There had been little preparation time to begin with.
On top of that, the village under monster attack had apparently been suffering damage for quite a while before this.
An expedition by the Knights to slay monsters.
Having been asked to participate as a Volunteer Soldier, I was holding a meeting inside the Jewel's conference room with six of my ancestors.
How do we survive? And how do we protect our escort targets?
Those were the two questions occupying my thoughts.
With barely any experience as an adventurer, a request like this was entirely new to me.
The problem was that I wasn't in a position to command anyone, which only made things more complicated.
The Fourth Generation, acting as facilitator, summarized the information gathered so far on the blackboard.
"The Knights depart tomorrow. The two escort targets have their equipment more or less sorted out, but the problem is our own. We have neither armor nor weapons. Provisions and other consumables are fine in terms of quantity, but this is quite a tough situation."
I raised my hand slightly.
The Fourth Generation, pushing up her glasses with her right middle finger and adjusting their position, glared at me.
"Yes, the answer is no, Lyle."
"No!? Isn't that a bit harsh? Um, well, we do have equipment and weapons, you know."
When I said that, the Third Generation burst out laughing.
While I looked on in surprise, the Seventh Generation cleared his throat and shot a glare at the Third Generation.
Wearing a "good grief" expression, the Third Generation explained.
"There are enemies that fly through the air, and we don't have nearly enough equipment to match. I've fought hippogriffs more times than I can count, and even with magic, aiming at them is incredibly difficult."
The Second Generation, who had caught me considering the option of attacking flying enemies with magic, spoke up.
"Bow and arrows are tough too. Hitting them in the eye might work if you're lucky, but how many skilled archers do we actually have... You're not thinking of trying to manage with just a saber, are you?"
I explained to the two of them that I had been planning to use magic instead.
"I was thinking of using magic for area attacks rather than pinpoint ones..."
Against flying enemies like hippogriffs, point attacks are hard to land. So what do you do? You either overwhelm them with numbers or use area attacks.
Hearing this, the Second Generation retorted.
"Idiot! Where would you cast from? And what about coordination? You don't even know if the commander is competent, and there's a high chance you'll be sent straight to the front lines and ground into dust, so what kind of carefree nonsense is that?"
If you use magic, you need to keep from getting caught in the crossfire.
With allies nearby, you can't cast.
That is, unless you were planning to use allies as bait — in which case the conversation would be entirely different.
The Fifth Generation sighed.
"Did you confirm the Knights' equipment with Ralph? What do they plan to slay with swords and spears?"
The Knights' equipment was, as expected, primarily swords and spears.
Ranged weapons like bows and crossbows were not carried by Central's knights.
Well, not carried as a rule — they likely had them as part of their equipment.
The prevailing attitude was that with magic as a convenient ranged weapon, such weapons were beneath a knight's dignity.
The Sixth Generation scoffed.
"There aren't many big threats around the Royal Capital, after all. Their assessment of hippogriffs is probably low as well. Certainly, they're weaker than ogres, but... they greatly underestimate the threat of something that flies."
The Seventh Generation agreed.
"For skilled fighters, hippogriffs are nothing more than prey. Landed lords are often commissioned to subjugate bandits and monsters too."
I could feel the tension in the room thickening.
(The nobility of the Royal Capital and the Landed Nobility don't get along, or rather, how should I put it...)
I addressed everyone.
"The court nobles and knights of the Royal Capital — what do you all think of them, you know, as far as—"
Before I could finish, starting from the Second Generation:
"I hate them."
"I hate the King too."
"Not fond of them."
"Annoying rats."
"I despise them."
"It isn't a matter of like or dislike. I feel murderous intent toward them."
But the First Generation had also originally been a court knight.
As the third son, he had held no court position of succession, but the Walt family had connections with the court nobles as well.
"Wait, but Mireia married in, and there were various other ties too..."
When I said that, the Third Generation smiled and replied:
"Lyle, let me teach you a useful phrase... That's them, and this is us!"
