WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Oblivious

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ Prince of Rage ◈

Chapter 42

──────

The destruction of the Peat Guild in just two days was a shocking event even within Gringen.

All sorts of gangs regularly sprang up and disappeared, but the Peat Guild had existed in the city for a long time, and the position of guild master had been passed down like a family business for two generations.

People understood clearly what punishment awaited anyone who crossed the Frog Mercenary Company, as well as the power that carried it out and the brutality of its results.

Power naturally gathered wherever there was strength and money. Valerie had both, and once that had been proven, he became someone no one could defy.

The first person to notice and react was a man named Edmund, the master of the Jewel Guild.

As though he had been waiting, he came to the mercenary company headquarters and asked to see Valerie.

Valerie had expected the head of the Jewel Guild to be dressed in extravagant finery, but Edmund was not. He looked more like a master craftsman. His clothes were not silk, and he wore no gold or jewels.

Edmund sat across the table from Valerie, placed a ruby half the size of a fist on it, and spoke.

“This ruby is called Blood Tear. It is the most valuable gem ever mined in Gringen.”

Knut, Arne, Skard, and Yorick were not seated with Valerie. They stood around the room as they pleased or perched on a chest of drawers. Everyone except Knut stared wide-eyed.

It was hard to estimate the value of a flawless gem of such exceptional quality and size. There might not be another like it in the entire kingdom.

Still, selling such a jewel would be a problem. How much could they ask for it, and who could afford to buy it?

Then Edmund said something shocking.

“I will give this to you.”

Valerie thought quietly. The meaning of surrender was obvious. They had not fought, but this was a way of lowering their heads on their own.

Still, he thought Edmund must have some purpose or desire in offering such a thing.

“What do you want?”

“Before I tell you what I want, can you bear this? Gringen’s Blood Tear, I mean.”

Edmund was speaking metaphorically. He meant the tears of blood made from all the resentment, sorrow, pain, and grief Gringen, a city little different from a den of criminals, had endured.

But Valerie’s answer was cold.

“Do not expect that of me. I am no savior. In the end, the person who must wipe away their tears of blood and rise from where they have fallen is themselves. Let me ask you instead. What have you been doing until now, that you only come to me now and ask whether I can bear it?”

Edmund smiled bitterly at Valerie’s pointed words.

“Unlike many others, my guild members and I did not come here from outside. We are natives of Gringen. I am sure you know there were two great wars long ago, Commander. At first, this place was a refuge. Now, it has become something like a hideout. To be honest, shamefully, we did not have the strength to bear it.”

Before the wars, Edmund’s family had been Astrian nobility. They had ruled Gringen.

But after two great wars, waves of refugees, and criminals who came afterward, they lost their rights. They had somehow maintained their line, but they no longer possessed their former noble status.

Valerie nodded as though he understood.

He was not so heartless as to be cruel even to an honest person who could reveal their own shame.

“I am neither the king of criminals nor the king of slaves. I will do what I must, and everyone else must do their own part. If you treat me with respect, I will treat you with respect as well. Take this gem with you.”

Edmund nodded as though he understood, rose from his seat, and bowed. It was not quite an oath of loyalty, but it showed that he acknowledged Valerie’s authority.

Then he left, leaving Blood Tear on the table.

Valerie picked up Blood Tear and examined it. The gem was so large that it seemed unreal. It glittered in the light coming through the window, but rather than beautiful, it somehow looked sad.

“Can I touch it too?”

Knut asked. When Valerie handed it to him, the other friends crowded around as though they had been waiting, busy admiring it.

With this, Valerie had brought the two largest powers in the city under his control. He had cut off the Peat Guild’s head and taken all its property and personnel, but he treated the Jewel Guild with respect.

He put Skard forward to sweep away the remaining small gangs, the petty groups that had been collecting spot fees.

Afterward, he continued to provide people with work, money, food, and stable security.

Once things had settled to some extent, a market formed on its own and commerce began to develop. It had been a city from the beginning.

It was as though they had only given water to a dying person so they could wet their throat, and that person had gathered strength and risen again.

Next, Valerie mobilized people to repair the city walls. Gringen’s marshes and river formed natural defenses, while its only land route to the west was surrounded by a palisade. The work involved replacing that palisade with a stone wall.

Time passed, and summer arrived. Summer in the north was cool, much like spring in the south.

By the time that summer was nearing its end, it had taken around four months to gather all of Eldeira’s forces.

There were about a thousand troops, while Gringen’s entire population was around two thousand.

An army in this age was not a single group with a unified structure. It was closer to an alliance of several groups gathered together.

