After wandering around what could be called the tourist spots in town, we ended up having lunch at a few favored taverns.
This place was a rare establishment, being run by someone originally from the Imperial Capital in the far west, offering refined dishes that occasionally made me nostalgic.
The impression of the same dish can change drastically based solely on seasoning. Particularly with sausages, the flavor varies entirely depending on the type of wood used for smoking. Having lived there for a while, my palate must have memorized the taste.
“Marsheim is quite interesting, isn’t it? While the exterior architecture might be styled after the empire, there’s a blend of foreign influences that makes it quite intriguing.”
Mika, who had been industriously jotting down notes, spoke while disassembling her lunch with a knife. Having mentioned that she would treat us today, she had ordered a slightly pricier meatball dish. The meatballs here were in the style of the Imperial Capital—made without fillers such as offal, making them more expensive but possessing a straightforward deliciousness without the distinct flavor of internal organs.
Meat is indeed good. It gives vitality to life.
“Even the way bricks are stacked varies greatly—ranging from the Imperial style, Kingdom style, Island style, to the Southern style, and even some quirky local methods. In the Imperial Capital, such irregularities would be corrected by bureaucracy in no time.”
“This is the end of the world, though; there’s no time to nitpick about standardizing bricks. If it holds up and provides shelter, that’s good enough… that’s how country life works.”
As my friend enthusiastically spoke, she went on to elaborate, mentioning roof tilings and foundations—knowledge that went over my head as an outsider. About all I gathered was that people here lived pretty casually.
Still, Marsheim isn’t a tourist city. They’d likely have preferred to allocate their budget to fortifying their grand city walls instead. Beautiful cities may look strong before war, but when it comes to actual combat, such appearances provide little advantage.
In contrast to my satisfied and knowledge-hungry friend who had enjoyed the good meal and sightseeing, there was a man who looked completely dissatisfied, even though he was eating delicious meat at someone else’s expense.
He was chewing on a piece of pork so thick it was difficult to ask for anything simpler—this must be their version of tonkatsu—while Siegfried’s expression remained sour.
I understood what he wanted to say; he was dissatisfied with the negotiations at the guild. Even as a member of a generally understanding team, it’s someone I shouldn’t take lightly. It’s probably time we had a talk. After all, a mystery plot without a twist is as bad as it gets.
“Are you dissatisfied?”
“Yeah, I’m dissatisfied,” the old war buddy openly threw his meat fork onto the plate. If Lady Kaya were here, she’d gently chide him, but this isn’t the place for me to intervene or take it personally, so it’s fine.
“Why didn’t you push the issue back there? We could’ve gotten more out of them! Heads should’ve bowed because of all those people who died due to their sloppiness! Isn’t that the right way?”
“And you, too, suffered greatly from their poor work… I understand that, indeed. Ah, excuse me, can we have some black tea for all of us?”
As I asked a nearby server for tea after the meal, I pulled out my pipe, filling it with tobacco. Today’s selection was something to help calm the mind and aid in the recovery of magical energy. Though not directly inhaled, the scent was effective enough for the occasion.
“Let’s see… We could have pressed the guild further and twisted the situation deeper this time. After all, we had three strong cards.”
One of them, of course, was the guild’s negligence. Whether the job had been dumped on them by the administration or mediated by some intermediary, it was the guild’s responsibility to investigate the nature of the work. Even if it involved political considerations and the true purpose of the job was hidden, they had, on the surface, an obligation to thoroughly examine it.
The negligence weighs even more heavily because of the casualties. Regardless of how aware adventurers may be of dangerous jobs, it’s a different matter when they are injured due to someone else’s mistakes. Even if the victims weren’t members of our house but just extra faces, it still wasn’t preferable to have fatalities in that role.
Thankfully, no one has died. That’s good.
But it’s not something you can dismiss with casual comments. If a steel beam falls because of shoddy work, but no one’s crushed underneath, it doesn’t mean everything’s fine, right?
If something were to happen to Siegfried, one of our key members, we’d have every right to call them out on it.
The second card involves contacts we have back in the Imperial Capital. If they come at us politically, we can retaliate by pulling in politically savvy outlaws.
“What’s the point of bending them over if we can’t do much with it?”
“Point!?”
At my words, Siegfried lost his cool, slammed the table, and stood up in anger. His face turned red from rage, and a hand that swiftly reached out grabbed my collar. I could have avoided it, but I chose to accept it since I could understand why he was mad.
