WeTried Translations
Translator: Hydrogen B
Editor: Hydrogen B
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 191: The Road Home (12)
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Kyle sat at the desk that had once belonged to Baron Falken, quietly staring at the stack of documents before him.
By the time he came to his senses, the mountain of work had been neatly sorted out. The initial sense of overwhelm was nowhere to be found. It was thanks to Kyle handling matters whenever he had the chance.
It had already been a week since they took Falken Fortress.
During that time, Kyle had done much. He brought the chaotic city under control, compared ledgers to uncover the assets Baron Falken had hidden, and set House Falken straight after its lord vanished. Reorganizing the forces left in the fortress had been only natural. At Rudolf's advice, he had also made sure to weed them out. It would be troublesome if they were stabbed in the back.
Even so, he had not neglected preparations to leave. Falken Fortress was an immensely important strategic point, especially for future ties with the Federation, but they could not remain here forever. Food had been his greatest concern. It was even more important at a time like this, when supplies were difficult to acquire. Winter would not fade for some time yet.
“...”
Kyle slowly read the final note in his hand.
It had been delivered by a messenger hawk that arrived in great haste that morning, and it contained the news Kyle had waited so long to hear.
Harald Haska had inherited his house several years ago, succeeding the previous Count Haska.
Cecilia's biological older brother, and a loyalist noble Kyle already knew.
The three of them had been fairly close in age, with only around five years between them. Perhaps that was why Kyle cared for Count Haska just as deeply as he did Cecilia and the other members. The three of them had gone out together in the past.
Now, they were only painful memories.
The note contained exactly what Kyle had hoped for. Not only did it ask after his well-being, saying it was fortunate that he was alive, it also declared House Haska's resolve to stand with Kyle, the last Commander of the Knights of Ash, until the very end.
“Lunbern, Sigreta, Wolfran...”
Kyle murmured to himself.
There were many other houses that could join them as well. More than Kyle had expected. As Rudolf had said, the forces that could immediately gather under a muster order numbered around two thousand.
Two thousand.
It was by no means a small force. It was pitiful compared to their heyday, but it was almost miraculous that so many remained. It would not have been strange if they had all died or fled. Even the royal loyalist nobles had endured for so long that they were on the verge of splitting apart.
Perhaps more lords than expected would answer the muster order.
The legitimacy held by the Commander of the Knights of Ash, and the cause represented by the name Baldrick, were that great. Since Asherad, the first Northern King, it would not be wrong to say that everyone born in the north could be considered Asherad's descendant. Asherad was the one who had subdued the north, once little better than a demonic realm, and brought peace to it.
That was why Kyle did not rush.
The cause was on their side. If they combined the royal loyalists with every northern noble who had declared neutrality, they would far outnumber Duke Ehrenfeld and the lords under him. They had more than enough of a chance.
All that remained was to act.
Kyle rose from his seat. He fastened Yurian's sword, which had been resting against the desk, at his waist and headed outside.
Twenty wagons stood in the castle courtyard, already prepared. They were freight wagons packed full of grain and other dried rations. Walter had personally bought the food wagons outright from passing merchants, and the drivers hired from the city several days ago had each taken their places.
The escorting force, on the other hand, was not large. The members, including Hermann and Walter, straightened the moment Kyle appeared. The servants of House Falken, who had been helping prepare for departure, stood stiff with tension.
And there was Baron Falken's family, whom Kyle had met once before.
“G-Greetings to Hailen's last descendant...”
A frail-looking boy bowed deeply before Kyle. The family beside him lowered their heads as though they had agreed to it beforehand.
“Enough. That's far enough.”
“...”
“Raise your head.”
The boy cautiously lifted his head. Only then did the baron's family standing a step behind him raise their eyes and carefully glance at Kyle.
Unlike the stubborn former Baron Falken, the boy had clear eyes. He reminded Kyle of a curious young mage.
Had he not been the son the old baron had finally managed to have in his old age?
