Chapter 58
Of course, Charles was a capable informant; given time, he could find out anything. But right now, they didn’t have that time.
What if something happened while Charles was left to act alone? What if he were taken hostage, or the hard-earned information stolen? What if he ran into an enemy far beyond his ability to handle, or worse—if the enemy had someone who could actually make use of the information taken from him?
None of these possibilities could be dismissed as unlikely. And if such a situation arose, Mia could not protect him as easily as she could back in the homeland.
That alone settled the decision. Mia cast one last glance at the ruins and spoke.
“Then this… building is better off gone.”
Even if only roofless rubble remained, it still kept the semblance of a usable structure—hence she called it a building. The phrasing hardly mattered. Etienne nodded as if to say as much.
“I’ll order the demolition.”
“Just what trick did you pull?”
On the way back to the main force, Charles suddenly spoke up.
“I really can’t make sense of it.”
“You mean the capital? There was an uproar in Contor?”
“Why don’t you explain in detail.”
Charles stifled a laugh. His master pretended otherwise, but still enjoyed being praised for the effects of her schemes.
Though these days, she often said she didn’t even deserve such things.
All the more reason it was his duty, as her subordinate, to bolster her.
“These days, Etalon-style goods are all the rage in Contor. Especially things you can wear, like clothes or jewelry—their prices have skyrocketed, sometimes dozens of times over.”
“Really? That’s the first I’ve heard.”
“But apparently the prices were raised before the demand even surged.”
Naturally so. The capital’s vanity-stricken nobles wouldn’t dream of missing the newest luxury item released from Grenier.
Seeing Charles whisper as though sharing a great secret, Mia allowed herself a faint smile. Even without any official reports reaching her, Grenier was clearly doing its job well.
“Though I couldn’t visit Contor in person while stuck here, from what I hear, it’s fashionable to do everything in Etalon style these days. I even hear of estates being remodeled completely.”
“The price of solants must have gone up.”
“Of course. Ever since you started in Raven, merchants have been hoarding solants. These days, you can hardly buy anything with mere florins. Many nobles, deprived of solants, are resorting to buying gold instead.”
Mia let out a satisfied smile. Everything was going according to plan.
After a long silence, Mia finally broke it.
“Charles.”
He turned his head toward her.
“Your conduct here… well, it’s been worth noticing.”
“Thank you.”
For Mia, who was sparing with compliments, that was no small praise.
“So I’m saying—I’d like you to contribute to Etalon more directly.”
Charles halted in his tracks and turned to face her. The faintest hint of wariness flickered across his expression.
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean—how about becoming a ‘hero’? In times like these, your information network would be most useful right on the front lines.”
A bitter smile crossed Charles’s lips. A hero? He knew all too well how much Mia loathed that word ever since the oracle.
“You flatter me. Truly. But I think what I already do is beyond my limits.”
Mia’s eyes narrowed. A habit of hers whenever things didn’t go her way.
“Don’t be pointlessly modest. Are you saying you can’t handle battle? If you took charge of reconnaissance, excusing you from combat would be easy enough.”
“Oh, hardly. I’m quite used to blood.”
Though his tone was light, his gaze was unusually serious.
“But my talent lies in moving unseen and gathering information. My lady—back when you were still simply my lady, everything you taught me was in that field.”
“And so?”
“Wouldn’t dressing someone better suited as an assassin or informant in a pristine white uniform be nothing but a waste of decades of training?”
Mia studied him for a long moment, then reluctantly nodded.
“Sharp tongue. Fine, do as you see fit for now. But I won’t let you wander off alone forever.”
“As always, I’m ready to serve,” Charles said with a shallow bow.
Before they rejoined the main force, Charles left with a final farewell.
He seemed displeased at being sent to Contor. But really, what could he do with his petty complaints.
While Mia could not quite shake her irritation at him, Etienne went about one last inspection of the legion’s readiness. The plan was to set fire to the fortress and head to the next destination, but their departure had already been greatly delayed by the unexpected death of a soldier.
“There’s no problem with food storage?”
“None, sir! We used the devices supplied by the trade caravan, so it will stay preserved for quite some time.”
That would suffice. Mia nodded slowly in thought.
There had been many variables, and the results thus far had not been entirely satisfactory. But Etienne was still alive. For now, that was enough, Mia thought.
Though the first forest they had encountered was but a holy illusion, the road to the next city led through a real, thick woodland. So when bandits suddenly appeared among the trees, it wasn’t all that surprising.
Easier to handle than unknown shadow monsters, at least, Mia thought dryly.
“Hands up! Drop your weapons and surrender!”
Of course, if any soldier truly surrendered to such a pitiful threat, their commander would never let it stand.
Besides, these opponents weren’t particularly intimidating. Their movements looked more hesitant than murderous.
As the column remained unresponsive, the bandits grew flustered. Meanwhile, Mia scrutinized them from the carriage: the way they held their weapons, the quality of their clothes, even the desperate poverty barely hidden by their bluster.
“Hand over your goods!”
The one who seemed to be the leader shouted again. His voice cracked.
Perhaps sensing a real threat, Etienne’s hand slid slowly toward his sword.
“Wait. Not yet.”
Mia stopped him in a low voice. As the bandits drew closer, her certainty only grew.
These were no seasoned criminals. Etienne must have sensed it too.
Their grip on their weapons was completely wrong. Their fists swung awkwardly. Even their expressions betrayed their ignorance of how to menace others properly.
Several of them kept stealing glances at their supposed leader, as if unsure what to do now that they had managed to stop the carriage. They were far too clumsy to be men who lived by robbery.
Perhaps they only turned to this very recently.
Etienne murmured at her ear,
“Seven of them. Subduing them won’t be hard.”
Though she had no intention of subduing them, Mia nodded absently, lost in thought.
“Look at that fabric, the cut of it. If they can make a shirt like that, they aren’t farmers.”
“Usually those who fall to banditry after hardship are farmers or butchers…” Etienne trailed off. He could not deny what his eyes showed. Beneath all the mud and wear from living rough in the woods, their garments were unmistakably fine quality.
On the leader’s jacket was a faint embroidery mark that looked like a merchant guild’s insignia. Another man’s boots—scuffed though they were—were the kind only skilled craftsmen could make, the kind only wealthier men could afford.
The leader stepped forward, hefting a sword far too heavy for him.
“I won’t say it again! Hand over your goods—or your lives!”
Naturally, Mia did not comply.
“You’re from the north. Larnwick, isn’t it?”
The accuracy of her guess startled him so much that his grip faltered. The dull blade slipped from his hand and thudded into the dirt.
Though no report had yet arrived from the informant, Mia knew the northern regions—especially around Larnwick—must have suffered greatly from the schemes she unleashed in Raven.
Cold and infertile lands to begin with, Larnwick’s people often turned to mercenary work or craftsmanship to survive. Their quality goods earned them prosperity and respect across Veridian.
But once trade routes were disrupted and markets thrown into chaos, their clients faltered. This outcome had been inevitable.
And so the people before her were nothing less than the direct result of her machinations—driven to banditry by desperation, living proof that Veridian’s economy was collapsing so badly it was strange the Emperor had not yet moved. For even skilled artisans, even perhaps minor nobles, had been reduced to vagrants on the roadside.
In a way, this is welcome news, she thought.
The existence of these bandits spoke more clearly than any report could: her plan was working.
“We have no reason to fight you.”
