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Road to the Crown

Political marriage, war taxes, subsidies, a tribute... All those terms sound nice when one juggles them from behind the screen of his trusty computer! Junk food? Check. Sugary drinks that will cause me diabetes? Check. Two weeks of leave from the work? Check. A fresh copy of the newly released game finishing downloading as I'm going back from the grocery store? Check. Oops! My emotions got better to me, and I tripped on the stairs. I'm so silly! Then... Why the hell am I kneeling in a throne room, watching the marriage and coronation ceremony of the King, dressed in the noble robes with the game itself only flashing in the corner of my eyes? Discord link: https://discord.gg/pJTVGZZ

MotivatedSloth · Lịch sử
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335 Chs

An incident in the Tavern

"Drink! Drink! Drink!"

Sitting at the table in a roadside Tavern, I slowly enjoyed my cheap meal while observing the drinking game taking part just beside me. With all of the commoner militia, we took with us setting a camp in the field, as there was only a limited space in stables for sergeants and it would be improper for them to live in the Inn chambers like nobles, out of the entire party of almost fifty men, only seven of us in total could enjoy the warmth inside the building.

"Chug it down!"

Looking to the side while stuffing my mouth with the meat of some kind of bird that I couldn't recognise just from its taste, I couldn't help but be amazed at what was happening right beside us.

Holding an entire garn of beer, a man dressed in monk's robes was angling it higher and higher, while pouring its content directly into his mouth. With the accompaniment of the crowd's cheering, the man finished the entire container and dropped it energetically on the ground.

"Ahahaha! Pay up, sirs brothers! Pay up!"

Without any delay, a massive noble stepped up with his lips spreading as far up as his facial muscles would allow. Jiggling his massive belly barely held together by its contus and supported by way thicker belt that I have seen in my life so far!

When someone was happy, someone was bound to be sad. With their faces twisted in a grimace of annoyance, quite a bit group of the nobles pulled out various coins from their pouches before passing them to the fat noble.

At the same time, the doors to the Inn opened up. As I looked to the side to check whether it wasn't one of my servants going to report that something - according to the murphy's law - went terribly wrong. Hopefully, this time instead of a message that my people burned the stables for some reason, it was just another, unfamiliar noble.

"Greetings, gentlemen!" (Check author's notes)

Throwing out the standard greeting for the nobles, he was about to approach the Inn counter, when his eyes fell on the Elia, sitting right on my right side.

"If it isn't a young lady Elia! How come are you here? Are you by any chance tired of all your travels and intent on returning back to your home?"

While it was unlucky to met someone who knew my fiance, considering how we were only two villages away from the Pilzno, it wasn't all that unlikely. With no idea who that person was, I could only throw a peek at the girl to see how she would react to this reunion.

"Greetings, sir... uncle!"

Not even bothering to rise from the bench, Elia only nodded her head, as if in acknowledgement of her 'uncle's' presence. While I didn't know her all that well with how we spent only about two weeks together, I was still able to notice a hint of displeasure on her face and in the way she almost instantly raised her cup to take a sip of our beer.

"Come on! Am I not your uncle already at this point? The fact that you are returning, means you had to come to a realisation you don't really have any better choice! After all, there is no way someone could just help you… like… that…."

Hearing him go and just spew whatever he wanted, I simply turned around on the bench, while still holding the mug and continued to stare at him intently while sipping on the drink.

"Who the hell are you, servant, to look at me like that?! Know your place, trash!"

Before anyone would react, this guy reached for the side of his waist, where the handle of his sabre was. Already expecting this outcome with how hesitant Elia was to call him in such a familiar way, I simply stepped forward and grabbed his right wrist with my left arm, while smashing my mug on his bald head.

Despite being made out of fried clay, one had to have a really hard skull to not waver after such greeting! Taking a few steps back, the man grabbed his now bleeding forehead while trying to gather his thoughts and shake off the dizziness from my attack.

"My fiancee clearly doesn't want to talk to you. Thanks for giving me a reason to smash that ugly face of yours!"

Still standing, I rested both of my hands on my hips and gazed at the bloodied guy as if I had a hard time recognising him.

"Yeah. Looking at you now, it seems that I even improved your looks! Now you are only ugly, instead of having that detestable commoner's face of yours!"