As though proving that, different banners fluttered across the plain beyond Torvik.

Colorful tents and large barracks that could house many people had been set up throughout the encampment, and people moved between them.

Some wagons were filled with freshly butchered meat, while many women in the field kitchens chopped meat and vegetables to prepare meals.

When an army gathered, one had to assume that three or four times as many people as the actual fighters gathered with it. The families of knights and soldiers, merchants, and such.

In other words, although the entire military force of the Duchy of Eldeira was fewer than a thousand people, four or five thousand traveled with them.

It was not as though these people had gathered to farm or trade. The food required to feed them each day alone cost an enormous sum.

Moreover, morale had to be maintained, so feasts were held every day, with food and drink enough to make it seem like a festival.

Just considering the pay for knights and soldiers, along with the cost of food and drink, waging war was a terrible thing financially.

Duke Sven bore almost all these expenses himself. As a Duke, his strength and resources were certainly formidable, but if he produced no results, if he suffered defeat, even a Duke would find it difficult to deal with the aftermath.

After a full four months, it seemed that everyone had more or less gathered. It was time to stop laughing and celebrating.

Thus, the Duke, his eldest son Gunnar, his captain of the guard and military officer, and the leaders responsible for individual forces, including the Counts of Winslow, Windale, and Revi, gathered in the command tent for a meeting.

Harald sat in a chair set out at the edge, while Gidwin stood guard beside him.

The Duke’s captain of the guard explained the operation as though giving opening remarks.

“As you all know, an attack by land must pass through the territory of the Margrave of Dunbria. That means there is a possibility of conflict. Therefore, to diversify our routes of attack, we have also considered opening a path through the marshlands. The waterways would be difficult, since the enemy could easily burn our boats with peat. I propose that we proceed with both advances.”

“......”

Given the gravity of the matter, the tent was quiet apart from the sounds outside. The counts in particular maintained expressionless faces, as though seated at a high-stakes gambling table.

“So, regarding the opening of the marshlands, I would like Count Revi to take charge of it.”

“......Why me?”

“Pardon?”

“There are two other counts here. Why must I be the one to take it on?”

“That is because you have the fewest knights......”

Winslow had around seven knights, including the Count himself. Windale had around eight, including the Count, his son, a baron, and frontier knights.

Count Revi had five, the fewest. His territory was the smallest.

Duke Sven was said to have around forty knights, but when they were actually summoned, there were only around thirty.

This was because there were places like Molten Tower, where Valerie had once stopped as Patrol Commissioner. They were called frontier knights, but were not actually knights.

Even including the four knights who had died with the Second Young Master, they did not reach forty.

“So you mean to discriminate against me? Is that Your Grace’s will?”

Count Revi spoke while looking at Duke Sven, seated in the place of honor. Duke Sven did not like it, but forced a smile.

“How could I discriminate against you? The captain of the guard and military officer here devised this operation together. They have much experience, so hear them out.”

“If that is Your Grace’s will, then as your vassal, I must naturally obey. But what of the right to loot?”

Looting could not be done however one pleased. It could be permitted according to an assigned order or time, or forbidden altogether. Such matters were also the responsibility of the supreme commander.

“I will permit half a day.”

“Please permit one day.”

“......”

Commanding an army was this difficult. It was not something accomplished through brilliant operations, schemes, or fighting strength. First, one had to make them listen before anything could proceed.

There were even times during war when people packed up and left simply because they were displeased.

That was why a ruler’s ability was more important than anything else. They had to crush people or win them over. Without personal charisma, one could not lead such rough men.

Unfortunately, although the Duke knew how to devise cunning plots and intrigues, he lacked the ability to command everyone as a whole.

Count Revi was not rebelling outright. This sort of refusal and demand was common when commanding an army.

“......Very well. I will permit one day.”

“Thank you.”

The Duke’s captain of the guard looked around the gathering once before continuing.

“I believe that if we can safely bring the army close to Gringen by land, it will effectively be over. After urging them to surrender, if they refuse, we intend to lay siege with ladders. Their defenses are made of palisades, so if we charge all at once using our numbers, we should be able to take it in half a day.”

“Is the route of advance not the problem? It is a narrow and rough rocky area. If the Margrave of Dunbria’s forces appear along the way and strike our flank, how do you intend to deal with them?”

Count Aethelred of Winslow asked.

“We will have each soldier carry a stake and set them up along the road. As long as we do not climb up to fight them, we should be fine. The Highlanders are frightening because they are accustomed to difficult terrain. Once they come down to level ground, they are no match for knights.”