My cheek twitched, and the Fifth Generation chimed in.
"Well, they probably don't think fondly of the Landed Nobility either. After all, there are times when they're on opposite sides, each trying to kill the other."
The Seventh Generation wore a serious expression.
"People you were drinking with yesterday are your enemies today... That happens more than you'd think. But the world isn't so simple that you can just shrug it off. So—"
"That's them, and this is us...?" I muttered, looking exasperated.
Everyone nodded.
The Fifth Generation explained.
"Even if they're bickering over faction politics, the Landed Nobility will cooperate if there's profit in it — as long as it benefits both sides. In practice, you need to be flexible about that sort of thing. Now, back to the topic: we can't round up equipment and manpower in just a few days. This isn't Lyle's responsibility alone."
I thanked the Fifth Generation, who had quietly had my back, and listened to everyone's opinions.
In an expedition like this, the ones I could rely on were the Second and Third Generations.
The Fifth and Sixth Generations had done similar things, but neither had much experience fighting under someone else's command.
The Third Generation spoke.
"If we'd only known the commanding knight's preferences, we could have sent a bribe."
The Second Generation agreed.
"Right. If we could get Marcus to deliver it, the whole thing would go much smoother."
"A bribe?" I asked.
Even I had some reservations about that, but the two of them said with completely serious faces:
"You really are something, you know. Too much of a goody-two-shoes."
The exasperated Second Generation was joined by the Third Generation, who laughed as he said:
"It's a good thing people see you that way. But..."
The Third Generation stopped laughing and grew serious.
"If it saves your life, I'd call that a bargain. And this time it isn't just us — two useless tags-along come as a bonus. We've even taken on a bodyguard commission."
Neither Marcus nor Bread had ever gone outside to camp, nor had they ever fought monsters.
Marcus had only done some security work on a temporary basis.
The Second Generation spoke.
"If it's absolutely impossible, prioritize your companions and abandon the two of them. If anything happens to little Novem, she'll haunt you for the rest of your life."
Swallowing hard at the threat, the two seemed satisfied with its effect and relaxed their expressions.
The Third Generation laughed as he spoke.
For the two of them, a bribe was simply one tool among many.
Some might call it a bribe, but they preferred to frame it as a means of smoothing human relations.
"It's just one tool among many. You hand over a gift and say 'please take care of us.' No need to overthink it. We'll still do our job. Though, our counterparts this time might be tricky. She's the type who wants glory for herself."
The Second Generation seemed to share this view.
"There are always those kinds, aren't there? They push others around, then hog all the credit. Well, in the end they usually end up earning everyone's resentment and meet a miserable fate."
The Fourth Generation interjected.
"She wasn't yet twenty, was she? She lacks experience, and commanding an operation of this scale is something she's never done either. It's concerning."
I had done a little research on the female knight, Norma Arnett.
She was ambitious to a fault and had a long-standing reputation for bad behavior brought on by overexertion.
When I considered why someone like her had been chosen as the leader, the inevitable conclusion was—
"A knight who doesn't matter either way, huh? She's competent enough, but she disrupts harmony, and all that," the Third Generation said.
Everyone nodded.
The Seventh Generation added.
"There are plenty of those around. They tend to do unnecessary things and make enemies of those around them."
The Fourth Generation clapped her hands.
"Alright, we've gotten sidetracked. Now then, let's figure out how to improve Lyle and the others' chances of survival."
The Second Generation scratched his head.
"We can't just increase our numbers willy-nilly. If only we had a bit more time..."
The plan had accounted for Volunteer Soldiers joining, and provisions had been prepared with some margin.
The problem was that we had few contacts here.
Since I hadn't been working as an adventurer, I didn't even know who among my peers was reliable.
We couldn't afford to bring useless people along, but we also didn't have enough time to search properly — that was the situation we were in.
The Third Generation spoke.
"Collecting acquaintances of Marcus and Bread could work, but they probably don't even have proper equipment. And they'd just slow us down."
