Ch.125Upper Section (2)

“…?”

One of the scouts leading the vanguard sensed an unsettling presence and abruptly stopped in his tracks.

The scout beside him was about to ask what was wrong, but he too fell silent upon feeling the same ominous aura.

They exchanged intentions through glances and gestures.

‘Stop.’

‘I know, someone’s here.’

The footprints on the ground appeared unnaturally placed.

They had seen many footprints on their journey from Dijon to here, but those had all followed the path.

However, the footprints before them now ran perpendicular to the road.

These weren’t made by the light shoes of hunters or gatherers. Moreover, they showed no signs of weathering, indicating they were made very recently.

And when focusing not with eyes but with nose, there was a musty odor of unwashed bodies mixed with a slight metallic scent.

All these clues pointed to one thing: bandits.

‘I’ll keep walking naturally as if I haven’t noticed. You go back and alert the others.’

‘…Alright.’

Rather than panicking at this discovery, the scouts calmly decided to secretly inform the main group.

With evidence this close, it was safe to assume the merchant caravan had already entered bandit territory. The bandits were surely hiding among the numerous bushes, and making a scene now might create complications that would prevent this information from reaching the main group. Better to pretend ignorance while alerting the others.

Of course, this approach meant the caravan would venture deeper into bandit territory, but what of it? These bandits were just Carolingian swine who would be no match for people of Burgon—no, Lotharing.

……….

“Hiiieek!!”

“How disappointing.”

The rural baron’s plan had, predictably, failed spectacularly.

The baron’s 100 bandits—or rather, soldiers—scraped together from his domain were no match for Lotharing’s official merchant caravan, or more precisely, its armed merchant caravan.

The baron’s vassal had seen only 10 guards with the caravan and assumed that was the extent of their armed personnel, but this was a grave misconception.

Since the days of the Burgon Duchy, predecessor to the Lotharing Kingdom, merchants surrounded by enemies had been semi-forced to develop at least minimal, if not soldier-level, combat skills to venture beyond borders.

Moreover, this caravan included many merchants with military experience. They hadn’t served professionally for wages, but had been conscripted due to the numerous historical wars with neighboring countries. Their professional military training made them vastly superior to the 100 conscripts hastily gathered from villages.

Of course, no matter how skilled, merchants with military experience couldn’t provide military leadership—unless there happened to be someone in the caravan who could.

Lotharing military officers, with no wars to fight at home, had been joining merchant caravans as guards before the military academy opened, earning extra income while gaining practical experience. The result of these officers commanding the merchants was catastrophic for the bandits.

“What should we do with them? Slavery… is impossible since they’re not heathens.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to just kill them? Who knows what might happen if we let them go.”

“That’s right. They might return to banditry, and the local lord wouldn’t dare speak up if he has any sense.”

Facing the subdued bandits, the merchants showed various reactions. Some initially suggested enslaving them before hastily changing their words for fear of being reported, while others proposed killing them all as feeding and transporting them would be troublesome.

“Hmm… No, rather we should charge the lord for failing to maintain security— Wait, isn’t something strange here?”

The merchant who had been thinking of pinning the bandits’ crimes on the lord suddenly looked surprised, as if realizing something.

“Pardon?”

“Let’s say bandits flourish because the country has become incompetent. But even so, there’s no reason for bandits to be here. Look around.”

“…You’re right.”

The military officer, initially confused by this seemingly random comment, understood after surveying the surroundings.

This was complete countryside—hardly a place for bandits to operate.

Even if bandits targeted only the weak, those targets needed to possess something worth taking. The only merchants passing through here were official Lotharing caravans like theirs, crossing Caroling for political reasons.

There were two main possibilities:

First, these bandits were simply idiots who couldn’t tell good targets from bad.

Second… the locals, who originally had no intention of banditry, changed their minds upon seeing the wealthy caravan.

“You there.”

“P-please don’t kill me… I beg you…”

“Answer my questions truthfully and I won’t kill you. What bandit group are you from?”

“What?”

“Hmm… Then who incited you?”

“W-what…?”

“…You know something. Tell me everything you know.”

After briefly interrogating the trembling bandit, the military officer noticed the man thinking of someone after the second question, then pretending ignorance, confirming the latter possibility.

“I-I… don’t know anything… really—GURK…”

“We have plenty of men. You, I’ll ask you next.”

“Hiiieek…”

The officer, having slashed halfway through the hesitant bandit’s throat, pointed his sword at the next one.

This bandit, or rather, soldier disguised as a bandit, was too terrified to maintain his cover any longer.

……….

“…What did you say?”

I had been wondering what urgent news the messenger from the caravan sent to support the rebels brought… What?

“…They say they’ve gone beyond mere occupation to full conquest.”

The report from the caravan was shocking.

The lord had disguised soldiers as bandits to rob the caravan, but the caravan easily subdued them and, in retaliation, attacked and captured the lord’s castle through siege. The caravan, loaded with weapons intended for the rebels, had plenty of armaments.

And our greedy Scrooges, to compensate for damages incurred from the bandit attack and siege, completely stripped the nobleman of everything, down to the clothes on his back.

Yet the nobleman was so poor that he couldn’t possibly cover the caravan’s losses, so they decided to simply devour his domain. The nobleman and his family were beheaded on a hastily constructed scaffold, as per Lotharing tradition.

“These son of a…”

Civilians armed with weapons conducting a war of conquest? What is this, the East India Company?

Well aware they’d caused a major incident, the messenger’s letter included the signet ring symbolizing governance of the domain.

This wasn’t some beautiful story of merchants fulfilling their duty as subjects by offering conquered territory to their lord, but rather dumping their mess onto my responsibility, along with a thoroughly plundered domain they found too troublesome to manage.

These… these bastards…

I want to smash that signet ring right now, but it’s literally the symbol of governance, so that’s impossible. Besides, rejecting a domain already offered to me would look extremely bad.

“…For now, how have Caroling or the claimants reacted?”

“Due to physical distance limitations, we don’t know their reactions yet. It will take at least a few weeks to find out.”

“Hmm…”

I suppose I should plan while anticipating how they might respond.

Of course, I should exclude the possibility of anyone reacting positively, as that won’t happen.

……….

“Hehehehehe…”

“These crazy bastards…”

The reactions were positive.

Since that nobleman had been claiming neutrality, the claimants had no reason to protect him. Additionally, his power was so insignificant that no claimant chose to defend such a nobleman and risk worsening relations with Lotharing.

Of course, the Carolingian king was furious, but stuck in Lutetia and unable to leave, he took no meaningful action. He just expressed anger verbally.

Anyway, these reactions show one thing: I now effectively control that domain.

‘How should I use this…’

Since it’s an extremely poor area, there’s not much I can do on a large scale. Being an exclave, it’s doubtful I can properly project administrative power there.

Should I just give it to some unimportant retainer who wants a domain and tell them to live there? Since it’s in the center of Caroling, it’s awkward to do anything—wait, what?

‘The center?’

The domain I accidentally acquired, Bardet Barony, is located in the center of Caroling.

If one were to depart from there toward the claimants in the north, west, southeast, and toward Lutetia where the Carolingian king resides… hmm.

I think I can use this.