WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: HidingTurtle
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ The Wandering Knight and the Moving Castle ◈
Chapter 48: Monsters and Pirates (5)
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“Bleurgh.”
“Cough! Cough!”
“Uweegh.”
The pirates who had surrendered and barely reached the riverbank vomited up the water they had swallowed. Swept along by a sinking ship while wearing armor, they had been unable to swim properly.
The waiting defenders mercilessly bound them. Perhaps it was a tribal custom, but every pirate wore their hair long, making it the perfect handle.
“Aaargh! My hair! My haaair!”
“I can walk on my own!”
The guards and mercenaries grabbed the pirates roughly by their hair and dragged them ashore.
Twannng!
“Argh!”
Pirates who refused to surrender were struck by bolts and floated in the river. Even the fishing boats they had mocked were faster than exhausted, injured people trying to swim.
“There’s another one over there. Bring the boat around right away.”
The fishermen who had volunteered for the operation rowed toward a drifting pirate. Having handled boats for decades, their skills were no worse than the pirates’.
“You cowards! Is it fun killing people who can’t fight back?”
“Yeah, it’s really fun. And you’re not exactly in a position to say that, are you?”
The mercenaries stared at the struggling pirates in disbelief. They knew these bastards had no conscience, but this was too much.
The pirates knew escape was impossible, yet they had no choice but to try.
If caught pirating, hanging was the standard punishment. If they were lucky, their lungs would rot in a hellish mine, or they would row on a slave ship until their joints wore away.
“S-spare me! I can’t swim!”
One pirate raised both hands and begged.
Twannng!
The pirate immediately clutched at their pierced throat and plunged face-first into the water.
“You should say you surrender, not ask to be spared.”
Outside battle, mercenaries loved free alcohol and gambling. In battle, they enjoyed putting down helpless enemies like this.
Their work constantly put their lives on the line, so stress naturally built up. Opportunities to vent it so thoroughly were rare.
It could be called cruel and barbaric in some ways. Yet this was also part of what mercenaries were. Eugene understood the stress of battle, so he overlooked this much.
“Surrender! We surrender!”
With no hope left, the pirates gave up everything. Their last hope, the far side of the river, was also blocked by troops who had camped there in wait.
“Any of you dual nobles? I swear on my honor that you’ll be kept safe until a ransom is paid.”
Eugene asked the half-dead pirates, but none answered.
“There are nobles on the Inland Sea who raid while commanding large ships. Their lordly families have built wealth through piracy for generations. But if they’re the sort who raid villages along a river, isn’t it obvious what they are?”
“That’s true.”
At the scribe’s words, Eugene swallowed his disappointment. Having once tasted gold from a ransom, he now checked a captive’s status first whenever he took prisoners.
“What will you do with those who surrendered? There are no slave traders passing through this area.”
The pirates trembled as the scribe subtly suggested execution.
“It’d be better to use them more efficiently than simply killing them.”
Eugene smiled coldly. After hearing from refugees from the upper villages about the pirates’ atrocities, he could no longer see them as fellow human beings.
Soon, wooden posts were raised beside the Bugbear’s head in the village square. High-ranking pirates, including the chief and navigators, were stripped naked and tied down tightly.
“You bastards cursed by heaven!”
“You sons of bitches! Give me back my husband!”
Driven by vengeance for their families and what had been stolen from them, the villagers hurled stones.
“Aaargh!”
“Just kill me! Please!”
The pirates screamed as their bodies were battered, but they would not die quickly. Fishing nets covered their heads.
It was the work of fishermen whose anger had not yet faded. Even the mercenaries could not help admiring their decision to put rotten fish inside.
* * *
Back at the manor, Eugene stripped to the waist and lay face-down on the bed. A dull ache ran through the muscles of his right arm.
Homi climbed onto his lower back. Her proportions were excellent, so she was light for someone so tall.
Rub, rub.
With oil on her hands, she carefully massaged her lord’s right arm and shoulder.
Press. Press.
