Translator: Cinder Translations
...
Due to the war, business at the Frog's Croak Tavern was rather slow.
Only a handful of customers were drinking there today, and young people were especially rare. After all, with a certain special guest present, coming here would be no different from walking into a lion's den.
That "special guest" was Nielson. As a subordinate of Duke Giles, he had recently been assigned an important task—recruiting soldiers. Given the heavy losses in recent battles, his job had become even more crucial.
However, his purpose in coming to Frog's Croak Town wasn't to recruit from its residents. The blood tax from several southern lords was due to arrive, and Nielson was here to receive the new conscripts. That said, if he happened to find some strong young men along the way, he wouldn't mind adding them to his ranks as well.
Nielson was not the type to let work get in the way of his pleasures. Early in the morning, he kicked open the tavern door and ordered the owner to bring him a large glass of every type of alcohol they had. Since he had to wait anyway, why not enjoy some fine drinks while he was at it? Besides, given the long journey, it wouldn't be surprising if the new recruits were delayed by a day or two.
He ordered his attendant to keep watch at the door while he indulged himself, drinking until he was completely wasted.
"B-Boss… another… another five glasses of th-this…" Nielson's trembling finger pointed at the third glass in front of him as he slurred his words.
The tavern owner cautiously asked, "Five glasses of Dragon's Flame?"
"Yes, y-yeah… hic! Five glasses of Dragon's Flame!"
BANG!
Just as he was about to start his second round, a loud noise erupted. His attendant rushed inside, face full of panic.
"Lord Nielson! A military force has entered the town! But… something about them seems strange."
"Huh? A military force?" Nielson, still dazed from the alcohol, hiccupped. "Ohhh, right, the new blood from the duke has arrived. What's so strange about that?"
Remembering his duty, he waved at the tavern owner. "I've got work to do. Don't clear my table—I'll be back to continue drinking later."
It wouldn't take long—just check which territory they came from, count their numbers, and assign them a place to rest.
His attendant, however, was on the verge of panic. "Milord, they don't look like our people."
Indeed, previous groups sent by vassal lords were a disorganized mess. Their equipment and clothing were all over the place, and many carried farming tools like pitchforks and hoes. They always arrived in noisy, disorderly groups.
But this new force—his attendant had never seen soldiers dressed so uniformly, marching in such perfect formation. Having worked under Nielson handling military supplies, the attendant had never personally witnessed the kingdom's army in action.
Nielson shoved him aside impatiently. "You ignorant fool. If they're not ours, do you think they're the enemy? Eagle's Beak Pass hasn't fallen yet—how could the enemy possibly be behind our lines? Be careful what you say, or the duke will have you executed."
He put on his hat and rubbed his blurry, drunken eyes, trying to refocus his vision. Putting on an authoritative expression, he swaggered outside.
Sure enough, a military unit was marching into the center of town.
---
Ed Chambers, commander of the Royal Infantry Regiment Second Battalion, walked alongside his troops. While crossing the treacherous terrain of Devil's Belly, they had lost all their horses, forcing both officers and soldiers to march on foot.
An unexpected scene played out before him—while the townspeople scattered in fear at their arrival, one man stumbled out of the tavern and wobbled toward them.
The man was short and fat, clad in light armor. His legs seemed barely able to support his weight, making him sway like a rolling ball as he walked.
Even from several meters away, Chambers could smell the strong stench of alcohol drifting in the wind. Clearly, he had encountered a drunkard.
"Hic!" Nielson barely maintained his authoritative posture before slipping back into a drunken stupor. He slurred, "Who's in charge here?"
Silence.
"I said, who's in charge here?" he asked again.
Again, no one answered.
Nielson grew irritated. Puffing out his chest, he bellowed, "How rude! I am Nielson, the recruitment officer assigned by Duke Giles! You fresh recruits must listen to me! Answer my question at once!"
Oh, so he's one of Giles' men.
Chambers remained expressionless. He gave a simple command—"Seize him."
Two soldiers stepped forward, grabbed Nielson by his thick arms, and slammed him onto the ground.
"Ow! You bastards, are you trying to rebel?!" Still too drunk to comprehend the situation, Nielson's face turned red with rage. "Which lord sent you? I'll report your treason to the duke!"
His attendant, however, had finally realized what was happening. But it was too late to run—he was captured without resistance.
"The traitors are you lot!" Chambers stepped forward and slapped Nielson across the face—twice. "Listen well. We are the Second Battalion of the Royal Infantry Regiment! We are here to crush you rebels!"
"Royal… You're with the royal family?" The shock sobered Nielson up instantly. "That's impossible! Does that mean… Eagle's Beak Pass has fallen?"
In his mind, there was no way a properly organized army could have crossed the treacherous mountain paths behind Eagle's Beak Pass.
"That's none of your concern. You're going to rot in a cell for now."
---
Nielson and his attendant weren't the only prisoners. A squad of fifty rebel soldiers stationed in the town had also been captured. These men had grown complacent, spending their days drinking and gambling at the outpost. When the royal army surrounded them, they were too relaxed to even have a lookout at the road.
Chambers couldn't help but feel puzzled. In past battles, he had seen Duke Giles' forces display fierce bravery—especially the infamous Undying Legion, who were notoriously difficult to deal with. Yet, the second-line troops here were nothing more than undisciplined drunks.
Was this really the same army that had held off the royal forces in the last war?
Born into a noble family from Crystal Glare, Chambers had received proper knightly and military education. He had fought for the kingdom many times—such as assisting Harrison in eliminating Westport's pirates—but he had always been a summoned knight. He would bring his retainers when called upon, then return home after the battle.
Before now, he had never commanded an army, nor had he spent much time among common soldiers.
When Rodney XVIII restructured the military, young noble officers like Chambers—who had proper military training but little exposure to the old army's bad habits—were given key positions. The discipline and organization of the Western Bay Military deeply resonated with him.
A real army should be like this.
However, it was only after marching south to suppress Giles' rebellion that he had truly "opened his eyes."
Duke Giles' elite troops were somewhat competent, but the regional lords' forces? They could hardly be called an army at all.
(End of the Chapter)
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