Risou no Himo Seikatsu - Volume 12 - Chapter 4

Chapter 4 — Awaiting Victory

Several days before this event, Zenjirou and Freya were in the room alone—having been left by Anna. Zenjirou had just asked the question he had been holding on to until then.

“Gunpowder? I know of its existence, at least,” Freya answered despite her apparent confusion.

Zenjirou’s face grew more serious. The soul of language had worked, so the concept of gunpowder had to be fairly widespread across the Northern Continent.

“I see. Then I have more questions. The truth is...”

He then explained the first meeting he’d had with the mercenary commander...along with the smell of gunpowder wafting from his body. He spoke of his assumption that there were weapons using it since an accomplished mercenary like Yan smelled of it.

“Do you have any idea of such things?” he asked.

Freya put a hand to her mouth and thought. “Well, I am not entirely familiar with it, but I have heard that there have been many attempts to make it useful on the battlefield over the years. There have been some small successes, but each of them eventually ended poorly and stopped progressing, from what I have heard.”

“In what way?”

“Magic, in the same way as the port would be defended. To use gunpowder in weaponry, one must store it. If you light it using magic from a distance, it ends up damaging the forces using it instead.”

“Ah...”

Magic was the answer yet again. It made sense when you thought about it. It was said that modern high explosives wouldn’t detonate unless the correct procedures were followed. You could throw artillery shells or missiles into fires or smack them with a hammer and they wouldn’t go off.

That wasn’t the case with black powder, though. A single spark would detonate it. You could aim a cannon at a fortress that an enemy was holed up in, but cannons in this time period were rather inaccurate. Conversely, magic could be cast fundamentally anywhere within eyeshot. It would never miss a static target.

The tension of a battlefield meant that skilled mages capable of casting from a distance were a small minority. If their opponents set themselves up with gunpowder, though, it was another matter. Cast sparks or an area of flames around them and you could cause a lot of damage with a single spell.

“Is that why you want people with him?”

He nodded somewhat awkwardly. “It is. Though if things are as you say, I suppose there is no need.”

Orders hadn’t been given yet. Perhaps it would be better to not send people into the danger of battle due to such a minor hunch.

Freya considered it seriously for a moment before disagreeing. “Personally, it seems all the more important to do so. As I said, there have been many attempts to make use of gunpowder on the battlefield. If you smelled it on him, then there is a good chance he is using it. I have heard that the knights have many mages, but this is a surprise attack. They likely have taken no precautions against it.”

“So it might follow the commander’s plan after all?”

“Conversely, if they have done so, then the commander may be hoisted with his own petard. Whatever the case, the chances for both a great victory and a crushing defeat are greater than I expected. It would be best if we had our own observers.”

“Are you sure?”

While he was the one who had suggested it, he was less certain than the princess. Great victories aside, a crushing defeat meant a much greater chance of fatalities. It made him more inclined to forget the whole thing.

Picking up on his nerves, Freya spoke decisively. “Yes. The risk is there, but we should send people in.”

She had a much longer and deeper relationship with the fighters, but her determination to send them in was perhaps evidence of her royal birth. It was yet another instance where Zenjirou’s sudden ascension showed itself.

Regardless, with her being in favor of something he had suggested, there was no way for him to halt it in its tracks now.

“Very well. I shall leave it in your hands, then.”

“Of course,” she replied with a smile.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

While Zenjirou and Freya were deciding to send men into battle, Princess Anna of Złota Wolność was in another room with a severe expression she would never show in public.

“So, Capua is making moves on the Uppasalan royalty,” she mused.

Silence met her comment. Present in the room from the marquis were Anna herself and two other Husaria she had brought from the capital.

“I knew Uppasala wanted trade routes of their own with the Southern Continent, but I had never imagined they would make such a catch. Not even we have made inroads with Capua.”

While those of the Southern Continent were almost completely ignorant of the situation on the Northern Continent, the opposite was surprisingly far from the case. This disparity was because all intercontinental trade took the form of ships coming from the Northern Continent.

The most benefits were—due to the physical distance, of course—to the southern states of the Northern Continent, and the northern states of the Southern Continent.

While Złota Wolność was considered to be the midwest of the continent, the bustling trade port of Pomorskie made sure it was also involved in intercontinental trade. Being part of the commonwealth’s royal family meant that Anna had at least heard of the country before.