The Fifth Generation said.
"With a bit more time, we could have hired experienced fighters with money. Well, the commission this time is to protect those two — we don't actually have to slay any monsters."
The Sixth Generation countered.
"But those two wouldn't accept that. They'll rush to claim credit, and then what? Can they act on the spur of the moment?"
When I opened my mouth, the atmosphere in the room grew awkward.
"If they've been training, they should be able to function at least somewhat, right? I don't think they're completely hopeless. Besides, they are knights, so their training should be quite—"
The Second Generation put a hand to his face and said.
"Mm. That's exactly the thing. If everyone were properly capable, there'd be no problem at all... 'If they were properly capable,' that is."
The Seventh Generation came to my defense.
"...Lyle is a capable kid. Besides, it's been less than a year since she entered the wider world. There are bound to be things she just can't understand yet."
The Fifth Generation was looking at me with a somewhat complicated expression.
"No, yeah. I think you're capable. In fact, you've handled everything so far and produced results beyond expectations. But—"
The Fourth Generation said.
"This is the case of someone who's too capable for their own good. She doesn't understand those around her."
The Third Generation added.
"With Novem and all the others around being so capable, who does she have to compare to for the incompetent end? Shannon, maybe?"
The Sixth Generation objected.
"That girl may be hopeless, but she's adorable!"
The Sixth Generation doted on both Miranda and Shannon.
While I looked troubled, the Second Generation spoke.
"Here's what we're trying to say: not everyone around you is as capable as you think."
Those words didn't quite sink in for me.
With departure set for the next day, we were all reviewing our equipment.
Bread, having bought a chainmail and new weapons, looked more confident than before.
Marcus had also replaced the sword at his hip with a new one.
As for us, we wore fur-lined robes over the equipment we'd had in Aramsass.
My gear was basically saber and bow, while everyone else kept their usual equipment.
I had considered giving everyone bows and crossbows, but with no time to train and the conclusion that having this many people all attacking at range wouldn't work well unless the coordination was excellent, we decided against it.
Besides, our numbers were small.
If we had more people, buying crossbows in bulk might have been viable.
But with few people and a high chance that those around us couldn't be trusted either, our usual equipment that allowed for self-defense seemed the safer choice.
(We're heading out to slay monsters, and yet we have to watch our own allies too?)
This time, my commission was to protect Marcus and Bread.
I wanted to keep them safe, but if they couldn't shine, there was a risk they'd act recklessly.
Bread came over to thank me.
"Thank you, Lyle. Now I can finally stand at the starting line."
I gave a wry smile in response to Bread's happiness, and Miranda looked displeased.
I didn't understand why until I noticed Marcus was beaming too.
"Now we at least look the part. So, about the leader of this group—"
The leader.
Right — the leader of this group wasn't me.
There was a matter of social standing, but I had been commissioned by House Cerclie purely as protection for Marcus and Bread.
Formally, I was participating as if hired by Marcus.
Bread's expression shifted from a smile to displeasure in an instant.
"In terms of social standing, it should be you. However, I have no intention of serving under you."
"Hey — you planning to go off on your own?"
Marcus's expression also turned serious, and the two dress-wearing sisters watching the exchange—
Doris and Lucy interjected.
"The leader should be Bread! What exactly were you two planning — who were you going to follow? Father gave the orders. In that case, you should follow Bread, who is affiliated with House Cerclie!"
Doris glared at us.
And Lucy:
"Why should Marcus take orders from a servant who isn't even a knight? If anyone's being followed, it should be Marcus!"
If you asked me, both of them were inexperienced and unreliable.
(Well, if they don't cooperate, none of us will earn any credit.)
It seemed cooperation wasn't going to happen.
Then Miranda clapped her hands.
As everyone's attention turned to her, she fired off instructions in rapid succession.
"On the surface, Marcus will be the leader, but in practice, you follow Lyle's directions. If you don't like it, you're free not to participate."
Bread stepped forward in front of Miranda.
