The Warrior’s Ballad

Translator: Willia

The western lands of the Empire had truly fine soil. The deep dark brown earth was rich in nutrients, and even the sunlight was warm, so that whatever one planted would grow well.

Grapes in particular grew abundantly, and the region was famous for its wine. Among them, the wine of the Marin region of the Basque Kingdom was renowned as having the finest taste in the Empire.

The wine was so delicious that Marin's wine was one of the king's main sources of income. There was even a saying that the Marin region was responsible for more than half of the royal treasury's finances. That was no exaggeration.

It was summer. The sunlight was warm, and when the wind blew now and then, it was the kind of weather that lifted one’s spirits.

The wheat in the fields was ripening into a golden hue, and the farmers and village women bent their backs, wholly absorbed in their grueling farm work.

They were people who worked while looking at the ground. That was their lifelong calling. A simple, modest life, without greed.

There was no such thing as change in their daily routine, and each day, and each year, and an entire lifetime flowed by in much the same way.

But then, as they worked, an alien sound reached their ears from afar. At first they paid it no mind, but it gradually grew louder.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!

Though it was not time for rest, farmers scattered throughout the fields straightened their backs. Then, before their eyes appeared a strange sight, as unfamiliar as the sound itself.

It was an army. A massive force marching in formation and keeping step was a sight rarely seen by those who had lived their whole lives in the countryside.

The soldiers walked with spears, billhooks, or halberds resting on their shoulders, packs slung on their backs, and here and there knights wearing chain mail and surcoats slowly guided their horses.

On the banners was a black cross on a white field, and at the center of the cross was a skull. That skull symbolized the patron saint Vilter, and the army was none other than the Order of the Steel Knights.

Because it was such an unfamiliar sight, the farmers were not even frightened. They merely stared blankly at the passing army with dazed and bewildered expressions.

If those people suddenly turned hostile, it would be nothing for the entire area to be laid waste, but lacking any sense of danger, the farmers only blinked their eyes.

“Steel! Knights! Forever! Victorious!”

“Steel! Knights! Forever! Victorious!”

When someone led the chant, the soldiers responded in unison. The sound was like thunder erupting without warning, and the farmers were startled. Only then did they begin to feel fear little by little.

“Karagosa is my home, my heart. The piety of the ancient saints dwells within my soul. With the blood of the heathens I shall cool my heated blade. I step onto the battlefield ready to die, so defeat does not exist. Sing of our fury. O Order of the Steel Knights, be eternal.”

In time with someone’s lead, the soldiers sang the song. The rhythm matched strangely well with their thud, thud, thudding footsteps.

It was a military song handed down from the Order of the Flame Knights long ago, adapted for the Order of the Steel Knights. Such songs gave soldiers a sense of unity, eased the fatigue of marching, and instilled a feeling of belonging.

No one particularly ordered it; it was just something they had always done.

As the song was ending, someone on horseback galloped along the roadside, clatter, clatter. What was truly astonishing was that the horse was a vivid red color. A few knights followed behind.

The one who rode from far in the rear all the way to the front was none other than Ricardt. After sweeping his gaze once over the surrounding terrain and the entire army, Ricardt reached the front again and reined in his horse.

Then he asked the nearby farmers.

“Is it correct that Marin’s vineyards lie ahead?”

At that, the farmer looked up at Ricardt, who wore a red silk surcoat and sat astride a red horse, with a completely bewildered expression.

To his eyes, Ricardt looked like someone living in another world. Or perhaps an angel descended from the heavens, bearing a blade of fire.

"Uh, um...... This is indeed Marin...... It's Crevond village...... There are vineyards everywhere......?"

“I mean the royal-owned estates.”

“Well, all the vineyards belong to the royal family…… especially the places that make wine. Azuelr has the largest winery. I hear that all the highest-quality grapes gather there to be made into wine. If you keep going straight along this road and then turn left, there will be a small hill, and that entire hill is the winery, so you will recognize it at once.”

“I understand. May your sweat bear fruit, farmer.”

“……Pardon?”

The farmer was even more bewildered by the refined greeting he had heard for the first time in his life.

But no answer came back, and Ricardt spurred his horse and rode ahead to the destination with a small escort.

The army followed after him. To Azuelr. Crevond village was left unharmed. Of course, the farmers had no idea how much danger they had been in.

The place where the Order of the Steel Knights stopped was below the hill the farmer had pointed out. The hill was somewhat fortified, because indeed, anywhere in the world where there was money, there had to be the power to protect it.

However, no matter how fortified it was, it could not compare to the tremendous fortresses of Sinatria.

That was because it was meant only to block bands of bandits or mounted raiders, not a fortress capable of stopping a proper army.

Moreover, no band of thieves would be insane enough to attack royal property, so there had never really been a need to defend it against an enemy.

Whether it was a fence or a wall was unclear, but the wall encircling the hill was only about chest height.

The entire garrison consisted of a single digit number of guards, and if an emergency arose, the workers at the winery would each take up weapons and fight.

Thus, the people at the winery were not much different from the farmers in their reaction. They merely looked down at the massive army swarming below the hill with stunned expressions.

