30 minutes ago. While the soldiers were setting up their barracks and resting, workers from the count's household brought wine and meat to the baron's camp.
"This is a reward from the count. Please, eat and rest comfortably."
"Thank you.
We will eat well.” Sanson gave his thanks on their behalf and distributed the wine and meat to the soldiers. And Patrick naturally joined in and started to have a drink.
The soldiers grumbled at Patrick, who was grilling meat over the campfire and drinking beer.
"Young master, aren't you going to drink at the banquet later?"
"That's then, and this is now."
"But this is our wine?"
"Your wine is my wine, and my wine is also my wine."
"If you don't like it, try and beat me. Soldier A." "It's Oliver.” In any case, aside from Patrick draining a fair bit of the wine, everything was proceeding without any particular problems.
But just then…
"Hey. Don't you smell country bumpkins somewhere?"
"You're right. That smell, like horse dung, is exactly the smell of country bumpkins."
Someone with a thuggish voice was clearly picking a fight. In that instant, Patrick's head whipped around.
"Wha' ish it? Theshe bashtards?"
There stood about 300 fully armed soldiers, and at their head were men who appeared to be knights, leading them. And a knight clad in shining plate mail spoke.
"Who is in charge here? Step forward."
"Theshe bashtards... Mumble mumble. Lookin' to die. Hey, you, get over... Mmph! Mmph!"
"Now, now, young master. Please come over here for a moment."
"Hahaha. Young master, let's go oooover there and have a nice, quiet drink by ourselves."
Just as Patrick, having swallowed the meat in his mouth, tried to step forward, soldiers swarmed him from all sides, covering his mouth and dragging him back.
"Mmmph! Mmmph!"
And as Patrick was dragged away, Sanson naturally stepped forward.
"We are the soldiers of the House of Schneider. State your affiliation and name."
The other party then said.
"Gavin Fricka of the House of Viscount Landes. Are you the representative of this force?"
Could he possibly say, "That would be the person being dragged away by the soldiers back there with his mouth covered, mumbling"? Sanson sighed and said.
"Well, something like that."
"Something like that?"
"I am the guard captain who leads the soldiers."
"Guard captain? Are there no knights?"
"Our fief does not have any knights yet."
At that, a clear sneer appeared on the other man's lips.
"So they've gathered all sorts of riffraff."
Look at this bastard? For a moment, Sanson felt a surge of anger.
But...
'Endure it, I must endure it. I can't cause trouble here. I'll respond with common sense.
With common sense...'
"Your words are quite harsh. We too have gathered under the count's summons. So what is this rudeness?” "For an ignorant soldier, you sure know how to wag your tongue." "If you continue to be rude, I will report this to the count." The other party flinched slightly. It seemed that, no matter what, he was reluctant to have unfavorable words reach the count's ears. He scratched his head as if annoyed and said. “A lowly commoner who wouldn't even dare to look at me in my own fief is being a nuisance."
"You...."
"Enough, move your camp over there."
The knight named Gavin suddenly made a strange demand. To move the camp, when they had already set it up and were resting comfortably with a drink. Why on earth did they have to do such a troublesome thing?
"May I ask the reason?” Still, Sanson figured there must be some reason and asked for it first. The answer he received was a spectacle.
"A lowly thing has too much to say. Just obey a knight's command."
"I am not your subordinate. So why are you giving me orders?"
"How absurd. In the Schneider Fief, do commoners talk back to knights so brazenly?"
"Status does not matter. In the military, why should I obey the command of someone who is not my direct superior? This is not right."
He was right. Everything he said was right. And from the perspective of someone being unreasonable, the thing they hated to hear most was the right thing.
The knight, at a loss for words, placed his hand on the sword at his waist and said.
"It seems there's no other way. You'll only know your place once you've been taught a lesson."
"... With those skills of yours?"
"Hah, what did you say?"