“Capua is said to be one of the leading countries on their continent, and yet things just do not add up.”

The south had been in the midst of war until very recently, and Capua had held onto their position throughout the ravages of the conflict. Yet Zenjirou did not give off the impression of a royal so familiar with battle.

“The Southern Continent has focused on and developed their magic. Conversely, the general agreement is that their technology, ideology, and institutions are behind our own...”

Her musings could certainly be called condescending in a certain sense, and yet the Southern royal had shown an understanding of the political system of Złota Wolność, a system that defied the understanding even of some of their local peers.

“I had assumed he was feigning it to make himself seem more knowledgeable, but that does not seem to be the case. He even explicitly said ‘reigning without governing.’”

One of the Husaria—who had thus far listened wordlessly—jolted at that comment.

“I seem to remember that phrasing only recently being suggested by the Royal University in the capital?” they asked.

“It has. It is a statement I would hardly expect to hear from our own nobility, let alone a completely foreign element. Marquis Pomorskie himself may not even know of it. Yet those words left a Southern royal’s mouth. It was frankly rather difficult to control my expression.”

“Only recently suggested” referred to the phrase as a whole rather than the actual concept. The latter had existed for a long time. The Sejm governed, dealing with the majority of the country’s policies. The Sejm outranked the king and were a senate that elected the next king.

Describing that king as “reigning but not governing” was just an abbreviated way of summing up the state of affairs. Yet the very nobles it defined were still unfamiliar with it. Hearing the very same phrasing from a distant royal—one who had no connections with this country and only secondhand information to form his assumptions—was no small shock.

“So Capua has much more knowledge of our country than before?” the Husaria asked.

Anna nodded heavily.

“We should assume so, yes. Uppasala is in the north of our continent while Capua is in the midwest of its own. That has led to neither of them participating in intercontinental trade until this point, but Uppasala’s new ships have been a boon, allowing them to do so. Still, making the trip completely without resupply is rather difficult. The southern states are under the influence of the church, though. Neither country will want to approach them, both being animistic in their beliefs.”

“So they have felt us out due to our religious freedoms. We are a supply port for them if need be, after all. I see, that makes sense.”

Anna nodded in satisfaction at her colleague’s summation. It certainly did make sense. For all that, it was not quite correct, though.

“They may consider further trade with us in preparation for damage to their ships.”

“So you think Capua is weighing up their alternatives?” the Husaria asked. There was a clear sense of discomfort in the question. The church’s teachings of the Southern Continent being a land of exile were likely part of the condescension there.

“Do not say that,” Anna replied, waving a hand. “All relations between countries are like that when you dig deep enough. It is all a matter of what is most beneficial. Considering the relationship between the two nations, there is a strong possibility that they will succeed in establishing a trade route. Uppasala certainly has the technology.”

“Is that a threat to us?”

Anna’s smile deepened as she replied. “It will be, yes. At the very least, it is highly possible it will be in the future. At present, we are not negotiating directly with Capua. We simply trade with other countries on the Southern Continent. They are not national-level agreements either. That is why sugar and spices command such ridiculous prices. In comparison, Uppasala sent out their own princess to create trade for the country. In terms of plain strength, we are far stronger than Uppasala, but our trade is fragmented through civilian merchants, so we will not be able to compete. Large-scale transport will drive prices down. If the cheap spices and sugar from Capua spread through the Northern Continent via Uppasala, the impact on our sea trade will be no laughing matter.”

“And is that your excuse, Your Highness?” asked the other of the pair, finally joining the conversation.

The full set of armor—including a helm—made making any judgments from the knight’s appearance rather difficult. The voice, however, was that of a relatively older man.

“‘Excuse’ is such an unpleasant word. Please, call it a tool for cajoling the Sejm, Master.”

“If you are concerned about how things sound, then ‘cajoling’ is perhaps not the best word to use either, Your Highness.”

The princess allowed herself a shrug at the man’s rebuke. “I know. I will not speak like that in front of them. Still, it is a perfect pretext to both strengthen the navy and ensure the royal family has command of it.”

By land, there were many countries between Złota Wolność and Uppasala, but the two kingdoms were surprisingly close via sea. If Uppasala mustered both their naval forces and this trade deal, they could certainly be a threat to the commonwealth.