Her hands were larger than those of most women, but her fingers were slender and strong. They gave his knotted muscles both delicate and firm pressure.
“I feel alive again. Thanks.”
“♪♪~”
Homi hummed as her plump tail slipped out of her control.
Tap! Tap!
It smacked Eugene’s thigh as he lay facedown. The mage was the only one who looked displeased.
“I acknowledge that you possess prodigious strength, but relying too much on your body is also a problem.”
His joints and ligaments were fine, but his muscles had been overloaded. He had thrown using only his dominant right arm because accurate aim was necessary.
“If you had thrown a few more times, you might have injured your muscles.”
“I stopped when I started to feel the muscle fibers straining.”
“Not because you had destroyed all the ships?”
“I couldn’t risk letting any escape. If they fled in fear, catching them again would have become troublesome.”
Wiping them out at once had been the best choice to prevent word of what had happened from spreading across the Inland Sea.
“Bandits and pirates sprout like weeds. You have done more than your share by subjugating the monsters, so there’s no need to injure yourself by stepping in personally.”
“Understood. I’ll be more careful from now on.”
It sounded almost like nagging, but Eugene did not dislike it at all. If anything, it even felt comforting.
“Homi, that’s enough. Get down now.”
Varda stopped the massage and wrapped Eugene’s arm and shoulder in broad green leaves like pumpkin leaves. She intertwined the stems and tied a knot, making them constrict firmly like natural bandages.
“What is this?”
Instead of answering, Varda chanted a spell.
“O life that circulates. Give your vitality to another.”
“!”
Eugene felt the leaves grow cold and cling to his skin. The dull pain in his arm quickly faded.
“The leaves will sacrifice their own lives to hasten your recovery.”
‘A medieval magical pain relief patch.’
Eugene thanked Varda.
Having a Squire and mage who served him out of loyalty or friendship was one of the greatest joys a knight could have.
* * *
While Eugene was being treated, the guards extracted information from the captives.
“It seems they had no other companions. They were trying for one last score before winter and got caught properly.”
The interrogation must have been harsh, as bloodstains marked even the reporting scribe’s clothes.
“Are there fools like this on every river?”
“For the most part, yes. There are over a hundred pirate groups on the Inland Sea if you count the smaller tribes.”
“There are far too many pirates, no matter how vast the Inland Sea is.”
“Strictly speaking, everyone living on the Inland Sea changes professions whenever the chance arises. Fishermen, merchants, pirates, smugglers. They’ll switch occupations at any time.”
They were constantly wiped out, formed, and split apart, so tracking their numbers was meaningless.
“Then we can’t leave with peace of mind. Won’t new pirates appear again?”
“Even pirates have business etiquette among themselves. This stretch of river belonged to the ones you destroyed. It will be safe for at least three years before others move in.”
That was enough. Eugene could not guard this place forever.
A few days later, after completing repairs and replenishing supplies, Eugene’s unit left Richwood.
“Thank you, mercenaries!”
“They’re calling us mercenaries. Heh heh.”
The fishermen who had handled the boats waved their arms, while the village children hopped up and down to see them off. Even the rough mercenaries felt their hearts warm.
“I’ll definitely come back! Wait for me!”
A mercenary who had fallen for a village girl exchanged determined looks with her. It happened often with newcomers, but he still had time left on his contract and had to return for now.
“Seriously? We worked hard to train you, and now you’re running off like this?”
“I-I’m sorry.”
Several veteran mercenaries spoke as if scolding the newcomer, but their expressions were gentle.
“Forget it, idiot. Quitting mercenary work and settling down like this is the best choice you can make.”
“You lucky bastard.”
Making a living by the sword offered a chance at sudden wealth, but it was dangerous and the future was uncertain.
Settling down when the opportunity arose was the right choice. By marrying into the village and becoming one of them, he would avoid the locals’ hostility toward outsiders. It was perfect.
Every mercenary walked lightly on the road back. They had completed their mission without losing a single person, and their strength was intact after staying in the village.
They had already sent a homing pigeon ahead, so word of the completed mission would soon arrive.
