As night fell, Lucian addressed the knights.
"The soldiers must be utterly exhausted after such fierce fighting. Let's rest for a day in each village as we go."
"…What?"
At Lucian's sudden suggestion, Gerard blinked in surprise.
If they marched quickly, they could arrive and rest much sooner—why insist on stopping in every village?
Rather than easing fatigue, wouldn't that only prolong the journey home?
"Third Young Master, in my opinion—"
"Shh. We'll talk later. I have my reasons for this."
Lucian cut Gerard off, placing a finger to his lips.
Raymond and the other knights all wore puzzled expressions, yet they obeyed Lucian without complaint.
Up to now, Lucian had never done anything without purpose.
Following Lucian's intent, the Valdeck force decided to stay the night in a small village.
"O-oh my! My, my lords—what brings you here…?"
"We'll rest here for one night. We'll pay, of course, so prepare meals for the soldiers."
"Y-yes! I'll get everything ready at once!"
The village chief hurriedly ordered people about to prepare to receive the soldiers.
The place was so small that there were scarcely enough houses to offer as lodging, but the soldiers remained quiet, as if well accustomed to such conditions.
The villagers, who had been trembling at first, relaxed once they saw that these elite troops were strictly disciplined and showed no sign of looting.
"It would be best for you to stay in the house where I live, milord. It's humble, but it's the finest place our village has to offer…"
"That will be sufficient. Thank you."
Perhaps because it was such a small village, even the chief's house was nothing remarkable.
Still, it was larger than the others, spacious enough to accommodate more than a dozen people.
After entering the chief's house, Lucian gathered the knights and spoke.
"Let's slow our march instead of heading straight to Kelheim."
"What do you mean by that all of a sudden?"
"Think about it. If we go directly to Kelheim from here, will anyone even recognize our achievements? In my view, most people will just be confused, not knowing what actually happened."
At Lucian's words, the knights all nodded in unison.
Ordinarily, the detailed reality of a war only became widely known as rumors spread during the formal distribution of merits and rewards.
Of course, rumors could circulate even before that, but usually because it took plenty of time for everyone to gather at the Imperial Palace.
In a case like this, where the war ended and everyone dispersed immediately, there simply wasn't enough time for news to spread.
"Straight-laced people believe that if you act correctly, others will recognize it someday. But that's an illusion. No matter what you do, if you don't make it known yourself, no one will acknowledge it."
"Are you saying that…?"
"Before returning to Kelheim, I intend to let word spread about how this war actually unfolded. Of course, I can't say it myself—I'll have to let it spread through other mouths."
At this completely unexpected statement, the knights exchanged glances and murmured among themselves.
As nobles, they were not ignorant of politics, but it would be hard to say they had any real aptitude for it either.
While they struggled to grasp how they should take Lucian's plan, Gerard, his aide, finally spoke up.
"But wouldn't that be tantamount to exposing the Imperial family's shame? His Majesty the Emperor avoided even holding a formal distribution of merits—so for us to step forward and spread the story ourselves seems a bit…"
"Then, Sir Gerard, are you content to be lumped together with the allied army as a whole and treated like a defeated remnant? Your own achievements would be buried along with them."
"…Hm."
Struck squarely by the point, Gerard fell silent.
It was galling enough to have one's merits buried—there was no reason to shoulder someone else's failures as well.
Ordinary soldiers might be satisfied with material rewards alone, but for knights, reputation was everything.
"And if you're thinking, It'll be fine once the truth comes out later, you'd best discard that notion. The other brothers will desperately try to bury my achievements just to keep me in check. Remember this well—this is the last chance to raise your own name."
The hesitant knights seemed to snap back to their senses at those words, exchanging looks with one another.
Then, one after another, they raised their voices.
"The Third Young Master is right. If we had no achievements, that would be one thing—but what meaning is there in hiding the merits we've earned?"
"Taking on criticism we don't deserve isn't a virtue—it's nothing more than foolishness. I'll follow the Third Young Master's judgment."
"I'll follow as well!"
"So will I!"
With their own reputations at stake, the knights united and rallied behind Lucian.
Lucian smiled in satisfaction, then rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"It's good that everyone agrees, but the problem is how to spread the rumors while drawing as little attention to ourselves as possible. Sir Raymond, do you have any ideas?"
"I'm afraid you're asking the wrong person. If anything, my specialty is hiding things from others."
Raymond, who served as Lucian's bodyguard, scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
He wasn't lacking in experience with covert operations, but those had all involved avoiding attention—this sort of agitation and rumor-spreading was unfamiliar territory.
Lucian, on the other hand, had often engaged in such maneuvering himself, but almost always carried it out personally; delegating it to others was new to him as well.
I don't have a trustworthy adjutant, and I can't just leave the army behind while wandering from place to place. And in this body… no one would take me seriously anyway.
Even if he concealed his identity, with a body barely sixteen years old, no one would truly believe what he said.
To spread rumors, one needed the air of someone who had weathered the storms of the world to some extent.
After some thought, Lucian summoned Hugo, who was in the middle of his rest.
"How's the job as squad leader going? Is it working out well?"
"At this point, it's no longer grudging acceptance—they all acknowledge me as their leader. My performance in the previous battle must have left quite an impression."
Hugo shrugged with a proud expression.
Being recognized among elite soldiers, rather than back-alley thugs, clearly gave him a deep sense of satisfaction.
"Then why did you call for me? You said you wouldn't summon me until we returned, since rumors might spread that I'm receiving special treatment."
"There's a problem I need help with."
Lucian explained the situation to Hugo—
that he wanted the rumors about this battle to spread as naturally as possible,
and that he was struggling to find someone suited for the task.
