While we spoke, the carriage stopped for a long rest — in other words, it was time for lunch.
Same as yesterday, lunch consisted of bread, bacon, sausage, and cheese. Followed by some sort of pickle.
We received reasonable portions, but as three women, we had a relatively large amount left over.
If this were before, I probably wouldn’t have had a problem putting away that much food, but perhaps my stomach shrank, because I ended up eating a very small amount of it. This is long overdue, but since the food served at Leon’s estate was too luxurious, I didn’t notice the change.
Even so, the meals for Leon’s forces were on the richer side. When I was a mercenary, it was a good day if I got cheese and bread. Not a lot, either. However, I found something nostalgic and soothing in this more ordinary fare.
Feeling guilty, I gave the leftover food to the soldier who came on delivery duty each time. He was genuinely grateful. He was going on foot, so I wanted to cheer him on.
Past the long noontime break, the troops steadily advanced.
Yesterday and today, I became familiar with the routine Leon’s forces — let’s call them the Leon Corps — went through every day.
In the morning, things would kick into gear pretty much at dawn.
At this time of year, the days were still long, so they would rise quite early. Maybe the cooks got up earlier than anyone else, since breakfast would be ready not long after waking up.
The breakfast menu was bread and soup. Cheese too. Nothing excessive; the bread was pretty tough, and the soup was quite rich in flavor.
Naturally, no one was baking bread on the road. It was made to have a longer shelf-life.
The time allotted for breakfast was relatively short. Everyone would wolf down their food and prepare for departure at the same time. By the way, the three of us would have breakfast in the carriage. In the middle of the hustle and bustle, there wasn’t anything we could do. Even if we went outside, at most, we’d stretch our bodies and that’d be it.
Lately, perhaps because everyone was so busy, our acquaintances had barely stopped by to see us. The unit had four carriages, placed at sensible positions in the procession. 1 In the mornings, I would usually spot Rupert making his rounds. No idea where Leon was.
Once everyone finished their hasty breakfast, they would march.
After that, there was one short break before lunch, but otherwise, the march continued on.
At noon, lunch went the way I described earlier. We would take this meal in the carriage too. There was nothing in particular keeping us from going out, but given the sausage fest outside, Rupert cautioned us on the first day to stay inside as much as possible.
However, it seemed that someone was assigned to bring us lunch; we saw the same face every morning and afternoon. He was a soldier, but he primarily worked as the head of the kitchen. He was young, and unlike the others, he wore an apron over his light armor. His bizarre get-up cracked me up.
Incidentally, he was the one I gave my food to, and when I expressly asked his name, he said it was Sieg. Then, eating my lunch, he talked a little.
The topic: so what is the Leon Corps anyway?
“Ummm, when Lord Leon sets out on a campaign, this unit is assembled from the troops in the Second Army Corps. We’re referred to as the Elite Guard.”
Ohhh, the Elite Guard. Yeah, I feel like that suits them perfectly.
Upon asking for more information, it seemed that the Second Army Corps consisted of roughly twelve thousand soldiers, divided into three battalions, plus a force of magi. Vyde and Rupert were called platoon commanders, but they were essentially the battalion and company commanders, respectively.
Then, what did that make Irene? Apparently, she was just rank and file, but thanks to the convenient flexibility of her magic, she was pulled from the magi every time. Thank god. She couldn’t pull off being a battalion commander.
There was one short break in the afternoon, and then, around the time that the setting sun dyed the sky bloody red, the corps would stop for the day.
The carriage would roll to a stop amidst the clatter of soldiers setting up camp. This part hadn’t changed since day one.
Then, only in the evening, Leon would make an appearance to invite us to dinner.
–
–
“How is it, traveling by carriage?”
asked Leon, as we all sat around a bonfire with our food.
He was his usual self; there wasn’t a trace of the mood at the river bank yesterday. Instead, I might’ve been the one acting strange. I guess I expected as much?
Well, I’d be better off not making a big deal out of it.
“Ah, it’s comfortable. It’s a carriage, same as before, but naturally, it’s different from the slave wagon.”
I took a slightly sarcastic jab at Leon for making us slaves again.
I wanted to say this much.
“Miss Aira, Miss Palmira, how has the journey been for you? If there’s something, then please, don’t hold back.”
Perhaps catching my drift, Leon smiled wryly as he prompted the other two for their opinions.
I had the same feeling yesterday, but recently, it seemed like they were more reserved in conversation when Leon was around. I wish they wouldn’t be so oddly concerned.