There was no greater insult to a noble than to be called a commoner. Even if I didn't do it directly, that was still enough to fire the flames of rage in my opponent's eyes. Once again trying to reach for his sabre, I simply nodded my head. Before Elia's self-proclaimed uncle could launch an attack on me, both Al, Elemo and Elia's moble servants risen from their chairs with their hands menacingly resting on the handles of their sabres.

After all, it would be unbecoming of me to take care of this sort of trash myself, when I had the people ready to do it for me!

"Pax, brothers! Pax!"

Stepping forward, the fat noble I noticed before, moved right between my party and the angered noble, with his hands spread out as far as he was capable of spreading.

"I know that this evening would be wasted without some bloodshed, but please, consider how others would feel about it! My dear cousin can't really handle the sight of blood that well!"

Moving one of his hands to the man who proved how resilient his head was before, the fat noble attempted to mediate the conflict away. And his words would actually make sense, if that 'cousin' of his, didn't have a wild look in his eyes with his right arm holding a small nadiak (nadziak/horseman's pick, check author's notes). Considering those two factors, it was hard for me to believe the words of the fat noble!

"I don't mind stopping here, just don't let this no one bother me or my people."

Weighting the situation in my mind, I still decided to back off. Considering Elemo's attitude, he should have his pistol already cocked and ready to fire, so no harm could come my way even if I showed my back to that alleged Elia's uncle.

Just as I sat back down on the bench with the intention to bask in Elia's thankful stare while continuing to enjoy the cuisine of the period…

"Kill!"

With how the situation was developing, the one shouting could be only the bald noble who tried to provoke me before. Not bothering to turn around, I saw Elemo raising -just as I guessed - his pistol over the table, so I pushed Elia's aside a bit while bending my body in the opposite direction to give my man a clear line for taking a shot. But right as Elemo raised his pistol high enough, he didn't pull the trigger!

Thump.

THUMP!

Instead of the loud bang of the firearm and the feeling of small bits of gunpowder smouldering my face, those two strangely familiar yet unexpected sound.

Turning my head around, I saw the body of the Elia's 'uncle' lying in a pool of blood forming around what used to be his bald head. With how the entire tavern turned silent and motionless, the monk-like guy swinging his nadiak on a thin metal chain around, blasting droplets of blood at everyone around, instantly gained my attention.

"Did he…?"

Turning my head back my people who actually had the chance to see what happened, I didn't even need to finish my question, as the answer was already written on their faces.

"Eh… I warned him… Didn't I?"

Standing beside the corpse which hand was postmortem tightening around the handle of his half-exposed sabre, the fat noble shook his head.

After this remark, the entire Tavern returned to its normal life. A bunch of servants instantly appeared and dragged the body away, with others wiping the floor out of the blood and bits of the brain that this monk's sprayed on the entire floor with his accurate hit.

In this age, death wasn't something that nobles or even commoners wouldn't be familiar with, so instead of raising a big commotion, some of the guests actually raised their cups in acknowledgement for the monk-like guy's skill! After all, killing someone with just a single hit wasn't that easy, even while using nadiak!

First of all, thanks to everyone who made this novel win the WPC with their votes! Despite it being my third attempt, I finally took the first seat!

With that, I wish I could do mass release right away... But as the month is ending, I actually need to do one for my contracted novel... So expect as many chapters as I will be humanly capable of pumping out whenever I find a single moment to do so!

Also:

Greetings, gentlemen - Poor translation for the popular greeting that is still used to this day, translated literally into: Forehead, yournesses! It most likely steems from the greeting gesture when a noble would take his head cap off when greeting a royal or a fellow noble, shortened just to this phrase and used when a noble wanted to greet other nobles. Nowadays, it's used during the yearly military event, when presidents calls out to the soldiers: Forehead, Soldiers! (In Polish, Czołem, żołnierze!)

Nadiak - real weapon used both in the period and in later dates. Mostly fully made out of metal, it consisted of dull, knocking part in a shape of miniscule hammer on one side, and a sharp thorn on the other side. It's one of the weapons that were hard to be used without killing the opponent, and was banned from use three times in XVI XVII and XVIII centuries. Some people (like the guy using it in the chapter) added a small chain to its bottom part, in order to swing it around with even greater force, but that turned a simple and easy-to-use weapon into something you required a lot of practice to use without killing or at least, hurting yourself

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