WeTried Translations
Translator: Hydrogen B
Editor: Hydrogen B
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 189: The Road Home (10)
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The Falken Bridge and the cities on either side were more chaotic than usual. A crowd stretched along the Voldra River as far as the eye could see.
“Is something going on?”
“Who knows. I just hope the trading convoy isn't being held up.”
“We might have to pay more in tolls.”
“Tolls?”
“It isn't as though the fortress soldiers only started taking bribes under the pretense of tolls yesterday.”
“Still...”
“A few coins aren't what matters right now. What matters is whether we can get to Baldheim. They say Duke Ehrenfeld is gathering food on a massive scale. Looks like they're planning to start a civil war among themselves, doesn't it? There are still lords in the north loyal to the Baldrick royal family. As long as we can make some money, though, what do we care?”
The man snickered.
He was the Merchant Head of a small company and was currently on horseback. Ten large freight wagons rumbled along behind him. Considering both their number and the cargo they carried, it was a fairly large trading convoy for a small merchant company.
“This is better, if anything. As long as we get through safely, I don't mind slipping them a little extra. Thank goodness Baron Falken's soldiers are such rotten bastards.”
“Will it really go as smoothly as you think?”
The young man riding beside him asked in a timid voice.
“Worried?”
“Well...”
“You really are a coward. You know Baron Falken and I are on good terms, right?”
“...”
“Once we cross this bridge, it'll be a straight road from there. Once we reach the capital, we can sell our goods to Duke Ehrenfeld for a high price. It's not like northerners struggling for food is anything new. And if we're lucky...”
The man grinned as his imagination took flight.
“We might even get our hands on a little of that rare star iron, just like the rumors say.”
Stellarium. The finest metal, found only in the Caldra Mountains of the north, which even the greatest noble houses could not easily obtain.
After Hailen fell, its supply had been cut off entirely, making star iron swords even more precious. The items that occasionally appeared at major auctions sold for at least tens of thousands of Gold. Even then, countless nobles were willing to pay an enormous premium if they missed the auction.
“I knew this would happen, so I prepared a secret weapon.”
Archandia of the Empire was not the only culturally advanced place. Selaine of the Federation was also famous for its luxuries and liquor. The man puffed out his chest and strode confidently through the center of the small city.
Before long, a massive stone bridge crossing the lower Voldra River came into view. It was the Falken Bridge.
The bridge was wide enough for two large freight wagons to travel side by side, yet strangely, not a soul was on it. Only the city's residents lingered near the riverbank, their faces filled with worry.
“Merchant Head...”
“Let's go.”
Steeling himself, the man was the first to step onto the bridge. The wagons behind him followed one by one.
Eyes watched them from every direction. Beneath their feet came the harsh sound of rushing water. It was late March. At this time of year, when the weather began to warm, the river's flow increased sharply, and drownings were common in rivers like this.
Of course, the Falken Bridge was sturdy enough that it had not collapsed once in hundreds of years, so there was no need to worry about that.
After passing the midpoint of the bridge and nearing the city gate, the man at the front raised a hand. The wagons behind him came to an orderly stop.
Yet there was no response from atop the walls.
Normally, the arrogant soldiers would have shouted at them. But now, it was terrifyingly quiet. Like the calm before a storm.
“This is strange...”
“Yeah. Don't you think something really happened? The atmosphere doesn't feel right.”
“Hmm.”
Just as the man dismounted with a low murmur, a soldier peered down from the previously empty wall.
More precisely, the soldier looked at the man at the front, the young man, and the line of ten wagons behind them.
“They're here?”
“Oh, it's opening.”
Creeeak.
The heavy gate rose upward. The man waited calmly.
When it fully opened, someone he had never seen before stood beyond it. A middle-aged man with a rather sly-looking face, wearing a cloak like armor and a sword at his waist.
Who is that?
The man frowned. It was definitely a face he did not recognize. His posture and weaponry were too unusual for a soldier, while his dress was far too freewheeling for a knight.
Did Baron Falken have someone like that under his command?
Even as he looked around, the familiar captain of the guard was nowhere to be seen. All that remained were the city's residents gathered along the riverbank behind him and the man standing beyond the open gate.
The soldier who had appeared atop the wall earlier was watching the man's every move with strange caution. The other soldiers were the same. There were far fewer of them than before, and fear filled their eyes.
What is going on?
His instincts sounded the alarm.