“What point is there talking about points when people have died over here?! What kind of points even exist in this kind of situation, you piece of crap!? Tell me, what kind of points are worth someone else bowing their head for all this trouble, huh?”
Ah, the textbook move of the justice-driven, impassioned protagonist. It’s something I can’t pull off, and to be honest, it’s somewhat embarrassing, but I respect it. Yes, I completely understand why my actions seem cheap and villainous at this point, and why it might make one angry.
But calm down, Siegfried. You’ve startled the server bringing the black tea pot so much that they’ve dropped the tray.
“Can you let go? The people around us are alarmed… Excuse me, could you bring another pot? This is for the broken dishes, please apologize on our behalf to the owner.”
The trembling server—a man who clearly looked like an adventurer, with a dramatic facial scar—had reacted naturally to Siegfried’s anger. I gestured him over, handed him two silver coins, and whispered in his ear that one of them was an apology and he should take it secretly.
As the server hurriedly left, I took a puff of smoke and explained the third card to Siegfried, who was still standing.
The third card is that I’ve managed to roughly figure out the gist of this entire situation.
To my credit, my ears are pretty sharp, and I hear things from all kinds of sources.
Among the various clans of adventurers, those not typically labeled as dangerous, I have steady relationships with. The Sword Friends Association allows for multi-affiliation, so some participate not as adventurers, but as enthusiasts of martial arts. This way, I hear various things from them about clan affairs.
The Lorans clan in particular, known for specializing in perilous jobs, shares almost a coalition-like link with us. We host a drinking gathering twice a month under the guise of an exchange meeting, and we’ve occasionally partnered in large-scale caravan protection. Those times, nobody dared to mess with us, and even toll gates without proper authorization quietly withdrew, making the job almost too easy.
Moreover, through various connections like the maintenance of weapons and armor, or the courtyard arrangements at the Silver Snow wolf tavern, I have links with the craftsmen’s guild, which bring in all sorts of stories as casual conversation.
From those diverse connections, I had heard that lately there have been many orders and transport escorts for construction materials.
To mid-sized cities that gather resources, and then transport them near the border, it seems.
“Most likely, the Baron of Marsheim is trying to resolve the long-standing unrest.”
I blew out some smoke and used the far-sight magic to scan the surroundings. Though there were people who had turned to look after being startled by the commotion, no one appeared to be eavesdropping. Additionally, there was no sign of any eavesdropping spells either.
No, if someone was using magic to spy, Mika would sense it. Unlike me, who is a half-hearted magic swordsman, Mika is quite skilled as a professional.
At any rate, there aren’t many reasons for quietly gathering strategic materials like construction supplies near the border.
They’re trying it again. The legend of the overnight castle.
Seeing as it could incite unnecessary attention, I pulled out a notebook from my pocket and started scribbling with a piece of charcoal.
The Excellency of the Frontier Baron may think as follows:
The main reason unruly landlords continue to dominate within the Marsheim domain lies in the fact that the territory boundaries are not clearly defined, and the cross-border access is far too easy.
The border areas I visited on several occasions were, frankly, not heavily fortified. The repeated cycles of war, conquest, and retreat have left scattered castles, forts, and farming manors, but the collaboration among the various defense points becomes difficult due to the distance, and even patrol officers can’t cover the gaps.
The Baron likely intends to seal these gaps.
That is, to build defensive lines which will define the domestic territories while simultaneously restraining landlords secretly operating close to the border.
Gather resources in the local cities to construct a rough framework and swiftly transport them to build supporting castles. Repeat this process in quick succession to prevent the creation of any defensive networks and construct interconnected positions. Then deploy scouts and lookouts later to closely monitor the movements within the domain.
There are already a few defense posts and fortresses built with the original aim of preparing for foreign wars. By linking those existing points with new ones, a line is formed, establishing an outward appearance that it aims to prevent smuggling.
As a concern—how will they gather manpower and resources? However, there is not much suffering in this remote area that benefits anyone, so it won’t be difficult to recruit help. By dangling the promise of profit and using the banner of the Imperial alliance, they can draw in allies and pull multiple cards.
The current Emperor comes from the domestic policy-obsessed family of Erlstraych. If this can stabilize the western regions, they’ll flood it with unlimited budgets. Preparing for war would also mean that the Graflock family would not reject, but rather eagerly cooperate.
It goes without saying that the side branch of the Baden house would already be aware and likely already moving, so it doesn’t make sense for them to oppose now.
