Prologue: Arriving at the Battlefield, Begrudgingly

WOE IS ME_. The youngest son of a noble house, exiled to some Podunk village out in the sticks, all because he lacked an aptitude for the right kind of magic.

Set up as the lord of that forgotten land, the energetic child worked himself to the bone developing and fortifying the village. Legend had it that the boy eventually holed himself up in his new home and lived happily ever after.

At least, that was the future I envisioned for myself before I was forced to go to war.

“Man, this sucks. Seriously.” And yet here I was, arriving in the town nearest Scudet. Scudet was where the fighting was, but we had just lost a battle, so we needed time to regroup and reorganize our troops.

We rolled in to find hordes of knights and mercenaries scurrying about the town. It still wasn’t nearly as many troops as I’d expected. Don’t tell me they’ve already run off to take back Scudet?

“Did the enemy already bring down the wall?” I whispered to myself. “Maybe I just couldn’t see it from our position? That would explain rushing to take back the city, at least.”

Dee folded his arms. “Hmm… I understand the desire to retake what was taken, but…”

“Scudet’s forces got their butts kicked. Wouldn’t it make more sense to properly reorganize before trying to take back the city?”

“That is what I would do. I would wait for reinforcements and prepare for the long game.”

I heard footsteps approaching where we stood in the middle of town, then the distinct clanking gait of someone moving in armor. I turned and stopped short, shocked to recognize the person before me. On some level, I had known this meeting was inevitable, but I still wasn’t emotionally prepared.

I bowed my head respectfully. “It has been some time, Father.”

Looking down at me was a man I had not seen in a year: Jalpa Bul Ati Fertio. My dad.

I was pretty sure that he was a bit thinner than he had been when I last saw him, but his sharp gaze remained unchanged. He was flanked by his personal guard, decked out in black armor lined in gold. My old man valued strength and ability above all else, so he made sure that his Chivalric Order was full of skilled knights.

Those knights hung back while my dad glared down at me. “I heard you became a baron.”

“Ah, yes. I have not changed my name, so I go by Baron Van.”

“I heard you slew a dragon.”

“Ah, well, a forest dragon, yes.”

He wrinkled his brow at my casual tone.

“How? Not even I could defeat a dragon of that class alone. Such an opponent would necessitate the full power of my Chivalric Order,” he demanded, a questioning look in his eyes.

“…Um, I did it with my ballistae.”

He snorted an exasperated laugh. “Hah! Ballistae, you say? Impossible. Or what, are you telling me you shot bolts made of mithril at the beast? What nonsense.”

The only response I could muster to his insults was a sigh. There was, quite frankly, no way I could get this man to believe what I said. “Marquis Jalpa, do you happen to have a sword or shield you don’t need?” I asked.

Father blinked, but his confusion at the abrupt subject change quickly gave way to rage. He suppressed his anger and turned to the knight next to him.

“Give me one of your spare swords.”

“Yessir!”

The knight smoothly unhooked the short sword at his waist and handed it to me. I raised the sheathed weapon parallel to the ground.

“Khamsin, cut this,” I whispered.

Khamsin silently drew his sword and swung. The sound of metal on metal was muted. Father and his knights watched, confused.

“Wh-what did…” No sooner could the sword’s owner get these words out than the sheathed sword split in two. Its bladed end fell to the ground.

This bellowed sword was impossibly sharp. Even more impossible was that the cut had been performed by a ten-year-old boy. Father and his men were dumbfounded.

Hmm, I think I’ll name Khamsin’s sword the “Zantetsuken” next time I perform maintenance on it. Sounds awesome.

Father stared at me, disbelieving. “What…is that sword?”

Before I could answer him, I was interrupted by a familiar voice behind me. “Baron Van!”

I turned and was greeted by the sight of a beautiful woman with amazing proportions approaching me; the American dream in every sense of the phrase. “Viscount Panamera! Long time no see.”

Panamera was equipped with light, white armor, the exact opposite of my father’s. It was a bit more decorative than what I’d seen her wear in the past. I assumed this was her loadout for big, important battles. “Hrmph. Looks like you’ve gotten taller.”

“Indeed. I plan on being taller than you one day.”

“Ha ha ha! I’d like to see that! Now then, His Highness awaits. Follow me.”

“Oh, he’s already here?”

“Yes. He has eagerly awaited your arrival, hoping you’ve made something interesting again.”

We continued to chat merrily, but my father looked at me. “…Van,” he said hoarsely. “Did you truly defeat a forest dragon?”