"Milady, I cannot accept that—"
He couldn't accept it.
Was it because she was younger, or because he wanted to be the leader himself?
But Miranda fixed him with a stare.
"You can't even procure your own armor. You've never fought in a battle. And this is your first time leaving the Royal Capital, isn't it? You can't take orders from someone like that."
Novem nodded in agreement.
"That's right. On the surface, having Marcus as the leader with Bread under him should work fine. As long as Marcus, who is a knight, is leading, there's no issue. The other way around would be... awkward."
A servant leading a knight — the others wouldn't accept that either.
We lived in that kind of society, and there were many knights in positions similar to Marcus's.
Bread spoke with a determined expression.
"Then I'll go on my own—"
"And who paid for your equipment? I'm telling you this because if you go and get yourself killed, we'll be in trouble. Our father is the guarantor for your debts. He — the head of House Cerclie — asked us to guard you. If you insist on acting alone, we'll have to withdraw from the expedition entirely. If you don't want that, leave your equipment behind and join with nothing but the clothes on your back."
The severity of Miranda's words made Marcus's face stiffen too.
He whispered to me.
"Hey, I heard the eldest daughter of House Cerclie was supposed to be kind?"
I scratched my cheek and replied.
"Well, she... she is kind."
From inside the Jewel, I heard the Third Generation's voice.
"She's certainly kind. To Lyle and little Shannon, anyway."
Doris and Lucy wore expressions of displeasure just the same.
To those two, Miranda said:
"If you're going to act high and mighty, at least pay for everything first. You're sending your lover to his death — understand that."
Doris shot back.
"What is this! It's not like it's a Knights' expedition. Besides, this is the only way Bread can become a knight, even if just for one generation! He's nothing like that delinquent over there!"
Marcus scratched his head, looking embarrassed.
He was probably aware that he looked like a delinquent himself.
Somehow, the whole atmosphere felt a little lighter.
Lucy also announced she would participate.
"Marcus is a splendid knight! Don't lump him in with the servants!"
Then Lucy looked at me and said:
"I know all about you. That man was originally the heir to an earldom, kicked out because he was useless. He suits you perfectly, big sister — two fallen nobles."
I felt the sting of that remark, but I looked toward Bread.
There was something dark there that I'd never seen before.
(We have to go slay monsters with this group. Great difficulty level, indeed.)
We'd be far better off going just on our own.
But we'd already accepted the commission, so there was nothing to be done.
(I was too naive.)
Then Miranda slapped Lucy across the cheek.
A voice came from the Jewel.
The Third Generation.
"She's loved, Lyle — by all of you."
Miranda approached Lucy, who had fallen to the ground.
The servants nearby, watching from close by, stood frozen in shock.
Even if she'd been kicked out of the house, she was still the former eldest daughter of House Cerclie.
One of them ran toward the manor, and a voice stopped them.
"M-Milady, that's enough."
"Silence! Lucy, I'm done with House Cerclie. I was thrown out, remember. But when your lover is heading to his death, can't you tell the difference between things you should say and things you shouldn't?"
Doris hid behind Bread.
She'd probably never seen Miranda angry before.
Lucy was terrified too.
"Bu-but, it's a Knights' expedition—"
"...Go ask Father. If it were safe, he wouldn't have asked us to guard them."
With that, Miranda turned back to us.
"Our representative on the surface will be Marcus. He's a knight, so there's no issue, and Bread has no battle experience either. If he doesn't like it, he'll be left behind. And his equipment will be confiscated."
Marcus and Bread reluctantly nodded, and Miranda took control of the situation.
"Now then, you two — you're in the way. Go somewhere else."
She sent the two sisters away, and we began discussing the upcoming expedition.
The Fourth Generation said.
"Lyle, you really should be the one running things."
I knew that myself, but Miranda's momentum had been too much to interrupt.
(I'll, I'll be more careful next time.)
—The day of departure.
In the Royal Capital, the expeditionary force was making its final preparations.