In other words, the country is coming together to solidify its local regions. No gaps, no weak points. It’s a system driven by overwhelming power, which cannot be ignored.
Getting involved carelessly in this could lead to unexpected consequences. For us, mere cogs in the machine, to be crushed between the massive gears is a real possibility.
Oh, and there’s a sinister bonus.
The quietly escorted noble children of unknown renown… this is more prophecy than speculation, but their proclaimed origins may not be genuine.
There’s a high likelihood they stem from subjugated lineages suppressed by local dissenters.
It may be possible that the offspring presented as coming from the Mars-Baden lineage is merely a cover-up, or maybe it’s the progeny of a powerful landlord who has been hidden carefully over the generations.
History occasionally presents such scenarios: children of the main line hidden by loyal followers, waiting until the opportune moment to remain inconspicuous in unimportant positions while laying low.
Either way, this girl should be considered a key to the stabilization of the region alongside the construction of the defensive lines.
Not moving her ostentatiously might be for the purpose of misdirection. If it’s obvious, there’s a chance that the landholding factions might throw everything into retrieving their banner leader.
Or possibly, without our knowledge, there are multiple decoys moving. Many false targets might be set to ensure all are ambushed while their identities are unclear…
Let’s stop speculating here, there’s no limit. A god-like existence couldn’t comprehend all the circumstances anyway, so this level of speculation is more than enough.
All we really need to understand is that it’s better not to get involved with the immense forces in play.
Upon reading what I wrote, Siegfried’s face went pale, he thought for a moment, then discarded the ominous assumptions, crumpled the note, and washed it down his throat with black tea.
This itself is one of the characteristics of adventurers. Some items entrusted to them are meant to be discarded when they’re seen by others, and anything written, no matter how poorly, can never be restored once turned to excrement—it’s the supreme method of concealment.
“Being able to foresee the situation does give us strength. We could have gained more benefits using the information about this unknown young lady… However, I don’t want to end up like a greedy mosquito that can’t fly after feeding too much. We’ve gained something far more valuable than an apology. If we can get additional rewards or compensation for our labor, it’s better to accept them and stop.”
“…I see.”
“Yes. If we’re too greedy, we could be roped into something deeper and lose the ability to retreat.”
The fact that he tried to stop me from leaving is a good sign that they were probably plotting to pull us deeper in. Once involved, they might have wanted to drain us into a quagmire.
Though it sounds self-congratulatory, we are quite valuable pawns. Not as grand as dragon knights, but we could be considered experienced, versatile pieces that with the right player like a night watchman, can effectively control the game.
But we certainly shouldn’t be used and disposed of like pawns.
That was our exit point. We’ve warned the guild against underestimating us, accepted their apology, and distanced ourselves from a project that smells of political influence. Greed would only lead to getting stuck in an endless and exhausting swamp.
“I’ll tell their families to send over the compensation for the adventurers who died. I assume you know them, don’t you?”
“…Yeah, more or less.”
Siegfried has good care for his acquaintances. Even for brief encounters, his cheerful personality allows him to form friendships, where he learns the names and places of origin.
He regrets deeply that time he had to unwillingly bury unidentified adventurers and leave the site without knowing them. That bitter feeling of not being able to deliver even a lock of hair to their families remains with him, and I know he still keeps such items locked away in his room.
Everyone understands that it’s sad to be forgotten and fade away quietly.
“If you need a hand with the formalities, I can provide high-quality paper or even ghostwrite letters for you.”
“…Understood.”
He seemed to have much to say, but swallowed it all down and instead reached for his now-cold black tea.
“Sorry for grabbing your collar. I get it. I know how pointless it is to get involved in noble matters, and how empty the guild’s apology might be… But still, still…”
“Apologizing isn’t necessary, Siegfried. That’s your virtue. I don’t hold any grudge.”
Saying that, my friend quietly sipped the tea.
Ah, I truly am fortunate in my friends.
To have a comrade who will get angry on my behalf, someone with whom my back is entrusted…
And a dear friend who thoughtfully remained silent and listened to our exchange, with concern for our relationship.
Though the world is a dirty place, it’s not entirely without hope.
“Well, where should we go next this afternoon?”
We’ve escaped the dire situation. We cannot afford to let down our guard, but for now, shouldn’t we celebrate it?
—
(Note: The promotional notes and tips at the end have been intentionally omitted from the translation for relevance to the story.)
