84 - The Third Generation's Past
It happened at a cafe in the royal capital.
I had tagged along with Clara, who was heading out to spend her day off.
I followed her as she went to buy books, and by noon, we had toured the bookstores of the royal capital searching for books Clara had yet to read.
As usual, Clara became so absorbed in her books that she forgot about eating, and with a wry smile, I ended up treating her to lunch.
After finishing our meal, while sipping tea, I picked up one of the books Clara had purchased.
The title was "The Miracle of Lemrant," and it detailed the war in which the Third Generation made the Wolt name known throughout the country.
As I read it—
(No way.)
I felt a vague sense of skepticism.
In the Miracle of Vanseim, the Third Generation, Slay Wolt, was a Baronet.
In the book, he is depicted as giving advice to the King.
During this era, Vanseim was expanding its territory significantly by defeating a country called Lemrant.
They had been challenging neighboring countries to war, but lacked a decisive blow.
They continued to achieve small victories, steadily expanding their territory through modest gains.
However, the Kingdom of Lemrant was a great power, and Vanseim was struggling.
The reason the Third Generation became famous was that he sacrificed himself for the sake of victory in a battle they could not afford to lose—
"Your Majesty! You must not divide the army here. If the enemy achieves a breakthrough at a single point, we are too few in number! The main camp will be left vulnerable!"
The King replied.
"I know, Slay. But if we do not strike them here, the future of Vanseim will not open. Against an enemy that launches an attack, if we do not win a great victory here, we will be worn down. Our only path is to take a great gamble!"
The Third Generation responded.
"Your Majesty... I understand. I, Slay Wolt, shall accompany you to the very end."
Thus, the Vanseim army, which attempted to divide its forces to surround the enemy despite their numerical superiority, found its main camp endangered by a single-point breakthrough from the enemy.
The Third Generation shouted.
"Your Majesty, please escape!"
The King replied.
"How could I do such a thing! Take my sword! You shall hold them back here!"
The Third Generation...
"What are you saying! Your Majesty, you are the one necessary for the future of Vanseim. Leave everything to me, Slay. I shall certainly buy the time needed for your retreat."
Saying so, the Third Generation ordered all the soldiers he brought to charge, buying time for Vanseim to reorganize, surround the enemy once more, and achieve victory.
The King, having slain the enemy's commander-in-chief, declared.
"This victory... could not have been achieved without Slay. He is truly the Righteous General of Vanseim!"
That was the kind of content written in the book, but—
The Third Generation, seeing such content through me, spoke in a low voice.
"...What is this? This is the worst. Who is it? Who wrote such pathetic fabrications as if they were the truth? Are they an idiot?"
He was considerably irritated.
Clara looked at me after I finished reading the book.
"How was it? From the perspective of the Wolt family, is that book factual?"
When asked, the Third Generation spoke.
"Lyell, please tell Clara-chan that this is too cruel. I mean, if this is Vanseim's official announcement, I'd be forgiven for punching that incompetent fool into oblivion."
The Fifth Generation spoke.
"Is there something different? Setting aside the dialogue, it is a fact that you contributed to the victory by buying time for the retreat, isn't it?"
The Third Generation shouted.
"It's completely different! I will never forgive that piece of trash! Because I was the one who slew the enemy's commander-in-chief!"
The Fourth Generation said.
"Eh, that's the first I've heard of it..."
The Third Generation screamed.
"That incompetent bastard!!"
(It's rare to see the Third Generation in such a bad mood.)
I gave my honest impression to Clara.
"...The content is, well, too different from the facts."
"Is it different? Then I would be happy if you could tell me the facts passed down in the Wolt family. Most books contain the same content."
At Clara's words, the Third Generation became eager.
"Tell her, Lyell! Now is the time to tell the truth!"
(No, I don't know anything more than what's in the book!)
As I rolled the Jewel Orb with my fingertip to show my refusal, the Third Generation cried.
"Whyyyyy!!"
He seemed very dissatisfied.
"I don't know the details either. I'll need some time to try and remember," I said with a wry smile, and Clara nodded.
"There may be knowledge known only to descendants, and there may be incorrect content. I look forward to it."
Looking truly happy, Clara picked up the book placed on the table.
It seemed she intended to read all the books piled up right there in the cafe.
I spoke to the waiter.
"Excuse me. Two more teas, please."
Since it would be bad to order nothing, I ordered drinks.
(Well, this isn't so bad. It's more meaningful than yesterday's gambling.)
Thinking that, I borrowed one of Clara's books and began reading.
In the middle of the night.
The one who forcibly brought me into the Jewel Orb as I was trying to sleep was the Third Generation, who was still dissatisfied with the events of the afternoon.
I said.
"I mean, you didn't have to go this far."
Then.
"I don't want to! I absolutely hate the idea of people thinking I died for that guy! I'm going to show you the reality now, so Lyell, make sure you remember it!"
Perhaps he hated it that much, for the usually mild-mannered Third Generation was irritated.
