Chapter 153: War Beast Steed
Well, thinking about it from a common-sense perspective, it is strange for a noble daughter’s marriage partner not to be a noble.
Sure, there are nobles so poor they marry their daughters off to wealthy merchants… but this is Count Missgancia we’re talking about, you know?
This country’s nobility system doesn’t have clearly defined, neat ranks like Baron or Earl, so it’s hard to explain properly, but to put it simply, Count Missgancia is basically a “Margrave.”
He’s an undeniably great noble.
Moreover, he’s taken other nobles as vassals and even formed his own faction.
A big shot among big shots, huh?
Certainly, the Royal Capital is a massive metropolis with a population exceeding two hundred thousand.
Other noble houses with ancient bloodlines possess incredibly strong knightly orders, as many as they please.
However, the one focusing on the economy, distribution, and development is Count Missgancia.
Modern people like me tend to think the guy with the money is the strongest, but this world is still medieval. The surrounding lords and foreign countries seem to think that only being strong in a brawl is what makes you great.
They’re fundamentally playing different games.
While everyone else is living life with the intensity of Skyrim, Count Missgancia is over there playing Civilization all by himself. What he sees is just too different.
Really, he’s like one of those fictionalized versions of Nobunaga whose abilities get exaggerated, that guy.
So, apparently, that’s how I became a noble too.
I heard that the management of the fief is completely handled by a steward arranged by Count Missgancia, and it’s set up so that I just receive the profits.
Oh, wait, it seems he gave me the village with the Soap Factory. There’s a message saying I can mass-produce Scented Soap here. And what’s more, the rights to the Scented Soap are still mine alone, it says.
Even providing an easy way to make money… just how kind is Count Missgancia to me…?
“In any case, we’ve risen from lower Knights to ones holding a fief. We have reason only for gratitude, not dislike.”
“I feel the same way. Besides, being able to serve Count Missgancia-sama’s most important retainer is an honor.”
Whoops… right, right. We were talking about the two Knights serving me.
According to them, their current treatment and position are apparently better than before.
So, they say there’s no problem, and they’ll follow my instructions.
Of course, I don’t know what they’re truly thinking inside… but as Knights, they should understand that they’re responsible for the words they speak.
Betrayal seems unlikely.
Incidentally…
“By the way, how many attendants do you each have?”
“”Two each,”” they replied simultaneously.
Two each, huh…
“A Shield Bearer, and one attendant,” Emilian clarified.
Let’s see… a Shield Bearer is, just as the name suggests, someone who carries a Knight’s shield on the battlefield, like a so-called page. They’re also a knight-in-training and are expected to become a Knight when they grow up.
An attendant is someone who takes care of personal needs, manages property, looks after the horses, and so on. They’re often older men.
Apparently, impressive Knights might have many attendants and even soldiers under their command.
“Emilian, is your Shield Bearer that boy I often see swinging a wooden sword in the garden?”
“Yes, that would be Rune, my Shield Bearer. And the bearded man over there is Toby, my attendant.”
The male Knight, Emilian, said.
“Mary, is your Shield Bearer that chestnut-haired boy over there?”
“Yes, his name is Quentin. My attendant… is likely in the stables around now? Her name is Corinne, a red-haired woman.”
The female Knight, Mary, replied.
I see…
“…Um, there is one thing I wished to inform you of.”
“Hmm?”
The female Knight timidly raised her hand to tell me something.
What’s wrong?
“…I believe there are four very magnificent horses in the stables… but I’m told those four won’t eat even when offered feed. Corinne was terribly worried that since they haven’t eaten for so long, they might starve if this continues.”
Ah…?
Ah!
Right, yeah, that’s right.
There are horses.
We have four Artificial Magic Beast Steeds here.
But… unless they take significant damage or get a lot of exercise, they’re built to survive without eating or drinking.
They are lifeforms—no, semi-spiritual Magic Beasts—born from such a design.
Hmmm… If I clearly said, “Those guys are Magic Beasts,” they’d probably be totally put off…
“Er… well… those guys are that kind of species… that sort of thing.”
“Is, is that so? However, for such magnificent War Beast Steeds, wouldn’t it be a loss if they grew thin?”
“Eh? Ah, it’s fine. They’re just packhorses.”
“Eh…?! W-What… That is… rather wasteful…?! Those horses, with their massive frames nearly twice the size of a normal horse, their thick sturdy legs, and the boldness to show no fear even when strangers approach… are packhorses… sir…?!”
Ah, yeah…
Well, since they’re Magic Beasts, if you sent them onto a battlefield, I bet they’d trample the rank-and-file soldiers to death and send average Knights flying to their deaths.
On top of that, even if they get holes blown through their bodies, they’ll regenerate if you let them eat the corpses lying around. If you wanted, they could run for twenty-four hours without rest, and as a bonus, they even understand language.
“O-Okay! I get it! I’ll tell them to eat their feed properly!”
“Will telling them work?!”
Nngh!