I shot him a smile and nodded. “That I did. I’ll show you my ballistae after I go say hello to His Highness.”

“A wise idea,” Panamera piped up. “Seeing is believing, after all. Or I’d gladly show off my own ballistae, if you give me a few bolts.”

“No, I actually have better models now than the ones I gave you.”

“What? You’ve already developed a new model?! I want one!”

“I’ll make you some next time. We can talk prices later.”

I attempted to soothe Panamera as I made my way towards His Highness, my father following at a distance. It seemed he had nothing else to say to me after our last back-and-forth.

As we proceeded through the town, the military presence steadily increased. Lines of elegantly clad knights stood before the two-story manor that was our ultimate destination. Their red armor was especially striking.

This must be the king’s imperial guard, also known as his Red Armors. I’ve heard people from foreign nations are terrified of them and call them the Bloody Armors.

Panamera announced us. “It is I, Viscount Panamera Carrera Cayenne. I have brought with me Baron Van Nei Fertio.”

“You may enter.”

The red-armored knights cleared the path by lining up on the left and right sides. Cool! They stood at attention, each in the exact same position: the perfect image of military discipline.

“Whoa…” I breathed, making Panamera chuckle.

“Impressed by His Highness’s royal guard?”

“Yes! They have an incredible presence. They must be powerful, huh?”

Panamera nodded, smiling at me. “Of course. Only five hundred may don the red armor. Every year, those who have been judged worthy are tested in battle with the current royal guard. The idea is that they must use their own power to seize the position. That means that anyone who makes it into the Red Armors is a truly adept warrior.” She paused, then added in a whisper, “…I suppose, depending on your gear, you might have a chance at winning.”

One of the Red Armors looked at us then. Panamera paid them no mind and proceeded into the manor. All I could do was grimace and jog after her, scrutinized by the kingdom’s greatest knights.

Damn you, Panamera! You did that on purpose!

By the way: trailing behind Panamera made for a wonderful feast for the eyes.

 

Eventually, she led me up to the second floor and into the reception room. The wooden walls and floor lent the space a warm, calming atmosphere. In the center of the room stood a long table that could seat eight people, with three seats to each side. In the back, at the head of the table, sat a single man.

As I entered the room, all eyes turned to me.

“Mm, Baron Van! Welcome!” The man in the back stood. This was Dino En Tsora Bellrinet, the king of our great nation. He waved me over. “We were just discussing how to take back Scudet, but now that you’re here, we must rethink things! Let us discuss how to best involve you in our strategy.”

The king looked excited, but the expressions of the middle-aged men around him were more dubious. I bowed and, hoping they would accept my presence, delivered a basic greeting: “Um, pardon me. I know I’m new here, but I hope we can get along.”

I continued to duck my head as I took a seat. Panamera, grinning, sat to my right. Father passed me, expressionless, and sat in one of the open seats around the center of the table.

His Highness looked over everyone present before speaking again. “Normally, now would be the time to seek aid from the lords neighboring the capital city, but time is of the essence. I propose we take back Scudet using Marquis Fertio’s Chivalric Order, the border order, Count Ferdinatto and Count Ventury’s forces, and those commanded by Viscount Panamera and Baron Van. Any objections?” One of the thin, droopy-eyed, middle-aged men looked at me with concern. He wore well-crafted armor without a blemish on it, and his shoulder bore a crest designed after a windmill. This must have been Count Ferdinatto. It was my first time seeing him. True to the rumors, he seemed to have a real lack of self-confidence.

For a moment it looked like Count Ferdinatto wanted to say something, but in the end he maintained his silence and averted his gaze. Hmm, he kind of reminds me of Arte before she gained confidence in herself, I thought. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, huh? His face is thin, but he’s still quite attractive —I can see why Arte is so pretty.

The white-haired man across from Count Ferdinatto furrowed his brow in my direction. In a hoarse voice, he asked, “Is this child Baron Van?”

“Ah, yes. My name is Van Nei Fertio. I became a baron only just the other day…” I smiled bashfully, but the white-haired man’s gaze sharpened.

Judging by the names the king had called out, this man was probably Count Ventury. The only other people in the room were His Highness’s retainer and the assorted Chivalric Order commanders. Count Ventury turned to the king. “Your Highness, please cease with the bad jokes. What could a child like this possibly accomplish…?”

The king’s amused smile was enough to quiet the count. “A bad joke?” His Highness echoed cheerfully. “I can see why you would assume that. Once you’ve seen how Baron Van fights, however, you’ll change your tune. Look forward to that moment.”