Kyle had heard that the boy, young enough to be his grandson, was intelligent but easily swayed by others. He could see it at a glance. There was not a trace of greed or ambition on that youthful face. The boy only kept watching Kyle's expression, trying not to offend him.
This might actually work out well.
“From this day forward, you are Baron Falken.”
Kyle finally spoke.
Though it had already been discussed beforehand, the boy was so startled that he bit his tongue.
“Y-Yes!”
“In the name of Kyle Baldrick, I guarantee it. No one shall take or revoke the rightful title of Baron Falken. In return, Baron Falken shall devote his loyalty to the Baldrick Royal Family. Do not yield to outside pressure, and do not surrender to despair. Do you swear it?”
“...I swear.”
The boy nodded faintly, his expression resolute.
Kyle turned his gaze to the side.
“Gerant.”
Gerant stood some distance away. Gerant was one of the most skilled and experienced members after Hermann and Walter.
“I'm counting on you.”
“...Can't someone else stay behind? Everyone's going to cut off Duke Ehrenfeld's head, and I'm supposed to stay here and watch?”
“No. And you won't be staying alone. There will be two of you.”
Ivar, who wore the same sullen expression as Gerant, let out a long sigh.
Kyle added when Gerant frowned.
“The more I think about it, the more certain I am this is right. There is no one but you I can entrust the fortress to.”
“Hmm...”
“And Ivar as well. You are both skilled with paperwork.”
There were currently eight Ash Knights remaining, excluding Kyle. Two of them would stay at the fortress. It was partly to prepare for a possible betrayal by House Falken, but more than that, it was to account for an invasion by the nearby lords under Duke Ehrenfeld.
Kyle had no intention of ever handing Falken Bridge to the enemy.
“If that's the case, it can't be helped.”
Gerant understood that well. That was why they reluctantly accepted Kyle's request.
“This happened because the others were idiots, so I suppose I have to bear the burden.”
The members who had been quietly mocking Gerant clamped their mouths shut. Gerant and Ivar snickered.
Kyle inspected the horse a servant had brought him, then looked around one last time.
Twenty freight wagons. Bewildered servants. The members waiting for his orders among them.
Kyle's gaze passed Hermann and Walter before stopping on Rudolf. Rudolf raised their brows at Kyle as if to say they were fine.
Mounting his horse, Kyle spoke as though issuing an order to them all.
“Let's go.”
* * *
After leaving the fortress, Kyle's party headed straight north.
Perhaps because March had passed and April had arrived, it was not unbearably cold despite their gradual move farther north.
Travel became easier as a result, including transporting the food. Twenty freight wagons were comparable to a fairly large trading convoy, yet they did not hinder them much. Ironically, that was because there were so few people in the procession. There were only eight knights and twenty drivers.
“Sir Rudolf, are you all right?”
“Yes. There is no problem, Lord Kyle.”
Kyle checked on Rudolf's condition from time to time. Rudolf repeatedly waved it off, seemingly overwhelmed by Kyle's consideration.
“If anything is wrong, tell me immediately.”
Their journey thus far had not been entirely smooth. Beasts and monsters came down from the mountains, and bandits seeking to plunder them attacked several times.
“How could I hold Lord Kyle back? I may look like this, but I am still active. It will take far more than this to bring me down.”
Each time, Rudolf and the Ash Knights dealt with them with ease. The knights' overwhelming martial strength was the greatest reason such a small procession could continue on. The seasoned knight was skilled enough to rival most Ash Knights. Rudolf had only been captured before because they could not overcome sheer numbers. That was the experience age brought.
“More importantly, how many troops did you say there were? Two thousand?”
Walter, who had been circling the wagons on patrol, approached Kyle and Rudolf. He pulled jerky from a pouch hanging from his saddle and chewed on it.
“Barring anything unexpected, that should be the number, Sir Walter. We may be able to gather more, but we need enough soldiers to defend our home territories as well.”
