Chapter 49

The battle unfolded completely opposite to the previous day.

Graham's forces couldn't handle the frontal assault of the Black Knight, leading to the collapse of their center.

At the same time, the rear troops, floundering in the darkness summoned by Ian, lost their judgment and hindered the retreat of the front lines.

In short, command was impossible.

To put it in terms of a strategy game, it was a total morale collapse.

"Everyone for themselves!"

"Aaah! I want to live!"

Baron Talian's forces literally crushed Graham's army.

They shattered their forces, scattering them in all directions.

Once an army was split like this, there was almost no way to reassemble it.

It was typical for everyone to scatter, each fending for themselves.

It was strange in the case of the former Count's forces.

Thanks to Ian releasing birds to gather them, about 300 grouped together.

Elated by victory, the Baron's troops hunted down the fleeing enemies one by one.

Mercenaries were killed, and knights were captured for ransom.

"Ian."

Ian, who was watching the battlefield, was startled by Lucy suddenly jumping into his arms.

Lucy hugged Ian tightly, sobbing.

"We... we won."

Yes. We did win.

Ian swallowed his words and looked out over the battlefield.

It was a monumental first victory since becoming a wizard.

War is business.

The purpose of war is conquest, plunder, and the accumulation of wealth.

The concept that 'war was a terrible thing' formed after World Wars I and II is a modern notion.

In the fantasy-medieval era where Ian was active, war was nothing more than a means to make a huge amount of money.

Working to the bone in the fields barely pays anything.

Farming is essentially the same as gambling.

But killing people makes money???

Guys! You should try killing people too! It pays!

That's right.

War in this era is like a real RPG game where you hunt human mobs.

The existence of classes like knights, clerics, and wizards alone should tell you it's an RPG.

But in a place where killing people and earning money, leveling up, and accumulating achievements...

Saying "Murder is bad. Robbery is bad."

Would that make sense?

"Don't you want to level up?"

"Don't you want to make money?"

That's the kind of response you'd get.

You killed a mob (person).

What's the next thing to do?

Naturally, looting.

Ian found soldiers obsessed with looting as he walked through the battlefield.

They searched the bodies for anything valuable.

This is how mercenaries accumulate their assets.

In a way, one could say they wield weapons and kill people for this purpose.

Just to lay hands on something shiny, beautiful, and desirable...

Maybe that's what living is all about.

To satisfy greed, it's about constantly consuming.

"..."

Ian wandered the battlefield, perhaps hoping to discover the mysteries of death.

But the mystery he sought was nowhere to be seen, only greedy soldiers sprawled everywhere.

'With so many corpses around, why can't I see the mystery of death?'

Ian furrowed his brows and looked around.

He felt nostalgic for the days he learned magic under Eredith.

Back then, Eredith introduced him to the best ways to hear their voices.

If Ian had tried to understand the mysteries on his own, who knows what foolish things he might have done.

'I don't understand.'

He thought he might learn necromancy here.

But simply wandering a battlefield full of corpses was not enough.

What should he do?

Dissect a corpse?

Sleep in a grave with a corpse? Or...

Ian shook his head.

It would be much faster to meet a necromancer during his travels and ask directly.

If Eredith knew what Ian was thinking, she would have been speechless.

You know, there are people who spend months trying, right?

And here was Ian, thinking he could grasp necromancy just by scanning a battlefield once.

Ian had become so accustomed to easy gains that he had lost his conscience.

Leaving the looting mercenaries behind, Ian returned to Lucy's mansion.

The Talian Hall was a large log house.

'Wow... what a majestic... log house.'

Fancy corridors?

Chandeliers made of glass?

That kind of high-end interior could only be seen in 17th-century French palaces.

Baron Talian's mansion was typical for a noble's house.

Hunting trophies of beheaded deer and wild interiors with animal skins hung as curtains instead of fabric ones.

The carpet on the floor was exactly the kind of carpet people threatened to make out of feline animals, saying, 'I'll turn you into a carpet!'

It meant it was made of whole fur.

"Welcome! Ian!"

Lucy, wearing a pointed hat, ran to greet Ian.

That damned hat had been put away during their travels, but as soon as she became Baron Talian, she brought it back out.

Does she actually think that hat looks good?

"How does it feel to see Talian Hall in person?"

Lucy shouted, clearly very excited, thinking her home was very well decorated.

She wasn't wrong.

By the aesthetic standards of a medieval fantasy world, Talian Hall would score over 80 out of 100.

The fact that the house was overflowing with such trash... no, animal by-products, was evident.

Wow! Deer heads! Animal skins!

How much hunting did they do to collect so much!

The master of the house must be a powerful person who could go hunting as easily as eating!

That was the impression.

Baron Kaltz's castle in Riverville was less opulent.

It felt more like a fortress built for defense.

"Uh... yeah. It's nice."

Ian praised it half-heartedly.

Unless one had been shot in the head, there was no way this dark and gloomy interior could look nice.

Unless you were a death metal fanatic or aspired to be a taxidermist...

No matter how noble, how impressive could a house built with medieval economic resources really be?

To Ian, who had been a modern person, it was merely trivial.

Well, it was exotic, if anything.

"How are things going?"

When Ian asked about her well-being, Lucy chattered away brightly.

"Really good! First, I met with the priest to get the title succession, and I also checked the property list."

In small domains like a barony, it was typical for a priest to handle administration.

The [title succession] Lucy mentioned meant not that she got permission from the priest, but that she had documented, 'I am the Baron now!'