Sanson momentarily thought, oops. Feeling the crude energy emanating from the man holding his sword, he had unknowingly let out a sneer and spoken his true thoughts. Even though his opponent was rude, hopeless, and seemed to have terrible skills, hadn't he decided to respond with common sense?
This was a clear mistake.
“Ahem, my apologies. I was rude….”
"Enough. Draw your sword now."
"My sword?"
"Don't even think about running. You're the one who insulted a knight's honor first."
What should I do? Should I wreck him? I do want to wreck him, but.
[Most problems can be solved by wrecking the opponent.]
At that moment, Sanson understood why the young master regarded violence as a cure-all and acted accordingly. And that he himself had been considerably influenced by that Patrick. But no matter what, he wasn't a complete hooligan like Patrick, so could he really put that into action?
"Scared now? You're all brawn and no brain."
"Seeing that they have a subordinate like you, that idiot Baron Schneider must be quite the sick….”
CRACK!
It was at that moment. Sanson's right hand landed squarely on the face of the knight named Gavin or whatever.
"Huh?"
"What's wrong with that guy?"
The other soldiers were stunned at the sight. They had been doing everything in their power to avoid trouble by suppressing the disaster named Patrick, but now Sanson himself had gone and caused it. And Sanson shouted.
"How dare these bastards insult our lord?"
And the moment they heard those words, the other soldiers' expressions changed as well.
"Our lord, you mean they insulted the baron?"
"Who? Those bastards?"
"They're crazy. They've lost their minds."
“Hahaha... Hahahahahaha....”
One by one, the soldiers stood up and approached the enemy.
"These…. These bastards?"
"You want to go at it?"
"So you want to die, is that it?
Huh?”
The Viscount Landes soldiers were flustered inside but bluffed on the outside. Baron Schneider's force had 100 men. And their opponents, the force of Viscount Landes or whatever, looked to be about 300 at a glance, with a few men who appeared to be knights among them.
However.........
"Since it's come to this, what can we do."
"That's right. The stage is set, we can't back down now, can we?"
"Those bastards dare to curse our lord?"
With every step Baron Schneider's men took forward, Viscount Landes's men took a step back.
And then...
"Get them!"
"Uwoooooh!"
"Smash them to piecessss!” The moment someone gave the command, the Schneider Fief's army descended upon the army of the House of Viscount Landes. And at the very rear.........
"If it was going to be like this anyway, why did they stop me?"
Patrick was watching the situation with a dumbfounded expression. 100 vs 300. Thinking with common sense, a head-on confrontation was impossible. On top of that, the opponent's side included knights and was heavily armed.
The House of Schneider, which had taken off its armor to rest after setting up camp, was bound to be at a disadvantage.
But....
"Gaaahk!"
"Kuaak!"
"N-Nooo! Keoheok!"
Broken, shattered, smashed...... They were the soldiers of the House of Viscount Landes, being smashed so miserably it was truly pitiful. And this was while the soldiers of the House of Schneider weren't even using weapons.
Crushing faces with bare fists, sending opponents flying with front kicks, and finishing off fallen foes by stomping on their faces. It was a one-sided scene, like an adult fighting a child.
"Say that again. What, move our camp? You want me to move your life to hell? Huh?"
Sanson had grabbed the knight named Gavin or whatever by the collar, the one who had spoken first, and was repeatedly punching him in the face.
"S.... Stop....”
"Ah, so now you want to back out?
You bastard.
Starting a fight and then asking to stop when it looks like you're losing is the thirty-second thing our young master hates!” Shouting that, Sanson threw Gavin to the ground and began to stomp on him methodically. And the other soldiers watched the scene, nodded, and said.
"Wasn't that the thirty-fifth thing?" "No. The thirty-fifth is kicking up dust while drinking."
"Huh?
I thought that was the thirty-third." "The thirty-third was that……… what was it? Something related to money."
"Borrowing money and paying it back late."
"Ah, right. That's it."
Hearing the words of Baron Schneider's soldiers, the Viscount Landes's men thought, even as they were being beaten. Just who the hell is this young master they're talking about, to have so many things he hates? 10 minutes later.