Walter strode forward and stopped right in front of him. The man's body froze stiff.
Walter spoke first.
“A trading convoy?”
“Y-Yes, it is. But where is the former captain of the guard...”
“That's none of your concern.”
His tone was mocking, but the atmosphere was anything but.
“Did the Grand Duke send you?”
Walter abruptly asked.
The man rolled his eyes and muttered.
“T-The Grand Duke, you mean...”
There was only one Grand Duke in the Federation. Grand Duke Rivelius, Adrian Archandia, once the Emperor's most favored, an imperial prince of Elandor and current member of the Federation Supreme Council.
“You mean Grand Duke Rivelius, Your Excellency?”
“Yeah.”
“Why are you suddenly asking about that...?”
“Do you have a document bearing the Grand Duke's seal?”
“I do not...”
“So you're really an ordinary trading convoy. Where are you headed?”
“B-Baldheim.”
“The capital?”
“Yes. We heard Duke Ehrenfeld has been paying high prices for food, so as soon as the Federation's Grand Assembly ended, we headed north with our wagons.”
“Hmm...”
Walter glanced sideways at the man and the wagons behind him.
“Sorry, but I don't think I can let you pass.”
“What? Is this about the toll? If it is, then...”
“No. That's not the problem. Your identity is.”
The man stared blankly.
It was only natural. He had led trading convoys countless times, and while he had been turned away for not having enough money, he had never been stopped because of his identity. Even the owners of major merchant companies were rarely nobles. At most, they were illegitimate children or youngest sons pushed out of succession.
“...Please let me meet Baron Falken. I should speak to the Baron himself, not you.”
The man's face hardened as he forcibly steadied his voice.
Walter snickered.
“The Baron is gone now.”
“What do you mean...”
“He died a few days ago. First, I need to check something.”
Walter casually walked past the man and stopped before a nearby freight wagon. After inspecting it from several angles, he suddenly drew his sword and stabbed it through the canvas.
Stab! Stab! Stab!
“W-What are you doing?!”
The man cried out in shock. The young man beside him was equally horrified.
Walter ignored every gaze and silently continued his work.
“No people inside.”
“...”
“Good. You're not as stupid as the ones who tried to pass through before. If you had lied, I would have had to kill you all.”
Everyone stood there with their mouths open.
Walter did not care. He shook the grains of wheat from his blade and sheathed it.
“Are you transporting nothing but food?”
“...Yes. We do have a few bottles of wine.”
“Good.”
Walter returned to the man's side and laid a heavy arm over his shoulder.
“I can't give you permission to pass, but you don't have to go back empty-handed.”
“How...?”
“We happened to need food, too.”
Walter grinned.
“Shall we have a little talk?”
* * *
After killing Baron Falken and roughly putting the fortress in order, Kyle brought Rudolf out of the underground prison.
Having endured considerable torture, Rudolf clearly was not in good condition. Kyle first used the potions he had on hand to treat Rudolf. Then, he summoned a famous herbalist from the city to tend to Rudolf's remaining wounds.
Fortunately, perhaps thanks to a high-ranking knight's tenacious vitality, Rudolf's life was not in any great danger. After treating Rudolf's many injuries and resting well for several days, Rudolf quickly regained their health.
The main reason was that the torture had not been too severe, likely because Baron Falken had tried to persuade Rudolf until the very end.
Once Rudolf had nearly recovered, Kyle arranged for them to meet alone.
In the plain office once used by Baron Falken.
“Please, drink. There was nothing but alcohol in the fortress, so I couldn't prepare anything grand, but it should make you feel better.”
Kyle offered tea as they sat across from each other on the sofa. It was pine needle tea, which he had meant to drink in Arenbach Village.
He had not drunk it then because it had been poisoned, but there was no need to worry now that Kyle had brewed it himself.
“Thank you, Lord Kyle.”
Rudolf dipped their head slightly. The middle-aged knight, who seemed to be around Hermann's age, tasted the tea and slowly closed their eyes as though savoring it.
“You can call me Kyle, as you did before.”
“No. I cannot. Lord Kyle... no, Commander. You are no longer a squire.”
Rudolf refused firmly.
Kyle smiled bitterly. The middle-aged knight looked far healthier than when Rudolf had first been locked in the underground prison, but a faint smile lingered on the knight's face.
Kyle quietly watched Rudolf's complicated expression, filled with so many emotions.