They were simply dumbfounded. Why was such an army here? Because of that, no emergency alarm was raised.

Ricardt went not to a castle gate but to the main gate and spoke to the gatekeeper beyond it.

“Will you open the gate after seeing blood, or will you open it of your own accord?”

At that, the main gate let out a creak and opened of its own accord.

Ricardt rode his horse up the hill path. For a commander of an army, it could have been a somewhat dangerous act, but it was possible because he himself was strong.

The hill had been terraced into layers, each with its own division of labor. Selecting grapes, crushing them thoroughly, aging them, and such processes.

As Ricardt rode up the hill path and looked around, the winery employees all stared at him with vacant expressions.

At the top of the hill stood a manor, and that was where the head vintner responsible for the Azuelr winery lived with his family.

Since wine was the main source of income for the royal family, the vintner, as the head of a family that had served the royal family for generations, held a status nearly equal to that of a lord.

As Ricardt was riding up the hill path, just as expected, the vintner came rushing down in a panic, unable even to properly dress himself.

He was a man whose crown was completely bald, with hair remaining only near both ears. His clothes, however, were extremely fine, silk embroidered with delicate patterns.

“To, to enter here, you must have a, a purpose for your visit…… who might you be……”

He kept rolling his eyes, alternating his gaze between the Order of the Steel Knights below the hill and Ricardt.

“Forgive me for being unable to make prior contact, monsieur……”

“I am Geoffrey of the Azuelr family.”

Geoffrey de Azuelr. He was not merely someone who made wine, but a noble.

Ricardt nodded and spoke, still looking down at Geoffrey from atop his horse.

“I am Ricardt of the Caldebern Family from Stormhertz. At present, I lead the Order of the Steel Knights. Until recently, the Order of the Steel Knights was called the Order of the Flame Knights.”

“The Order of the Flame Knights?”

“That is correct. Therefore, as payment for the blood of our brothers of the knight order, bring out all the wine and wealth piled up in the warehouses. This is not a request, but a demand.”

His words were polite, but the content was not. It was an explicit threat and declaration of plunder, stated directly without any attempt to soften it.

“Th, th, that is, this winery is royal property.”

“And so?”

“Yes?”

“So what?”

“Yes?”

“The king of Basque placed an unjust charge upon a brother of our knight order and had him killed. Do you, Geoffrey, believe that act was justified? Then you must think we are children of demons. Shall I show you how real demons act?”

At that, Geoffrey jumped in shock and shook his head violently. As he did so, he waved his hands exaggeratedly.

“Ah, ah! No! No! I do not know politics! I have only made wine for generations, I do not know politics! I truly do not know what is said within the royal court!”

“Then stop your prattle and bring everything out. I hope you possess enough intelligence to understand that irritating me will bring you nothing good.”

Ricardt slightly furrowed his brow and spoke as if irritated.

Geoffrey was utterly dumbfounded and aggrieved, but there was no way out. As the army below the hill looked up toward the hill, it felt as though all of them were staring at him.

With no other choice, he had the winery employees scrape together everything, wine that had been aging since last year, from before that, and even treasure-like wine that had been aged for decades, bringing it all out.

On top of that, he also brought out all the money that was supposed to be offered to the royal family.

The expensive wine was contained in glass bottles, and most of it was sealed in oak barrels. Several soldiers of the Order of the Steel Knights swarmed together to move the cargo, loading it onto carts and wagons.

Geoffrey stared vacantly at the scene, then spoke.

“Th, then what am I supposed to do now?”

“About what?”

“It is supposed to be offered to the royal family……”

What was he expecting by asking Ricardt that? Ricardt thought it strange that such a person existed, but he could not entirely fail to understand Geoffrey’s stifled frustration.

“Very well. Then let us do this. I will write you a document, and it will at least serve as a minimal excuse.”

Ricardt wrote up a document for Geoffrey. The contents of the document were neither a contract nor anything of the sort, but a statement certifying that Ricardt had plundered him in a lawful manner and that Geoffrey had been in a state where resistance was utterly impossible.

What kind of lawfulness there could be in plunder was utterly baffling, but it seemed to provide some measure of comfort nonetheless. Geoffrey willingly signed the document.

And that document certifying that he had been lawfully plundered was sent to the Basque royal family.

The western part of the Empire, due to its regional characteristics of having few mountainous areas, was mostly flat terrain. Thus, while its defenses might be somewhat weaker than those of the central, northern, or eastern regions, it was more comfortable for everyday living.

The royal castle of the Basque Kingdom was the same. Commonly called the Water Mirror Palace, glossy, mirror-like jet-black marble was laid across the floor, reflecting whatever stood upon it so that it looked as if it were floating on water.

It was a beautiful, dreamlike place. However, the brows of King Leonar, seated upon the throne, were deeply furrowed.

In his forties, he still appeared to have no issues with his health, and judging only by his appearance, one did not feel any particular royal majesty. He seemed simply ordinary.

He was looking at a single document. The contents were simple, yet no matter how many times he read it, he could not understand it.