However, Anna’s aim was not to prepare for such a threat. Instead, she wanted to use that pretext to strengthen their own naval forces and have those forces under the royal family’s direct command.

“Are you so discontent with the low authority of the royal family?”

“I am not discontent. I am discomforted. I understand the benefits of our system of governance. The large number of nobles feeling that they have a real say over national politics increases their engagement, and the educational norm of those nobles rises as a result. We gain many outstanding people due to that education as well. Truly, there are many advantages. Regrettably, though, we suffer from a lack of immediacy when it comes to unforeseen situations. Shipbuilding and navigation mean that the seas are now advancing tremendously. You could even say that they are shrinking. For that reason, we need to be able to respond instantly to at least some things, even if just for national naval projects.”

She spoke earnestly, yet firmly. The other two present listened until she was done.

“I know that you are concerned with our country’s future and you are trying to ensure it progresses in the direction you think correct. Despite that, we have no way to take even the first steps if you do not become the monarch.”

“I understand,” she replied to her master’s words, resting a cheek on her hand and sighing. Currently, she was simply another member of the royal family. If she could not gain the throne and represent the family as a whole, then advocating for an increase in their rights to the Sejm would be rather difficult. “It is common knowledge that my father and brother are focused on the land. Marquis Pomorskie is likely rather soured by that. He agrees with me that our future lies on the sea. If I can gain a foundation, I believe he will support me.”

The marquis had a faction of his own within the Sejm. His support would represent a significant step forward in her ambitions for the throne.

“Then, once his support has secured you the throne, you will strengthen the navy and take command? Considering the port’s position and that much of our navy is held by Marquis Pomorskie, that seems rather like kicking the man while he is down.”

There was a long pause.

“The royal family will only control the reinforcements and trading vessels. I will not be impinging on the marquis’s current assets.”

“I might hazard that a relative reduction in his influence with the navy would amount to much the same.”

The princess remained silent at her master’s words, merely looking away.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

It had been several days since Yan’s men had left the city, and Pomorskie was enveloped in an uneasy peace. Ships could not enter or leave the port, and the marquis had warships patrolling the sea around the entrance.

The land entrances to the city were much the same. Twice the usual number of soldiers were stationed at each gate, and the time taken to check over everyone as they entered or left had more than doubled. The official word was that a wanted criminal could be within the city, but people who paid enough attention were doubtful.

The transport had been hidden, but locals had seen ballistae and massive bolts brought atop the castle gates, and the guards were visibly wary of the outside of their posts.

The biggest hint was that several days prior, a thousand-strong group of mercenaries had left fully equipped. The claim was that they were to search the surroundings of the city, but it was a little beyond belief. Many things could be hidden, but the atmosphere around the town was not one of them. Someone was invading, went the rumors, passed in whispers throughout the town.

The orphan who had been the genesis of all of these rumors was—while the town as a whole wrestled with unease—staying as a guest in the lord’s estate. It was an utter luxury for the rural youth, but that also added to his discomfort.

The way he ate, the way he walked through the corridors, the way he opened or closed a door, and particularly how he spoke and carried himself around others—every time he did anything, the serving staff’s expressionless faces reminded him of how poorly he fit in.

They called him a guest, but their behavior and faces made it clear that he was more of an eyesore. They provided him with soft bedding and fine clothing along with delicious food, yet the way he felt made him long for the days of dirt and hunger on the streets.

As a result, the orphan found himself mostly hanging around the priest—someone who was never cruel to him.

“How long am I here for?” he asked the older man. He leaned back slightly into the sofa, kicking his legs. He didn’t know how many times he’d asked the same question.

The priest knew the boy had no place within the estate as a whole, so he kept his voice soft as he answered. “I would imagine at least until the commander returns with news. However, young Yan, where would you go?”

“Well...I don’t have anywhere. I’d figure it out, though. I managed so far.”

He had initially attempted to go with the mercenaries to prove his worth, but the commander had immediately said he would be a burden and left the boy behind. Considering how necessary speed was this time, the youth couldn’t refute the claim.

Young Yan was wiser and more courageous than one would expect from his age. His physical prowess, however, was exactly what his youth would suggest.

“I see.”

The priest had a position as dean at his home university. He had a rather substantial income as far as commoners were concerned. However, he did not have the means to take responsibility for another without consideration.