You've gained more wrinkles.
Come to think of it, he had also been a little surprised when he first saw Walter and Hermann. Here and there, strands of white hair had become noticeable.
Kyle himself was the same. He had changed greatly from the past. They all had.
The passage of time was like a wave no one could escape.
Has that much time really passed?
“To be honest... I still can't believe it.”
Rudolf broke the silence.
“Even more than the fact that I survived after preparing to die, I can't believe the day has come when I can face Lord Kyle again like this. If it isn't too rude to ask, how have you been all this time?”
Rudolf, who had been staring into their teacup, lifted their head to look at Kyle.
Amid the white steam rising from the tea, Kyle answered lightly.
“A lot has happened.”
Since he had been defeated by the Empire four years ago and fled alone to the southern part of the continent, Kyle began recounting everything that had happened to him.
He had already told Hermann and Walter these stories, but for some reason, looking back on the past before Rudolf felt different.
Is it because Rudolf is one of the few people who shares memories of Cecilia and me?
“I heard the wyvern knights had taken a severe beating, but...”
“...”
“So it was all true. The Emperor's secret and even the Federation's support.”
Rudolf thought deeply and fell silent for some time.
The sun outside slowly sank, and the sunlight on the table slanted between the teacups. Then Kyle asked in return.
“How have you been, Rudolf?”
Rudolf could not answer right away. Their lips moved a few times before they finally spoke.
“As you know, after the previous head of House Haska passed away, Lord Harald inherited the title. That has not changed even after the war ended. However...”
“However?”
“The situation is not very good. Not only did the previous Count fall, but a large portion of our elite forces were killed in the Northern War. Lady Cecilia, too...”
Rudolf hesitated mid-sentence.
Cecilia was a sore spot for Kyle. Rudolf belatedly studied Kyle's expression. Kyle's black eyes had been steeped in deep regret ever since the past was brought up.
“My apologies.”
“No, it wasn't that. I wasn't blaming you, Lord Kyle. Count Harald mourned Lady Cecilia's loss as well, but he was just as proud of her. She fought until the very end.”
“...”
“What I wish to say is simply that the north's situation is worse than you think, Lord Kyle.”
“You are still as upright as ever, almost to a fault.”
“We must face reality if we are to move forward.”
Kyle did not deny it.
Rudolf continued, laying out what they knew.
“The force under Duke Ehrenfeld, who currently occupies Baldheim, is larger than you can imagine.”
There were three thousand defenders stationed in the capital. Naturally, that was not the end of his forces.
Every house that had always been lukewarm toward the royal family, and had stood by during the Northern War, had joined Duke Ehrenfeld. Baron Falken, whom Kyle had killed, was only one of them.
“It seems even half the neutral nobles who had been watching have gone over to his side.”
They had been torn between their loyalty to the royal family and the survival of their houses. Their hearts had swayed toward the security Duke Ehrenfeld promised.
On the other hand, few loyalists remained to the end. They had fought at the forefront during the Northern War and suffered the greatest losses.
Both financially and militarily.
“The greatest problem is food. The north was never a prosperous land to begin with, and after the war, even tomorrow's meal has become precious. Duke Ehrenfeld is practically sweeping up even that.”
“That will not be a problem.”
“Have you already received support?”
Rudolf asked with surprise in their eyes.
“No.”
“Then...?”
“I have money that Grand Duke Rivelius gave me in advance. It is not enough to rebuild the entire country, but it will be sufficient war funds to strike Duke Ehrenfeld. At the very least, we will not have to struggle over food for the time being.”
By now, the Federation's Grand Assembly would be over, and Renavik would have returned to normal.
In other words, many merchant companies would be heading north across the border. Whether they came from the Federation, passed through the Empire, or traveled from the south of the continent.
“Prepare a messenger hawk. I must send Count Haska a letter. In the name of Kyle Baldrick, I will issue a summons.”
Kyle rose from his seat.
Rudolf looked up at him with trembling eyes.
“Are you... going to strike the capital?”
“It is a place that must rightfully be reclaimed.”
Kyle answered without hesitation.
Baldheim, the capital of Hailen. That place, steeped in Kyle's memories, held everything from his past. The hill he missed, the memories he could never forget, the throne he had once thought would belong to a dear friend, and the usurper who had taken all of it away.
“Everyone in the north must prove it.”
“...”
“Whether they have forgotten their oath to the royal family.”
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