* * *
House Duran offered peace negotiations along with substantial compensation, but Count Morad rejected them outright.
“You decided when this war began, but we will decide when it ends.”
“My lord, with this much money, would it not be better to accept and settle matters amicably?”
The amount was far greater than expected, so Timothy hoped for a truce.
“If people come to believe they can settle matters with money after shedding our blood, their fear of us will also weaken.”
“But we cannot bring them to complete ruin either.”
House Duran was not some minor family ruling over only a few hundred people. They were a power even the Emperor had to consider carefully when forming alliances.
A great noble house like that would never truly be destroyed. They would have to face one another for many years to come, even if Roman itself fell.
“We may not be able to destroy them, but we should at least cut off a few fingers. Fifty years ago, those bastards did not even dare meet our eyes.”
The previous heads of House Morad had personalities similar to Benjamin’s. Yet the former count had been so kind that people considered him soft, and those who took House Morad lightly had sprung up like mushrooms.
Had the current count not succeeded as head of the house, House Duran would not have proposed peace negotiations. They would have ravaged House Morad’s fief to take even more.
“There will be no truce until we receive double the price of our blood.”
With Count Morad’s declaration, two armies set out, led by Timothy and Roxanne respectively.
Timothy had inherited fiefs of his own, so he mobilized a personal army. Numerous vassals and knights seeking to gain favor with the heir also joined, forming a powerful elite force.
Roxanne, the second child, had no faction of her own, so the count supported her by hiring mercenaries.
‘Sir Eugene has already completed his mission?’
Upon receiving the news, the siblings both sent requests for Eugene to join their armies.
“They’re calling for me the moment I finish one job.”
Eugene, caught between them, could only feel troubled.
“Does that not show how highly they value you? Count Morad likely did not expect you to finish so quickly either.”
“Either way, I think I must join Timothy or Roxanne on one of their expeditions.”
“You could return to Goldhill and rest. Do you dislike that option?”
It was tempting, but Eugene shook his head.
“It would be best to make them properly indebted to me while I have the chance. Subjugating monsters in the forest feels a little insufficient to earn a fief.”
If he also served in this war, it would be enough.
“A good decision. The eldest son and eldest daughter of the house are going to war, so you will likely serve at their side rather than lead from the front.”
“Hmm.”
Logically, following Timothy was the right choice. Whether he was incompetent or personally unpleasant, he was still the heir.
“You seem to want to join Roxanne’s army.”
“Was it that obvious? More precisely, I don’t want to be with Timothy.”
During his time as a guest, Eugene had gathered information on the count and the count’s two children.
Roxanne was a proven knight with excellent martial skill and leadership, and she had led several battles to victory.
Timothy, on the other hand, was a complete spectacle. He was stupid but hardworking, with a strong sense of pride, the worst possible combination.
“Then there is nothing to consider. Join Roxanne.”
“Will there not be consequences if I ignore Timothy’s invitation? He is the heir, after all.”
“You can make an excuse. Say Roxanne’s letter arrived first and you had already sent a reply.”
“Unless he’s an idiot, would such an obvious excuse work?”
Varda calmly nodded.
“It will. If the other party is Timothy.”
“...”
“Of course, that alone will not be enough. Offer an appropriate bribe and express your regrets.”
Having been active in Roman for a long time, Varda knew Timothy well.
“He is cowardly and incompetent, yet greedy for talented people. He will never turn you into an enemy. If you give him a pretext, he will convince himself that all is well and let it go.”
“Count Morad must have many worries with someone like that as his heir.”
“What can he do? Breaking the custom that the firstborn inherits is how all disputes begin.”
After thinking for a while, Eugene decided to join Roxanne.
“You have thought well. Count Morad is still in the prime of life. There is a long time before the heir inherits.”
“Timothy already has many capable retainers at his side. Even if I went, I would have little to gain.”
People remembered those who helped them when they were struggling and lacking. As long as the count watched from behind, Eugene did not need to worry about his reward.
Footnotes:
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