I'll Handle Everything (2)
Andrew stammered as he spoke to the envoy.
"T-That doesn't make any sense! It was simply a matter of failing to negotiate a price with the mercenary corps!"
"Hmph! Tripling the hiring fee is an insult to the count! How could such behavior be tolerated?"
"Then take it up with the mercenary corps! Why are you coming after me?"
Andrew looked truly aggrieved. The world was already a harsh place, which was why he had lived quietly, avoiding any trouble that might be used against him.
Nordhill was a small territory with no valuable resources. No lords coveted it, and as long as he didn't make any enemies, he could survive in peace.
But now, he was being given a declaration of war over something utterly absurd. It was enough to drive him mad.
The envoy responded with a condescending look, as if Andrew was too dim-witted to grasp the obvious.
"Lord Andrew, it is well known that you maintain a close relationship with the Yulian Mercenary Corps. A lord must take responsibility for the actions of those under him."
"I'm not their lord."
"But you are their employer, are you not?"
"The contract has already ended. We're simply on friendly terms."
"Then consider it the price of that friendship."
Such arrogance was unbecoming of a mere envoy. Yet, Andrew and his retainers swallowed their resentment, unable to protest.
In a world where strength dictated justice, weakness was a crime.
Andrew pleaded, his voice laced with desperation.
"Even so, how can you wage war on such a flimsy pretext? The other nobles won't stand for this."
"Who, exactly, would dare oppose us?"
"......"
Andrew fell silent under the envoy's intimidation. The justification was absurd and forced, yet the envoy wasn't wrong.
At least in this region, no noble would dare challenge Count Crest. Even if lords from other territories voiced their disapproval, it would only happen after the deed was done.
By then, it would be meaningless. Count Crest would endure nothing more than mild criticism.
'By then, my territory will already be destroyed, and I'll be dead.'
Andrew's face turned haggard in an instant.
His few retainers were just as pale. They were furious and felt wronged, but fear and anxiety outweighed their anger.
With the room firmly under his control, the envoy smirked and continued.
"There is a way out of this."
"W-What is it? If it can prevent war, I will do anything. Please, tell me."
Andrew spoke with exaggerated deference, bowing his head to a mere envoy.
But power lay with the other side. In this world, a powerful noble's dog ranked higher than a powerless noble.
The envoy, exuding arrogance, stated his terms.
"This entire situation arose due to the insolence of the Yulian Mercenary Corps."
"....And?"
"Therefore, if the Yulian Mercenary Corps submits to the count's will, or..."
"Or?"
"If you choose to side with us and punish them accordingly. Naturally, that includes participating in the war that follows."
"What the..."
Andrew was utterly dumbfounded. This was beyond absurd.
He was being ordered to betray a mercenary corps that had done nothing wrong, effectively casting aside his own honor.
And if the mercenaries refused to submit, he was expected to offer up his own troops instead.
As a lord with independent authority, he was essentially being told to serve as a substitute mercenary force.
It was a humiliation beyond words. He could kill the envoy on the spot, and it would still be justified.
But what could he do? Strength dictated the law, and he had none.
Suppressing his fury with inhuman patience, Andrew responded.
"The Yulian Mercenary Corps is innocent. Even if they refuse the count's request, how can I attack those who have committed no crime?"
"In that case, you may share their punishment."
"I am also innocent."
"That is not for you to decide."
The envoy remained composed. In the end, Andrew had only two choices.
'He either convinces the Yulian Mercenary Corps to surrender or hands over his own troops.'
That was the law of the world, the undeniable truth. The envoy believed this wholeheartedly.
Andrew glared at the envoy for a long while before speaking.
"Stay here for now. I will speak with the Yulian Mercenary Corps."
"Very well. But I advise you not to take too long."
"I understand. I will make my decision as quickly as possible. Now, please wait elsewhere."
After dismissing the envoy, Andrew immediately sought out the Yulian Mercenary Corps.
His face was filled with despair as he explained the situation.
"What should I do? They want me to attack you. If not, they demand you join Count Crest's war effort."
Ghislain and the mercenary officers were unsurprised. Ghislain had already predicted this.
After hearing Andrew's lament, Ghislain asked,
"Lord Andrew, what do you want to do?"
"I don't know. I don't want to fight the count, but I also can't force you to participate in the war. I heard you already refused his request."
"You could always side with Count Crest and attack us, as he wishes."
Ghislain joked, but Andrew recoiled in horror.
"Never! How could I betray my benefactors like that? I am not such a man!"
Tyrann smirked at Andrew's words.
Having dealt with many nobles as a mercenary, he knew how they operated.
Andrew was still a noble. He might speak nobly now, but in the end, he would be scheming ways to trap them.
Tyrann spoke frankly.
"Baron, you're in a tough spot, so why don't we just run to another region? You can pretend to chase us."
Ghislain shook his head.
"No. That would only be a temporary fix. If we flee, the lord will have to send his own troops to war."
Without the Yulian Mercenary Corps, Andrew would have to provide a replacement force. That was unacceptable.
But there was no alternative. The Yulian Mercenary Corps had already refused to fight for Count Crest.
Realizing this, Andrew sighed deeply.
"There's no choice. Leave quickly. I will try to negotiate by offering resources instead of troops."
The best solution for Andrew was for the Yulian Mercenary Corps to accept the count's request.
But he could not bring himself to demand such a thing from the people who had saved his territory.
Nor could he offer his own troops, as Count Crest would surely place them in the vanguard to be slaughtered.
"I cannot let my soldiers die for nothing. I will plead with Baron Lacus to lend me money and offer that instead."
"Hmm..."
Ghislain nodded. That might convince Count Crest—just this once.