While benevolence was important as a member of the church, one also could not forget impartiality. While showing some kindness to an orphan would be fine, taking responsibility for the youth’s life entirely required a reason. Otherwise, he would be inundated and end up useless.

Therefore, he could essentially only offer advice. “I seem to remember Princess Anna mentioned some form of reward. Have you decided what you want?” While he had expected the boy to grow more animated, the younger Yan instead looked rather worn.

“Nothing, really. I might even just turn it down. I thought maybe I could get some money or a good knife, some kind of weapon I could use as a kid. I don’t need it, though. Besides, not like having money or something valuable’d help an orphan like me.”

There was a surety to the boy’s words, and the priest chewed his lip in thought. He was correct. Having money—or other assets—beyond his means would just be a pitfall. A weapon would see disdain possibly turn to fear and could put his life in danger.

That was precisely why the older man offered a suggestion. It was one that would not occur to a young boy raised in a rural village.

“Then perhaps ask for something you could never have taken away?”

“Something I could never have taken away?” the boy parroted. He seemed unconvinced there was any such thing.

While the priest knew it was technically a lie, he still straightened and spoke. “Indeed. Technique. Knowledge, if you’d rather.”

“Technique and knowledge?”

“That’s right. They are things kept within your body or mind. You need not worry about anyone taking such things from you.”

While techniques could be considered dangerous, and knowledge could be shunned, along with either causing one to lose their life, there were many more examples of them helping. He didn’t tell the boy any of that.

“So, technique and knowledge are like that...”

However clever he was, the boy lacked experience and perspective. The priest explained in a way that was easier to understand.

“For example, you cannot ride a horse. If you were to develop it more than anyone, then Commander Yan could employ you as a courier.”

The boy jolted.

“Knowledge is much the same. You can only count as high as three. If you were able to use numbers properly, perhaps you could have reported more accurately when you heard the knights speaking. The commander could have used that for a more certain strategy.”

“He...could have?”

“Besides, you are an intelligent boy. You summarized their conversation to the relevant points very well. However, I assume they spoke for much longer, no? If you could recite that conversation in its entirety, there might have been even more information to be had.”

“I-I can’t remember that.”

“Of course not. Yet if you had been asked sooner, would you not have remembered more, if not all of it? It would require writing utensils rather than just the knowledge, so this is somewhat unfair to say. If you could write, though, and you did so when it was relevant, you could have brought them more useful information.”

The boy had been listening seriously and the priest let his usual soft smile fall into a serious expression of his own as he awaited the response.

“Priest.”

“Yes?”

“Will either of those things let me be like that one-eyed guy? Or like you?”

“I cannot say. I am completely unfamiliar with warfare, so I only have what I have heard. Still, I have heard that generals of his caliber are rarely found even in the army, let alone as mercenaries. In my own case, I am the dean of my university’s dracology department. Naturally, most mercenaries are not assigned to major operations, and a single university has only as many deans as you could count on the fingers of a hand. That fact alone means that not just anyone could be like either one of us,” he told him honestly.

The boy’s harsh upbringing meant that baseless aspirations would just be falsehoods to him. Therefore, the priest told him the state of things as best he could to give him a more realistic goal.

“What I can say, however, is that with some skill or knowledge truly mastered, you will have a much brighter future than if you had not.”

“A brighter future?”

“You could say it would be a better life. Of course, knowledge alone does not guarantee a good future for you, just as a lack of the same does not mean your downfall.”

“Right.”

The mix of harsh reality and hope was easy for the boy to understand. He had yet to take the final leap, so the priest offered a final push.

“If you decide to ask for this, you would be better served by doing so quickly. You are at the age where the majority of the nobility and rich can read and write simple words, and do most simple math. Those born to knight families can already ride ponies and have a modicum of knowledge with weapons.”

“Then...”

The youth’s expression spoke to not being sure he could catch up. The priest made sure his expression was bright as he carried on.

“It’s okay. You can catch up or even surpass them if you try. I was not an orphan, but my family was poor. When I was your age, I could not read, write, or do math either. Now, though, I am confident I am better at each of them than the majority of nobles. Of course, it took much effort. You can do just as I did,” he said with a smile.

“Okay,” the boy decided. “I’ll ask the princess for teaching as my reward.”

“That is a good idea, I feel.” He was happy to see the orphan looking towards his own future with hope and ambition. “Before you do, though, you should decide what instruction you want and what you are aiming for. Dreaming is by no means a bad thing, but first, you should aim for competence in one thing. It will form a foundation for you.”

