Chapter 5. Ilea

Gaf rode his horse again as soon as day broke.

His destination was the Miatro direct domain. It was far enough that it should have taken the entire day to reach, yet he had already set foot on the lord's estate before sunset.

Forn Village. It was the domain closest to the lord's castle.

As Gaf entered the market, he looked around.

He paid particular attention to the walls of the buildings and the ground, searching for a recruitment notice.

But there wasn't a single one to be found.

Was the demon wrong? Gaf recalled his conversation with Yohan.

'If you don't want to discuss this until the end, fine. I'll give you one hint. The lord will be recruiting troops. Even an idiot like you should know what you need to do.'

Contrary to what he had said, there wasn't even a scrap of paper lying around the village.

Instead, Gaf was met with drooping, gloomy faces. A sense of depression hung over the entire village. The already dreary weather only deepened the gloom.

Whatever the case, it seemed the demon had been wrong. Gaf approached the mother and looked down at the cloth bundle.

"After acting like you knew everything, you've already reached the bottom of your knowledge. I suppose I have no one to blame but myself for being led around by that tongue of yours."

The baby struggled to raise its tiny arm.

"Uwaaah, waaah."

It seemed to be trying to complain about something, but Gaf couldn't understand a word.

At night, he had wanted to stuff a gag into its mouth, but now he found himself a little frustrated.

"Waaah! Aeng!"

Gaf let out a long sigh.

"I can't make out a single......"

Just then, the mother grabbed Gaf's arm.

"W-What is it?"

With her remaining hand, she pointed somewhere.

Gaf turned his head in the direction indicated by her finger.

There was a blacksmith's shop. The ringing sound of iron being hammered echoed loudly through the air.

During harvest season like this, blacksmiths usually made farming tools rather than weapons.

But this place was different. Armor, swords, shields, arrowheads, and the like were piled up in mountains.

Are they preparing for a war? It definitely shouldn't be. Even wars between lords avoided harvest season. Diverting the people needed for the harvest into soldiers would only cause losses for everyone.

Gaf looked down at the cloth bundle again.

See? Wasn't I right? The baby, giggling happily, seemed to be saying exactly that.

"I don't understand."

Gaf had suspected that the demon's ability was something that allowed him to read the past. Ilea's whereabouts, the village chief's corruption, Gaf's thirst for revenge...... and so on. All the secrets the demon had uncovered so far were things that could be learned with the appropriate power.

But now, even that theory had fallen apart.

There was no way he could have read the past of the people here from the foot of a mountain. The extent of his information-gathering abilities was now a complete mystery.

Gaf muttered,

"I'll have to confirm it."

With that, he headed toward the blacksmith's shop.

"May I ask you something?"

The bald blacksmith, who had been tempering a piece of metal, raised his head.

"Is there perhaps going to be a war?"

"You must be a stranger."

"I asked you a question."

There was no answer.

Gaf took a few copper coins from his clothes and handed them to the blacksmith.

Only then did the bald man react. He gave a sly grin and said,

"I can't say for certain, but there's a good chance."

"No, but what kind of war would break out at a time like this?"

"Well, you see......"

The blacksmith glanced around cautiously before whispering into Gaf's ear.

"The lord's only son has a disability."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Listen to the end. If his only son isn't physically sound, what do you think happens to the position of heir?"

"Sounds like a serious deformity. So the position is vacant?"

The bald man nodded.

"They say he's one-eyed and even walks with a limp."

Ordinarily, a noble wouldn't pass his title on to someone with disabilities that severe.

"Then the heir would be......"

The blacksmith folded his arms.

"The lord's younger brother—that is, the young master's uncle—is claiming the right to succeed him. But the lord is vehemently opposed. The two of them don't get along at all."

The lord and his younger brother were sworn enemies.

Rather than pass his position to his younger brother, the baron would sooner choose some distant cousin.

Gaf nodded as though he understood.

"So there'll be a fierce struggle for succession."

"Well, the other side already has about three hundred gathered."

"And what about this side? From the looks of it, there weren't any recruitment notices."

The blacksmith snorted.

"When war breaks out, do we really have a choice? We'll have to swing swords with the very hands we use to plow the fields. At least I'm pretty handy with a sword. Comes with the profession, you know. Hahaha!"

It seemed all the able-bodied men of Forn Village would be participating.

Gaf clicked his tongue and muttered,

"Who's going to harvest the crops? They should just hire mercenaries."

"Can't they make up the numbers from the other villages? I heard they're not conscripting anyone in Taharan or Geren."

The villages of Taharan and Geren were located at the southernmost end of Miatro territory. At least those two were considered breadbasket regions.

"I......"

Gaf trailed off. He had almost revealed that he was from Taharan. It probably wouldn't have mattered, but he couldn't help being cautious.

"You?"

"No."

