Using What He Learned

At Baron Bolten’s estate, they received a meal, as well as tea.

But it didn’t exactly feel like being treated as guests.

Rather, all these gestures felt like an urging to hurry and get to the point.

Clink.

Isaac set down his teacup.

The reason he’d come here was to find the mercenary group suspected of the attempted assassination of the princess, but…

Naturally, he concealed this reason from Baron Bolten.

“Milli Marceau, she was a friend of mine.”

Isaac’s reason for coming was simple.

He’d already made an appointment with Baron Bolten before the attack, so he could come to Bolten naturally.

“She worked in the kitchens of Helmun. In terms of years, it’s probably been… about six, I reckon.”

“Hmph, that it would be settled, then.”

“……”

He didn’t bother answering.

That alone was answer enough.

“I wish to find Millie’s family. To at least allow me to visit a headstone in Evergard.”

Sincerity emanated from Isaac’s troubled expression.

Baron Volten stroked his thick beard with thick fingers, then nodded.

“Understood. I will set people to the task of inquiring.”

“Thank you, Baron Volten.”

He rose from his seat and grasped the Baron’s hand.

The strong handshake felt as if a subtle hierarchy had been established.

*Did he think he’d found a weakness?*

Of course, it would be ideal if Millie’s family could be found. But there was a clear need to separate the personal from the professional.

Millie’s family was his personal matter, while the attempted assassination of a princess of the realm was a major event for the entire kingdom.

“Do you have lodgings prepared? If you wish, you are welcome to stay at my manor.”

“No. I couldn’t possibly. I’ve reserved a room at the inn. Isn’t that right?”

Isaac turned toward the Grand Master, who had been standing behind him all along.

The Grand Master, seemingly struggling to maintain his composure, twitched, attempting a strained smile.

“Y-yes… booked.”

“Hmm, is that so? A pity. I would have liked to speak further with Baron Logan.”

“Your words alone are appreciated. But as I intend to stay for some time in order to find Millie’s family, I felt it would be inappropriate to impose.”

Calm and courteous manners.

Things he had learned in Helmun, now seeing the light, yet Baron Volten, his counterpart, was not one to care much for such niceties.

“Haha, what imposition is there? The entire kingdom is indebted to Baron Logan in this instance, wouldn’t you say?”

A gleam entered Baron Volten’s eye.

Through this attempted assassination of the princess, Isaac Logan’s recognition had, unintentionally, increased.

“From the North, to the Five Swords of Helmun, Blackthorn, and now this banquet. Baron Logan, you truly walk the path of a hero from legends.”

“That is excessive praise. It happened without intention.”

“Precisely why it is heroic.”

Isaac and Baron Volten stepped out of the manor. As the Baron saw Isaac off, he told him that he would contact him immediately should he learn anything.

Having left the manor, the Grand Master turned to Isaac without delay.

“You purposefully engaged him earlier, didn’t you?”

“Isn’t that besides the point right now?”

“Haa, yes, you’re right. We’ll settle this later.”

“…”

Back in the carriage, the Grand Master couldn’t help but pull out a cigarette holder. Though he didn’t light it, merely held it between his lips.

“So? What did you find out? Uncover anything?”

“One thing is certain…”

Seated, Isaac nodded with a troubled expression.

“He knows something feels off.”

Baron Volten already suspects he is being scrutinized.

But why, despite this, does he act so unconcerned?

His self-assuredness didn’t feel like mere empty bravado.

The two rode toward an inn. They deliberately chose one some distance from the baron’s manor; it would afford them more freedom to operate.

Isaac entered the inn room.

‘Let’s prepare to leave right away.’

Though weary from their travels, they hadn’t come to rest. He intended to begin making inquiries at once.

*Creak.*

The Grand Master entered behind him.

“…Don’t tell me you actually came to scold me about earlier?”

“What do you take me for?”

The Grand Master shrugged, replying with a nonchalant air.

“We’re being followed. Seems to have started as we left the baron’s manor. What do you suggest?”

“A tail? So blatant. Excellent, in fact.”

If they hadn’t reacted at all, their intentions would have been even harder to gauge.

“Let’s use them. Make them believe we’re simply staying at the inn.”

“False information? I rather like that. What do you have in mind?”

“I have a plan. But you’ll need to cooperate.”

“Hmm, anything but making me speak formally.”

“You don’t have to say a word. Just follow me.”

Rather, the moment he opens his mouth, he’ll ruin it.

* * *

The innkeeper was preparing supper.

There was a service of providing supper to the lodgers, though in truth, the ‘supper’ was just a soup made by throwing in whatever was on hand and boiling it all together.