The Fourth Generation, who was also inside the Jewel Orb, looked a bit exasperated as he joined in.
"Well, if it makes you feel better, I guess it's fine. Though I don't really want to see it."
The Fourth Generation seemed to have complex emotions.
After all, the one who had helped them in various ways and allowed them to be promoted to a Baron family was the King whom the Third Generation hated.
Guided by the Third Generation, the Fourth Generation and I entered the Third Generation's room.
The manor of the Wolt family, having become a Baronet family, was larger than it had been in the Second Generation's time.
The furniture and decorations had become more luxurious, but perhaps because the Third Generation was indifferent, there weren't many of them.
The Fourth Generation said.
"This brings back memories."
The Third Generation, with a bit of irritation, spoke.
"You say we were helped by being promoted, but basically, the Baronet family had better income. There's quite a bit of freedom, whereas becoming a Baron family means having to look after everyone around you... it's just really tedious!"
The Third Generation did not seem happy that the Wolt family had become a Baron family.
As we walked through the manor, servants were working with smiles on their faces.
I thought—
"Like in the First Generation's time, or the Second's... the servants feel more like family."
Then, the Third Generation spoke.
"That's because I took in widows and children without parents from the village and had them work at the manor. I hate stiffness; as long as they act serious when guests visit, it's fine."
The Fourth Generation said.
"In my time, no one entered the manor unless they were properly educated... Come to think of it, I was scolded for that."
Leaving the manor and stepping outside, the town came into view.
A market was open, and it was full of vitality.
The hard work of the First and Second Generations was bearing fruit here.
Then, as we walked through the town, the surrounding scenery changed into a battlefield.
The Third Generation was giving orders from atop a horse.
"Keep the enemy stalled just like this! There's no need to win. Just pin them down so they can't send reinforcements!"
Giving orders with a lack of enthusiasm while clad in armor was, if one were to say, typical of the Third Generation.
The residents of the territory, trained by the Second Generation, were fighting according to the Third Generation's instructions.
The knights surrounding the Third Generation were also an elite group.
While watching this, the Third Generation spoke to us as he walked.
"Ever since that incompetent fool ascended, he's been picking fights with all the neighboring countries. The part about us being invaded is a lie. Vanseim was reasonably large, so even if the opponent made a move, it ended as mere skirmishes between border lords."
Then, the scene shifted to a military council inside a large tent.
The King, with short, peculiar red hair, sat in a large chair with an arrogant attitude during the council.
The Third Generation, glaring at a young man, spoke.
"...This incompetent fool, upon ascending, wanted to leave his name in history or some such reason, and so he repeated wars. He was the kind of guy who said we could just loot for rewards and divide the seized land..."
The King spoke.
"We shall achieve a great victory here and devour Lemrant, who called me reckless! We have achieved numerous victories, but this time shall be the greatest battle of all."
It was a war where both sides had prepared armies in the tens of thousands.
At the military council, the Third Generation stood beside the Baron who managed the region at the time.
The King said.
"I shall divide the army into five. We will surround and crush the enemy who charges in, thinking our main camp is vulnerable. If we achieve a great victory here and sap the enemy's strength, we can simply overrun Lemrant! The rewards shall be whatever you desire!"
Upon hearing this, the gathered nobles showed various expressions.
Some shouted with great joy.
Some were expressionless.
Some looked displeased.
The Third Generation explained.
"If you take soldiers from your territory and make them fight, soldiers die. Those are the residents. Having too many is a problem, but because the fighting continued, there was a shortage of manpower everywhere. I too saw off dozens of soldiers who died."
The Third Generation, who had prepared nearly a hundred soldiers, seemed to be a retainer.
The Baron seemed to rely on him and asked for his opinion.
"Slay, do you think we can win?"
"...You're floating on clouds. If the enemy targets the main camp with a single-point breakthrough, it's over. Moreover, because of the continuous fighting, the soldiers' proficiency is low. There are lords who cannot even properly provide equipment."
Hearing the Third Generation's opinion that it would fail, the Baron spoke.
"Your Majesty. It is dangerous to leave the main camp too vulnerable. If anything were to happen to Your Majesty, Vanseim would..."
Then, the King laughed.
"Hahaha, to people of that level? Do you think we will lose, Baron?"
When told this and the surrounding gazes gathered, the Baron spoke weakly.
"No, it is not that..."
Then, as the battle began, the main camp became frantic.
A blood-stained messenger arrived at the main camp—
"T-the enemy, even though they are surrounded, are heading straight for the main camp..."
"I-impossible!"
Standing up from his luxurious chair, the King confirmed with the messenger repeatedly.
"They're going straight despite being surrounded! Why! According to my plan, the enemy should have lost their will to fight..."
The surroundings were in chaos, and they should retreat immediately.
However, an argument broke out, stating that the enemy was already right there.
The most terrifying thing on a battlefield is a retreat.
Attacking while chasing a fleeing enemy.