“The seats are soft, and even when I sleep, my body doesn’t hurt anywhere. It’s very nice.”
“It’s too nice. Kinda boring.”
“That’s…”
Devouring the heavy stew with enthusiasm, Palmira really didn’t sugarcoat her words. Maybe he didn’t think that she really would do as he said, but even Leon looked a little daunted.
When I saw him like that, I grinned a bit maliciously. It’s, hmm, gratifying?
Though, Palmira’s complaint seemed pretty difficult to resolve.
“Thank you for the food.”
And Palmira, perhaps having no particular expectations of a response, quickly went through the customary niceties. She stood from her seat with her sword in hand.
Where’s she thinking of going like that?
“Hm–”
“Is something the matter?”
“Yesterday, it was the same thing. It’s like she’s up to something after dinner. Makes me wonder.”
I quickly rose from my seat too. I was curious about what Palmira was doing.
I lost sight of Palmira because of Aira’s question. Sweeping my gaze around, I gave Aira a brief reply.
“Peeping isn’t very admirable, you know?”
Leon’s words were common sense, but he was already getting up, just like me. Look, if you’re curious, then you should just say so.
“Ah, me too.”
Aira also got to her feet so that we wouldn’t leave her behind.
With the three of us together, it wasn’t peeping anymore, alright?
It wasn’t like Palmira was going out of her way to hide, either, so we followed after her in quick succession.
–
–
“Then, I beg you.”
Ahead of us was Palmira, holding her naked blade in one hand, and Rupert, looking terribly unmotivated with a meter-long wooden sword resting against his shoulder.
“You said that yesterday too, Polly.”
A ring of keenly interested soldiers already surrounded them, leaving them enough space to move around.
The sun had set a long time ago, but the area was illuminated by lanterns to excess, the two figures casting several shadows on the ground. Basically, the peanut gallery got a good view.
Of course, since we came to satisfy our own curiosity, we were the same.
“If it’s the sword, Vyde or Commander Leopard can do it, you know? Teaching’s not my thing.”
“You’re the one for me.”
Palmira’s frank words sent a resounding ‘Ooohhh’ through the crowd.
Well, subtract the sword, add in a blush, and that might’ve been the normal response.
But instead, Palmira stood at the ready, full of determination. I’d gotten used to it recently, so it didn’t bother me, but facing off against Rupert with a nasty glint in her eye, she even seemed to radiate bloodlust.
Only, it’s kinda sad: given her actual appearance, all I could see was Rupert bullying a child.
“Well, if you’re gonna go that far, I don’t have much of a choice, do I? I’m ready anytime, Palmira.”
Rupert faced Palmira, still holding the wooden sword in one hand. The air around them grew heavy.
“…Hey, how strong is Rupert?”
I whispered to Leon, watching the two motionless figures. Leon, who’d been watching them with admiration, suddenly snapped back to reality and crossed his arms.
“Hmmm, well… I haven’t gauged Miss Palmira’s strength, but if I had to say, he’s strong enough that I can’t guarantee Miss Palmira will make it through unscathed.”
It seemed that even Leon had confidence in Rupert’s strength.
Because Aira looked worried upon hearing those words, his expression turned complicated.
But Palmira was twenty years old. She was probably the strongest out of the three of us. I wanted her to kick ass.
“Oh, isn’t that the Princess?”
When I silently cheered Palmira on from the back of the ring, one of the nearby soldiers noticed and called out to me.
And like that, it seemed to travel through the crowd: ‘It’s the Princess.’ ‘It’s true.’ ‘The Princess, it’s the Princess.’ ‘Oh? Even Lord Leon’s here.’ And so on. The sound of murmuring spread outward.
…What’s that? ‘Princess’? Who in the world could they possibly be talking about?
…I don’t know why I even try. Alright, so I’m already being treated like a princess…? Come to think of it, Rupert did say something like [Everyone on the estate knows about it].
“Ha–!”
While I was sulking, Palmira lunged at Rupert.
I had a feeling that in the middle of the ‘Princess’ stuff, Rupert’s focus shifted over here for a moment. And she seized it.
A step into a sideways sweep with the sword in one hand. She aimed for the right side of Rupert’s abdomen.
Ooh, nice arc. Rupert had his sword in his right hand too, so it would be hard for him to intercept her.
“–Hm!”
Hard, but without seeming to ward off her sword, Rupert backstepped out of danger.
However, it seemed Palmira had read this far too, and she thrust her sword forward. She swung her left hand.
Before I could finish my thought — ‘Huh?’ — I realized that it held a dagger.