The knight Norma Arnett surveyed the assembling Volunteer Soldiers with her blue eyes.
Her straight, silky brown hair, cut to a length that just missed her shoulders, swayed in the wind.
"Cold as expected."
Her adjutant, a fellow knight, agreed with her.
"More people have shown up than we anticipated. We have enough food, but we might be short on firewood. We should have them gather some along the way."
Norma looked at her adjutant — a middle-aged man with a small mustache.
"Speed will drop. If we conserve, it won't be a problem."
"B-but, in this cold—"
Her adjutant was an older man who had never managed to advance in his career. His name was Clark Assher.
He had a receding hairline and wore his bangs long to compensate. With brown hair, dark eyes, and a short, slightly pudgy frame, he was a knight who cut an unimpressive figure.
(That's exactly why you can never advance, you know... Making someone like this my adjutant — what were superiors thinking?)
His weapon was a crossbow.
He carried a sword at his hip, but upon hearing the mission involved slaying monsters — hippogriffs, no less — he had taken a crossbow from the Knights' storehouse on his own initiative.
Norma hated adjutants who acted without permission.
"Do you think I have time to worry about Volunteer Soldiers? They were only suggested because we're short on numbers."
At this, Clark's shoulders slumped.
"...I'll go confirm the Volunteer Soldiers' headcount."
Watching him leave, Norma scoffed.
In armor, her standing figure made for quite the picture, but she gave off a prickly impression.
She surveyed the soldiers around her.
(For this expedition, I absolutely must claim some kind of credit. But there are so many Volunteer Soldiers. I don't exactly see the sort who could contribute anything useful among them.)
Norma, who belonged to the Knights and prided herself on her skills, was waiting for the departure time to arrive when a sudden commotion broke out.
"What now? What the—"
Her gaze fell on an iron mass heading in their direction.
At the front were two people in full equipment and a lightly dressed man and woman.
Pushing past the noisy soldiers and Volunteer Soldiers, Clark ran up.
"Captain Norma — it's Marcus Canning, who submitted a participation request. Apparently he's hired some adventurers, and that appears to be some sort of supply cart for them."
Norma looked at Clark with exasperation.
"Where are the horses? Go and verify properly!"
"No, well, they claim it's a Golem — they call it a Porter, and indeed there are no horses, but it is unmistakably being used to transport supplies..."
Norma wanted to avoid creating a scene here.
Still, in a hurry as she was, they were well-equipped, and turning them away would leave her shorthanded on combat power.
Among the Volunteer Soldiers, there were plenty without proper equipment.
"Tch, fine! If it's confirmed, we're setting off. Any of those last-minute volunteers who show up without proper gear — turn them away!"
Clark made a pointed remark.
"Captain Norma, normally you're supposed to verify in advance. I also suddenly joined as your adjutant, but if I'd known ahead of time, I could have prepared more—"
"I don't have time for trivial matters! Start the departure preparations now!"
Shooing Clark away, Norma headed to where her horse was tethered.
The knights there were chatting with their subordinates.
When Norma arrived, they stopped talking.
(They're way too relaxed. Why are these the only people under my command...)
In her role as commander for this mission, Norma had made various efforts on her own.
She had even gone to the manor of a viscount superior and consulted with him about whether the budget could be increased.
The result was that while she'd managed a slight increase, the swelling numbers of Volunteer Soldiers had left her short on supplies.
(I've assembled knights who can use magic. All that's left is for them to deal with the hippogriffs on-site.)
She'd spent most of her career working under others, but today she was the commander.
Before long, Clark came running back.
"Captain Norma. Far too many lack proper equipment. We should turn them away and prepare—"
"Enough, Clark!"
Watching the younger female knight shout at him, the young knights nearby snickered.
Clark decided to say nothing and headed to his own horse.
Confirming that preparations were complete, Norma announced:
"We now depart for Geoni Village to slay the hippogriffs!"
Through the great gates of the Royal Capital, Norma led a group barely equipped for what lay ahead—