Chapter 71
“Where am I?”
Allen woke up in a bed.
(Am I inside the mansion? Hm? This isn’t a guest room, is it? Wait, what happened to me? What about Murder Garsh?)
Remembering Murder Garsh’s eerie, human-faced, doglike appearance, he hurriedly got out of bed. His memories were still jumbled.
He looked at his clothes. They weren’t his footman’s uniform. Someone had changed him into nightclothes.
“You’re awake, then?”
As Allen tried to figure out what had happened to him, the butler spoke to him.
“Good afternoon. I...?”
“How much do you remember?”
The butler judged that Allen was confused. At the question, Allen searched his memories. He’d been pursued by Murder Garsh for three days and nights, and had tried to shake it off and make his way back to town.
“I don’t remember returning to town.”
“Hmm. The guards found you collapsed at the north gate and carried you here. That was two days ago.”
“I see.”
“I’ll call the Knight Commander now. Then you’ll explain to the lord what happened with Murder Garsh. Will that be all right?”
“Y-yes.”
“Good. There’s still some time, so rest until then.”
“Thank you.”
After that, he slept for about three hours in the soft bed reserved for guests of the mansion. When he woke, there was a meal beside the bed. He’d just finished eating when the Knight Commander arrived at the mansion, and he was told to come to the conference room on the third floor.
(The conference room, huh? I’ve never been there, but I think it’s this way.)
He’d been working at the mansion for over a year, but there were still many rooms he’d never entered. In particular, he’d never set foot in the Baron’s bedroom, study, or conference room, which the Baron used often.
“Allen, are you all right?”
When he reached the third floor, he met the Knight Commander’s gaze.
“I’m fine. I’m sorry for all the trouble I caused.”
He apologized, thinking he must have caused trouble by collapsing in front of the gate.
“Well, I’m glad you’re safe. The guild branch chief is here now, so wait here for a moment.”
“Oh, I see.”
(This must be about the whole Murder Garsh mess. They mentioned an emergency request, after all. Still, it turned into quite an ordeal.)
He recalled the chase from near Granvelle’s north gate to the outskirts of town. Being pursued by Murder Garsh had taught him just how powerful B-rank monsters were.
He’d learned that, with his current strength, he could only defeat C-rank monsters. He still had a long way to go; he’d need to raise both his Level and his Summoning Level.
(Most adventurers apparently don’t have talent, either.)
He thought of the adventurers and knights who had stood by while Murder Garsh attacked the carriage.
It wasn’t that they didn’t want to help. Allen now knew firsthand that they simply couldn’t, even if they wanted to. Apparently, even knights and adventurers couldn’t stand up to B-rank monsters.
There were very few knights or adventurers with the talent and strength to fight a B-rank monster.
Raven had told him that the top adventurer in the territory capable of fighting a B-rank monster was the leader of the party known as the Silver Fangs of the Gale.
And standing beside Allen was the man stronger than the leader of the Silver Fangs of the Gale—the strongest man in the territory.
(I heard the Knight Commander is the strongest in the territory.)
Allen hadn’t seen him fight much, but he’d heard the man was unbelievably strong. Those who knew the adventurers and the Knight Commander well apparently called him War Demon Zenof.
The Knight Commander’s talent was apparently Swordmaster. Allen had never heard of that talent, but figured it was a two-star Job between the one-star Swordsman and the three-star Sword Saint.
When Murder Garsh had appeared, the Baron had tried to summon the Knight Commander before anyone else.
“Well, excuse me. Good grief...”
As Allen thought about the Knight Commander’s strength, a muscular, bald man came out of the conference room with the butler. This bald man was the Guild Branch Chief of Granvelle. Allen had served him a few times and had met him on several occasions.
The man was cursing under his breath. Allen wondered if something had happened with the emergency request as he watched, and then their eyes met.
“Good afternoon.”
“Hm? Ah, Allen.”
He seemed to know Allen. The branch chief noticed him and came over.
“Alle—”
“Do you have some business with the Granvelle family’s footman? You’re about to speak with the lord, aren’t you?”
Just as the branch chief was about to say something, the butler cut across him with a question.
“Huh? It’s nothing. Glad you’re safe.”
The branch chief patted Allen on the head, then left the mansion with the butler leading the way.
