WeTried Translations x Flame Comics
Translator/Editor: Hydrogen B
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 135: Duty and Succession (2)
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* * *
The train that had departed Saint Matilene crossed the eastern plains before coming to a halt three days later.
“Sorry!! Rail service has been suspended!”
The station staff’s shouts echoed through every carriage as they walked the aisles. Unfortunately, this was not the sort of cheerful problem one got from a magic bandit raid.
Ivan frowned to himself. It was a shame, considering he had gone to the trouble of sharpening his axe, but the reason the tracks were closed was perfectly reasonable.
“The tracks were closed because a dragon is still alive?”
“Mm.”
Isabelle grumbled as she gathered her things and got off. On the station platform, the group stretched their stiff bodies after spending so long seated on the train.
The station staff’s explanation for the closure was simple. A dragon was rampaging through a nearby territory, so train service had been halted for the people’s safety.
It was a valid reason. A train that stopped for magic bandits had no way to fight off a dragon attack.
Dragons were naturally sadistic, curious creatures. If one spotted a train racing across the grasslands, there was a high chance it would attack.
“Is this near where the dragon appeared?”
“No. We still had a full day by train before reaching the Vernina Mountains.”
“Uh... by train?”
“On foot, it would take about four days.”
“This is insane.”
Isabelle clutched her head and groaned.
Knowing this old man’s personality, he would not kindly choose a route through villages. If they took the shortest route in a straight line, sleeping outdoors was guaranteed.
It was not as if she had never camped in the wilderness before, but this was different. As a woman, there were certain vulnerabilities she could not possibly tolerate exposing. At the very least, she would not be able to wash up, put on a full face of makeup, and show herself looking presentable.
As Isabelle grimaced, Aesidis tilted her head.
“If it’s four days on foot, couldn’t we make it in two on horseback if we push ourselves a little?”
“If we push hard enough, we could do it in one.”
“Then how about riding horses?”
“...Hm.”
Ivan looked at Aesidis with renewed interest. She knew how to ride?
It was something many stories tended to overlook, but horsemanship was an extremely advanced skill. There was a reason equestrian events were Olympic sports.
It involved not only guiding a horse where one wanted to go, but regulating its speed, keeping one’s balance in the saddle, and maintaining a firm posture.
Horses were sensitive, difficult, and intelligent animals. Some would not listen to strangers, and every horse had a different temperament and set of habits. A horse one had only just mounted was not suited for long-distance travel.
A familiarization process had to come first. Being able to control a horse immediately without one was practically a specialist skill.
“I’ve never ridden a horse!”
“I-I only know the basics...”
Isabelle and Elphihara grumbled quietly. Students barely into their twenties, especially those raised in cities, could hardly be expected to know how to ride.
Oscar had been educated by Gilles Ver and had come from the Eastern Knights, so horsemanship did not seem to concern him.
Aesidis was from Droan, so Ivan could understand why she was familiar with it. Droan was simply too vast and rugged to travel without horses.
Ivan stroked his chin, then nodded.
“I’ll arrange the horses. It’s a useful skill to learn while we have the chance.”
It would be useful in the future.
The Hero Party would usually need to go deep into enemy territory. They would have to form expeditionary forces in mountains and fields where there were neither trains nor carriages, and often not even proper roads.
In this era, infiltration teams did not make high-altitude assaults from airships.
Horsemanship would therefore be useful once they learned it. The distance one could cover on horseback could not compare to the distance covered on foot.
At the word “training,” the group grimaced at once.
* * *
The journey by horse was smoother than expected. Tilles was largely made up of plains with little variation in elevation, and the roads in this area were well maintained.
Besides, with a dragon rampaging through the land where the Defender Duke had mobilized his army, there could not possibly be any ordinary bandits around. The only thing blocking their way was the pain of riding horses itself.
That would eventually become valuable experience, so it was all for the best. Ivan stopped paying attention to the group’s complaints of pain.
Instead, he began focusing on more important matters.
They had shut down the tracks for fear of a dragon attack...
Ivan was lost in thought atop his horse. By then, the others were clinging to their saddles with faces half-dead from exhaustion.
The Defender Duke had brought part of the Capital Corps with him and even led the Eastern Knights out, yet they still shut down the tracks...
It was strange. These railways were not only for civilian traffic.
Tilles was a transportation hub. It was a strategic point anchoring the Eastern Front in the northeast, but it was also a trading nation where all kinds of goods passed through, connected to the long sea route leading west to the Kalion Archipelago and the trade routes to the western Allied Nations.
Even if it was only one railway, the volume of supplies it transported each day was not something to overlook.
Ivan quietly flipped through the notebook in his mind as he thought.
They had cut the supply lines.
They had accepted the loss of the trade routes and severed both the retreat routes and supply lines. That included the supply routes for the forces stationed on the Eastern Front and the Eastern Knights under Gilles Ver.
It made some sense if that was the case. There was no need to worry about running out of military supplies immediately, but if this became a prolonged war, it would deal a severe blow.
