After spending the night in Layer, we set out for Offenburg with Tobias seeing us off. The weather was gorgeous. Offenburg, set a little ways from the Main River, was a fairly large city.

Across the Main River was Strasbourg, one of the top five Free Imperial Cities by size. It was practically a city-state, so comparisons were absurd.

When we drew near Offenburg, a familiar face came out to meet us.

"Welcome to Offenburg, Lord of Feuzen."

The Offenburg Knights commander, leading a small contingent, came to receive us. The reason he stood out in my memory was his rare disposition of justice (good). His name was Benjamin.

"The marquis usually doesn’t welcome urgent visits like this, but since you’ve come as an envoy bearing the answer he’s been waiting for, I was ordered to extend you every courtesy."

"I was already shown plenty of hospitality by the Layer lord, so I’m fine."

"Ha ha ha. Lord Tobias does love to give."

Even if he is a bit hot-blooded.

Benjamin tacked on the joke and led us toward the castle of the Northern Lion, crouching in the distance. Outside the city, a welcoming display of spears and swords was waiting for us.

Roaaar!

Offen! Offen!

The way the infantry, in tight formation, advanced while holding their lines made them look like a single massive creature in motion. Infantry that could maintain formation that precisely was rare.

I’d watched the ducal army drill so many times I had a decent eye for this stuff now.

Fiel and Viktor were paying closer attention to the Offenburg cavalry.

"They’re the proud strong soldiers of this land."

I offered a silent prayer for the troops who had been ground through the parade ground to put on this display. The soldiers mobilized to greet an envoy who’d shown up out of nowhere were definitely cursing my name right now.

The same way a sleeping soldier feels when a division commander drops by.

I didn’t even need to see it. Benjamin spoke proudly.

"They’re the reason the mountain bandits keep getting knocked back."

"The infantry’s tight formation is certainly impressive."

"The mountain bandits live in the mountains, but their cavalry is surprisingly strong. Maintaining a tight formation is essential to stop their breakthroughs. They recently got their hands on something called cannon, but it won’t matter."

The day those cannons turn into formation-shredders is coming.

You really can’t grasp that unless you’ve experienced it.

Unlike France or England, which had felt the full force of cannon fire, German lands hadn’t yet experienced what cannons could really do. Württemberg acquiring cannons was going to be a bigger threat than people thought.

Breisburg had artillery too, but it was a unit attached directly to the royal house, used for defense, so it rarely appeared on the battlefield. I wanted to introduce cannons as well as firearms, but they were money-eating monsters.

It was nice to think about weapons development, but it wasn’t going to happen for free. Everything cost money, and what kind of money did a village lord like me have? It would be like throwing coin into a bottomless pit.

In any case, after watching the showpiece military parade, we were finally able to enter the city. The atmosphere was similar to Breisburg, but the people themselves seemed to have a hardier character.

What stood out most was the marquis’s palace, as large as Breisburg’s royal castle. It really put his power on display. Was he possibly a more dangerous prince than even Duke Radensdorf?

Ba-da-bam!

The moment we stepped into the audience hall, trumpets blared, and we became the focus of countless Offenburg nobles’ gazes. Even with Viktor and Fiel beside me, there was no helping being momentarily pushed back by their collective presence.

The way they were studying me like an appraiser brought up a wave of irritation.

What is this? Do I need to walk through here radiating some kind of conqueror’s aura?

Marquis Offenburg, lounging arrogantly in his chair, exuded the kind of authority you’d expect from the great prince who ruled the north. I could practically feel a tingle from the pressure, and I had to make a conscious effort to stay sharp.

"I am Wolfgang Ritter von Streit. Head of the ducal knight Streit family, Lord of Feuzen, Commander of the Gale Knights, and honored Tournament Champion Knight."

"Hmm. So you’re the Lord of Feuzen I’ve been hearing rumors about."

It had been a long time since I’d been on the receiving end of a gaze that appraised me like merchandise.

In Breisburg no one looked at me that way anymore.

"This is His Grace’s personal letter to you, my lord."

The chamberlain who had been waiting in attendance took the letter I offered and delivered it to the marquis. The marquis broke the seal and unfolded the scroll. The letter was on parchment. After reading for some time, he suddenly burst into wild laughter.

Ha ha ha ha!

His voice was so powerful it made the wide audience hall ring.

Handing the letter to the chamberlain, the marquis turned his sharp gaze back on me.

He was clearly studying me.

"Aren’t you curious what’s in the letter?"

True to his lord (neutral) disposition, he was clearly used to testing people. I’d actually been guessing at what might be in the letter myself, and my best guess was that it was a request for support of the royal family.

If it weren’t that, he wouldn’t have sent me all the way to Offenburg. And the marquis would almost certainly give me a token signifying a firm alliance. They had a secret arrangement in place, but they needed confirmation.

When I laid out my analysis to the marquis, the heavy pressure on his face vanished entirely, replaced by an unmistakable glint of mischief. By my own sharp read: looks like I’d just walked into something.

"We cannot fail to throw a grand welcome for a guest who has come to the land governed by House Rudelich. But you’ll rest from your journey today. The banquet will be held tomorrow."

A banquet? Right now of all times?

But challenging the marquis here wouldn’t be wise. Benjamin had specifically warned me not to oppose the marquis no matter what.

Did he hate honest counsel? That was my first thought, but it was because I was here as a royal envoy. The marquis who ruled Offenburg had many vassals.

That was why he needed to show them he held himself above the royal family. Count Euz had also been watching for his vassals’ reactions, and it was the same here.

Having vassals was supposed to be the measure of a prince, but if it meant constantly having to read your vassals’ moods, I figured it would be better to not have vassals and just send out managers to govern your estates. I had the scouter anyway.

I could understand why generations of European kings had been so desperate for centralization. France actually was showing signs of centralizing now that the noble class had been largely shattered by the Hundred Years’ War.

"Looks like I’m stuck here for two days."

"How about taking in the sights of Offenburg in the meantime?"

Fiel seemed eager to tour this northern metropolis that could stand alongside Breisburg. Since we had nothing else to do, I asked Benjamin to arrange a guide for us.

I was almost wondering if this was really how I should be spending my time, but then a merchant approached me. Thinking it was just a tout, my knights moved to block him, but the merchant’s face looked oddly familiar to me.

"My Lord Streit! I’m the merchant you helped at Euz!"

"Ah. The head of the caravan from Strasbourg?"

"That’s right! I never imagined I’d see you here!"

I hadn’t expected to see the merchant I’d rescued back then here either.

The merchant’s name was Wenzenberg.

"There’s been talk that a royal envoy arrived. Are you the envoy, my lord?"

"Hard to deny when me being here is the evidence."

"Ha ha. Of course."

My eye caught the old man standing beside him, apparently a subordinate. He was neatly dressed and looked like an ordinary old man, but my gaze kept being drawn to him for some reason. Sensing my attention, Wenzenberg introduced him.

"This is an old man named Gens. He’s from the mint, so his craftsmanship is exceptional. That’s why I keep him on. His metalwork is truly first-rate."

"His name is Gens?"

The scouter showed his name as Johannes Gensfleisch.

It looked like the old man was using the front of his surname as an alias.

Uncomfortable under my gaze, the old man bowed his head lower, hiding his face.

"If you ever come near Feuzen, drop by. Merchants are always welcome."

"Ha, I’ll be sure to visit!"

Wenzenberg gathered the old man and left.

But that old man didn’t strike me as an ordinary person at all.