After all, Baron Lacus' territory had been producing a great deal of gold recently.
But it was not a long-term solution.
"If you do that, you might avoid disaster this time. But what about next time?"
"Next... time?"
"Yes. Do you really think Count Crest will stop at defeating Count Swipel?"
"......"
"He's prioritizing Count Swipel because that side is still holding out. But once he's done there, he'll turn his eyes to Baron Lacus' gold mines. And when that happens, do you think he'll spare this territory?"
"......"
The realization hit Andrew like a brick. His doom was inevitable. Even if he survived this crisis, his destruction was merely postponed.
"T-Then... what do I do…?"
Ghislain's eyes gleamed.
"Baron, have you ever considered raising your rank?"
"Huh? A title?"
"Why not aim for the rank of count?"
"A count…?"
Andrew, being a straightforward man, was also simple in his thinking. He briefly imagined himself as a count, and a grin spread across his face.
"Ah, being a count sounds great. I always wanted to be one."
"Then this is your chance."
"How?"
"How else? We fight Count Crest and win. Take his entire territory for yourself."
"......."
The Yulian Mercenary Corps had already resolved to fight if Count Crest provoked them.
Thus, none of them were particularly shocked by Ghislain's words. They merely observed the situation unfold.
Ghislain was serious. From what he had seen, nobles like Andrew and Rio were rare in this kingdom. That was why he had decided to raise them into key figures in the realm.
Of course, the most important factor was Andrew's resolve. At this moment, he needed to decide for himself whether he would seize power.
Andrew stared at Ghislain with trembling eyes. No matter how he looked at it, this didn't sound like a joke.
"Can we… actually win?"
"Of course."
"I know the Yulian Mercenary Corps is strong, but there's too big a difference in numbers..."
"Baron Lacus can send reinforcements. He has plenty of gold, so it'll be a great help. Besides, he doesn't have a choice."
Rio was a cautious and worrisome man by nature. Even though his gold mines had made his territory prosperous, he barely slept at night, fearing invasion.
No matter how much gold he had, his small territory couldn't produce enough other resources, nor could he strengthen his military as quickly as he wanted.
He was hiring mercenaries and increasing his troops, but the process was inevitably slow.
So when he heard that Count Crest was marching on Nordhill, he would certainly intervene. He knew well enough that he was next on the list.
However, even if Nordhill and Lacus joined forces, defeating Count Crest was another matter entirely.
Andrew was a man who knew how to calculate odds. He pointed out the problem.
"It's still not enough. Even if both territories scrape together every soldier and the Yulian Mercenary Corps fights with us, we might barely reach three thousand troops."
"Baron."
"Yes?"
"I'll say it again. We can win. Leave everything to me."
"......."
"If you trust me."
Andrew stared intently at Ghislain.
There wasn't a single trace of hesitation in his eyes. They shone with absolute confidence.
Andrew wanted to bet on that gaze—with his own fate.
Even if he lost and died, it was better than living as another noble's lapdog. He knew all too well of Count Crest's vicious reputation.
Every territory the count conquered became a living hell. Bandits ran rampant, and the people suffered immensely.
'The chances of victory might be slim… but if we don't fight, we have no chance at all.'
After a brief moment of contemplation, Andrew made his decision.
For himself.
For everyone in his land.
Andrew smirked.
"To hell with it. Let's do it."
"You've made the right choice. A tyrant deserves punishment, doesn't he?"
"If we're going to fight, let's do it right."
Andrew grinned and stood up. The envoy's arrogance had already enraged him to no end.
He was as bold as he was simple. And as simple as he was bold.
Summoning the envoy, Andrew spoke.
"I have made my decision."
"Oh? That was faster than I expected. What have you decided?"
The envoy smirked.
Whether Andrew had convinced the mercenaries or chosen to align with Count Crest, it didn't matter. What mattered was that he had bowed to their will.
But Andrew's response was entirely unexpected.
"Break that bastard's arm."
"...What?"
The envoy's face twisted in shock. The knights in the room widened their eyes in confusion.
Andrew repeated himself.
"I cannot forgive a lowly envoy for daring to threaten a noble. Break his arm and send him back."
The knights finally understood their lord's intent.
The thought of war was terrifying, but at least in this moment, they felt relieved.
As the knight commander stepped forward, the envoy panicked. His two guards were waiting outside, unaware of the situation unfolding within.
He had never anticipated this outcome.
"Wait, s-stop! What are you doing?! Do you truly wish for war?!"
"You were going to attack us anyway. Did you think I'd be scared?"
Andrew had been terrified—but now that he had decided to fight, fear no longer held him.
The knight commander grabbed the envoy's arm. For a knight, breaking a mere messenger's limb was an effortless task.
CRACK!
"AAARRGGHH!!"
The envoy screamed as his arm shattered.
He had no idea why this mad lord had suddenly changed his stance. Just moments ago, he had seemed terrified. How had the entire atmosphere shifted so completely?
As the envoy writhed in pain, Andrew calmly wrote a letter.
"I'll put my response in writing. Deliver it properly."
He tucked the letter into the envoy's coat himself.
Of course, the envoy wouldn't be leaving immediately. They needed to buy time for Baron Lacus' reinforcements to arrive.
For several days, the envoy remained imprisoned, reduced to a ragged mess by the time he was finally released. He barely managed to return to Count Crest and deliver the letter.
Count Crest took one look at the envoy's pitiful state and understood the situation immediately.
Still, curiosity got the better of him. He unfolded the letter.
[Bring it on, you bastard. I'll feed you to the ducks.]
The count set the letter down with an icy expression.
"Mobilize the entire army. We'll crush Nordhill first."
Having already prepared for war, Count Crest's forces immediately began marching toward Nordhill.
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