Ch.186The Path to the Continent of Meridia (3)

“Captain. The commander and his officers have arrived.”

“Show them to the captain’s quarters.”

“Yes, sir.”

The voice tube closed, and the crew was busy preparing a long dining table with grilled atka mackerel, white bread, oatmeal with butter and cinnamon powder, and wine.

Since we had squeezed out our last coins for supplies in advance, we had enough to reach Meridia without touching the atka mackerel.

But that warship?

For whatever reason, they had failed to secure provisions and were now dependent on a single supply ship.

“Hehehe… How amusing.”

How exhilarating it is to hold someone else’s life in your hands!

If not for the blessing of the Sun, I might have received the blessing of Medina instead of Karil.

Simon sat calmly in his seat, grooming his beard, while I cleansed my palate with wine as we waited for the high-ranking officers of the Excelsior who would soon arrive.

Knock, knock!

“Captain? Your guests have arrived.”

“Show them in.”

At my command, the door opened and thirty-eight individuals filed into the room.

At the front was a two-star general wearing a tricorn hat, who introduced himself as “Wellington Cheshire” as he removed his hat.

“Thank you for inviting us to this dinner. I—”

“This gentleman is Viktor Walker, a Solar Knight Errant blessed by Nariakira Saburo, the Sun of Humanity.”

Simon introduced me on my behalf, and Major General Wellington tilted his head in slight confusion before nodding and taking his seat.

“Please be seated. It’s impolite to speak with food waiting. Let’s fill our stomachs first and then talk.”

At my words, Major General Wellington nodded, eagerly grabbed a piece of bread, tore it in half, and slathered it with butter using a butter knife.

Rough handling. Trembling hands. And poor table manners that left bread crumbs all over his mouth.

The other officers were no different.

A man wearing a colonel’s insignia had his eyes rolling back, burying his face so deep in his plate that cinnamon powder covered his nose bridge, while an older non-commissioned officer, probably a warrant officer, was tearing apart the atka mackerel with his hands and devouring it ravenously.

Meanwhile, Simon and I savored our meal elegantly, slowly, and leisurely, following aristocratic etiquette.

In truth, presenting such a meager menu as a “banquet” anywhere else would earn beatings even from beggars.

The only spice was cinnamon powder. The menu consisted merely of grilled fish, white bread with butter, and oatmeal.

But there’s a saying that hunger is the best sauce.

To those starving to death, even dog food would look like a feast.

The crowd before me was proving that quite well.

*

“Ahhhh….”

After their uncouth meal ended, the major general and his thirty-seven companions patted their stomachs as if they had finally been saved.

“Gae.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“The banquet is over. Have the dishes cleared.”

“Understood.”

At my command, four crew members entered the captain’s quarters and began stacking the dishes to take them back to the galley.

Interestingly, with each sound of dishes being cleared, the soldiers’ faces grew paler, as if they were just now realizing the rudeness they had committed.

As soldiers who should maintain dignity and face, they had eaten like common street thugs, slurping and smacking their lips with their noses buried in their plates. Before me, an aristocrat, they had no defense if I were to scold them.

“I… I…”

“Hmm?”

Major General Wellington, his face now pale, tried to say something to me but seemed unable to find the words.

Glug, glug…

Seeing his condition, Simon filled a glass with wine as if to drive in the wedge, and I used a gesture to pass it to Major General Wellington.

“Major General Wellington, you must be quite thirsty. After eating so heartily, your throat must be dry. Our quartermasters would be pleased to see plates cleaned so thoroughly.”

Naturally, it was customary for superiors to leave some food on their plates.

It was partly a consideration to share fine cuisine with those below them, and partly an indirect compliment to the host, suggesting that “you’ve provided so much that I’m too full to finish.”

And of course, since the officers the major general had brought weren’t so ignorant of such basic etiquette, they couldn’t bring themselves to look up.

Tremble, tremble…

The major general finally took the wine I offered with shaking hands and…

Gulp! Gulp!

Drank it down in one go.

