Chapter 42: Chapter 42: The Chunibyo Youth

At that moment in O’Neil Castle. As the largest fortress on the Siriel Defense Line, it controlled both the main crossing on the Somme River and blocked the primary pass against the Beastmen’s southern advance.

Naturally, it had also become the headquarters for the Western Front.

"Allow me to make the introductions. These gentlemen are Marquis Brant and Prince Noah, who have come from the Royal Capital. His Highness the Prince is here mainly to take over Earl Nolan’s logistical duties.

Marquis Brant will remain with the army as the King’s imperial envoy," Marquis Oscillate explained.

Earl Nolan was a typical Northern Noble, and as part of a previous political deal, he had already been reassigned to the central front.

After a round of applause, Marquis Brant rose with a smile. He offered a few pleasantries before getting to the matter everyone truly cared about: military funding.

"His Majesty has long heard of the hard-fought battles of the soldiers on the Western Front. He has therefore sent His Highness the Prince with three million Gold Coins to help our forces here build an even more courageous army.

All related matters will be impartially decided by His Highness the Prince," Marquis Brant said.

When he finished, Prince Noah stood up and smiled at everyone present.

As Prince Noah spoke, Marquis Oscillate’s expression clearly soured.

Anyone with eyes could see that Prince Noah had come to cultivate his own faction within the army, preparing for a future transfer of power. This would naturally infringe upon the Marquis’s interests.

Of course, this was tolerable. After all, his military authority was only truly relevant while the Beastmen were a threat, and the Marquis had no intention of opposing the royal family.

But the real trouble was that there was also an imperial envoy in this delegation—and as fate would have it, this imperial envoy was also a marquis.

’Investigate? What is there to investigate? I, Marquis Oscillate, am completely aboveboard! My subordinates are all loyal and upstanding. What is there to look into?’

’If they really did find something, wouldn’t that just prove that I, Oscillate, am lax in governing my subordinates?’

Though he was displeased, the Marquis could only swallow his anger.

’For the foreseeable future, Noah will play the good cop while Marquis Brant plays the bad cop, and there’s nothing I can do about it.’

’Marquis Brant’s presence is most likely just a warning for me not to overstep. They wouldn’t dare to truly offend me.’

...

It was now Robson’s second day at Mold Fortress, and the military camp had returned to its old routine.

They began drilling the troops at dawn, grinding for experience.

It had to be said, the resources provided by Count Valentino were abundant. If nothing else, at least rations were fully distributed according to a three-meals-a-day standard.

Robson had originally thought that if food ran short, he would have to sell off some of the supplies he had brought from Sunset Fortress. Now, it seemed he could save them.

Viscount Fuman had always been in charge of logistics, and Robson himself would occasionally check on things. There were no problems with their inventory.

The only change, perhaps, was the addition of a cavalry troop to the army.

"Sir, there’s a man outside who claims to be Viscount Luke. He’s asking for you," a messenger reported.

Hearing this, Robson stopped his training. ’It seems the scion from the Gutierrez Family has arrived.’

’Since I took their money, I have to do the job.’

’You can’t get by in the world of nobles by taking money and not delivering.’

"Bo Yang, with me," Robson ordered.

’Since he’s one of those arrogant noble brats, I’ll need to knock him down a peg before he enlists. Otherwise, if he starts running wild in the camp, I, Lord Robson, don’t have the time to clean up his messes.’

Arriving at the entrance to his tent, Robson saw that Viscount Luke was indeed there, accompanied by a rather short youth in full armor who had remarkably long arms.

The youth looked around curiously, his mind already filled with endless fantasies about his future life in the camp.

"Viscount, why didn’t you send word ahead? My apologies for the poor welcome," Robson said with a smile.

"I’m just here to complete the formality. How could I presume to disturb you, Sir?" Viscount Luke replied.

"This must be the young prodigy you mentioned? He certainly looks the part," Robson said flatteringly.

"Not at all, not at all," Viscount Luke demurred. "Claude, come and meet your future commander."

The youth called Claude stepped forward. Noticing the rather large height difference between himself and Robson, he tilted his head back and looked up at Robson with a face full of confidence.

"So you’re Robson? Sir, accept the fealty of Claude Benjamin. You need only entrust your cavalry to my command, and in less than ten years, you will be grateful for your decision," Claude said, puffing out his chest.

Robson cringed internally. The kid was laying it on way too thick.

Beside them, Viscount Luke also looked rather embarrassed.

’Wait... Benjamin?’ Robson’s mind suddenly clicked.

"Isn’t this boy a member of your family?" Robson asked Luke curiously.

"Well... actually, Claude is the only son of a friend of mine, but... his family went through some unfortunate events.

So, he may need your support in the future, Sir..." Luke trailed off, hesitating.

Robson understood. ’It’s probably just another one of those messy noble family affairs. Looks like a poor kid who’s been cast out.’

"Viscount, that is not what you told me before," Robson said with a frown.

What Viscount Luke had done was indeed a bit underhanded.

If Claude had no family ties, then according to the customs of the nobility, the first person a young noble pledged fealty to would become their future Monarch.

Perhaps "Monarch" wasn’t the right word, but it conveyed the general meaning.

In other words, Robson would not only have to teach Claude skills, but also provide him with resources in the future to help him grow and develop.

The price he would have to pay was completely different now.

"Well... sigh. It’s mainly because there are no spare positions within the family. Rest assured, Sir, I am willing to personally cover all the resources Claude needs until he reaches the Silver rank," Viscount Luke said.

The Gutierrez family was spread throughout the kingdom, and internally, every position was spoken for. There weren’t even enough spots for their own family members, so how could they possibly give one to an outsider?

Viscount Luke didn’t want his friend’s heir to live such an ordinary life, so after much thought, he decided to send Claude to Robson to earn some military achievements.

Judging by Robson’s current capabilities, he would be at least a Baron by the end of the war. At that time, Claude could also obtain the rank of a Knight, and it wouldn’t be said that Luke had failed his friend.

"In that case, it would be ungracious of me to refuse," Robson said with a smile.

’What Viscount Luke is doing is basically giving me a future Silver-rank subordinate for free. In that case, I can accept it.’

The men didn’t talk for long. Viscount Luke himself was serving on the defense line and naturally didn’t have much free time.

With the Northern Nobles beginning to withdraw from the Western Front, many positions had opened up, and Luke was also hoping to cash in.

"Claude, this is the liege you will pledge your future fealty to. You cannot behave as you normally would here. I must go now, but I will come to see you in the future," Viscount Luke said sternly.

"Understood, Uncle," Claude said, puffing out his chest.

"In that case, I’ll take my leave. Sir, I’ve heard from those higher up that the Beastmen’s movements could be very swift. I hope you stay safe," said Viscount Luke.

"You as well, my lord," Robson said.

With that, Viscount Luke mounted his horse and, along with his Clan Knights, quickly departed the camp.

Robson turned his head to find Claude still staring blankly in the direction Viscount Luke had gone.

’He really is just a child,’ Robson mused. ’In this world, a boy who is only sixteen or seventeen has to go to war.’

"Alright, Sir—or my lord? I want to see my cavalry unit!" Claude announced, taking a deep breath.

DING! [Claude Benjamin has joined your party.]

The notification sound had come from the campaign panel. Robson opened it.