350. Childhood Ep – Reinforcements

In the Aisel Kingdom, there’s a saying: “Tradition is learned from Grandmother, and writing from Grandfather.”

This phrase succinctly captures the social customs of the Aisel Kingdom, born from the mix of matriarchal barbarian tribes and exiled imperial citizens. Although the custom of following the paternal surname was established among the nobles since the royal family sought refuge here, for commoners who had no lineage to pass down, Grandmothers still remained the core of the family.

Thus, the scenery was quite strange. — Gilbert thought.

Female soldiers made up half of the marching army.

Their presence, absent in the Belita Kingdom, shocked Gilbert as he saw them marching cheerfully while carrying their gear alongside male soldiers. This was definitely foreign… He felt a sense of isolation.

Interestingly, despite being an army, it was quite an environment suited to his tastes.

He was fundamentally attracted to women and held a timelessly egalitarian view on female relationships.

As long as they were women, he saw them as potential romantic partners regardless of their status.

Of course, he did pay attention to their looks.

In any case, the combination of a mixed-gender army and the time spent in dull marching should have presented him with busy challenges.

Nonetheless, he was remarkably self-restrained, not having flirted or tossed a witty line at anyone since he sought asylum in the Aisel Kingdom. This was indeed quite astonishing.

As the sun set and the soldiers hurried to set up camp, Gilbert once again grabbed his sword.

As he swung his sword and warmed up, someone approached from behind. The figure wasn’t particularly big, but his distinct presence seemed to fill the air…

It was Sir Reb Bijan.

“You’ve come.”

“…”

Sir Reb, who responded with a nod, was a very reticent person.

But his piercing gaze made Gilbert misinterpret this man as someone who disliked him during their first meeting.

Of course, it was only their first encounter, so that couldn’t have been the case, and Gilbert had long since dismissed his overly sensitive thoughts with a chuckle. He recalled the moment when Reb had come to teach him swordsmanship.

It was indeed due to this person urging him that he took up swordsmanship again. The suspiciously young knight, whom his mother had brought in with great difficulty, had said:

“I will help your son meet Count Hermann Forte as you requested. However, the venue won’t be a noble negotiation table. You will meet on the battlefield, so your son must wield a weapon too.”

— He had said.

Looking back now, it seemed like a rather rude approach, but back then, Gilbert couldn’t help but laugh.

Meeting my father on the battlefield, with weapons drawn?

I can’t help but think he might lose his head the moment they meet.

This knight clearly had no understanding of Swordmasters or my great father, Count Hermann Forte.

But he only laughed and didn’t argue, as long as he could help me meet my father, he did not care if this man lost his life. To confess, he had underestimated him at the time.

— Sluung.

Sir Reb drew his sword.

Having warmed up in advance, Gilbert finished his memories and stepped forward as they began their training duel as usual.

It seemed that starting with a duel was Sir Reb’s teaching style. At this point, Gilbert could freely display his swordsmanship without being scolded, suggesting that Sir Reb was observing how his student interpreted and applied what he learned yesterday, and this was quite a generous teaching method.

Gilbert Forte reminisced the feeling of the sword hilt, becoming familiar again, recalling his training days when he burned with excitement.

Had my father taught swordsmanship in this manner, if he were as forgiving, wouldn’t everything have been different?

Whatever influence it might have had on me, at the very least, he wouldn’t have divorced my mother.

As sweat began to form, the duel reached its climax. Unknowingly, Gilbert deployed the secret technique of the count’s family.

That technique was to step with a rotation, deflecting the opponent’s attack and delivering a diagonal slash…

— Thud!

“Ugh.”

As expected, it was futile.

Sir Reb responded instantly as if he had seen this technique before. He charged the ground the moment Gilbert rotated and executed a shoulder bash.

Gilbert lost his balance and fell, ending the duel.

“Tsk. Too bad. Well done… Please help me up.”

Gilbert extended his hand with what he considered a fatal smile, still lying on the ground. Sir Reb hesitated but eventually took his hand and helped him up.

“Thank you. How was it today? I think I’ve improved a lot compared to yesterday…”

It was not as if he had predetermined the answer he wanted to hear. In reality, his swordsmanship was improving rapidly day by day.

[ Leo, you have become the continent’s strongest swordsman, but Lena has not yet caught up to you. As a token of consolation, I grant you the ability of {Swordsmanship Instructor}. ]

Sir Reb was indeed a skilled teacher, but it seemed that the abilities he had kept hidden were gradually emerging as well.

“You should have known better at your age,” he had once said to him, but at that time, he was merely twelve years old, and the standards of his father were absurdly high. Even from a general perspective… even when viewed from the knights’ viewpoint, who are considered geniuses when compared to ordinary people, Gilbert was an extraordinarily talented child.

That talent, after a long time, seemed to be rising like a phoenix from the ashes, awakening clean upon his softened palms.

Sir Reb didn’t deny it.

“Yes. You’ve improved. But remember, what I expect from you is not such complicated swordsmanship. Simply slash cleanly and stab effectively. Anything beyond that is unlikely to be of much help.”

“Yes~ I’ll do that. Shall we continue with the training from yesterday?”

Another nod. Sir Reb seemed to be out of things to say and started looking for a place to sit nearby. However, it didn’t seem like anywhere was suitable as the early spring approached and the snow began to melt.

He could just order a soldier to bring something.

Sir Reb rarely ordered others around, which sometimes made Gilbert feel frustrated. What was the point of taking on the bogus surname Bijan if he was going to act like this? What a peculiar person.

“Reb! Here. A chair.”

At that moment, a pretty girl named Leah appeared, happily bringing two wooden chairs. It seemed she had brought one for him to sit on.