My dagger. Which reminds me, I never got it back. But does Palmira see it as something she received from me? That’s really nice, but — .
Anyway, that dagger also headed for his right abdomen. Considering the height difference, I had the impression that aiming for anything above the neck would be a lost cause to begin with.
But from her opponent’s perspective, that made it easy to identify her target, which only put her at a disadvantage.
As I expected, Rupert was able to avoid her easily with a turn of his body.
“Rrruah–!”
But from there, Palmira attacked yet again. As if to hide, her evaded left hand and upper torso twisted toward the ground.
A moment later, Palmira’s leg lashed upward like a whip. Target: Rupert’s head, or possibly his collarbone.
I breathed in sharply. It was a clever combo. Diverting her opponent’s attention to the right abdomen, setting up the illusion that she could only aim for the midbody, and then a kick from overhead… There was no avoiding this. Unconsciously, I gulped and clenched my two fists tightly.
“Oops, whoa.”
And yet, the kick I considered the finisher of a perfect combo, Rupert body-blocked it with ease.
When he avoided her attack, he’d fallen back. But in tandem with Palmira unleashing her kick, he moved forward and caught her.
Palmira’s spin focused on her foot as the point of action. How do you stop a spin? …Pin the axis.
As a result, a bewildered Palmira got swept into a princess carry by Rupert.
Seeing that somehow reminded me of something.
“Hey, don’t tell me — isn’t that your sure-kill move?”
Back when I jumped at Leon, I’d also ended up like that before I knew it. Feeling a trace of kinship with Palmira, I fixed Leon with my stare.
“How could it be? It’s a coincidence, of course. A coincidence.”
Leon laughed. Judging from the lack of dry humor, his smile was the real thing for once.
Rupert instructed Palmira fairly precisely after that, his voice unenthusiastic. How to move the body, where and how to step, and the like.
In my opinion, Rupert’s fighting style was probably a good match for Palmira. No doubt she chose him because she knew that herself.
I didn’t have to ask why she was doing things like this.
Palmira being Palmira, she found something to do, and then devoted all her effort to it.
And that made her genuinely happy.
Footnotes
1. 部隊は馬車４台を含んで、行軍の関係上縦に伸びているが、当然配置があるのだろう
While we spoke, the carriage stopped for a long rest — in other words, it was time for lunch.
Same as yesterday, lunch consisted of bread, bacon, sausage, and cheese. Followed by some sort of pickle.
We received reasonable portions, but as three women, we had a relatively large amount left over.
If this were before, I probably wouldn’t have had a problem putting away that much food, but perhaps my stomach shrank, because I ended up eating a very small amount of it. This is long overdue, but since the food served at Leon’s estate was too luxurious, I didn’t notice the change.
Even so, the meals for Leon’s forces were on the richer side. When I was a mercenary, it was a good day if I got cheese and bread. Not a lot, either. However, I found something nostalgic and soothing in this more ordinary fare.
Feeling guilty, I gave the leftover food to the soldier who came on delivery duty each time. He was genuinely grateful. He was going on foot, so I wanted to cheer him on.
Past the long noontime break, the troops steadily advanced.
Yesterday and today, I became familiar with the routine Leon’s forces — let’s call them the Leon Corps — went through every day.
In the morning, things would kick into gear pretty much at dawn.
At this time of year, the days were still long, so they would rise quite early. Maybe the cooks got up earlier than anyone else, since breakfast would be ready not long after waking up.
The breakfast menu was bread and soup. Cheese too. Nothing excessive; the bread was pretty tough, and the soup was quite rich in flavor.
Naturally, no one was baking bread on the road. It was made to have a longer shelf-life.
The time allotted for breakfast was relatively short. Everyone would wolf down their food and prepare for departure at the same time. By the way, the three of us would have breakfast in the carriage. In the middle of the hustle and bustle, there wasn’t anything we could do. Even if we went outside, at most, we’d stretch our bodies and that’d be it.
Lately, perhaps because everyone was so busy, our acquaintances had barely stopped by to see us. The unit had four carriages, placed at sensible positions in the procession. 1 In the mornings, I would usually spot Rupert making his rounds. No idea where Leon was.
Once everyone finished their hasty breakfast, they would march.
After that, there was one short break before lunch, but otherwise, the march continued on.
At noon, lunch went the way I described earlier. We would take this meal in the carriage too. There was nothing in particular keeping us from going out, but given the sausage fest outside, Rupert cautioned us on the first day to stay inside as much as possible.