“Innkeeper.”

Right as he was busily boiling, the innkeeper turned at the call of a long-unseen out-of-town guest.

Beside him was a woman, who, as if ashamed, bit her lip, head bowed low.

‘Oh?’

“The mattress on the bed is quite soiled. Do you happen to have a cloth or blanket I could lay over it?”

Such a service wasn’t usually provided.

‘Just by looking at him, you can tell he’s nobility. It would be wise to tread carefully.’

Looking at his fine features, it was clear he was a son from a well-to-do family. Without hesitation, the innkeeper grabbed a freshly laundered blanket he’d washed that day and handed it over.

“Please use it cleanly.”

“Can’t promise you that.”

‘Tsk, how blatant.’

Of course, someone with that face and noble status would likely be changing women every day.

Clicking his tongue, the innkeeper approached a man sitting at a table on the first floor and whispered.

“Looks like he’s taking a rest today. He took a blanket, complaining about the bed.”

“A blanket?”

“Seeing as he has a woman at his side, you understand, yes?”

“Ah.”

The man sighed and nodded.

The innkeeper wondered if there was perhaps a gratuity involved, but only a detached word came.

“The Baron will be pleased.”

Even though that was all, the innkeeper grinned foolishly and rubbed his hands together.

“My goodness! What wouldn’t I do for the Baron?”

The innkeeper bowed several times and returned to his duties.

The man looked up at the staircase Isaac had ascended, clicking his tongue.

‘Tsk, in the end, he’s just the same.’

He had heard the Baron was of commoner birth.

But, in the end, a noble was just a noble.

“The Baron is different.”

Baron Volten was, quite literally, a revolutionary.

The commander who led them all, the enforcer of strict discipline who guarded the city.

I was under orders to keep watch on them, but surely they would merely exhaust themselves from their travels today and fall asleep, spent.

* * *

“Do you have any last words? Out of pity, I will convey them to your ex-wife.”

“I, I have to leave!”

Just as those below had said.

The two on the bed were in the throes of something heated, and indeed, passionate.

The Grand Master’s eyes, as he rushed at Isaac who had just entered the room, burned a fierce blue.

“Never, in all my days, have I been treated in such a manner!”

“I, well, isn’t that the sort of thing men and women do when they’re together in a room at an inn? Thanks to you, I won’t be suspected even if I don’t leave the room today!”

Isaac retreated all the way to the bed, his back pressed flat against the wall.

The Grand Master, rare for him, was genuinely angry but likely not acting on it because he understood the rational reasons behind it.

“Hmph, I understand. But the next time you intend to do something like this, you will explain it to me beforehand.”

“I thought you wouldn’t do it if I explained… Are you truly alright with this?”

He asked, almost as an afterthought.

He didn’t expect an answer.

“I, throughout my life, have resolved most problems with a blade.”

“…”

“And so I shall continue to do.”

Which meant he’d rather just grab his sword and kill everyone to start with than deal with this kind of thing.

“…Let’s go quickly.”

* * *

It took Isaac and the Grand Master roughly three days to travel to Volten, but that was because they were traveling by carriage.

Sharen, traveling alone on horseback with light luggage, would have been able to cut that time down.

Or, at least, she should have.

“Don’t be sick, pleasee!”

Sharen choked back sobs as she looked down at her panting horse. It had collapsed mid-stride, and it was clear something was wrong.

Helmut’s robust physique, typical of his kind, saved him from injury despite the fall from the horse, but it did eliminate any chance of reaching Volten.

“I don’t want to walk!”

Sharen struggled, attempting to heave the horse back to its feet. But the animal showed no sign of rising.

“Why me! It’s all Isaac’s fault! Isaac, you dimwit! Five strikes from the Crimson Sect for you!”

Sharen wailed, tears welling in her eyes.

Already deep in the mountain path, there was nothing to see around, only a dusky gloom.

He didn’t want to camp out for the night, and the darkened mountains were unnervingly eerie.

“Get up!”

He should’ve rested another day before departing.

Lost in his regret, Sharen’s ears caught another sound besides the labored breathing of the horse.

Clop, clop.

“Hooves?!”

Sharen bolted upright.

There, coming along the path he’d traveled, was a group of people.

“Hey! Over here! Hello!”

He waved his arms frantically, blocking the path. Sharen was even prepared to draw his greatsword if necessary, but…

‘It’s alright. I’m cute!’

He was confident that his endearing appearance would sway them.

Six people, give or take.