The blacksmith tilted his head.

"You start saying something and then stop. More importantly......"

He looked Gaf up and down.

"To be honest, I thought you were a mercenary."

"Well, I'm something close to that."

The bald man nodded knowingly and laughed heartily.

"I knew my eye was sharp. Anyway, it's reassuring to have someone who knows how to fight on our side. Why don't you go to the lord's castle? They won't treat you poorly."

One veteran mercenary would be worth more than a dozen or so farmers.

Gaf muttered skeptically,

"I don't know if they'll use mercenaries."

"The lord shouldn't have any trouble paying the wages for one man like you."

If this had been in the past, he would have demanded a hefty sum, but now compensation meant nothing to him.

Saving Ilea was what mattered most.

"By the way, I suppose this is your wife."

The blacksmith was looking at the mother.

"You look exhausted. Don't just stand there—come over here. I'll at least give you a cup of water."

The bald man held out a wooden cup.

The mother merely stared blankly at him.

Gaf sighed and took the cup in her place.

"Drink."

He then placed it in the woman's hand.

Only then did she carefully drink the water.

The bald man chuckled.

"She seems quite shy around strangers. That's how a proper woman should be."

His gaze fell to the woman's chest.

"Oh, I see you have a child as well."

The bald man took a few steps closer and looked down at the cloth bundle.

"Well, isn't the little fellow a cute one? Fortunately, he takes after his mother more than his father. Haha!"

Gaf was about to say that the child wasn't his, but decided against it.

"But carrying such a newborn around in a rag like that...... Tsk. Wait a moment."

He went over to a shelf and began working away.

A short while later, the blacksmith came out with a fairly decent baby carrier.

"I cobbled it together from some leftover leather. Still, it'll be much better than that piece of cloth. Don't worry about paying me. Just use it."

Gaf was about to tell him it wasn't necessary when the mother swiftly snatched the baby carrier.

She threw off the rag and placed Yohan into his new cradle.

The baby broke into a pleased smile.

The blacksmith said with a satisfied expression,

"See that? He likes it."

Yohan stared straight at him. He would remember his face and repay him properly someday.

"Looks like he's thanking me with his eyes. What a clever little baby. Hahaha!"

"If he knew whose favor he had earned, he'd be horrified."

The blacksmith tilted his head, unable to understand.

Gaf patted him on the shoulder.

"Anyway, thanks for the information."

"You're going to the lord's castle?"

Gaf turned around and muttered,

"Well...... I haven't decided yet."

The moment he joined the army, he would be contributing to the demon's plan.

Gaf found it difficult to decide what he should do.

***

Baron Grian Miatro sat before a table laden with all sorts of food, yet he couldn't take his eyes off the person sitting beside him.

He was looking at the daughter of a duke.

A doll-like girl. She was still young, around ten years old, but her appearance was perfect enough to satisfy even the baron's tastes.

Her hair and eyes were particularly clear and pure.

With a deep blue iris and a single strand of platinum-blond hair falling across it, she resembled a white sandy beach beneath a clear sky.

"I could look at you forever and never grow tired of it. How can you possibly be this beautiful?"

The girl demurely lowered her head.

"You're too kind."

The woman sitting across from the girl smiled with satisfaction.

"That's not all. I've never seen a child as clever as Ilea. Hoho, teaching her is such a rewarding experience."

The woman with the delicate laugh was responsible for educating the daughters of nobles. Her name was Betra. She was a courtesan.

Ilea spoke with an expression of overwhelming gratitude.

"You two praise me so highly that I don't know where to put myself. Please, enough."

The baron admired her and gently stroked Ilea's cheek.

"She even has such impeccable manners. It's hard to believe she's the daughter of a common farmer."

His clammy hand slid across her snow-white skin.

It would have been uncomfortable for anyone else, but Ilea didn't lose her smile.

"I learned it from my mother. She always told me that I must never make a mistake when serving Baron."

The baron looked at Betra, the courtesan.

"You certainly earn your keep."

The daughters of nobles called Betra "Mother."

She smiled with her eyes, apparently pleased by Ilea's praise.

"Ilea simply learns faster than the others. I haven't done anything."

The baron nodded.

"Such a heartwarming mother-daughter relationship. Looking at the two of you warms my heart."

Ilea's expression became slightly gloomy.

"Still, Baron, your touch seems to grow colder and colder."

Ilea gently removed the baron's hand from her cheek.

"You don't look well either...... Are you still feeling ill these days?"

Grian's vitality was declining day by day. He couldn't keep food down and couldn't sleep at night. Even his once-raging libido had diminished.

His skin, once glistening with oil, had become as dry as a loaf of wheat bread.

It had been that way ever since he took Ilea in as a daughter of nobility.

"......It must be quite noticeable."

"How could I not notice? I am always concerned about you, Baron."