“Hmmm, well, I want to be able to fight.”

“‘Being able to fight’ covers a rather wide range itself. While things would be different for a normal soldier or mercenary, if you want to command a squad like Commander Yan, you will need to exercise your mind just as much as your body.”

“Ugh, then I’d start off with being a soldier, I guess.”

Their light conversation was interrupted by loud voices that practically shook the walls.

“Priest?!” the boy yelled, paling as he leaped up from the sofa.

Calmly, the older man refuted his assumption. “It is not what you think. This is not an attack. If anything, it sounded like a cheer.”

“A cheer? Then...”

The priest met the young boy’s grin with a smile of his own.

“Indeed, I would wager the commander is back. With good news as well.”

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

The return of the mercenary army was accompanied by the best news: the knights had been repelled.

Affairs had been put in place beforehand, so the soldier in charge at the north gate immediately reported the news to the estate. As a result, while there was some delay before the gates were opened, the men were greeted as heroes by Marquis Pomorskie and Princess Anna. They were practically paraded past the citizens on their way to the estate. The men were covered in blood and mud, armed to the teeth, and over a thousand strong. While the citizens stared agape, the familiar sight of their lord along with Anna heading the procession on her winged horse kept the panic to a minimum.

The two highest-ranked people in the city were guiding others who looked like they’d just stepped off the battlefield. Everyone was curious in some way. That wasn’t at all helped by the disquieting rumors due to the blockade at the port. No one stopped them, so many of the onlookers followed after the soldiers.

The long trail headed by the lord and princess, followed by the mercenaries, and finally tailed by the onlookers eventually arrived at the lord’s estate. The courtyard gates in front of the estate were opened and Anna gave a speech as to the particulars. She explained how the cowardly knights had plotted to take Pomorskie by surprise. She told of how a courageous young boy had allowed them to find out ahead of time. She also told the crowd that they could not act officially on just the boy’s testimony—here, the marquis offered his apologies for the deceit.

The soldiers had acted on that testimony, though, finding the knights’ surprise attack, and then Anna’s men had safely repelled them.

“These men are heroes! They repelled the knights and protected Pomorskie!”

The citizens all cheered and applauded at those words, happy smiles on every face as they looked at their heroes.

Zenjirou watched it all happen from inside. “Another wonderful speech,” he commented.

“Perhaps we should learn from her example,” Freya agreed from his side with a reluctant smile.

There was no disputing just how impressive her speech was. The way her voice carried, her articulation, and the impact of how she spoke were all there. Zenjirou felt like she’d learned all of the parts of speechmaking.

“In one way, I suppose it’s a byproduct of the advanced governance Złota Wolność has.”

The musing was a mere mutter to himself, but Freya was right next to him and her ears picked it up.

“A byproduct of electing their king? Due to needing to win over their votes through speeches?” she asked.

He was somewhat surprised she had heard him, but he had no real reason to hide things, so he replied honestly to her.

“Well, that might be part of it, but it’s a more fundamental thing I was thinking of. You could call it a symptom of a stronger class of intellectuals.”

While the system was given the title of an election, so far, each vote had only provided a single candidate. Fundamentally, the position was not that different from a crown prince’s in any other country. The nobility simply approved of them and there was no further meaning to it. That made Zenjirou think that speechcraft probably hadn’t progressed strictly to win votes in an election.

The problem was with the education levels of the nobility—a full ten percent of the population. Additionally, the amount of interaction the middle classes had with those nobles meant that they, too, had higher levels of education than the norm.

As a result, you had a large number of refined, intelligent citizens—or, put less charitably, citizens who were harder to deceive. Appealing to them meant needing a certain amount of logic and persuasion. That made speechcraft an absolutely indispensable skill for nobility and royals—in Zenjirou’s estimation, at least.

Naturally, he had no basis for any of his claims, nor the time to investigate them. It was impossible to tell the truth of the situation. Understanding the details would require a significant amount of knowledge for the requisite assumptions.

While Uppasala was also part of the Northern Continent, it was a simple monarchy. His explanation was rather difficult for Freya to parse. Fortunately, the topic hadn’t been important to begin with, so the conversation stalling was not a major issue.

“So, do you think the rewards will be publicized here?” he asked instead.