In truth, the Highlanders did not ride horses. Their notable trait was that they used enormous swords. They were accustomed to highlands, and their courage and stamina were exceptional, but as the captain of the guard said, they could not match knights on ordinary flat ground.

“What about the supply route?”

This time, Count Windale asked.

“As I said......”

“No, let us say we pass through while setting up stakes. What will you use to transport food if Gringen does not fall at once? If the Margrave’s forces cut off the supply route, will we not be isolated in enemy territory? Wagons already have difficulty passing through there.”

The captain of the guard apparently could not think of an answer and turned to the Duke.

“I will guard the rear, so do not worry about that.”

“Are you saying Your Grace will not accompany us?”

“My eldest son will handle the advance and the capture of the city.”

“......”

What was this supposed to mean? The three counts were left speechless. It defied common sense for the one leading a war not to be with the army.

Even if he did not fight at the front, it was only natural for the ruler or supreme commander to be on the battlefield. It had to be so, both symbolically and practically.

Knights and soldiers would charge at the risk of their lives only if their ruler held his place and watched the battlefield. Otherwise, what would they trust in while fighting? They would also expect rewards to be distributed fairly only if the ruler saw to them personally.

War involved lives. Fighting while risking those lives was not something people could do simply because they were told to.

The three counts felt that something was wrong, but they said nothing. They looked at Gunnar, but though he had a strong build, he did not inspire confidence. His reputation was not particularly good, either.

“I will hire and send mercenaries. We have already made contact, and the contract is practically finalized, so you may trust me. It is the famous Silverrich Mercenary Company. It should take no more than three days to capture a place like Gringen.”

The Silverrich Mercenary Company was famous throughout the north. Originally a group of Norsemen warriors, it had increased its numbers by accepting people of various races.

It had around five hundred combatants, around ten of whom fought on horseback. Its forces practically surpassed those of a count, though its members were usually scattered and gathered when work arose.

“......”

Those attending the strategy meeting did not like it, but it was not as though they could back out now.

In any case, the meeting ended that way.

Count Winslow left the tent and was about to return to his own tent with Harald, his knights, and Gidwin.

But before they had gone far, someone called out to him.

“Count Winslow.”

When he turned, it was Count Windale. He was known for his ignorance, but a man who was merely ignorant could not have governed a county.

He was alone, without even an escort. So Count Aethelred spoke to Harald and the others around him.

“Go on ahead.”

Those nearby thought there must be something serious to discuss, so they agreed and stepped away.

Count and count. A private meeting that was not quite private.

Count Aethelred asked.

“......What is it?”

“What do you think of the long-standing grudge between our two houses?”

It was an unexpected question, but the fact that he said it suggested he had something in mind.

“The Norsemen rule the world. What meaning does an old grudge have?”

Winslow and Windale had originally come from the same root. They had long been enemies, each claiming the other’s territory as their own.

After enduring the War of Conquest, they had become distant with one another. As an aside, the reason they had survived even after the War of Conquest was that the Norsemen recognized their courage. Those who surrendered halfheartedly were all killed.

“I think the same. So, what do you say to the two of us joining hands?”

“What do you mean?”

“I am not suggesting that we do anything immediately. But no matter how I think about it, I cannot trust them. If things go wrong, I am saying that at least the two of us should face it together.”

Even if they had to retreat, retreating in a group would greatly improve their chances of survival.

And after coming to the encampment and watching them, Count Windale found neither the Duke, who could not even keep his son in line, nor his foolish eldest son reliable. Honestly, they both seemed like complete idiots.

Ironically, an old enemy seemed more trustworthy.

“There may be no old grudge left, but is it not too soon for trust to take root between us?”

Aethelred asked again.

“You have one legitimate eldest son, and I have one daughter, do I not?”

He was proposing a marriage alliance. At that moment, Count Aethelred remembered what Valerie had said.

‘Form an alliance with the Count of Windale. Harald is not even engaged yet, so he can be used as an important diplomatic card. If we bring Count Revi in as well, the Duke will not be able to treat us carelessly. If necessary, we may even be able to raise an army and contend with him.’

Many thoughts passed through Count Aethelred’s mind. He had heard from afar that Groin-Ripper had been dealt with, and recently, he had also heard that the Third Young Master had been helped to escape and hidden in Gringen.

He did not know why Valerie had done it, but his feelings were complicated.

One thing was clear. As Valerie had said, he was not a man equal to the task.

But for his house and family, he had to make a decision. This war would either sweep them away in a storm or leave them alive to seize an opportunity.

His deliberation was not as long as expected, and Count Aethelred answered.

“Very well.”

Join our discord at https://dsc.gg/wetried