Chapter 58 Now I Am Rich (2)

He wanted to take off his glove and throw it in Viscount Balson's face that very instant. But before he could, Viscount Balson swiftly shifted his target.

"Let's ask Baron Schneider himself. Baron. Do you believe that your soldiers greatly influenced the tide of battle?"

Baron Schneider, who had remained silent until then, said after a moment of deep thought.

"I do not know."

"You don't know? What do you mean you don't know?"

"To be truthful, I was not at the scene at the time, so I cannot confirm the facts."

"You weren't at the scene?"

"Yes, Viscount. At that time, I was leading my troops and on standby at the location the Count had indicated. My son led fifty soldiers to assist the vanguard, but I do not know what my son and my family's soldiers accomplished at that time."

"Hahaha. A mere fifty soldiers? Not even a hundred. And you're saying it makes sense that they turned the tide of the war?"

Viscount Balson was quick to seize on his words. And Baron Schneider replied.

"Of course, it does make sense."

"What did you say?"

"As Viscount Freis mentioned, the soldiers personally trained by my son are strong. Their skill is such that they could be called knights without shame."

"You're spouting ridiculous nonsense."

"What would I gain by telling a lie that would be immediately exposed? What I have said is the undeniable truth."

Baron Schneider did not get flustered and calmly said what he had to say. To Viscount Balson, this appeared as... 'This one is a schemer, I see.

His control over his expression is extraordinary.' It looked like the masterful bluff of a seasoned politician. Making a bluff seem real through sheer bravado.

Making the truth sound like a lie. These were things anyone who lived in the world of politics could and had to do. 'I thought all these eastern country bumpkins were ignorant and violent simpletons, but it seems there's one who knows a thing or two about politics.'

Of course, it was a misunderstanding.

Politics?

Could Baron Schneider, the greatest pushover and fool in the entire East, ever be capable of such a thing? The words coming from his mouth were simply his honest feelings. He did not consider himself to be a great man.

But even so, he knew the efforts his son and the soldiers training under him had put in. And he knew what they had gained in return. To not acknowledge the soldiers' skills here would be no different from insulting the blood and sweat they had shed over the past five years.

That was why he had merely stated the facts calmly. For no matter how much of a kind-hearted pushover and fool he was, there were some things he could never compromise on. That calm gaze made the seasoned politician, Viscount Balson, flinch for a moment.

But...

'It's a bluff. It must be a bluff.' Changing the tide of a battle with just fifty soldiers?

Soldiers with skills rivaling knights? No matter how he thought about it, it was not logical. No, if a soldier's skills were on par with a knight's, who would leave them as a soldier?

They should be knighted. It was something that could not logically happen.

"Very well. Then, to prove the baron's innocence, how about we have my knight and your soldier face off?"

"That is..."

The baron hesitated. He believed in his soldiers' skills. But the baron did not know exactly how strong they were.

What if he made them fight a real knight and a soldier got hurt? Unlike ordinary lords, Baron Schneider cherished each and every one of his soldiers. He did not want them to shed blood for the sake of merit.

Viscount Balson judged Baron Schneider's hesitation as his bluff being exposed and attacked more forcefully.

"Of course, I will be the one to choose the soldier from the baron's house. If all the soldiers are of knightly skill, it shouldn't matter who steps forward. Hahaha."

Seeing the hesitating baron and the heartily laughing Viscount Balson, the onlookers found Viscount Balson's claim more credible. 'To be honest, it's unbelievable that every soldier could be on par with a knight.'

'It's impossible.'

'Logically speaking, isn't it obviously a lie?' Just then, someone stepped forward in place of the hesitating baron.

"Understood. If you command it, I will face the Viscount's knight anytime."

The one who stepped forward at that moment was not a noble from another fief, nor was he even a knight. It was Sanson, a common soldier from the House of Baron Schneider.

"Sanson!"

"My lord. Please believe in us, and in the young master."

Sanson could not bear it any longer. He knew this was not a place where he, a mere soldier and not a knight, should speak up. He knew, but...

'How dare they persecute the baron.' Baron Schneider was his lord. In the barren Schneider Barony, he was their lord who cherished his people more than anyone and had ruled benevolently for their sake.

The reason the people of the fief were able to put down roots and live, thinking their land was not so bad to live in despite it crawling with monsters in the past, was thanks to Baron Schneider's benevolent rule solely for his people. He could no longer stand by and watch Baron Schneider's honor be disgraced.

"Anyone will do. I will face them."

As Sanson took a step forward and spoke, Viscount Balson flinched for a moment. 'This man... is he really a soldier?' Although he had never seriously trained with a sword, he still had an eye for talent, developed from seeing various knights as a noble.

Even to Viscount Balson's eyes, the soldier named Sanson seemed to have an extraordinary physique and presence. Perhaps one or two of them, while not quite knights, might be skilled soldiers. 'I can't give them any room.'