The baron let out a deep sigh.

"The nightmares are still there, too. They're driving me mad."

The corners of Ilea's lips rose ever so slightly. No one noticed the change.

"You mean the imp you mentioned before?"

An imp was a young demon.

"Yes. It simply refuses to disappear."

"What a terrible creature."

Ilea paused for a moment before smiling brightly.

"But don't worry. You have me by your side, don't you? I'll stay right beside you and protect you."

The baron's eyes softened dreamily.

"How do you manage to speak so sweetly? What a precious child."

Having said that, Grian lightly struck the table as though he had made a decision.

"No, this won't do."

Determination filled the baron's eyes.

"Though my vigor may be lacking, I'll make an effort tonight. I can't put off the deed any longer."

Ilea tilted her head as though she didn't understand.

"The deed?"

"Your first night."

He meant to take her virginity.

Immediately, Ilea's expression froze like wax.

The sudden change in atmosphere startled the baron.

"Wh-Why? Don't you want to share my bed?"

"That isn't what I mean."

Ilea picked up her fork and began pointing at each dish.

In order, there was the sherry the baron enjoyed, a salad tossed with fresh vegetables, and a small pie.

"What do you call these?"

"Why are you suddenly asking about......"

"Please answer me."

If the girl had been one of the other daughters, a furious reprimand would have followed.

"Well......an appetizer?"

"That's right."

Ilea smiled sweetly and looked at Betra.

"Mother, why do you think we eat appetizers before enjoying the main course?"

Betra's eyes trembled slightly. The girl was being disrespectful to the baron. The consequences of it might fall squarely on Betra.

She forced a smile and said,

"Ilea. The Baron is telling you to attend to him, isn't he? Stop talking nonsense and answer him properly."

"Your answer is my answer, Mother."

Is she trying to pick a fight? Betra tightly gripped her fork. Because her hand was beneath the table, the veins standing out on the back of it were hidden.

"......To whet one's appetite and build anticipation for the main dish."

She didn't take the bait. She couldn't possibly get into a battle of nerves with a girl of around ten in front of the baron.

Ilea nodded.

"Exactly."

Then she pointed her fork straight ahead.

In the direction she indicated, several girls stood in a line with their backs against the wall. They were all daughters of nobles who had not been allowed to sit at the table.

Ilea looked at them and formed a calm smile.

"I want to be the main course for Baron."

Let him savor those girls first.

That was what she was saying.

Betra stared at Ilea in utter disbelief.

What kind of little brat is she......

Even for a courtesan who had taught many girls, this was a first.

Ilea was craftier than a delinquent from the slums, more audacious than a young lady from a fallen noble family, and more perceptive than an abandoned bastard child.

On top of that, she was good at practically everything, making it difficult to find fault with her.

Betra studied the baron's expression.

Fortunately, he wasn't angry. Instead, he stared at the other daughters with a gloomy expression.

"......It doesn't stir me. My heart isn't moved."

His libido, which had been declining day by day, no longer responded even to most women.

How did that lecher end up like this? Betra couldn't understand the reason.

"It breaks my heart. I hope you regain your strength as soon as possible."

As she murmured this, Ilea lifted her teacup.

"Mother, you'll have to take better care of him."

Her expression was clearly subdued, yet there was something subtly strange about it. Almost as though she were calmly enjoying the situation......

Betra's thoughts were abruptly interrupted.

A knight had entered the dining room. He approached the baron and said,

"Baron, a mercenary has come to see you."

Grian frowned.

"Those hyena bastards. What are they snooping around for? Tell him we don't need him!"

"Th-There's only one."

"What? Just one?"

"Yes. But he claims he was with the Kandeya Mercenary Corps."

At the same time, confusion flashed across the baron's face. Ilea showed no particular reaction.

"......Kandeya?"

The Kandeya Mercenary Corps. They were cavalrymen who had earned a fearsome reputation in the east before disappearing without a trace.

People generally said that they had been completely wiped out.

"What the hell are you talking about? Those bastards died ages ago."

"We've checked his mercenary insignia as well."

A pretender? The baron was suspicious, but Ilea was certain.

It's Father.

The knight continued,

"He wishes to meet you. What should I do? Would you like to see him?"

"You're certain there's only one?"

If there were more than one, whoever had come to visit, the baron had no intention of paying them.

"Yes. Though he does have family with him. Just a wife and a newborn."

Only then did Ilea's expression change. Interest flickered across her calm smile.

She murmured softly,

‘You're quite capable, Father.’

How long has it been since we parted, and you've already brought me a little brother?

"Hm, Ilea. What did you say?"

Ilea smiled brightly.

"I said, have a safe trip, Baron."

"I never said I was going...... But perhaps I'll at least take a look at his face. That impostor."

The lord rose from his seat and headed straight for the reception room.