I couldn’t help but raise my hand. “Ah, excuse me. Actually, I won’t be participating in the battle to take back Scudet.”

My tone was the kind you might take when turning down an invitation to drink with your work buddies. Everyone in the room went wide-eyed. Count Ventury and Father in particular looked at me sharply, but Count Ferdinatto mostly looked puzzled.

Turning his gaze toward daddy dearest, Count Ventury said in a low voice, “What is the meaning of this? If I am to take his words at face value, then are you pretending to participate in the battle on your child’s behalf?”

Daddy dearest glared back at him. “Count Ventury, do you truly think me so underhanded? I am making my oldest son, the current acting head of the family, participate in the battle. There is no reason for me to send my youngest son away.”

Well, that’s awful. I’m not even ten yet! You should object to me participating at all! Be more affectionate!

There were many things I wanted to say, but I swallowed my words and opted for a smile instead. “Father has nothing to do with this. I am simply concerned for my territory.”

Count Ventury and daddy dearest’s glares both grew sharper. My father said, “Our nation’s defenses have been threatened. Are you telling me you refuse to cooperate because you want to protect a tiny village that could be blown away by a strong gust of wind?”

“You may be a child,” Count Ventury added, “but you have tunnel vision. No matter how much you protect your tiny territory, if we lose the Scudet stronghold, the situation will only worsen. Considering that you’ve been invited to sit here, I would hope that you had enough presence of mind to arrive at that conclusion yourself.”

Both of these men were seething with rage. I took it head on, though, and nodded pleasantly. “Of course I understand that. Conversely, do either of you truly understand my position? In the face of great danger, you powerful aristocrats both brought your armed forces to the front lines. Have you given any thought to the struggles of a lord trying to protect his small village with everything he has?”

I am angry. Very, very angry. I had attempted to shut both men down, but they still looked like they had things to say.

That was when the king stepped in. “Hmm… In that case, speak as to why you will not participate in this battle.”

Thanks! I love you, Your Highness!

I cleared my throat, then looked around at everyone at the table. “Thank you very much. First, I was put in charge of a miniscule village that was on the verge of collapse. Three knights, a retired butler, a maid, and a slave boy all decided of their own free will to come with me; other than them, I have received no support or resources from home. I have done my best despite these odds, and in a single year, I have made my village bigger and stronger. No one there struggles for food or to put clothes on their back.”

As I explained my circumstances, everyone looked at daddy dearest, who was staring me down with an unreadable expression. I continued.

“Still, it remains a small village. I somehow managed to put together a Chivalric Order, hired a great number of mercenaries, and came here. In this situation, should Yelenetta invade my village, we have no chance of winning.”

This was complete BS on my part. The king and Panamera, well aware of my actual circumstances, looked pained. Nobody else at the table possessed that knowledge, though, so there would be no immediate objections.

Or so I thought. “So you think it possible that Yelenetta might target your territory?” Panamera asked, surprising me. “Why do you think that? Count Ferdinatto’s fortress has strategic value, but as you say, your village is small. I cannot see any value in sending troops there.”

Once again, every set of eyes in the room turned to me.

“This is just conjecture,” I warned, “but…after struggling for many long years, Yelenetta finally invaded and decisively took down Scudet. Their wyverns helped them do it, but the main reason for their success was their new weapon, the black balls. From their perspective, this is different from the minor clashes they’ve engaged in before. I have to assume that they’ve come here with great confidence in their forces. If they plan to take down Scuderia, they won’t stop at taking Scudet, but aim to conquer other important strongholds. To do that, they’ll need to ensure we don’t confine ourselves in those strongholds, because that would force them into a protracted siege battle.”

Panamera raised an eyebrow. “In other words, they will take any neighboring towns and villages that could be used as supply routes?”

“They wouldn’t have to take them. They could just make them unusable. By burning them to the ground, for example.”

Everyone in the room grimaced. His Highness looked at me. “Attacking multiple strongholds simultaneously, while sending troops to smaller towns and villages…” he said slowly. “That doesn’t sound like a realistic strategy to me. Every nation requires troops, resources, and funds to defend themselves against neighboring ​nations. Even in all-out war, they don’t deplete their forces entirely.”

He explained these things to me patiently and clearly, since I was just a child. Thanks, Your Highness!

