Chapter 80. Cleanup
The people who suffered the greatest losses during the Westfalen knights’ attack were the goblins.
More than four hundred and thirty died in battle.
Around fifty more were injured.
The village was devastated.
Many houses burned down.
No matter how low their intelligence was, no matter how this world classified them as monsters,
they had saved my life.
My conscience would not allow me to simply ignore their losses.
On the day the goblins held a ritual for the Forest God,
I arrived with around three hundred sheep and a line of pack donkeys.
“Arguinata, I brought supplies.”
“Hehehe. Lord of the Western Land. So you did possess a conscience.”
Arguinata was surprisingly calm.
Maybe because he was 252 years old.
Or perhaps goblins were simply accustomed to lives like this.
“If you need more sheep, request them through Bixby. I also brought gold, copper, and silver.”
“Then I can complete the ritual today. Will you stay and watch?”
“Sure.”
“Go eat over there.”
Arguinata’s hut had burned down.
So the goblins received us beneath a large tree.
Small goblins carried food.
Most of it consisted of dried meat and fruit.
It was edible enough.
I shared the meal with Martin, Raul, and the ghoul Ambrose.
“Raul, are your injuries fully healed?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Raul had spoken much less since the battle.
He had fought for his life against people far above his own level.
Perhaps being shaken was natural.
I did not yet know whether the experience would become medicine or poison for him.
Then there was Ambrose.
I decided he would usually accompany me as a bodyguard.
He had already been tall when alive.
After becoming a ghoul, he became even taller than me.
Around two meters.
We had to custom-order his robe.
Fortunately, unlike Ramita, Ambrose did not crave human flesh.
He ate practically anything we gave him.
Scratch, scratch.
“Stop scratching!”
“Forgive me, my lord.”
Ambrose constantly scratched his body.
Was it still the curse Arguinata cast?
The bastard had become a ghoul and still felt itchy.
If I found a better corpse later,
I should replace him.
“Ambrose, continue what you were saying about Noah.”
“Yes, my lord. The Young Lord and Lady Sophia’s nightly activities were like a lion...”
“Not that part. I already heard it. Tell me about his temper.”
“After Lady Sophia became pregnant, the Young Lord often became angry with officials. He also began sleeping much more during the day, perhaps because of whatever he does at night...”
The more I heard about Noah,
the stranger it seemed.
The Noah I knew cared deeply about appearances and reputation.
He was not someone who casually exploded in anger.
He disliked me.
But not enough to send assassins.
Is marriage really that dangerous? Or...
Could this be Janis Dijon’s scheme?
Arguinata happened to approach.
I asked him,
“Do you know a curse that makes someone easily angered, sleep more and more, then eventually die?”
“Elves use curses like that. Those are the ones you call black mages.”
“So it isn’t shamanism?”
“Shamanic curses are immediate and simple to understand. Like that one.”
He pointed.
Ambrose was scratching himself again.
“And black magic curses require a medium to amplify them. If the victim keeps the medium on the body, the curse becomes much stronger.”
“I see. Thanks.”
“I am about to begin the bird-eye ritual.”
The name made it sound like he was going to tear out a bird’s eyeballs.
In reality, the ritual allowed him to share the vision of a distant bird.
Arguinata lit charcoal.
He heated pieces of gold, silver, and copper on a plate.
Then he sprinkled dried herbs over them.
Thick, irritating smoke filled the air.
Emas dan perak, tembaga tahwis.
The metals suddenly melted.
They transformed into smoke.
Arguinata pulled the smoke toward his own eyes with both hands.
That looks like it hurts like hell. Is he okay?
Arguinata muttered for some time.
Then he stretched out one hand.
“A wave of green and black moves east. Beyond a great mountain lies fertile human land. That land will be soaked with blood and filled with food.”
Arguinata opened his eyes again.
“Even the bird expects a bloody war. The situation is clear.”
The bird whose vision he borrowed must have been a crow.
“Lord of the Western Land, the Green Plains Orcs have been joined by the Black Iron Orcs. If you intend to stop them, I advise against it.”
“No. I can’t stop them.”
Even if I warned the eastern Empire that orcs were coming,
would they listen?
I should at least send a letter to the Holy See of the Sun God.
Helios personally blessed me.
They would probably read a letter from me.
After that,
the eastern Empire could deal with the problem themselves.
“But what fills the land the orcs leave behind? Could that movement eventually affect this region?”
“Wherever land becomes empty, goblins are the first race to fill it. But their influence will be too weak to reach this far.”
Hearing him describe goblins as weak somehow sounded sad.
Anyway,
my business here was finished.
I stood.
I was busy.
I needed to write letters.
I also needed to meet the families of the dead soldiers.
* * *
Sir Orian Lechaux, the knight who warned Marcel about the Westfalen attackers,
eventually lost the ability to use aura.
He had risked his life and remained loyal.
So I appointed him an Honorary Knight.
I also made his manor hereditary.
When I visited him during recovery, he suddenly said,
“I apologize for disappointing your expectations, my lord.”
“What expectations?”
“You told me to pass my family technique to the next generation.”
“Ah.”
I already copied it.
What should I say?
“I learned it.”
“What? But I never taught you.”
“I watched you and figured it out.”
“You sto... learned it.”
Even now, I felt guilty.
A family knight technique involved honor.
I could not simply ignore it.
“If there is anything else you need, tell me.”
“I would like a larger manor.”
“I’ll arrange it immediately. Anything else?”
“I would also like help finding a wife.”
“...That one is difficult.”
“You sto...”
“I will do my absolute best!”
