Ch.121121. Estate (4)

In truth, I never intended to spare their lives from the beginning.

From my perspective, every action they’ve committed thus far—whether viewed through a modern or medieval lens—deserves death.

I’ll say it again: leading armed forces onto someone else’s private property and establishing a camp is essentially no different from a declaration of war, regardless of the era.

Since this fact remains unchanged across all time periods, I had even positioned Corin at a distance, ready to attack if necessary.

But when this so-called knight, a nobleman, fell to his knees and begged to save his soldiers, I was impressed by his willingness to sacrifice his honor for something more important. I decided to at least hear what he had to say.

For a professional knight who doesn’t double as a lord, reputation and honor are essentially intangible assets. They serve as credentials to appeal to those with the capital to hire knights or to lords. Moreover, since a knight’s primary duty involves wielding weapons and fighting, without such honor, their motivation would inevitably decline.

Yet he sold off his honor and reputation without hesitation, presumably to save his subordinates. Considering his ransom value, he as a knight could have found ways to secure his own release, but surrendering immediately was not a thought just anyone could entertain in this society where the class system still prevails.

“Explain.”

“…?”

“State your purpose.”

So when I implicitly offered him one last chance and demanded an explanation, the dumbfounded knight finally opened his mouth and began explaining his and his soldiers’ circumstances.

“…Hmph, heh.”

And… as I listened to the knight’s explanation, I couldn’t suppress a chuckle that escaped my lips at the absurdity of it all.

According to him, this knight named Enerval Gatrang belongs to the nearby Barony of Lefante.

The purpose for which they brought troops to occupy this empty land (my estate, as it appeared to them) was, as I had suspected, to attack and conquer the nearby Barony of Dren.

Recently, the Barony of Lefante had experienced a string of good fortune, boosting their confidence. It wouldn’t be particularly strange for a typical lord of this era to be consumed by ambition and embark on a conquest.

This knight Enerval Gatrang must have been in considerable favor with Baron Lefante, as he had been entrusted with leading a noticeably well-equipped force.

One might wonder how this demonstrates favor, but in a world where commanders occasionally betray their lords and flee with troops—not common but not unheard of—being trusted with forces is indeed evidence of favor.

Well, up to this point, the story was somewhat unpleasant but still comprehensible.

It happens to involve the Barony of Dren, with which I have connections, but in this world, powerful domains occasionally swallowing weaker ones is not uncommon, though not frequent either.

In regions close to the capital, the complex histories and secret affairs of noble houses prevent reckless conquest wars, substituting them with duels called domain battles. But remote provincial domains are different.

Those distant from central politics receive no interference but also lack connections. Thus, if domains fight and one consumes another, the central authority simply turns a blind eye as long as no major incident occurs.

So my complicated feelings stem only from knowing Baron Dren; otherwise, whether worldly humans fight among themselves is largely irrelevant to me.

Moreover, even these intruders in my estate wouldn’t concern me much if they left in due time.

But what drew the chuckle from my lips was something else entirely.

“So, they’re after the forest, is that it?”

“Y-yes! My lord, Baron Lefante—”

“Haaa… Hmm? What are you doing? Continue your explanation.”

“Ah, yes…!!”

The ambitious Baron Lefante aimed to occupy all territories near his domain and claim them as his own, and among these targeted territories was our Aleinos Forest.

I wondered how this madman dared to set his sights on a forest named “Aleinos,” but after some thought, it made sense.

The name “Aleinos” had been passed down in this region almost as legend, and the lord probably thought the forest was named after this “legend.”

Especially in this medieval fantasy world, even seemingly trivial knowledge is often a privilege and asset, resulting in particularly strong information asymmetry.

To illustrate how severe this is, Baron Lefante apparently doesn’t even know what a druid is.

One might wonder how a lord could be ignorant about druids, but ignorance about magic and its practitioners is common sense among non-mages in this world.

With few exceptions—those who frequently deal with mages—people absurdly lump all magic users together as “wizards.”

And the real reason behind this decision was probably… arrogance, I suspect.

According to this knight, they command over ten knights and have trained a regular army of 1,000 men. For people accustomed to warfare in this era, it would be strange not to feel pride swelling.

Anyway, I learned the inside story of the situation from this knight, and… in the midst of it, I voiced a question that suddenly occurred to me.

“Enerval Gatrang. There’s something I want to ask you.”

“…Command me.”

“I sense numerous life signatures near the forest by this encampment. Are they your subordinates?”

“What? N-no. No! The forces I lead are all here!”

“…What?”

I had assumed the life forces I sensed beyond the forest belonged to Enerval’s or Baron Lefante’s troops, but when Enerval himself denied my assumption, I was confused.

Judging by his breathing and heartbeat, he doesn’t appear to be lying. Then what are these humans, easily numbering over a hundred…?

‘Squeakers, deploy!’

So I released about 500 squeakers hidden in my shadow to investigate their identity, and after just a few minutes, the answer came back through the hive mind of the squeakers.

“Humans! Humans! Humans with shooting-weapons and nets!”

“…Huh?”

The squeakers’ report sounded strange to me.

Shooting weapons—presumably projectile weapons like bows or crossbows—are common enough to overlook. Especially in the Frankish Kingdom, where gunpowder weapons are prohibitively expensive, bows and crossbows remain active service weapons.

But nets are an entirely different matter.

In this world where armies primarily aim to kill rather than capture enemies, the use of nets is peculiar. Unless they’re weapons that shoot grid-like wires to slice enemies, nets that can be silenced by a single strike from an aura-imbued sword could never be military weapons.

Thus, I could only furrow my brow as I guessed their identity.

Undoubtedly, they must be poacher-bandits. Perhaps they flocked here upon hearing that an abandoned estate lay unattended?

Even among the bandits of this world, there exists a hierarchy of power, which has surprisingly established itself as common sense.

The weakest bandits are thought to be peasants wielding farming tools, while the strongest are considered to be poachers.

The reason poachers are strong in this world is obviously because their prey—magical beasts—are powerful.

The value of magical beast by-products or the beasts themselves is so substantial that the greedy risk their lives, creating an environment where only the strong survive.

Of course, they’re only strong for bandits; they’re still just bandits after all.

As I kindled cold anger and cynicism to sweep them all away, a brilliant idea suddenly occurred to me, and I addressed the still-frightened Enerval.

“Knight Enerval Gatrang. I have an order for you.”

“What? …Yes! Please speak!”

“Your crimes and those of your subordinates deserve death, but I was moved by your willingness to sacrifice your honor for your men, so I’ll tell you this.”

“…Yes, command me.”

“Follow me and exterminate the parasites that have infiltrated the estate. Your fate will be decided afterward.”

“…I shall obey.”

For Enerval Gatrang, who had already sacrificed his honor to save his subordinates, there was no way he could refuse this.