When the glass was completely empty, Wellington sighed deeply, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and said to me:

“I apologize for my rudeness. I tried to mind my manners, but… my mind wouldn’t obey me.”

“I’ve experienced hunger myself, so I understand the pain well. There’s no need to worry about it.”

“I appreciate your understanding.”

Though brief, this exchange was enough to ease the atmosphere in the captain’s quarters.

Of course, “eased” didn’t mean “comfortable.”

“So, what supply problems led you to requisition a civilian airship?”

“That… I apologize. We thought this was our supply ship…”

“I assume you’ve heard that this ship had crashed in the past, and I salvaged it and made it my own.”

“…Yes.”

Major General Wellington hung his head again.

A major general would be at least division commander rank, so his submissive attitude suggested he had suffered some terrible misfortune.

“We’re not refusing to provide food. But why can’t I see any of your subordinate vessels? Surely you’re not going to tell me you were on patrol or reconnaissance with just a single battleship.”

“…My subordinate vessels were all destroyed. They were attacked by aerial monsters while docked on the ground for maintenance.”

“My goodness.”

“Griffons… drakes… even wyverns… Creatures that usually fight among themselves joined forces when we gathered to hunt them…!”

“Major General.”

As his voice began to rise with the mention of the attack, the elderly non-commissioned officer hastily restrained him.

Fortunately, Wellington composed himself, and I listened to the rest of his story.

“Our fleet consisted of thirty-one ships with the Excelsior as the flagship. Four cruisers, ten escort ships, and eleven destroyers.”

“Please continue.”

“Your Lordship may not know this, but… military vessels are so packed with equipment that they can’t carry much food. If there’s space, it’s more advantageous to load one more shell.”

I nodded slightly.

That’s why this airship boasts such tremendous transport capacity despite its size.

“Originally, twenty airships identical to this one followed us halfway, providing supplies. But they distributed all their supplies and returned to the homeland. We only had enough provisions to reach our destination, and when we arrived at the docking site and lowered the ships to the ground, we were attacked.”

“You had no time to resupply, I see.”

“…That’s right.”

The major general sighed softly.

“I… I allowed them to drink… This mission was partly for training new recruits, so there was a high proportion of new soldiers… I wanted to at least reduce their burden… But then… that…”

Major General Wellington couldn’t continue.

I could roughly picture the situation in my mind.

Flying monsters slaughtering new recruits who were sluggish from alcohol. Airships abandoned without crew. A battleship hastily taking off after barely gathering the subordinates…

Naturally, proper counterattacks were impossible, the formation was in disarray making proper command difficult… With all subordinate vessels lost, continuing the mission with a single ship would lead to annihilation at worst or a crash at best.

“My military career is over now…”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

But that was that, and this was this.

I had Simon gently persuade the major general, and eventually, the psychologically exhausted major general created military notes worth 1,000 gold coins on the spot, pledging his name.

They say rank is everything in the military, and that proved true.

“It was a pleasant transaction. I’ll have my men open the warehouse, so order your soldiers to take what they need.”

“…Thank you.”

The admiral’s back looked remarkably small as he returned to the Excelsior.

Having failed both in security and supply, he probably wouldn’t continue his military career.

I felt no particular sympathy. After all, doing exactly the opposite of what he had done would have made for an exemplary officer.

His chances were already burned, and second chances aren’t easily given.

In the captain’s quarters, watching as the dining table was cleared and replaced with tables and chairs, I conversed with Simon.

“What will happen to him? I don’t think it will end with just dismissal.”

“I’m not sure. Military thinking isn’t my domain. But as you said, he’s a commander who failed in both security and supply. He won’t face a pleasant fate.”

I nodded.

The massive battleship, with its boarding bridge retracted, heading toward what seemed like an execution ground, somehow looked remarkably undignified.

“Change course. Return to the atka mackerel fishing grounds and resume fishing.”

“Yes! Course change!”

And unlike him, we had enough supplies to return to catch more atka mackerel and then head to Meridia.

We sold 1,000 tons, and now we’ll add 600 more.

Isn’t this truly an easy world to make money in?