I nodded respectfully, but then voiced my disagreement. “I’m sure that has been the case in the past, but this time is different. If Yelenetta possesses dozens of wyverns and marionette mages, I have no doubt they’ll send ten to twenty groups to our strongholds and towns. Remember, they brought down Scudet. It’s entirely possible for them to simultaneously target multiple locations.”

The king grimaced and leaned back in his chair. It seemed to me like he’d decided my position was worth thinking over. But then Count Ferdinatto spoke for the first time.

“…I think this is worth looking into. However, there’s something about what you said that gives me pause, Baron Van. From your phrasing, it sounds almost as if you’ve developed a means of combatting Yelenetta’s new weapon.”

“I believe I have. I’ve got a way of handling both the wyverns and black balls.”

The directness of my response made Count Ferdinatto fall silent. Count Ventury, on the other hand, smacked the table, enraged. “Foolishness! How could we even listen to this child’s foolishness?! Their forces could push back not only the border knights, but also Marquis Fertio’s Chivalric Order! I refuse to believe they have multiple armies capable of such a feat! And even if they did, what could you do to stop them if you went back to your village?”

Everything Count Ventury said made sense: I was, in fact, a young child participating in a war council. I was aware that nothing I said held any weight.

Regardless, I had no intention of backing down. “It raises our odds of victory considerably. That much is a fact. Besides, I don’t intend to return home without getting anything done here first.”

Count Ventury glowered at me. Oh, gosh. How scary! He’s got the eyes of a murderer.

The king had turned to face me fully. I said, “I will be on my way shortly, but before that, I’ll drop off my new ballistae and some brand-new, extra-strong catapults that I’ve developed. I’ll also leave my super powerful rapid-fire machine bow squad with Viscount Panamera, which should be more than enough of a fighting force.”

The king and Panamera both murmured their pleasure. Count Ventury, obviously, wasn’t quite so thrilled.

With no other options, I stood from my chair and turned to Count Ventury. “Please forgive me, but I must be a bit rude if I am to convince you of what I’m saying. Count Ventury, could you lend me a sword or shield?”

I expected him to explode in a fit of rage, but instead he cast a silent glance at the large, armored man sitting next to him. That man held up a thick, heavylooking shield with one hand. Just how strong was this dude?

I’d seen a handful of people like Dee before, who could use gigantic broadswords straight out of a video game. This served as a reminder that I was in a world where people could ignore physical limitations, even without using magic.

The man holding up the shield was looking at me, which briefly gave me pause. He was probably Count Ventury’s commander, but…why were his facial features just as intense as his master’s? Were they father and son or something? They certainly resembled one another.

“…What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Ah, my apologies. Just hold it like that. Let me see… Your hand is in the middle, okay. Here we go…” I mumbled, checking the position of his hand. He seemed puzzled by this whole display. “Okay, please stay still for a moment.” In one rapid movement, I unsheathed the sword at my hip and slashed at the shield.

I sliced through a vertical third of the large shield, my momentum bringing my sword clean through the wooden table below. Fortunately, I didn’t get as far as the floor. The onlookers appeared stunned. The chunks of table and shield hit the ground with sounds that were obnoxiously loud, calling everyone’s attention to the severed pieces lying on the floor.

“Is it just me, or have you increased that thing’s sharpness?” Panamera whispered as she looked over at me, prompting everyone else to do the same.

With the eyes of the room on me, I smiled and raised my sword in front of my face. This was my precious ornamental sword; its blade held nary an impurity. I’d made it with orichalcum, which meant that it even reflected the light stunningly.

“This sword here has the finest stroke imaginable, but the iron swords I sell are nearly as sharp.” I looked around the room. “As are the bolts fired by my ballistae. Those ballistae were what helped us defeat a forest dragon. Oh, and for the record, we took down the wyvern that attacked our village with an older catapult model.”

“You defeated a dragon with ballistae?” asked Count Ventury in a low voice.

Before I could answer him, the king interjected. “Mm. I have seen him take down a wyvern in a single strike.” That shut even the count up.

As if to seal the deal, Panamera spoke up next. “I was involved with the slaying of the forest dragon. All our magic did was buy time. It was the baron’s ballistae that pierced the scales of the beast and defeated it. I can confirm their power.”

Count Ventury, my old man, and Arte’s pops exchanged glances. None of this was particularly easy to believe, but they knew they couldn’t question what the king said. It wasn’t worth wasting brainpower on: I understood they would never believe words alone. I was going to do what I came here to do, then head home.