Most of the railways leading east were likely shut down right now. They could not have halted only the train Ivan was on by coincidence.
“My butt... hurts so much...!!”
“I feel sick, sick. I-I think I’m going to throw up...”
“Then throw up.”
“I can’t do that out here!! That would be the end of me!”
“Would you like me to sing something?”
“...What?”
“A song! I’m a music department student, you know?”
Ignoring the buzzing voices around him, Ivan sank into deeper thought.
The more he considered it, the more precisely the plan fit together. There was a very high chance the dragon’s appearance itself had been a means to lure Gilles Ver away.
The purpose must have been to drive the Defender Duke and his retainers out of the capital. Then... if he were a grand count preparing a rebellion, what else would he have arranged?
A military map of all Tilles was preserved perfectly in Ivan’s mind. He slowly unfolded it.
Mountains and rivers stretched along Tilles’s borders. From the mountainous east, through the central plains, and onward to the vast northern forests.
Red lines spread across it one after another. They were the routes along which people and military supplies moved.
Countless railways, marching routes, and supply lines, along with the garrisons of each corps and its subordinate units, fortified castles, and the strongholds of noble estates, became entangled in a complicated web.
As points and lines colored in the map, all the shapes that had been busily moving and intertwining came to a stop.
The entire northeastern plain hardened. Supplies stopped moving. A dragon ran amok.
Gilles Ver left to stop it. But that was not enough. With Gilles Ver’s ability, one dragon alone would not suffice.
That meant the demonfolk supposedly appearing on the Eastern Front could not easily threaten the border. Their position was too close to Gilles Ver’s marching route...
Every conceivable plan... was built on the assumption that Gilles Ver could be killed.
His presence alone could eliminate every threat to the nation before it emerged. Whenever he moved, the corps of every faction had to pull back.
The Eastern Knights he led from the front were Tilles’s strongest military force.
How, then, did they intend to kill him?
* * *
“Military banners!!”
Elphihara, who had been drooling while sprawled over her horse’s back, abruptly sat upright and shouted.
Across the broad fields at the foot of the mountains, military banners fluttered in the distance.
Elphihara instantly wove mana and formed hand seals. Blue sparks crackled from her hands as she curled one into a circle and held it against one eye.
“Military banners! That’s right! Over there!!”
“I know.”
“We’re here! Oh my god... Oh my god... I’m never, never riding something like a horse again.... R-riding livestock is barbaric, you know? A civilized person in modern society should use magitech devices.”
“I see.”
“Like air warships! Or sky transports!”
Ignoring the daughter of an elven Privy Council member casually talking about privately appropriating military equipment, Ivan turned his horse toward the encampment.
After about thirty more minutes of travel, they crossed the hills, and the camp gradually came into clearer view.
“Wow....”
Eugene stared in awe. He had lived only in cities since transmigrating, so this was his first time seeing a full-scale military camp.
The Saint Francesco banner of the Eastern Knights fluttered throughout the camp, depicting a sun rising over the fields and burning a demon.
Countless horses and attendants moved throughout the camp. Knights dressed in gleaming armor stood among soldiers marching to and fro.
A guard who noticed their approach waved a hand. It was a signal to stop.
“Stop!! This is a military operation zone! State your identities! Where have you come from?”
“Saint Matilene.”
At Ivan’s answer, the guard’s face twisted into a deep frown.
“Damn it. Did our lords send these people as reinforcements? Are they planning to spy on us, too?”
The guard had only muttered from a distance, but Ivan heard every word clearly. The Royal Family and the House of Nobles’ public standing had clearly hit rock bottom.
It was only natural. They had assigned a mission and sent the troops out, then cut off their supply line. Of course, the atmosphere inside the camp would be grim.
There was no need to correct the misunderstanding that they were officials sent by the Royal Family. His time could be used more effectively.
As the soldier started to shout something, Ivan raised a hand to stop him and spoke briefly.
“Tell Gilles Ver de Etakrikh that Ivan Petrovich has arrived.”
“How dare you...!! Do you speak as though His Grace the Duke is your friend? Here, at the Eastern Knights’ encampment?!”
“Friend.”
It was not wrong, but it was not a word he particularly liked.
Ivan crooked his lips and said, “That is not for you to judge. If someone came all the way from Saint Matilene to this place, then whatever I am is not something you can handle. Go and tell your master properly. Ivan Petrovich has arrived.”
“...Martin! Make sure those bastards can’t run! Archers! You may shoot if they move!”
The guard disappeared into the camp with a face red from anger.
Oscar approached Ivan and whispered, “Wouldn’t it have been easier if I had simply said I came to see my father?”
“...Mm.”
“...Pardon?”
“That’s true.”
Ivan turned away. Oscar tilted his head for a moment, wondering whether Ivan had some other intention, then stepped back.
Eugene sidled up beside him.
“Hehe, Mr. Oscar. He’s feeling embarrassed right now. And a little excited, too!”