They were all armed, and moving along the path rather hurriedly, but…

…they halted before Sharen, who blocked their way.

Bypassing any pleasantries, Sharen immediately blurted out.

“Hey! Can you give me a ride? Just to the nearest town, please!”

At Sharen’s request, the man riding in the lead dismounted.

The man had the distinctive scent of sunshine, common to those from the south.

A longsword hung at his hip, and his face had a somewhat frivolous air.

“Please! My horse suddenly collapsed!”

But Sharen saw them only as a lifeline that had descended to rescue him.

“Ahem, Miss, I am Bellington, leader of the Bellingwaltz mercenary company. Might I inquire as to your name?”

There was one simple reason for their excessive politeness.

“Son of a b*tch! A Hellmund?!”

He’d recognized Sharen’s identity before I could even ask.

Red hair, greatsword on her back.

It would have been stranger *not* to recognize her, really.

“What’s a Hellmund doing in a place like this?!”

“What a thunderbolt out of the blue in the dead of night!”

“Ah ha, I am Sharen Hellmund! I just need a ride to the city nearby! I’ll compensate you handsomely for your troubles!”

Sharen proclaims, ever bold. We exchange glances, a little wary.

‘We were heading back to Volten anyway.’

‘Maybe it’s better to just give her a ride and let her go smoothly.’

‘If they see the goods we got as payment, we’re screwed.’

The Bellingwaltz mercenaries exchanged their opinions with furtive glances, and Bellinton nodded with a guileless smile.

“Well, we are a mercenary company. If you’re offering payment, then you’re naturally a client, all of you.”

‘He’s even asking for *payment*?!’

‘Captain! Don’t cross the line!’

‘You morons, this is the right call!’

Unlike the other mercenaries, who wore anxious expressions behind him, Bellinton decided to play it bold.

A mercenary taking on a request without even asking for compensation would seem…unhinged.

“Oh…”

Hearing that, Sharen nodded and said with a laugh.

“I already *did* pay you!”

“…Huh?”

The mercenaries blinked.

What in the world was she talking about?

Sharen grinned, utterly radiant.

“You’re alive, aren’t you?!”

‘That crazy b*tch-!’

‘Goddamn Hellmunddddd!’

‘Is she a knight, or some thug?!’

‘These are insane lunatics!’

Helmut’s renown precedes him.

Known as the knight among knights.

But where there is light, a shadow is naturally cast.

Under Sharen’s insistence, Bellinton clenches his teeth, barely maintaining a smile.

“Ah, indeed! That is correct! Many thanks!”

“Uh, right? You ride behind him. I’ll take your horse!”

“Understood!”

“And have one bring my horse. Got it?”

“Of course! Would there be any doubt!”

Bellinton promptly hands Sharen the horse he rode in on.

“Too high.”

The saddle was too high for her to mount, so Bellinton offered his hand to help her up.

“Jolly! Let’s go!”

The sound of hooves echoes again in the night.

Sharen, in the cool night breeze, recalls with a bright smile:

[Sharen, don’t act rashly outside. Understood? And don’t burden Isaac too much.]

– Geez! Sister! I know already?!

Just before departing, at the main gate.

During a conversation with Lianna.

Lianna, who had seized the position of head of the family after defeating the eldest son, Loengreen, in twenty consecutive duels.

As the mistress of Helmut, she spoke to Sharen with concern, worry lingering on her face.

[Haa, I’m sorry I can’t give you much allowance. We’re not so well-off at the moment.]

The reconstruction of the estate alone cost a fortune, but if that was all, it wouldn’t be a big problem.

The problem was that expenditures had been considerable even before then.

The Sword Emperor Tournament was already incredibly expensive, and on top of that, they provided funerals and condolence money and the like.

For the first time in its history, Helmut was tightening its belt.

– It’s okay, Sister! I can be self-sufficient!

[You even know the word ‘self-sufficient’? Impressive.]

– …….

[Oi! Don’t say stupid things!]

Helmunt had a good ear.

Perhaps that was why.

Loengrin, who had been swinging his greatsword outside and sweating profusely, approached, panting.

“Ah, crap.”

-Blegh.

His two younger sisters plugged their noses.

But Loengrin, unconcerned, clenched his fist and declared,

“If anyone demands money, say this: ‘Isn’t it enough that I saved your life?!’ That’s how I solve most things.”

-Ooh.

“…Sharen, absolutely do not use that.”

Lianna warned, but

unfortunately, Sharen didn’t quite remember that far.

Or maybe she just chose not to.

‘That idiot can be helpful sometimes!’

Sharen said, cheerfully flicking the reins.