“Okay,” I said, “I’m going to get to building those mobile ballistae and catapults, then head back. I’ve also prepared ballista bolts and barrels filled with shuriken for the catapults, so please use those.”

“You are going to…build them? Now?”

“Van, I have stayed silent up until now, but it appears to me that you do not understand our current situation. Time is of the essence.”

“Yup!” I said, cutting the middle-aged men off before they could begin to stew with rage all over again. “Okay, going outside now!”

I beat it out of the room. The knights by the entrance all turned to face me.

“Baron Van, is the meeting over?”

I nodded and lifted a hand. “Yup. I have some stuff to do, so could you clear the main street for me?”

“Yessir! Of course!” One of the older knights began to issue clear and concise commands. “Clear the main road! Get to the sides!”

Man, the king’s knights really are something else. Not an ounce of wasted energy, and they move so quickly.

I sensed His Highness and the others approaching from behind and turned to my squad at the front of the main street. “My bad! Could you guys get me the materials?!” I shouted to them.

“Yes, of course!” Khamsin called back promptly. The carriages full of materials began to move.

Just gonna whip some weapons up and hurry home. I’ll start with the foundation… I thought, but before I could do anything, a loud, angry voice exploded behind me.

“Child…! Baron Van! How dare you take such an insolent tone before the king!”

Oh, wow. He’s super pissed. Cold sweat ran down my back as furioussounding footsteps approached me, but I quickly switched into work mode.

First, I had to build a huge foundation with wheels attached to it. Since I had already built multiple models for Seatoh, I managed to whip one up in no time at all. As it turned out, the more you used magic, the easier it got. Everything went according to plan: the approaching footsteps and angry voices came to a halt as I finished crafting the catapult’s foundation. I exhaled in relief and started building the upper parts of the large weapon.

The support pillars rose. The large axle came together. The rotating mandrel sprouted from the side. It was a fascinating sight, like watching a well-made claymation film.

Two large axles appeared on either side of the mandrel, followed by a large pole extending forward and backward. In some ways, the thing resembled a massive seesaw, but it was far more dangerous than that. I used mithril alloy to reinforce any load-bearing parts: the springs, axles, bearings, and mandrel. At last I had a super-awesome, Van-made catapult that more than deserved the astonished gaze of everyone present.

Each carriage bore sufficient materials to build one catapult. And this thing was so big that you had to tilt your head way back to look at it.

I went to construct a second catapult while everyone stood frozen and wideeyed around me. Eventually Count Ventury finished his reboot sequence and started shouting.

“Wh-wh-what is this madness?!”

I turned to face him and found my old man, Arte’s pops, and Panamera standing in front of the manor with him. The king and several knights came up behind them. “Oooh! So this is your new weapon!” the king enthused, approaching the first catapult.

Panamera trailed behind him, wearing a strained smile. In a slightly exasperated tone, she said, “I see you have built yet another absurd weapon.”

“Now, now,” I replied, “just wait until you see it in action.”

I turned back to my work, crafting more catapults and lightweight ballistae. Upon completion, I turned toward the king. “Now then, I will leave these weapons and my prized Chivalric Order with Viscount Panamera.”

The king and the viscount both nodded silently. The middle-aged noblemen, meanwhile, finally gathered enough of their wits to speak up.

“H-hold on just a moment!”

“Why isn’t anyone asking about this absurd magic?!” Count Ventury demanded, approaching me in a fit of rage.

Khamsin instinctively gripped the handle of his katana. As he shifted his stance, it wasn’t only Count Ventury who reacted: every knight present took notice.

Realizing that the atmosphere was accelerating toward disaster, I grabbed Khamsin by the collar and pulled him back. “I’m so sorry about him. I’ll depart without saying anything else. If you wish to know the details of these new weapons, feel free to approach Viscount Panamera. Farewell.”

I bowed my head and took a step back, urging Khamsin to lower his head.

In Count Ventury’s stead, the king stepped forward to speak. With a bold smile, he asked, “Can we win with these weapons?”

I stopped in my tracks and turned to him. “I cannot guarantee anything, but I’ve done everything I can. Assuming that the enemy does not surpass my estimations, I believe our chance of victory is over ninety percent.”

The corners of the king’s mouth quirked up. He nodded. “That works for me.

Until we meet again, Baron Van.”

“I look forward to that day.” Our conversation having reached its conclusion, I bowed my head and turned on my heel.

Aw, yeah! I get to go home now, right? I’m going, okay? I’m really going.

And with that, I set out on my journey home.