“You said I didn’t have to come. Why are you here?”

“I came to bring a chair for Sir Reb Bijan~”

“…Thank you. Now go back.”

“No. The weather is nice, and the sunset is beautiful, so let’s stay a bit longer.”

…She hadn’t brought the chair for him to sit on.

From that point, Gilbert decided to ignore her.

For some reason, Sir Reb didn’t like it when he approached her.

He trained diligently in swordsmanship until it was time to return to the barracks, and only then did Reb bluntly reveal his true feelings.

“Stop coming over so often.”

“What’s the problem?”

“It’s not a matter of what’s the problem; I just don’t like it. It keeps reminding me of that incident with that guy.”

“Even though it wasn’t a big deal? He did act kind of petty. Trying to get me drunk and do who knows what.”

“…”

“But in the end, I didn’t even get a kiss. I just ended up expelled. I think I was pretty sad about it back then…”

Leah shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, gazing at the sunset.

“Even so, I don’t like it.”

“Hmm? What is this stubbornness? I’m telling you, I’m fine with it.”

“…”

“It really wasn’t a big deal. I think Daniel, my older brother, might have misunderstood something. The only person who knew I received a bracelet from that guy was him, and the priest who was interrogating mentioned the bracelet. So it must be a mistake on Daniel’s part…”

“Who’s Daniel again?”

Huh?

Reb interrupted her, cutting her off, but he wasn’t even looking at her.

What is this guy?

Leah moved a chair and perched herself right in front of Reb, leaning forward with a playful look.

“Sir Reb Bijan.”

“…You don’t add ‘Sir’ to a title. A title stands on its own…”

“Are you perhaps feeling jealous?”

“No. Why would there be jealousy between us…”

“Indeed. The great Bijan family’s heir and a future Swordmaster wouldn’t feel that way, would he? Not over a mere priest apprentice.”

“Oh, so he’s a fellow apprentice? I thought he was…”

“No. The fellow apprentice is a guy named Veronian, and Daniel is my senior.”

“Veronian? Don’t touch me.”

“Rude.”

“Don’t pull me either. Ouch! Ah! For real, stop!”

Gilbert thought he was skilled in both martial and sword techniques. But Leah’s kiss was unavoidable.

Reb, surprised, pulled his neck back and was met with Leah’s advance. She gradually stood up, pushing him back. He wasn’t sure if her chair tipped over.

As their lips parted, Leah’s face filled his vision. The dusk made her face blush.

For some unknown reason, Leah looked exceedingly happy.

“Now you see me like this.”

“What, what do you mean?”

“Shut up. I’m just really happy right now. You naughty boy.”

“…”

“Reb.”

“What?”

“Just.”

Leah patted his cheek. Gazing lovingly at each other, she called out again.

“Reb.”

“…Leah.”

“Ugh, that’s a bit creepy.”

What am I supposed to do about that?

Reb pulled her close and seated her on his lap. Satisfied, she wrapped her arms around his neck and said:

“Reb, you know~”

In a soft, subtle voice.

“I’m missing Noya and Soya. How about you?”

*

“Say that again. What? Twelve thousand?”

“Y-yes.”

“Shit, are you kidding me?”

The Commander-in-Chief looked ready to flip the table at any moment. But instead of throwing the pile of operation reports on the table, he vented his frustration by throwing an ink bottle.

He swept his hair back, then asked the messenger again, sounding utterly disbelieving.

“Ha ha, come on. This is a joke, right? I distinctly heard fifteen thousand were coming?”

“…”

“I knew it was a lie, too. While we’re fighting our asses off on the front line, if you say you’ll send reinforcements like it’s no big deal, spirits will lift, right? But what? Twelve thousand is just… not enough, you son of a bitch!! Get out! Right now!! Tell the prince not to show his face until he’s brought ten thousand more!!”

The messenger bolted out without looking back.

The Commander, no, ‘Duke Maximus of the Western Front,’ who would soon hand over the position of Commander-in-Chief to Prince Vivian and oversee the supply of goods on the front line, struggled to calm himself alone, wondering if that messenger would relay his exact words to the prince…

But there was no denying that twelve thousand reinforcements were utterly unacceptable.

The enemy would muster at least thirty thousand troops, and the Belita Kingdom had several great nobles who could rival many royal families and were likely to reinforce their forces significantly depending on the situation.

Above all, Count Hermann Forte, the Swordmaster, was on the other side.

Good grief~ there’s no end to this.

While Duke Maximus of the Empire was deep in thought, a noise came from outside the tent.

“What? Whoever it is, don’t come in. I’m not in a good mood right now.”

“…Excuse me.”

“Don’t come in… oh. It’s Baron Trudy. Did the prince send you?”

“Yes. He said you must be quite angry, so he sent me to check up on you.”

“You really do know. Then I’m sorry, but may I vent a bit?”

“Feel free.”

“…Not much is coming out. Please sit. Let’s hear what brilliant strategy you’re proposing.”

“Do you really think I have some brilliant idea?”

Duke Maximus replied, sounding rather unimpressed.

“They must have sent you because I couldn’t say it to the messenger. You’re not in the mood either?”

“I’m good.”

Duke Maximus lit a cigarette.

The man had thin limbs and a plump belly, but his lung capacity was impressive, as smoke quickly filled the tent.

And though you wouldn’t say it, thanks to that smoke, Baron Trudy managed to quietly deliver information to him that he hadn’t been able to share with the messenger before disappearing from the front line.

As the piquant confrontations between the Belita Kingdom and Aisel Kingdom raged on, at the border region, the forces, supplies, and battle atmosphere of the two kingdoms accumulated, heralding an impending storm of bloodshed.