“...What?”
“His Affinity went up, so I can see a bit of his [Current Feelings]. Ah, wait. Ah... Uh....”
It had just dropped by three points.
“I can’t see it anymore,” Eugene said, smiling obsequiously again.
Oscar failed to understand what Eugene meant, but did not bother asking again. Most people from Krasilov he had met were not normal to begin with.
Even the three from the club whom Ivan had gathered were the most extreme examples. They were lunatics whose reputation had spread throughout the academy. Oscar had even wondered whether Ivan had a hobby of collecting madmen.
Wait, then does that mean I...?
Come to think of it, he was probably one of the students Ivan had collected as well....
After that terrible thought, Oscar shook his head hard. Normal people could not understand the thought processes of madmen.
Soon, he had no choice but to snap out of his thoughts.
“Who dares!!”
A booming voice began shaking the entire camp.
Killing intent as sharp as a blade swept over the encampment and soared into the sky. The changing wind violently snapped the military banners.
The soldiers flinched with terrified faces.
“I-I’ve never seen the Duke this furious before....”
“Should we run...?”
“If those people escape, we’ll have to face the Duke in their place. Wait.”
The soldiers whispered fearfully among themselves. Ivan stood straight and measured the killing intent pouring forth.
He’s grown stronger.
That annoying bastard.
“How dare you insult the dead!! Who is it?! Who dared tell me that name?!”
“Out of my way!! I will ask them myself where they heard that name, and who told them to pass it on to me!!”
That was even worse than Einar.
His personality had really gone downhill. Then again, it had never been good in the first place.
Ivan snickered and waited. Soon, the killing intent poured toward him.
The soldiers who had gathered in a crowd silently split apart and moved aside. Amid soldiers snapped rigidly to attention, blazing killing intent slowly approached.
A massive banner bearing crossed antlers, a shield, and a spear fluttered behind him. It was Etakrikh’s crest, the emblem of the Defender Duke.
A group of stern-looking knights followed in measured steps. They were the Initiate Knights of the Eastern Knights. And before them stood...
The commander of the Eastern Knights, the Guardian of Saint Matilene, the Defender Duke of the Thilles Kingdom, Lord Protécteur of the Monarchie des Tilléçaise. The Knight of Iron Mountain. The shield of the Hero Party.
A middle-aged man was walking toward them, clad in ash-gray armor with a purple cloak draped around him like a standard.
Heavy footsteps, blazing green eyes, blond hair neatly combed back and tied, and completely out of place...
A truly, utterly, completely out-of-place moustache.
Ivan was stunned. The distinct comma-shaped moustache that reminded him of Pringles had been smoothly groomed and curled upward.
“...Ivan Petrovich...?”
As Ivan lost his words to shock for a moment, Gilles Ver stood there blankly and stared at him.
Gilles Ver slowly reached out, covered Ivan’s jaw, and narrowed his eyes.
“Alive... You were alive...? You were alive...? Then that funeral...? Did you deceive m-me...? Again?!”
“Gilles Ver de Etakrikh.”
“Ivan... Ivan, you bastard...!!”
“Yermof.”
“What? What did you say?”
“Ivan Petrovich Yermof. I’m a noble now.”
“Ha... Hah!!!”
Gilles Ver laughed as though he were choking on a cough. After holding his forehead and groaning for a long while, he raised his head with a much more relaxed expression.
At last, Ivan could no longer hold it in.
“What the hell is with that moustache?”
“What the hell is with that moustache?!”
The two began criticizing each other at the same time. With the exact same words and the exact same timing.
“You’ve gotten better.”
“You’ve gotten better?!”
Superhumans could judge an opponent’s ability from their bearing, breathing, posture, and gait alone. At their level, and after serving in the same theater for years, it was even easier.
The two superhumans frowned at exactly the same time.
“When you’re born with talent, you ought to know when to stop working.”
“When you’re born with talent, you ought to know when to stop working.”
Then, in one voice,
“Annoying bastard.”
“Annoying bastard.”
They smiled as they walked toward each other and reached out.
It was not a handshake. It was a deeper kind of salute, where they reached farther and gripped each other’s forearms.
“Good to see you.”
“You too!!”
To Ivan, Gilles Ver had been the most annoying bastard in the Hero Party.
He was always putting on airs, loudly grumbling about the proper conduct of nobles, and trying to compete with the Hero despite lacking the skill to do so.
Pride and self-respect, inferiority and insecurity, all tangled together. A very human, infuriating noble knight.
To Gilles Ver, Ivan had been the most annoying bastard in the Hero Party.
He was always putting on airs, nagging about this and that because he was supposedly a trained agent, then saying things like, “I can do anything I’ve seen once,” and immediately copying whatever someone showed him.
Pride and self-respect, inferiority and insecurity, all tangled together. A soldier so human that he was even more infuriating.
And so, when they finally saw each other’s faces, the two smiled.
* * *
Footnotes:
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