The cheering was still audible.

“They will not be. All they currently know is that it was a victory. Who contributed and to what extent will need to be determined before any decisions on rewards are made.”

“Ah, that does make sense.”

It was somewhat like kubi-jikken in the Warring States period, where samurai took their foes’ heads back for their commanders to inspect. While monetary payment was part of the job for mercenaries, another part was fame for their future employment prospects. Not paying in accordance with that would spread through the ranks of mercenaries and make future gatherings of this ilk harder, particularly in this case, where their duties were the defense of the nation. The men hadn’t been able to enjoy themselves with looting or the like, so if they weren’t paid properly, things would degrade.

Eventually, part of the serving staff came out in front of Anna and distributed something to the mercenaries.

“I wonder what that was?” Zenjirou asked.

“Perhaps an advance on their payment? A set reward for anyone who participates in a major victory is fairly common,” Freya answered after a moment, once she had an explanation for the situation, which seemed to contradict her previous thoughts.

“I see. That makes sense.”

Indeed, Freya’s assumption was correct. The objects could have been called a bonus. They were wooden tags. They had Anna’s signature and the Krakow crest burned into them, along with the date.

Presenting these items at the city’s establishments over the next two days would enable them to have their bills paid by Anna. They only could be used in places like bars, restaurants, inns, and brothels—places that handled ephemeral goods. If not, particularly cunning mercenaries would use them for weapons, jewels, or similar, and then sell them off later.

It was a necessary measure for Anna. After all, she had arrived on flying horseback with nothing but the clothes she was wearing. Unfortunate though it was, she didn’t have the money with her to pay for their services upfront.

Luckily, she was well-placed and well-regarded by the merchants, so they would accept deferred payment. That said, she wanted this to be a personal achievement. Any money used for it could not come from the royal coffers, but from her own private assets.

She had been raising money by investing in many promising businesses and craftsmen and offering charters. She therefore had considerably more money than other female royals her age. Still, paying both the mercenaries’ normal rates and bonuses was a significant burden.

Of course, Zenjirou had no knowledge of those circumstances. “It seems like they are finished.”

“So it appears.”

The people in the courtyard began to break away as Anna announced the end of her presentation. The mercenaries immediately began calling out to people—likely bar- and innkeepers familiar with them. While the tags were only valid for the next two days, they were essentially unlimited credit cards until then.

Very few mercenaries were the kind of people to wait until the sun was over the yardarm. Additionally, while the money was unlimited, the drinks, food, and whores were not. There would not necessarily be enough to slate the various thirsts of so many mercenaries. Those with some experience knew as much, so they hurriedly raced off to get the booze and women they wanted.

Their victory achieved, Yan’s group was disbanded. In other words, the fighters from the Glasir’s Leaf were also finished with their work. None of the three had been majorly wounded, and they eventually made their way to Zenjirou and Freya, reporting on the details of the battle to the best of their abilities.

While only they were in the room, the chamber was a guest room from the marquis, so it felt somewhat wrong to receive what amounted to an intelligence report there. Still, the three had made no attempts to hide their affiliation as they asked to join, and they had still been accepted. It likely didn’t matter at this point.

“...and then the bastards turned tail and ran.”

“We got your orders, so we kept by the rear with the archers. We didn’t fight ’em directly.”

“S’none of us got much outta it. It’s kinda a shame.”

“Good work. Naturally, we cannot have you using the tags from Her Highness, so we will buy them from you. Is that acceptable, Sir Zenjirou?”

She asked him because the entire operation had essentially been at his behest. Therefore, he would be the one paying.

“That will not be a problem. Would the local coins be acceptable? We will not be in the commonwealth for long, but unfortunately, I have none of your currency.”

If it came to it, he could have Freya exchange some of the coins, but he asked just to be certain. The three men turned their almost bearlike faces to exchange looks and wicked grins.

“That’s nah problem.”

“It’d be better, even.”

“They spend just as well back home. The girls like it more if we... Ah, apologies.”

The last man cut himself off when he noticed his princess sending a withering glare his way, scrunching his large frame up in apology.

A currency’s strength was more or less tied to its country’s economic strength. It was hardly pleasant to hear one’s own countrymen—particularly one ostensibly on state service—say they preferred another country’s, however true it may be.

With the matter of recompense solved, Zenjirou asked for more detail on what he wanted to know.