Soldiers and knights who show their backs and are defenseless are easily cut down.
Then, the Third Generation sighed and stepped before the King.
"Hey."
"W-what is it, you!"
"I'm Slay Wolt of the Baronet family... more importantly, hurry up and give orders. This happened because of your mistake, didn't it?"
To be so rude to the King!
There were few nobles like that.
And the surrounding people also directed blaming gazes toward the King.
"Y-you lot, who do you think I am..."
To the King who was squeezing out his voice, the Third Generation swung a punch.
(Ah, he subtly used a skill.)
Blasted away by power boosted by the First Generation's skill, the King had tears in his eyes. Leaning against his luxurious chair, he held his cheek.
The Third Generation of that time spoke.
"Like I care. Who swore loyalty to you? The loyalty I swore was to that chair you're sitting in. I swore loyalty to a King with authority, but I don't recall swearing it to you as an individual. Besides, there are plenty of replacements for you."
The nobles drew their swords.
When the King let out a "Hie!", the nobles who supported the King also drew their swords. However, they were the minority.
The Third Generation stopped them with a hand.
"The Wolt family will serve as the rearguard. Well, it's only a few dozen of us, but we'll buy you some time. Baron, I leave the rest to you."
Then, the Baron nodded.
"I understand."
And, the Third Generation spoke while looking down at the King.
"The reason people follow you is because the authority you inherited is necessary. If we lose to Lemrant, Vanseim will be overrun just like this... Listen, I'm not risking my life for you. I'm risking my life for my territory. Do you understand that, you incompetent King?"
Saying so, the Third Generation left the tent.
As the inside of the tent turned gray, I spoke.
"...I'm surprised the Wolt family wasn't crushed."
The Fourth Generation shared the same opinion.
"Exactly. Moreover, the Wolt family was actually treated with care, wasn't it?"
The Third Generation spoke disinterestedly.
"Because I threatened him. Besides, I think the territorial nobles would have rebelled if he did anything to my territory... Having his confidence crushed here, he became a King who was easy to handle for both the territorial nobles and the court nobles. Also, after winning against Lemrant, we needed to launch attacks from our side. It was probably a pain to replace the King. It was lucky he didn't die a suspicious death, isn't it?"
It seemed that Vanseim at the time judged that it would be dangerous if they didn't dominate before the opponent recovered their national strength.
The Third Generation spoke.
"There's no such thing as justice. Just think about how many people died for this guy's self-satisfaction. Oh, by the way."
Chuckling, the Third Generation explained.
"I used a skill to place a mental suggestion so that anyone who tried to touch the Wolt family would have nightmares!"
This guy is cruel.
I thought so, but everyone around him was so cruel that I didn't know what to say.
The Third Generation's face became serious.
"I was at my limit. The only ones with motivation were the royal court nobles and the people who wanted to become nobles by gaining territory. Moreover, those people used us territorial nobles, calling it a duty and such, until we were worn out."
The Third Generation spoke with a dark smile, saying there was a high possibility the King would have died suddenly.
Thinking about that, perhaps the King of that time survived thanks to the Third Generation punching him.
The scene changed, and the surroundings projected the Wolt family's camp.
The Third Generation, in his usual tone.
"We're going to charge into the enemy who are charging at us. Anyone who wants to die?"
I thought no one would join with such words, but one middle-aged soldier stepped forward.
I had seen that person's face before.
"The resident who was complaining to the Second Generation?"
The middle-aged man spoke to the Third Generation.
"...I caused a lot of trouble for the previous generation. I don't think this can be called returning the favor, but I shall accompany you, Young Master."
The Third Generation spoke.
"The 'Young Master' calling never did get fixed until the end. Well, whatever... If we lose here, Vanseim will be forced into a defensive position and be chipped away from the surroundings. Since we've rampaged so much until now, we'll be looted, and who knows what will happen to the women and children."
Then, another person stepped forward.
It was a young knight.
"I-I'll go too!"
Then, the Third Generation smiled and punched the knight away.
"Too bad! Young people are no good. Those younger than me will have to work hard from now on. Those who just got married are also no good. The conditions are being single, or having children who can stand on their own... because if you participate, you'll die."
Then, the soldiers stepped forward.
All of them were people from their late thirties to mid-forties.
There were nearly forty of them.
"Yeah, then let's go. I leave the rest to you."
The Third Generation, mounting his horse in a light manner, had the young soldiers hand over their weapons to the soldiers who were to charge. After having them prepare their equipment, he galloped his horse forward.
The image turned gray there, and time stopped.
The Fourth Generation spoke.
"...A lot of this is cruel."
The Third Generation spoke.
"It is cruel. That's why I hate that incompetent fool. I didn't wish to die on the battlefield, and I wanted to return alive. But you see... if we lost here, we would be the ones being overrun. From the enemy's perspective, we're the cruel ones. After rampaging so much, we'd be saying we hate to lose."
The Third Generation spoke while looking at the gray sky.
"War really is the absolute worst."