However, it seemed that someone was assigned to bring us lunch; we saw the same face every morning and afternoon. He was a soldier, but he primarily worked as the head of the kitchen. He was young, and unlike the others, he wore an apron over his light armor. His bizarre get-up cracked me up.
Incidentally, he was the one I gave my food to, and when I expressly asked his name, he said it was Sieg. Then, eating my lunch, he talked a little.
The topic: so what is the Leon Corps anyway?
“Ummm, when Lord Leon sets out on a campaign, this unit is assembled from the troops in the Second Army Corps. We’re referred to as the Elite Guard.”
Ohhh, the Elite Guard. Yeah, I feel like that suits them perfectly.
Upon asking for more information, it seemed that the Second Army Corps consisted of roughly twelve thousand soldiers, divided into three battalions, plus a force of magi. Vyde and Rupert were called platoon commanders, but they were essentially the battalion and company commanders, respectively.
Then, what did that make Irene? Apparently, she was just rank and file, but thanks to the convenient flexibility of her magic, she was pulled from the magi every time. Thank god. She couldn’t pull off being a battalion commander.
There was one short break in the afternoon, and then, around the time that the setting sun dyed the sky bloody red, the corps would stop for the day.
The carriage would roll to a stop amidst the clatter of soldiers setting up camp. This part hadn’t changed since day one.
Then, only in the evening, Leon would make an appearance to invite us to dinner.
–
–
“How is it, traveling by carriage?”
asked Leon, as we all sat around a bonfire with our food.
He was his usual self; there wasn’t a trace of the mood at the river bank yesterday. Instead, I might’ve been the one acting strange. I guess I expected as much?
Well, I’d be better off not making a big deal out of it.
“Ah, it’s comfortable. It’s a carriage, same as before, but naturally, it’s different from the slave wagon.”
I took a slightly sarcastic jab at Leon for making us slaves again.
I wanted to say this much.
“Miss Aira, Miss Palmira, how has the journey been for you? If there’s something, then please, don’t hold back.”
Perhaps catching my drift, Leon smiled wryly as he prompted the other two for their opinions.
I had the same feeling yesterday, but recently, it seemed like they were more reserved in conversation when Leon was around. I wish they wouldn’t be so oddly concerned.
“The seats are soft, and even when I sleep, my body doesn’t hurt anywhere. It’s very nice.”
“It’s too nice. Kinda boring.”
“That’s…”
Devouring the heavy stew with enthusiasm, Palmira really didn’t sugarcoat her words. Maybe he didn’t think that she really would do as he said, but even Leon looked a little daunted.
When I saw him like that, I grinned a bit maliciously. It’s, hmm, gratifying?
Though, Palmira’s complaint seemed pretty difficult to resolve.
“Thank you for the food.”
And Palmira, perhaps having no particular expectations of a response, quickly went through the customary niceties. She stood from her seat with her sword in hand.
Where’s she thinking of going like that?
“Hm–”
“Is something the matter?”
“Yesterday, it was the same thing. It’s like she’s up to something after dinner. Makes me wonder.”
I quickly rose from my seat too. I was curious about what Palmira was doing.
I lost sight of Palmira because of Aira’s question. Sweeping my gaze around, I gave Aira a brief reply.
“Peeping isn’t very admirable, you know?”
Leon’s words were common sense, but he was already getting up, just like me. Look, if you’re curious, then you should just say so.
“Ah, me too.”
Aira also got to her feet so that we wouldn’t leave her behind.
With the three of us together, it wasn’t peeping anymore, alright?
It wasn’t like Palmira was going out of her way to hide, either, so we followed after her in quick succession.
–
–
“Then, I beg you.”
Ahead of us was Palmira, holding her naked blade in one hand, and Rupert, looking terribly unmotivated with a meter-long wooden sword resting against his shoulder.
“You said that yesterday too, Polly.”
A ring of keenly interested soldiers already surrounded them, leaving them enough space to move around.
The sun had set a long time ago, but the area was illuminated by lanterns to excess, the two figures casting several shadows on the ground. Basically, the peanut gallery got a good view.
Of course, since we came to satisfy our own curiosity, we were the same.
“If it’s the sword, Vyde or Commander Leopard can do it, you know? Teaching’s not my thing.”
“You’re the one for me.”
Palmira’s frank words sent a resounding ‘Ooohhh’ through the crowd.
Well, subtract the sword, add in a blush, and that might’ve been the normal response.