Having become the Baron, Lucy also confirmed the property list of [Baron Talian's domain] written in the documents.

This property list was a mix of documents written hundreds of years ago and some written just a few months ago, all jumbled together.

More than half were things 'borrowed,' but considered Talian's.

People gulp down things borrowed from friends just a few months ago all the time.

What about something borrowed 200 years ago?

How do you return something borrowed 200 years ago?

By that point, it's basically yours.

But there is always someone who unearths documents like '200 years ago, lent a frying pan to Baron Talian' and comes asking for it back.

From the Baron's perspective, it's 'We've been using this for 200 years, why is it yours?'

From the lender's perspective, it's 'We came to get back what we lent, why is it yours?'

That's how wars start.

Sneaky people would flip their eyes over finding such documents to [justify war].

"What about Graham?"

"...We're holding him. He'll be executed in a few days. Ian, if you want to watch, you can."

Oh. Medieval-style execution.

Ian shook his head vehemently.

For traitors, public execution was the norm.

It served as a warning.

"Diketo will return after the victory ceremony."

Actually, Diketo was in a very urgent situation.

The Count had died in battle.

That sentence alone was enough to explain the situation.

But to the rest of those bastards... not at all.

They would scratch their bellies and chuckle,

'Oh dear. The Count's dead? That's too bad~'

Why?

Because he's not my Lord!

Only a few knights, including Diketo, who were close enough to be called vassals, had a deep relationship with him.

The rest were relatively new to the family.

No matter how urgent Diketo felt, everyone else was looking forward to enjoying the victory banquet.

So Diketo had to join the banquet with tears in his eyes.

"Going back?"

"Yeah."

Ian found it a bit odd.

Wouldn't it be hard to come back if he just left like that?

No matter how much the Count pitied Lucy, he wouldn't have raised an army and thrown money around just out of sympathy.

There must have been something he wanted from this war...

Wouldn't it have been better for him to obtain that from Lucy and then leave?

"Lucy. Did you agree on anything with the Count?"

"Agree on something?"

"Like, in exchange for his help, you promised him something..."

Lucy, with her uniquely clueless expression, tilted her head.

"Nothing like that?"

"...Really?"

"Yeah. Really."

Really nothing?

Ian was baffled, but there truly was nothing.

Well, the original plan might have been to create an undeniable atmosphere after winning and then extort various things from Lucy, but...

The Count had died...

Regretting in the afterlife that he should have spoken sooner was futile.

What can be done about it now?

It was the Count's fault for not setting conditions beforehand in his attempt to maintain dignity in front of his niece.

Thus, the Count's people couldn't cause trouble in Talian's domain either.

"Lucky, aren't you."

Ian nodded to himself.

To Ian, Lucy was a born winner.

Someone who succeeds at whatever she does.

Well, an owner of such luck.

It's hard to say it was a repayment, but taking care of the mercenaries' meals and distributing spoils to the knights could be considered as such.

"You'll come to the banquet, right?"

"Of course."

"Then I'll see you at the banquet hall!"

Lucy, with many things still to handle, couldn't spare much time.

Even meeting Ian was squeezed into her busy schedule.

Understanding her situation, Ian once again wandered around aimlessly.

Having some free time for a few days, Ian fell into a rare serious contemplation.

"What really is a wizard...?"

A converser with the mysterious.

A seeker of mysteries.

That was the wizard Ian knew.

Up until now, he had been studying under Eredith and, by chance, talking with mysteries to build his achievements, but...

Now that he had some free time, Ian started to doubt the path he was on.

Is this the right way to train?

Perhaps a seeker of mysteries needed more extreme methods...

"I'm not sure."

Ian, a novice wizard, still found it overwhelming to forge his own future.

What Ian needed was more experience.

Now he vaguely understood why Eredith had recommended traveling to him.

"Oh! The wizard has arrived!"

"Ian Raven! Come here and sit!"

Ian laughed seeing the knights calling for him.

He still had so much to learn about this world...

But little by little, Ian felt like he was becoming a part of this world.

"Really, becoming a Black Knight and that's all you can eat?"

"Eat up! Eat up!"

The Baron's banquet hall... but it felt more like an outdoor barbecue.

It lacked that epic feeling.

Still, being a noble's banquet, the fact that peasants were mobilized to serve made it different from ordinary banquets.

"..."

Belenka, who was already there, stared at the lump of meat in front of her as if she was about to kill it.

"What are you doing over there?"

"Hmm. I have to eat all of this. But I'm so full I can't eat anymore."

The knights, having witnessed Belenka's feats, respectfully loaded her plate with meat.

With a dozen knights taking turns, the amount became enormous.

Belenka wasn't a competitive eating YouTuber; there was no way she could finish a mountain of meat by herself.

"Hey, hey. You're not saying you can't eat the food I'm offering, are you?"

"Come on, Black Knight! Try a bite of this too!"

"..."

With the food pile growing larger, Belenka tightly closed her eyes.

Ian tilted his head.

Colleagues persistently offering unwanted food...

Where had he seen that before?

It was just like a company dinner.

Ah!

A knight's banquet is just like a company dinner!

"Eat a lot. You know the main character always gets the most attention, right?"

"Ah. Then, Ian, maybe you could help..."

"Ah. I'm good. It smells gamey. Can't eat it. Why don't they season it with pepper or something? What kind of barbecue is just meat spun around the fire?"

Belenka looked at Ian with a resentful expression, but Ian just patted her on the shoulder.

No one dared to offer Ian, of all people, medieval-style barbecue recklessly.

It was nice being a wizard!