In the northwestern part of the Kingdom of Lordberg, it is customary for the nobles to host a year-end banquet where they reaffirm faction bonds and exchange information.
This year was expected to be a peaceful banquet as well, but the situation changed suddenly when Marquis Bechtelheim, the faction leader, sent a messenger to each noble.
Rather than wearing the lavish ceremonial attire typical for social gatherings, the nobles of the northwestern faction donned unadorned military uniforms and gathered at the marquis’s mansion, surrounding a large table. The grand hall, usually reserved for parties, had transformed into a meeting room for military discussions.
Noein, dressed in a black robe, stood on the edge of the gathering. Although he was a prominent emerging noble, he held only the title of knight-baron and thus played a minor role in this military council.
“Gentlemen, first, allow me to thank you. I appreciate that all of you gathered here despite the sudden shift from a banquet to a military council… I thought at least one of you might mistakenly show up in ceremonial attire, but it seems I worried for nothing.”
Everyone laughed at Marquis Bechtelheim’s words.
Nobles change their attire depending on the gathering; for banquets, they wear ceremonial clothing, while at military gatherings or ceremonies, they wear more subdued military uniforms.
“Most of you should already know the general situation from the messenger, but let’s confirm once more. Count Martzel, if you please.”
“Yes, sir.”
At the marquis’s prompt, Count Martzel, standing beside him, stepped forward. As a born military man, he was ideal to lead the council.
“As you’ve all heard, there’s news that the army of the Kingdom of Rancel in the west is preparing to invade the Kingdom of Lordberg. To counter this, His Majesty the King has commanded us, the nobles of the northwestern part of the kingdom, to send our forces and prepare for battle with Rancel.”
The nobles present tightened their expressions and listened silently to Count Martzel.
“The enemy forces number approximately 15,000. In response, the southwestern nobles are mustering a combined force of 14,000 composed of local troops, mercenaries, and conscripts. In addition, the royal army will deploy three battalions. We, the northwestern nobles, will join the fight with a force of 5,000 local troops.”
“I thought the southwestern nobles had become spineless traders due to their focus on commerce, but it appears they still have the will to muster some forces,” Marquis Bechtelheim added to Count Martzel’s matter-of-fact report.
Relations between the various noble factions of the kingdom are, to put it mildly, strained. The marquis’s remark, mocking the southwestern faction, drew laughter once more from the council.
“As His Excellency pointed out, the southwestern nobles have managed to assemble a respectable force. However, over half of it consists of mercenaries and conscripted local residents. Therefore, the addition of our 5,000 regular troops will be crucial,” Count Martzel continued, and the nobles listened with fierce glints in their eyes, as most nobles do relish battle.
“His Excellency Bechtelheim will send 500 troops from his estate, including 100 cavalry. Count Schwaloff and I will each contribute 300. I expect that the viscounts, barons, and lower-ranking nobles will provide troop numbers appropriate to their territories.”
“And, let’s not forget to bring the crossbows. We’ve already informed His Majesty, so let’s achieve results with these new weapons and showcase the strength of the northwestern faction. Isn’t that right, Sir Earlkvist?”
With a loud voice that reached even the edge of the hall, Marquis Bechtelheim called out to Noein, who suddenly found everyone’s gaze upon him.
“…Yes. I will also strive with all my might for the kingdom and the honor of the northwestern faction,” Noein managed to respond after being caught off guard, somewhat awkwardly but with military pride. The nobles laughed again, perhaps finding it amusing that such words came from the small, youthful Noein.
Sweating nervously on the inside, Noein also gave a smile. When he met Arnold’s gaze—Arnold, one of the faction’s key figures who stood beside Marquis Bechtelheim—Arnold gave a nod, as if to say, “Well done.”
“Now, let’s determine the exact number of soldiers and the distribution of the troop types from each territory,” Count Martzel announced, and the military council continued steadily.
…
After the northwestern faction’s military council, Noein returned to the Earlkvist estate, busying himself with preparations for the campaign.
Following the general council, Noein met privately with Marquis Bechtelheim, who assigned him a substantial number of troops for a knight-baron, 200 crossbows to be used by the southwestern conscripts, two ballistae, and explosive arrows to make a “distinguished contribution.”
The end of the year and the beginning of the new one passed with war preparations as the focus, and soon the day arrived for departure toward the southwestern border.
The Earlkvist army, led by Noein, consisted of 30 men, including Noein’s personal guard Mathilda, Captain Yuri, and Vice-Captain Pence, with 26 soldiers from the estate’s forces.
Leaving all the estate’s officers behind would make the estate’s defenses too thin, so Radley and Bart remained as the rear guard.