“Would you say the victory hinged on those weapons that made noise and smoke?”

His tension must have shown through his uncharacteristically grave expression because the three men matched his look and nodded.

“Yeah, definitely.”

“It stank and sounded like Ymir’s fart. Their horses all bolted.”

“Some of the knights fell, but I was pretty surprised myself, so I ain’t sure what happened.”

The sound, smoke, and scent all came together such that all Zenjirou could think of were guns. Freya and the three fighters all seemed unaware of them as well, so how widely had they spread?

“That attack was by Commander Yan’s apprentices, right? Do you remember any of the other mercenaries, or the knights reacting to them? Did any of them seem to recognize what happened?”

The three exchanged looks.

“Well...”

“None, I guess.”

“Yeah, they were all flat on their arses with shock. Well...so were we, in fairness.”

Zenjirou breathed a sigh of relief at no one seeming to understand. That meant it was either a brand new weapon or a minor one that hadn’t spread for whatever reason.

To make sure, he continued his questioning. “Was there nothing mentioned about them on the way back?”

“’Course there was. I mean, we won ’cause of them. We were all asking the commander and his men to sell them or at least tell us where they were sold.”

“I see. Did you get a close look at one?”

One of them answered after considering the question. “No. They were kept in leather bags. I got a glimpse during the fight and I think it looked a bit like a long black pipe. Sorry, I didn’t get a proper look during the fighting, though.”

“You need not apologize. If anything, I’m impressed you managed to find out that much on such short notice and on the battlefield. Well done.”

“Thank ye kindly.” The man’s smile was more like a snarling bear.

One of the others seemed eager to capitalize and added a comment of his own. “Actually, that reminds me. He called the men with them ‘pipers.’”

“Pipers...”

What did he mean by that? Was it likening the noise to the instruments? Maybe because a straight metal tube looked like one? Whatever the case, the fact that there were thirty men used to—and accomplished in—using those “pipes” in battle weighed heavily on him.

“That may prove useful in the future, although I am unsure,” he said. “Either way, good work. Here is your payment, including for the tags, so exchange them if you would.”

At that, Ines—who had been waiting off to the side—brought three bags of coins out. Zenjirou personally handed them over, and the three men happily took the hefty bags.

“Thank ye kindly,” the first said.

“Nice weight to it,” added the second.

“Oh, Sir Zenjirou, I love you,” the third finished.

They had rather rudely each opened them and looked at the contents before cheering. Zenjirou smiled weakly while Freya slumped in embarrassment. Although allowing poor manners to pass in favor of competence was one thing, a superior would still be put out by their underlings acting in such a way.

Zenjirou would feel sorry for forcing Freya to stay in that situation for much longer, so he gave them leave to go.

“You may leave us now,” he told them.

“Right, ’scuse us.”

“Thank ye.”

“Yah! Let’s go!”

They left with much lighter steps than their bulky frames would suggest. Freya hurriedly called out after them.

“The men with tags will be out downtown. I won’t forbid some drinking and tomfoolery, but do not cause issues with them. Understood?”

“Yes!”

“Got it!”

“Don’t worry, we won’t lose to them!”

The three finally left with energetic—though perhaps disconcerting—yells.

“Oh, for the love of...”

Zenjirou couldn’t help but laugh at her sigh before offering some consolation. “For better or worse, they’re used to this sort of thing. I doubt it will amount to much.”

“Likewise. Still, there is the chance...” She let out a sigh with a sour look before forcing a smile back on her face as she changed tacks. “Your insight here has very much impressed me. You took a minor hint to the extreme.”

“Not at all. It was mostly coincidence and certainly not worth such an estimation.”

He wasn’t being modest; that was just how it was. This time, it had led to rather valuable information, but that was a one-in-a-hundred instance of his overly worrying nature playing out well.

“Even so, it is of great aid to me. It is important to get this information to my homeland as quickly as possible.”

Her comment prompted him to ask her opinion. “Then would you say that these weapons and their use are worth being wary of?”

Freya nodded immediately. “Of course. It goes without saying that a weapon capable of turning back the knights could change the battlefield immensely.”

“I think a large part of its success is that they didn’t know of it and this was the first time it was fielded.”

An unknown weapon was much like an ambush, but in tactics rather than a tactic itself. Assuming it would continue to perform as well would have you soon reaching an impasse.

