Vlad had become so hostile to the church that he could not dare exchange words with them.

"Yeah. I get it. Yeah. This one I understand."

Avoiding Vlad's sharp gaze, Goethe rummaged through the travel bag again, but when he still could not see the item he was looking for, he finally clenched his teeth.

"But how can you bring all these precious and expensive things without missing a single one, and somehow not bring one piece of flint? I just don't understand that."

"..."

At Goethe's angry words, Vlad's two hands, which had paused for a moment, began moving quickly again.

"... I was busy with one thing and another on the last night."

Of course he was busy.

The popular ones were always busier at night.

"You're one to talk. You only brought cheap flint yourself."

"At least I brought some!"

Goethe flew into a rage and pointed at the debris around Vlad.

The remnants of flint lay scattered around, shattered to pieces.

All of them were things Goethe had brought.

"Must be nice being strong. You went and broke them all."

Vlad was not so inexperienced that he could not light a single fire.

Rather, because he had lived harshly, one could say he was even more used to this sort of thing.

"Talk about rotten luck. Were all of them defective?"

But in the end, he had broken all the flints Goethe had brought, and he himself had failed to bring even a single flint, something essential for camping, so there was no way he could have anything to say.

Since it was clear to anyone whose fault it was, in a case like this, all he could do was sit quietly and try to kindle a flame.

"Shit."

"Why are you stopping? Aren't you going to make a fire?"

Goethe glared as Vlad suddenly threw away the sticks he had been rubbing, but Vlad had already picked up his scabbard instead of the sticks.

"Why, why all of a sudden?"

No matter how deep their relationship was, Vlad was a knight.

The aura of Vlad holding a sword had no choice but to be completely different from when he had been rubbing sticks a moment ago.

Goethe's trembling voice was proof of that.

"I'll rub them. Boss."

"No need."

Vlad spat roughly onto the snowy ground, quietly took up his scabbard, and rose to his feet.

"Boss, I'm sorry..."

"I'll borrow some fire."

At Vlad's sudden words, Goethe unconsciously began looking around.

A winter forest where darkness was beginning to settle.

From among the trees, the rustle of movement and the snickering of men could be heard.

"Well now, seems the young master has sharp ears."

"If you noticed us, you should've run off quick. What were you standing your ground for?"

Men who looked to number roughly twenty.

On a winter road, it was not only the cold and monsters one had to be careful of.

"A pretty-looking one like that would fetch a fair price no matter where we sold him."

"What family are you from, young master? If you tell us who your parents are, we might hand you over for a reasonable price."

A party moving with only two people.

One of them was a brat who looked as if he had only just shed his down, so in the eyes of the bandits, there could be no better prey.

"Gentlemen. Lend us some fire."

"Huh?"

However, far from being intimidated, the blond young man facing the bandits was only smiling brightly, as if this had worked out well.

"What the hell is this crazy bastard saying..."

The bandits raised their weapons with vicious energy and dumbfounded expressions, but when they saw what gleamed beneath Vlad's cloak, they fell silent.

Shining plate armor.

Something too burdensome for some mere brat to be wearing was there.

"Lend us some fire. And."

Of course, if he was a young master from a well-off family, he might be wearing it.

But to call him simply a thoughtless young master, the presence beginning to spread from his blue eyes was far from ordinary.

"Hand over everything you've got, you bastards."

A savage smile began forming on Vlad's face.

The Vlad of the past had been hungry, always yearning for something.

And now, the blond young man who had finally stepped out into the world was just as hungry as he had been when he was a boy.

"I'll cut your throats for you."

One thing he had resolved upon leaving Soara.

It was to return to his roots.