“Ughhh……. Uuaaaargh...."
"My arm. My aaarm..."
"H... Help me."
It was a scene of brutal violation. The 300 men of Viscount Landes's force lay on the ground, having been unilaterally beaten, while the soldiers of the House of Schneider stood without shedding a single drop of sweat, let alone blood.
"These kids are too flimsy."
"What was up with that guy in armor earlier? Wasn't he a knight?"
"Maybe he was just some rich guy? There's no way a knight could be that pathetically weak, right?"
"I think he pulled out something similar to aura in the middle."
"Nah, must've been an optical illusion."
At the soldiers' words, tears streamed down from the eyes of a fallen knight. In any case, the army of the House of Schneider had grown strong. The knights and soldiers from other families who were watching the situation from the sidelines were also looking at the soldiers of the House of Schneider with gazes full of awe.
"That's amazing. How can it be so one-sided?"
"Is the Viscount Landes's force weak?”
"No, as far as I know, that knight named Gavin is at the three-star level."
"Three-star? A three-star got beaten up like that? And not by a knight, but by a soldier."
"I know this doesn't make sense, but seeing it with my own eyes..."
Hearing the admiring voices from their surroundings, the soldiers of the House of Schneider puffed out their chests. They were keenly feeling the rewards of having rolled around and endured in an environment like hell, no, an environment more miserable than hell. The gazes of longing and envy pouring down on them right now were precisely………
"Well, look at you? Grinning? What great thing did you do to be twitching the corners of your mouths like that? Huh."
It should have been proof of their efforts...... When Patrick appeared from behind, his face full of displeasure, the soldiers' expressions and shoulders quickly returned to their proper places.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk, beating up weaklings one-sidedly and feeling sooooo proud of yourselves. What did you do that was so great, huh?”
"No, young master. They were the ones who picked a fight first. You saw it, didn't you?"
"So?”
"We had to stomp them."
It was as if he was saying, "If it rains, you have to use an umbrella, right?” The boys had certainly been influenced a lot. Seeing how the other soldiers around them were nodding calmly proved it.
However, Patrick, the very source of this tragic ideology, wore a stern expression and spoke with a voice full of pretense and hypocrisy.
"Ahem, as one lives, one must learn to endure it a little, even if others pick a fight."
"... Yes?"
"Tsk, tsk, tsk, to exercise such barbaric violence just because some kids clearly weaker than you picked a little fight."
"... Yes?"
"You ferocious things."
On the faces of Oliver and the other soldiers, looks of emptiness and injustice appeared simultaneously. No. This isn't right. This can't be happening.
Every single soldier, with the most wronged expressions in the world, either clutched their heads and collapsed to the ground or looked up at the sky and shed sorrowful tears. They had heard the words "ferocious things" from the mouth of none other than that demon.
They couldn't contain their indignation at the feeling of injustice welling up from the deepest recesses of their souls. It was obvious that if they hadn't stopped him, that man would have been the first one to charge in. But just because he watched from the back this one time, he was acting so virtuous.
And do you know what was the most unfair part?
"Hooo, the scion of the House of Schneider is quite rational.” "To govern such rough soldiers with mere words. It must be proof of his excellent cultivation of character." "Mm, a scion of a true noble house should be like that. Indeed, he should." These were the absurd remarks coming from the mouths of the people who had just been watching from the sidelines. “G... Gaaahk.... Gak...."
Finally, some were so flabbergasted that they started clutching the back of their necks and collapsing.
"Oliver, don't die. You can't die."
“Brother…. Brother, I…… To think I'd see this day...." "I know how you feel. But still, don't die. You can't die like this." "Ughhh..." It's a chaotic mess. In more ways than one. In any case, it's only natural to clean up a mess one has made. "First, wake those guys up. And….”
In the middle of Patrick's sentence......
"Everyone, halt. It is the procession of Count Parmas."
Leading shining knights, Count Parmas himself had appeared on the scene.