But instead, Palmira stood at the ready, full of determination. I’d gotten used to it recently, so it didn’t bother me, but facing off against Rupert with a nasty glint in her eye, she even seemed to radiate bloodlust.
Only, it’s kinda sad: given her actual appearance, all I could see was Rupert bullying a child.
“Well, if you’re gonna go that far, I don’t have much of a choice, do I? I’m ready anytime, Palmira.”
Rupert faced Palmira, still holding the wooden sword in one hand. The air around them grew heavy.
“…Hey, how strong is Rupert?”
I whispered to Leon, watching the two motionless figures. Leon, who’d been watching them with admiration, suddenly snapped back to reality and crossed his arms.
“Hmmm, well… I haven’t gauged Miss Palmira’s strength, but if I had to say, he’s strong enough that I can’t guarantee Miss Palmira will make it through unscathed.”
It seemed that even Leon had confidence in Rupert’s strength.
Because Aira looked worried upon hearing those words, his expression turned complicated.
But Palmira was twenty years old. She was probably the strongest out of the three of us. I wanted her to kick ass.
“Oh, isn’t that the Princess?”
When I silently cheered Palmira on from the back of the ring, one of the nearby soldiers noticed and called out to me.
And like that, it seemed to travel through the crowd: ‘It’s the Princess.’ ‘It’s true.’ ‘The Princess, it’s the Princess.’ ‘Oh? Even Lord Leon’s here.’ And so on. The sound of murmuring spread outward.
…What’s that? ‘Princess’? Who in the world could they possibly be talking about?
…I don’t know why I even try. Alright, so I’m already being treated like a princess…? Come to think of it, Rupert did say something like [Everyone on the estate knows about it].
“Ha–!”
While I was sulking, Palmira lunged at Rupert.
I had a feeling that in the middle of the ‘Princess’ stuff, Rupert’s focus shifted over here for a moment. And she seized it.
A step into a sideways sweep with the sword in one hand. She aimed for the right side of Rupert’s abdomen.
Ooh, nice arc. Rupert had his sword in his right hand too, so it would be hard for him to intercept her.
“–Hm!”
Hard, but without seeming to ward off her sword, Rupert backstepped out of danger.
However, it seemed Palmira had read this far too, and she thrust her sword forward. She swung her left hand.
Before I could finish my thought — ‘Huh?’ — I realized that it held a dagger.
My dagger. Which reminds me, I never got it back. But does Palmira see it as something she received from me? That’s really nice, but — .
Anyway, that dagger also headed for his right abdomen. Considering the height difference, I had the impression that aiming for anything above the neck would be a lost cause to begin with.
But from her opponent’s perspective, that made it easy to identify her target, which only put her at a disadvantage.
As I expected, Rupert was able to avoid her easily with a turn of his body.
“Rrruah–!”
But from there, Palmira attacked yet again. As if to hide, her evaded left hand and upper torso twisted toward the ground.
A moment later, Palmira’s leg lashed upward like a whip. Target: Rupert’s head, or possibly his collarbone.
I breathed in sharply. It was a clever combo. Diverting her opponent’s attention to the right abdomen, setting up the illusion that she could only aim for the midbody, and then a kick from overhead… There was no avoiding this. Unconsciously, I gulped and clenched my two fists tightly.
“Oops, whoa.”
And yet, the kick I considered the finisher of a perfect combo, Rupert body-blocked it with ease.
When he avoided her attack, he’d fallen back. But in tandem with Palmira unleashing her kick, he moved forward and caught her.
Palmira’s spin focused on her foot as the point of action. How do you stop a spin? …Pin the axis.
As a result, a bewildered Palmira got swept into a princess carry by Rupert.
Seeing that somehow reminded me of something.
“Hey, don’t tell me — isn’t that your sure-kill move?”
Back when I jumped at Leon, I’d also ended up like that before I knew it. Feeling a trace of kinship with Palmira, I fixed Leon with my stare.
“How could it be? It’s a coincidence, of course. A coincidence.”
Leon laughed. Judging from the lack of dry humor, his smile was the real thing for once.
Rupert instructed Palmira fairly precisely after that, his voice unenthusiastic. How to move the body, where and how to step, and the like.
In my opinion, Rupert’s fighting style was probably a good match for Palmira. No doubt she chose him because she knew that herself.
I didn’t have to ask why she was doing things like this.
Palmira being Palmira, she found something to do, and then devoted all her effort to it.
And that made her genuinely happy.
Footnotes
1. 部隊は馬車４台を含んで、行軍の関係上縦に伸びているが、当然配置があるのだろう