After hearing it all, Hugo beamed and thumped his chest.
"You came to the right person. I've got just the man for this kind of job."
"You're going to step in yourself? Well, given your life in the underworld, deliberately spreading rumors should be…"
"No, not me—one of my men."
"What? Someone in your squad?"
So, just an ordinary soldier?
Then again, given that an army naturally gathered all sorts of people, it wouldn't be strange if a suitable candidate existed.
"He dreamed of becoming a bard, but his father forced him into the army, telling him to stop chasing foolish dreams. Soldiering seems to suit him well enough now, but he can really spin a tale like no other."
Hugo went on enthusiastically, saying the man could have made it as a professional storyteller.
With Hugo vouching for him this strongly, his ability seemed certain—but Lucian found himself worried about a different matter.
"But can that fellow really spin the story without arousing suspicion? It would be troublesome if it became obvious that I put him up to it."
"You wouldn't even need to give him an order, would you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Men love nothing more than telling their own war stories, don't they? If you send them off to another village or two under some flimsy pretext, they'll spread everything on their own."
At Hugo's words, Lucian's eyes lit up.
Come to think of it, that was simply how men were.
Preoccupied with grand designs in both his past and present lives, he had forgotten such an obvious impulse.
Once, Lucian himself had been an eager youngster, busy boasting of his own exploits.
"Hugo, as supreme commander, I need to give you an order."
"An order? To me, not my men?"
"My appetite's been poor lately, but all of a sudden I'm craving salted venison. Take your squad and go around the surrounding area to procure the finest meat you can."
As Hugo tilted his head in confusion, a grin spread across his lips.
He then bowed deeply and replied with an air of playful composure.
"I'll inquire here and there and make sure to share as many stories as possible before returning, Supreme Commander."
***
Lucian used one excuse after another to slow their advance as much as possible.
Meanwhile, Hugo led his squad and roamed the Valdeck territory in every direction.
"What? So the war's already over?"
"I'm telling you! They broke the Grand Pact—what else could be done? We had to come back before they even thought of poisoning us."
"My goodness, poisoning! Were any of you hurt?"
"Hurt? Not at all! If anything, we were charging across the battlefield alongside Lord Lucian, making a name for ourselves!"
The members of Hugo's squad spent freely on the funds Lucian had provided, eating, drinking, and chatting to their hearts' content.
Without any need for explicit orders—and simply because no one told them to keep their mouths shut—the detailed course of the battle spilled out endlessly from their lips.
In particular, the soldier Hugo had mentioned unleashed his talent to the fullest, enthusiastically recounting Lucian's exploits.
"Turns out, later we learned that His Highness the First Imperial Prince insulted Lord Lucian, telling him to fall back if he was scared. Can you believe that? When all Lord Lucian did was speak out of concern for His Highness."
"Hah! So what happened after that?"
"What else? He had no choice but to fall back. But even then, Lord Lucian showed his foresight—he decided to secretly follow from behind. Just to make sure His Highness reached Bodiam Fortress safely."
"My word, if he'd been caught, that'd have been outright disobedience of orders."
"So did he get caught and scolded again?"
"Quite the opposite! Just as Lord Lucian predicted, a signal flame shot up—fwoosh, crackle, crackle! As if he'd foreseen everything, he turned back and said, in that heavy voice of his, 'We march.' And then—!"
With only a few details omitted, the raw, unfiltered truth spread throughout the Valdeck territory.
Lucian's confrontation with Marquis Bernhardt, the First Imperial Prince's folly, the violation of the Grand Pact, the rescue of the allied army, and even the Emperor's arrival—all of it.
Captivated by the thrilling tale, the people talked endlessly about the battle.
Before long, the news reached the ears of Grand Duke Sigmund in Kelheim—and of Lucian's other brothers as well.
"We must summon that fool here at once!"
Jordi shouted at the Grand Duke, his face flushed crimson.
The veins standing out on his forehead throbbed as if they might burst at any moment.
"If the battle is over, it is a commander's duty to return immediately and report the situation! Yet he abandons that duty, dawdles about, and brags about his own achievements—how can there be such thoughtless behavior in this world!"
"It's true that our brother earned merit, but the allied army was defeated. For the Empire, that is a tragedy. Spreading the story so loudly like this doesn't look good by any objective standard."
Joshua chimed in after Jordi.
Unlike his furious brother, he maintained a façade of composure, but the irritation seeping through his voice was impossible to hide.
Tristan, evidently no happier, added a remark of his own in support of his younger brothers' arguments.
"Setting everything else aside, this is a matter His Majesty the Emperor was trying as hard as possible to bury. Going against that intent and spreading the details far and wide cannot be considered sound political conduct."
"Hm."
At his sons' objections, Grand Duke Sigmund rubbed his chin in thought.
There was indeed a fair amount about this incident that could be taken issue with, even where Lucian was concerned.
Seeing the Grand Duke hesitate, Jordi thought his argument had landed and raised his voice.
"Father, you must summon that wretch Lucian at once and reprimand him in front of others! If this continues, people will inevitably start hailing that fool as a hero!"
"In front of others?"
"Yes! That way everyone will see his true nature as well—!"
"Tsk!"
The Grand Duke clicked his tongue loudly and glared at Jordi.
Startled by the sudden change, Jordi flinched.
"W-what is it?"
"Pathetic. The third has his faults, but you would ruin everything over a petty grudge."
"…What?"
"Did the third achieve those merits alone? The merits he earned belong equally to every soldier and knight who fought alongside him. And yet you'd tear him down in front of others? Those who risked their lives under our family's banner would surely be delighted."
Struck by the Grand Duke's scathing rebuke, Jordi fell silent, as if struck dumb.
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