While she agreed with what he was saying in general, Freya did not feel this was entirely the case. “Horses are delicate creatures to begin with. The sound and stench should remain effective on them for quite a while.”

“Animals can learn and become used to things, though. An untrained horse will bolt just at soldiers yelling, for example. When they are trained, though, they will happily canter across the battlefield. In which case, eventually the gunf—the noise of those new weapons will be something they train against.”

“You think we will see such horses?”

“I do.”

While Zenjirou’s memories were vague, horses had not disappeared from the front lines even after guns took on leading roles in warfare. There was something weighing even more heavily on his mind, though.

“You mentioned that, so far, magic has stamped out weapons using black powder. Do you think the same will happen with these?”

Freya considered his question seriously for a while before eventually shaking her head. “I am unsure. I believe there is the possibility, but the conditions are different this time. Prior examples were mostly siege equipment, heavy weapons for either assaulting or defending castles. That made it easy for a decent mage to aim and light them, in addition to ensuring that doing so had a significant effect. Thirty of them, each carried by a separate soldier, though, makes the situation very different.”

Put rather inhumanely, it made things cost-ineffective. Even on a national level, there were exceptionally few mages skilled enough to cast on the battlefield. Exposing some of them to danger to destroy a cannon for assaulting a castle might be worth it. Additionally, a single shot could take several minutes for a cannon, so it was rather unlikely the mage would die.

A few dozen soldiers was a different matter, though. A man-portable gun would not necessarily have sufficient gunpowder with it to kill its wielder even if they did light it. There were too many as well; a single mage would not necessarily be able to disable all of them with a single casting. If one of them managed to escape, the mage was then at much greater risk.

Mages of such value would be guarded, but a gun might manage to slip through the defenses and kill the mage regardless. Was it worth exposing the mage to such danger just to damage a few dozen guns and riflemen? Even Zenjirou’s rough estimations of reality on the battlefield made it obvious it was not cost-effective.

That train of thought then led to another realization. “Right, cost-effectiveness. Why no guns yet, even though there have been cannons? Well, maybe there have been, just very few?” he muttered to himself.

“Sir Zenjirou?” Freya asked, not catching what he had said from her position opposite him.

“Your Highness, have there been any recent—say, within the last few decades—major advances in ironwork?”

“Well, that is rather outside of my knowledge, although, I do remember an older warrior saying that ironware had gotten a lot cheaper than it used to be.” She had some general knowledge as a royal, but her youth meant she was unfamiliar with its history and progress.

“I see.”

Either improvement in furnaces or energy input through waterwheels had led to an increase in production. That, in turn, made guns economical to produce. Those were his assumptions, and they seemed to be borne out.

I’m a complete amateur, though, so this is practically just make-believe.

Still, he couldn’t ignore the possibility. At the very least, he had to tell Aura when he got back to Capua.

Mages won’t be enough against mass-produced guns. What’s the alternative, then? If there was a safer way to light the guns aflame, that’d work.

A figure flashed through Zenjirou’s mind: Fiqriya Animeeum of one of the four ducal families of Sharou-Gilbelle. She had shown him a spell that was called Jinnia Summoning. What the spell actually did was create a golem that followed the caster’s instructions. It was made of one of the four major elements.

In other words, fire, water, air, or earth. In and of itself, the spell was short-lived and of little utility, but the Twin Kingdoms had their trump card of enchanting.

Capua had marbles, a medium that drastically decreased the amount of time it took to create a magic tool. Therefore, if the two countries worked together, they could mass-produce magic tools to a degree far beyond what was currently possible.

If mass-produced water golems were set against soldiers with mass-produced guns, would that be more cost-effective?

It was at that point that Zenjirou realized he was letting his thoughts get away from him and brought his attention back to the present.

“Sir Zenjirou? Is something the matter?”

“No, nothing. I was simply thinking that the Northern Continent is advanced both technologically and socially.”

“Złota Wolność is the leading country even on the Northern Continent. Of course, I would say that my own homeland is in no way inferior in terms of blacksmithing.”

“That is heartening to hear.”

The countries on the Northern Continent were building up their strength and expanding. That expansion was not necessarily going to be across the land either. It made all too much sense for it to be via sea as well.

Zenjirou had already developed enough as royalty to see the threat that the tendency potentially represented.