(Hm? What was that just now?)
Allen didn’t understand the exchange. It looked to him as if the butler had stopped the Adventurers Guild branch chief from talking to him for some reason.
The butler saw the branch chief to the entrance, then returned.
The butler came up to the third floor. Then he, the Knight Commander, and Allen entered the conference room. There was a timeworn round table, and the Baron told Allen to sit in the chair opposite him.
“You’re well enough to be up? I’m glad you’re safe.”
“Yes. I’m sorry for the trouble I caused you, my lord.”
“Hm? You have nothing to apologize for.”
“Yes.”
“Still, for the sake of what happens next, could you tell me what happened between you and Murder Garsh?”
Allen said he understood and told them how things had unfolded with Murder Garsh.
He explained that a carriage had been attacked, and that he’d thrown the iron balls he’d had made at the weapon shop to save the parent and child inside.
He’d managed to make Murder Garsh target him instead and draw it away from town.
The Baron listened with a grave expression. From time to time, he glanced at the Knight Commander, who nodded in response. Apparently, the Baron was checking whether what Allen described was possible.
“Murder Garsh is extremely persistent. No matter how many times I shook it off, it kept coming after me.”
“Is that why you were gone for three days? I heard that a boy dressed as a servant had been chased out of town by Murder Garsh. I thought it had eaten you by now.”
The knights and adventurers had all witnessed what happened in front of the south gate. Naturally, word had reached the Baron, too.
“Yes. I don’t know exactly how far I took it, but I think I left it quite a long way away.”
Since he couldn’t prove how far he’d led it, Allen was deliberately vague. He’d been chased all the way to the foothills of the White Dragon Mountains.
Allen had taken Murder Garsh all the way to the foothills of the White Dragon Mountains. On the way, he’d tried sending a White Deer and an Armored Ant against it, but they’d had no effect at all. He’d hoped it would settle for eating the monsters as bait, but it killed them quickly and came after Allen again.
“I see. I understand what happened. First, I want to make one thing clear: you have nothing to be blamed for in this matter, Allen. You saved our helpless subjects. You’ll also receive a reward.”
“R-really?!”
(A reward! It’s been ages since I got one!)
“Here is your reward.”
He placed two small pouches on the table in front of Allen. They clinked, and Allen’s heart raced at the thought that they might contain coins.
(Two pouches?)
Allen wondered why there were two and stared at them.
“I value your efforts in this matter at ten gold coins. Thanks to you, the emergency request was completed quickly, and I believe we were able to keep casualties among the people, adventurers, and knights to a minimum.”
There had been casualties, which was why the Baron phrased it as keeping them to a minimum.
“Yes.”
(Ten gold coins. He’s being generous.)
Allen had been at the mansion for a little over a year, and he’d realized one thing: House Granvelle was very poor—or, to put it more kindly, frugal.
They lived quite modestly. When he’d first become a footman, he’d thought the meals were better when he was still a serf.
Looking back, he suspected they’d granted Rodin, Gerda, and the others their freedom and made them commoners as a reward because they didn’t have any money. It cost nothing to make a serf a commoner.
Still, Allen didn’t think badly of House Granvelle’s frugality.
Royal envoys had visited twice over the past year. They’d come to tell the Baron to raise the poll tax further. They said there was room to increase it, though not as much as in the neighboring territory of Viscount Carnel. But the Baron refused, citing the people’s livelihoods. As a result, House Granvelle made up the difference and paid the tax to the treasury, while the Baron’s family lived with a modesty unbecoming nobles.
As Allen thought about this, the Baron continued speaking.
“And the other pouch also contains ten gold coins. That makes twenty in total, Allen. It’s from the owner of the carriage you saved. This is the second pouch.”
“The owner?”
The Baron explained who owned the carriage. Apparently, he was the manager of a high-end inn on the main street. He’d come to the mansion to thank Allen for saving his wife and daughter.
(Oh! This might be enough for a mithril sword! I can buy a weapon with this unexpected windfall!)
He’d been thinking about buying a steel sword for around five gold coins, but with the reward and the thank-you gift, he might have enough for a mithril sword.
As soon as the meeting ended, he wanted to rush to the weapon shop.
After that, they asked him about a few other details they wanted to confirm, and the meeting came to an end.