“It looks more like a supply convoy than a combat unit when you look at it this way.”
“Given the number of wagons compared to soldiers, that’s no surprise.”
Watching the soldiers preparing for departure, Noein and Yuri exchanged these words.
The heavily laden Earlkvist army organized itself into a formation with the soldiers encircling several wagons. It may look a bit peculiar, more like a caravan than a proper army unit, but with more weapons than soldiers, this unusual approach to combat was unavoidable.
“Noein-sama, the preparations are nearly complete.”
Pence, who was supervising the soldiers, approached Noein and Yuri.
“Understood, thank you for your hard work… Let’s each say our goodbyes to family now. Yuri, you should go see Mai and Yakov.”
“Got it; I’ll be right back.”
Yuri replied and walked off to his wife and son.
“Pence, you should also say what needs to be said to the person who deserves to hear it.”
“Wait—You know too, Noein-sama?”
“The maids talk about it so excitedly that it’s impossible not to hear… Besides, I agree with Kimberly. I think you should let Rosetta make you happy.”
“Normally, it should be the other way around—I should be the one to make Rosetta happy.”
“Oh, so you think that way too? Then this should be easy. Just go and tell her.”
“No, I didn’t mean it like that… fine, I’ll do it!”
Resigned, Pence let out a sigh, then walked over to Rosetta, who was watching him from a distance alongside Mary and Kimberly.
“Rosetta…”
“…?”
Even when Pence called her, Rosetta just looked at him with teary eyes and said nothing.
“Well, you see… I’m sorry about the other day. I didn’t mean to disregard your… uh, feelings.”
“I’m sorry too, about the other day.”
Pence’s straightforward apology finally prompted a quiet reply from Rosetta.
“So, I’ve thought it over since then, and I realized how fortunate I am to have you care for me like this. I’d… like you to keep making me happy… and of course, I’ll do the same for you.”
Though his words were clumsy, Rosetta’s face lit up, understanding his intent.
“Oh, forget it… In short, I love you too, so marry me when I return from the war.”
“Pence… thank you! I’m so happy!”
Rosetta immediately accepted Pence’s proposal, even throwing her arms around him in public.
Watching this, Mary cheered, “How bold!” while Kimberly nodded approvingly, and the onlookers grinned with amusement.
“Pence, congrats…”
“Is it alright, though? Making a marriage promise before heading to war…”
Among the cheerful onlookers, Radley and Bart, the rear guards, voiced their concern. As former mercenaries, they believed that making “return-to-marry” promises before a battle was considered bad luck.
“Oh, darn… but it’ll be fine.”
For a moment, Pence looked anxious, but seeing Rosetta’s joyful expression as she clung to him, he smiled wryly.
As Noein’s subordinates exchanged farewells with their families and loved ones before departure, he and Mathilda approached Clara.
“My dear…”
“Don’t worry, Clara. I have no intention of dying, not one bit.”
No wife could remain entirely without worry as her husband headed to the battlefield. Seeing the concern on Clara’s face, Noein smiled gently as he reassured her.
“But I do need you to promise me one thing. If… if the worst should happen, I want you to protect this territory. Knowing that would allow me to go without fear or regret.”
Even if he had no plans to die, death remained a real possibility on the battlefield. Speaking as the noble responsible for this domain, Noein deliberately shared this with Clara.
Clara closed her eyes briefly, absorbing his words, then looked directly at him and smiled.
“Yes. If that time should come, I promise to protect this land—the land you built. So please, have no worries.”
“Thank you… you’ve become strong, Clara.”
“Yes, I am a noble’s wife, after all.”
Honestly, Noein thought Clara might cry, but she didn’t shed a single tear in front of her husband. She had clearly steeled herself for this.
Gently, reaffirming their love, Noein and Clara shared a kiss.
Afterward, Mathilda stood facing Clara, and they held each other’s hands.
“Mathilda, please promise me… no matter what happens, stay by Noein’s side to the very end.”
“Of course. I will remain at his side, no matter what… Clara, please promise me as well. No matter what happens, live on together with this land.”
“Yes, I swear it before God.”
Mathilda resolved to follow Noein, even in death if it came to that, while Clara committed to living on for Noein’s sake and protecting the Earlkvist territory. Each had made their resolve to stay with Noein in their own way, reaffirming their roles to each other.
“Well, we’re off,” Noein said.
“We’ll be going now, Lady Clara,” Mathilda added.
“Lord Noein, Mathilda… please, stay safe.”
That day, with farewells from his wife, Clara, the loyal retainers who stayed behind to guard the land, and the townsfolk, the Earlkvist army departed from the capital city of Noeina.
