Chapter 17
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—The next morning.
The decision had been made. Most of the villagers chose to support Saran’s plan.
Well, it wasn’t exactly surprising. If someone asks you, “Do you want to die?” not many people would answer “Yes, I do.” We acted like there were options, but really, there weren’t any to begin with.
There were a few voices of dissent, of course. For example, the village chief’s son, Kent… which is to say, the next in line to be chief—was one of the main opponents. That said, even the current chief wasn’t particularly appointed by the lord. He only got the job because it was convenient. So if the place turned into a proper city, it was natural he’d lose his seat.
Then again, if someone’s against the idea just because they want to keep the chief’s chair—even when people’s lives are at stake—then they were never cut out to lead a community in the first place.
“So then, here’s our first task.”
Gathering us all together, Saran stated this with his usual blank expression.
“All members of Mercia are to head to Hirte the Dairy City.”
“And what about defending the village?”
“Fimia’s barrier will hold for the time being. If monsters capable of breaking through it attack, we wouldn’t make a difference even if we were here. I’ve already taken several precautions.”
Saran glanced toward the edge of the village, where some adventurer-looking men stood guard, and continued.
“I’ll leave behind some of the adventurers and mercenaries we brought. The mercenaries are under my employ—loyal retainers of House Zolark—so they’re skilled, and especially capable in retreat warfare.”
“I see. And? Why are all of us going to Hirte?”
“To speak face-to-face with Viscount Hirte. This land falls under his jurisdiction, after all.”
Only then did I realize where we actually were. It wasn’t like a bunch of random adventurers like me could fortify this place on a whim. If we were going to carry out large-scale development, we’d need the landowner’s permission.
“He wouldn’t want monsters flooding his territory either, I assume.”
“In that case, wouldn’t it be enough for just you, as a noble, to go?”
Asked Fimia, and Saran shook his head slightly. A subtle gesture that clearly meant “you don’t get it.” I’d known him long enough to read that.
“We need to lend the proposal some weight. Unfortunately, we’ve lost the banner of ‘Silhasta,’ our former national party—so we’ll need a new one to wave in its place.”
“So that’s why you’re bringing Yulg and me…?”
“Rolo as well. Rolo Mercia carries the ‘Versatile Mystic’ epithet, and is a well-known adventurer among the common people.”
Rolo blinked in surprise at being name-dropped so suddenly.
Now I get it. If a respected scholar like Saran brings along three title-holding adventurers and says he has a ‘proposal’ regarding the monster situation, the Lord of Hirte is bound to realize how serious it is. And the man himself is a noble son—Saran Zolark—already favored by the kingdom’s intellectual circles. His records and research would carry weight and credibility.
He’s planning to strong-arm the meeting with status and time pressure. Typical Saran.
Not my favorite approach, but very like him. Knowing him, he probably already has other pieces in motion behind the scenes. Otherwise, he couldn’t have gotten a party led by Albert certified as a national team in the first place.
“Any other questions?”
“Um, anything else we need to do?”
“I appreciate your initiative, but I’ll be assigning tasks at the proper time. For now, I’ll work you like a draft horse, Rolo Mercia.”
As always, his tone was blunt and condescending—but once things got moving, following his instructions was the quickest and safest bet. For now, we had no choice but to trust and follow.
“Well then, let’s head out. …Oh, wait. I suppose the leader should be the one to say that, shouldn’t he?”
“Don’t toss it to me after already saying it, damn it.”
With a sigh, I clapped my hands and turned to the group.
“Looks like that’s the plan. First stop: the dairy city. The horses and Gregre are already prepped. Time is of the essence—we’ll push the horses with Rolo’s enhancement magic and Fimia’s healing magic and make the whole run in a day. Everyone, I’m counting on you.”
Everyone nodded… and then Rolo gave a small chuckle.
“What is it, Rolo?”
“Nothing. Just… even while complaining, you’re still being a proper leader, Yulg.”
Fimia giggled at that, and even Saran turned his face away.
…You guys better remember this later.
♦
Despite not having sent word ahead, our audience with Viscount Hirte went surprisingly smoothly. Saran had probably greased the wheels beforehand.
“This is still in the proposal stage, but we’d like to develop Marhas into a frontier outpost for exploring the untamed lands.”
“But… there’s no precedent for that…”
“There is a precedent. Have you heard of a town called Yarge, out in the eastern continent?”
Saran’s calm tone steadily backed Viscount Hirte into a corner.
Donza Hirte, the lord of this remote region on the eastern edge of the kingdom, seemed to share the same temperament as his land—meekly enduring the onslaught of the shifty city-born noble in glasses.
“That place, known as an ‘exploration city,’ saw a huge increase in tax revenue thanks to an influx of adventurers. On top of that, the surrounding area has become quite prosperous.”
“R-Really…?”
“Most notably, it led to a station being built for the Transcontinental Railway in the middle of the wilderness.”
Saran’s words caused the viscount’s face to light up.
“The Transcontinental Railway, you say…!”
“Yes. Currently, you must travel to the neighboring country to board it, but if development here progresses, the route may extend into our own Saldin Kingdom.”
Ahh… What a devilish grin he’s wearing.
It’s not like what he’s saying is entirely false, but opening up those hazardous unexplored lands could take more than a hundred years, and he just lays it all out on a silver platter like it’s an easy win. I glanced to the side and saw Rolo had the same look I did.
Figured.
Fimia, on the other hand, smiled sweetly with her usual serene expression.
“—And the first station in our kingdom could very well be built right here in Hirte.”
Saran laid out the “sweet deal” like he was seducing a woman. And Viscount Hirte, much like a woman being wooed, wore a melting, enraptured look on his face.
…Yeah, this deal’s as good as done.
“Very well. I, Donza, shall give my full permission and support. It’s for the good of my people and the prosperity of my domain!”
“Excellent. We’d be honored to assist. These adventurers with me may be little known for now, but in Advante, their names are famous. With them leading the way, many others will brave the dangers of the untamed region.”
“Splendid! Ha ha ha!”
Viscount Hirte laughed in delight, while I sighed internally. Damn it, Saran, you’re using us like pawns again—and doing a damn good job of it.
“Well then, with your approval, I’ll have my father forward this matter to the Royal Assembly. We’ll move quickly. So…”
“I understand completely! I’ll dispatch men to Marhas at once. Should you require anything, simply let Donza know.”
“We’re most grateful for your cooperation. That will be all for today.”
Saran rose from his chair with a formal noble’s bow and looked toward us. We followed suit and stood up. Honestly, this felt like the most pointless use of my time in my entire life.
“Let’s go. Next up—Adventurer’s Guild, Merchant’s Guild, and the Carpenter’s Guild.”
Waving the letter of delegation from the viscount, the scheming glasses-wearing strategist curled his lips into a small, sly smile.