First of all, he had never heard of such a certificate existing in the world. A certificate of plunder, what kind of nonsense was that?

So he gave up on understanding the contents and instead looked at the very elegant handwriting in the signature line. It read, Ricardt von Caldebern.

After repeating Ricardt, Ricardt in his mind several times, the king set it aside to the side. Then he spoke.

“Tell me, Treasurer Odor. Did you not say that nothing would happen?”

The treasurer addressed by the king kept flicking his tongue as if his mouth were drying up. It was quite pitiful to see.

In fact, the Basque royal family knew everything. They knew that the Order of the Steel Knights had entered the Empire.

However, the force was too large and its combat strength outstanding, so they could not grasp how to respond. In the midst of that, the conclusion of the advisory council had been to observe for the time being.

“Th, that is, at the time it was known that internal strife had broken out, and therefore it was judged that in reality their forces would not be so large, so rather than provoking them unnecessarily……”

“But that is not the case, is it?”

King Leonar cut off the treasurer’s words and asked. His brows were still deeply furrowed.

He was not a king who casually executed people, but if one misspoke carelessly now, it would be difficult to avoid heavy responsibility.

Still, it was true that the treasurer had offered such an opinion, but the king was not without blame either. That was because it was what he wanted to hear. The treasurer had merely told the king what he wanted to hear.

What the king truly hoped for was that things would pass without incident. However, if the winery had been plundered, then it was a different matter. It was not that there had been no trouble, but that serious trouble had already occurred.

“If we cancel next year’s events and temporarily suspend the construction of temples, the finances should be covered somehow.”

“But if the winery had not been plundered, there would have been no need to cancel anything or suspend anything, right? Is that not so? Am I the foolish one?”

"N, no, Your Majesty."

While the treasurer was unable to escape his predicament, one man stepped forward. He was the military officer responsible for the kingdom’s defense.

“It is not too late even now. Summon the vassals. If we continue with nonresponse, even the vassals will be shaken.”

“But these fellows do not listen even in normal times. Will they really gather just because I tell them to? And if they do not gather properly, would that not damage my dignity even more?”

“If you had issued the summons when the knight order crossed the border, at least five thousand men would have gathered by now. If they safely cross the border and escape, and we merely watch as they turn the kingdom into a wasteland, our dignity will be even more damaged.”

“That is true, but……”

“It is late now, so outwardly maintain nonresponse, but issue the summons. Set the assembly point at the border and fight a decisive battle before they cross it. This is our land, and they will be greatly fatigued due to poor supply. If we fight a defensive battle, we can certainly repel them. Then those people, who have no country, will scatter and collapse, and you can suppress them step by step.”

As befitting his position as military officer, he seemed to have some knowledge of warfare, and he presented the king with a strategy.

In fact, from the beginning it had been the military officer who argued for fighting, but because the king had not accepted it, the king showed some discomfort.

The king’s advisory council consisted of the chancellor, the treasurer, the military officer, and others. Each had their own responsibilities, but when discussing affairs of state, they gave opinions regardless of their duties, and whether to accept them or not was decided by the king.

Having listened to the treasurer’s words and become entangled in trouble, King Leonar was in a foul mood.

He did not want the kingdom to become noisy and for great trouble to arise. He had suppressed the Order of the Flame Knights with the thought that since all the other countries were doing it, he could do it too.

King Leonard was cowardly and lacked the boldness to handle major affairs. If he had been an ordinary person, he would have lived an ordinary life, but as a king, he was not suited for the role. He was the kind of person who would have gotten by unremarkably in peaceful times.

Summoning vassals and commanding them was complicated, difficult, and mentally and physically exhausting work. So, to be honest, King Leonar simply did not want to do it.

Telling them to come, asking why they were not coming, threatening them, promising rewards if they came, coaxing and intimidating the vassals and barking orders at them was by no means easy.

It was no longer an age where people obeyed blindly just because the king spoke. Depending on the king’s personal ability and charisma, the vassals’ willingness to move differed. Unfortunately, King Leonar lacked such charisma.

Things were going smoothly enough now, so was it really necessary to do all that? The winery being plundered hurt deeply, but should he not just endure it once? If he stayed still, would it not just pass by?

However, he could not lay bare such inner thoughts before the advisory council.

But the advisory council were not fools either, so they all knew what the king was thinking. This bastard has no intention of fighting.

Therefore, the military officer did not pour out passionate arguments to persuade the king either. Surely the entire country would not be completely ruined, and the aftermath would not be his responsibility anyway.

They were not fools, but they were foolish. The affairs of the world are not easy, and above all, courage does not come from intelligence.

Thus, the royal advisory council reached no particular conclusion. Only frustrating time passed, until an unexpected figure resolved that frustration.

It was none other than Ricardt.

When it seemed he would simply pass by, he instead advanced toward the capital and sent a letter to the king.

The tone of the letter was polite, but the contents were not. Summed up simply, it was this. Hey, come out and kneel and apologize for killing our brother.

King Leonar, after receiving the letter, stared silently at Ricardt’s signature, and only then did he think this.

This is going a bit too far, isn't it......

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