Having made up his mind, Viscount Balson answered immediately.

"As I said before, I will be the one to designate the opponent. That is the proper way to verify the truth of your lord's words."

"I do not mind."

"Good. Count. Would you be a witness to this duel?"

"A duel between a knight and a soldier, you mean."

"On a small scale, it is to determine the honor of Baron Schneider, and on a larger scale, it is to establish order throughout the East with a proper distribution of rewards."

"... That tongue of yours."

"Pardon?"

"Never mind. I permit it."

Having come this far, Count Parmas had no choice but to grant permission. A duel between a soldier and a knight? It was absurd, but according to the logic that came from Viscount Balson's tongue, it was necessary for the order of the East, and all the surrounding nobles had expressions that said, 'Well, that's true.'

What could he say? He could not use his authority as the Marching Count of the East to suppress them all here.

"We will move to a different location. The duel will proceed."

"Yes!"

And so, all the nobles of the East went outside the barracks.

A duel that started suddenly. Although it was a duel with much political meaning attached, the nobles of the East were actually interested in the duel itself.

"The soldiers of the House of Baron Schneider have long been rumored to be strong. Since their fief is located in the harshest region of the East... you know what I mean, don't you?"

"Hmm, that's true, but it's just a matter of degree. Aren't most of us Eastern nobles confronting the monsters of the great forest?"

"That's right. And no matter what, the claim that a soldier's level is comparable to a knight's is a bit hard to believe."

"That is true, but..."

Originally, the Eastern nobles, being military aristocrats, were very attentive to military matters. And most of them had trained with the sword since childhood, so unless they were exceptionally untalented, they had reached a level of one or two stars. And Baron Schneider?

That man was ridiculously untalented, so it was impossible for him, but it wasn't for a lack of training. Such Eastern nobles showed interest in the duel itself. 'Ignorant country bumpkins...'

Viscount Balson was displeased with the situation. The Eastern nobles were watching this duel with interest, as if it were a spectacle that had come along after a long time. Without even knowing the true meaning of this duel.

'Fools.

Just live like that for the rest of your lives.' Here he was, stepping forward to fight to prevent Count Parmas's influence from excessively dominating the entire East, yet those fools were just watching the duel for fun, like watching a fire across the river. Without understanding the significance of this duel in the slightest.

'I will win this duel and prove my judgment was correct. Through that, I will politically leverage the fact that I led the opposition against Count Parmas, the Marching Count of the East, to create my own faction in the East. Using that faction as a foothold, I shall one day return to the central court.'

Though Viscount Balson was counting his chickens before they hatched, his goal was, in any case, a return to the center. The thought that he might rot away his entire life in a barren backwater like this had never crossed his mind.

His counterargument to Count Parmas and his belittling of Baron Schneider were merely means to achieve a political record. And for that... 'I must win this duel.

Only then can I prove my judgment is correct.'

"Sir Miranda."

"Yes, my lord."

"You will step forward yourself."

"Me, my lord?"

"I know it may be unpleasant to face a soldier. But this is important, so you must be the one."

"... Yes. I understand."

The knight designated by Viscount Balson was a three-star knight, and the man he trusted the most. It wasn't that the knights belonging to his house were of a high level, but this man was a genuine knight hired with a great deal of money and high treatment.

So much so that he had to choose his words carefully when giving orders, despite the man being his subordinate. Asking such a man as Miranda to duel a soldier was originally a difficult thing to say.

But...

'I must ensure victory.' Having made up his mind, he pushed things forward. And if he had played his strongest card, the next step was to find the weakest card among his opponents...

'That one should do.' A single soldier caught Viscount Balson's eye. He was tall, but had a slightly thinner build than the other soldiers, and a somewhat scattered air about him.

If not for the armor and weapons he wore, one would believe he was a petty thief who roamed the back alleys, not a soldier.

"Baron Schneider. As promised, I will designate one of your soldiers."

"Please do so."

"Hmm, you there."

Without a moment's hesitation, Viscount Balson pointed to a single soldier. The designated soldier pointed at himself with his finger, an expression on his face that said, 'Me?'

"Yes, you. You have an excellent physique. Someone like you must be quite strong among the soldiers, so it will be a fair match."

"... Am I really doing this?"

"If you are scared, you may admit defeat and step down. I have no intention of forcing a common soldier."

"No, it's not that..."

The designated soldier had a bewildered expression.

And then...

"Well, if I have to, I will."

And then he bowed his head to Baron Schneider and said.

"My lord. I will be going now."

"Hmm, there is no need to overdo it."

"I won't do anything like that."

A relaxed smile graced the face of the soldier as he spoke. Then he stepped forward and said.

"I am Oliver, from the Schneider Fief."

The person designated was Oliver, also known as Soldier A.