Rudolf answered in Kyle's place.
Walter trailed off.
“Two thousand...”
“...”
“Honestly, that is more than I expected. Sir Rudolf, do you think there is a chance of gathering more?”
“It is not impossible, but I would not hold out too much hope...”
“You heard them, Kyle. What if we can't even reach two thousand?”
Walter and Rudolf both looked at Kyle.
Kyle had been checking Hailen's map against the scenery before him to judge their location. He answered as though it were nothing.
“Numbers are not everything in victory or defeat.”
“Oh? So, like we did four years ago?”
“A guerrilla campaign against Duke Ehrenfeld would be possible, but I would rather prioritize persuading the lords who have declared neutrality.”
“Do you think those bastards will come over?”
“Now that there is a central figure, there is enough of a possibility. In the end, Duke Ehrenfeld's power is no more than a sandcastle built in haste.”
“That is true.”
“Public sentiment in Baldheim probably is not very good either, unless all the citizens who originally lived there have moved away together. There is also the matter of the tribute payment to the Empire.”
The best outcome would be to kill Duke Ehrenfeld himself. Once the head was gone, the forces of those who had betrayed them would collapse on their own, and the lords who had watched the situation and taken a neutral stance would submit of their own accord.
What mattered was not a frontal battle, but legitimacy.
“He will not come out of Baldheim anyway.”
Duke Ehrenfeld was not talented in battle. He was closer to a politician skilled in schemes and stratagems. That was clear from how he minimized his own losses during the Northern War before seizing real power after Hailen's fall.
There was no point in winning tactically if they lost strategically.
“It seems we are getting close to the gathering point.”
Kyle spoke as he examined the map.
Walter glanced at Kyle's hand and asked, “Was the agreed gathering point around here?”
“Yes. They said they would arrive beforehand and wait.”
“I hope there are more than we expected...”
Walter muttered anxiously.
Rudolf offered him a reassuring word.
“There will not be so few. The count has not simply sat idle all this time.”
“I would not want anything more than for Sir Rudolf's words to be true. Would you, Kyle?”
“It is better to always keep the worst in mind. That way, you will not be disappointed.”
“I was just saying it. You're no fun.”
The three traveled side by side, exchanging idle chatter, when someone on horseback suddenly approached from afar.
“Kyle!”
It was Hermann. He had returned from scouting ahead.
The procession led by Kyle came to a stop.
“What is it?”
“You were right.”
“Don't tell me...”
“It will be faster if you see it yourself.”
The four exchanged glances. The halted procession picked up speed.
Before long, a tall hill rose before them.
Kyle pulled on his reins without hesitation. The other members, including Rudolf, followed behind him. The twenty freight wagons rattled up the hill. Yellowed grass beneath their feet quivered in the wind. There was no longer any frost crunching underfoot.
Then the view changed.
“Ah...”
Someone let out a quiet gasp.
No one knew whether it had come from Kyle, or from someone beside him.
All they knew was that banners stood everywhere, rising as though to pierce the sky. The crests of each house fluttered powerfully in the wind. There were not merely one or two of them.
There were a great many.
And beneath them...
Thousands of soldiers stood in orderly ranks below the hill.
They were elite troops of the royal loyalist houses, including well-armed knights. At a glance, Kyle could see that a small number of noble houses that had declared neutrality were mixed among them as well. Their crests made it obvious.
After looking down at the sight from the hill for some time, Kyle slowly moved forward.
The halted procession began to advance once more.
The lords who had gathered under the muster order were mounted before their houses' banners. As Kyle drew near, they all dismounted at once.
“Greetings to the King of the North.”
Count Haska, standing at the front, knelt.
Almost at the same time, the other lords lowered themselves and paid their respects.
“Greetings to the King of the North.”
Their voices rang out one after another.
After the lords came the knights. After the knights, the soldiers knelt.
Before long, thousands of people had bowed their heads to Kyle.
As though welcoming the return of their king.
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