SML Ch 9

Chapter 9

“What? Wait—did you just say that the lord himself will be going?”

“Well, so what? The more people out gathering herbs, the better.”

“B-but… it’s still dangerous for you to go, my lord.”

Heide gaped at him, but Reynald himself didn’t seem the least bit concerned. From the start, Reynald had never been fond of the desk-bound lifestyle. Rather than strutting about the castle as some puffed-up lord, he much preferred roaming the outdoors under the pretense of herb gathering or monster hunting. Even during his days as the commander of the knight order, he had detested paperwork enough to weasel his way into every subjugation squad that went out—being lord now wasn’t going to change that.

“Better to be outside doing something than sitting around bonding with the fief’s people and accidentally growing fond of them,” he thought.

Not once did it cross Reynald’s mind that he might grow fond of the guards, either. Feeling rather pleased with his own decision, he stood firm. Heide seemed uneasy and tried half-heartedly to dissuade him, but it was a lost cause—especially with Volant chiming in beside them.

“Oh, come on! Honestly, I feel like the lord’s stronger than the rest of us combined.”

“That’s not the point, you little brat! You’re so immature sometimes, I swear—”

Volant yelped as Heide smacked him across the back, but in the end, he couldn’t stop Reynald. When the lord himself insisted on going, what was the steward supposed to do?

With a heavy sigh, Heide disappeared for a while and returned not long after carrying a bundle of food big enough to feed six men. Reynald gave his thanks for the man’s diligence and set out with the guards.

Once they stepped outside the castle, the weather greeted them with open arms. Though it was winter and a bit chilly, the sun was shining bright enough to make it bearable. The six men, dressed in simple gear, walked across the wasteland as if they were heading out for a picnic. The barren land didn’t lend much of a picnic vibe, but the guards seemed genuinely excited nonetheless.

Reynald quite liked this sort of atmosphere. It reminded him of the days when he’d just left the capital at the start of a monster suppression campaign. Watching the young men enjoy the fresh air and get fired up for the adventure ahead made even Reynald feel younger. Actually—

“No, not just younger—more like actually youthful.”

These boys seemed more interested in anything but herbs. Reynald tilted his head in confusion as he watched the guards enthusiastically digging around a rabbit burrow. They kept wandering off on strange paths, despite claiming they were guiding him to where the herbs grew.

A few hours ago, they had eagerly begun digging under a rock, so Reynald had gone over to watch. It was a plant he’d never seen before, so he asked, “Is that a local herb unique to this region?” The guards had responded that it wasn’t an herb at all but a sweet-tasting plant. It had a slightly bitter aftertaste, but made for a decent snack.

Watching them chew clumps of dirt-covered greens while wandering around had seemed quite ridiculous at first. Still, if they were taking lighthearted detours while on a serious errand, it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

The real problem was that it had happened seven times already. They hadn’t found a single herb yet, and Volant’s bag was already completely stuffed.

The rabbit currently in their hands would probably end up in Lyndon’s pack. For the record, Lyndon was one of the guards who had taken a beating from Reynald the previous day alongside Volant. He’d been the one to ask if Reynald had knocked something loose in his head and received the first hit for it.

“Honestly, they’re like a bunch of overgrown kids.”

That made Reynald wonder—how old were they really? They looked so innocent despite their grown appearances. He casually threw the question at Lyndon, who was currently dancing around joyfully with the captured rabbit. The young man tilted his head, puzzled by the sudden question, but answered without hesitation.

“Me? I’m twenty-four.”

“You look much younger than that. I thought you were the youngest among the guards.”

“Oh, no, the youngest among us is Volant. That guy’s only nineteen.”

Wait, what? Reynald rubbed his ear like he’d just misheard something completely absurd. Out of all the things he’d heard since arriving at this fief, that was probably the most shocking. Nineteen? That big guy? He was barely even a legal adult?

While Reynald stood there stunned, the other guards—now carrying baby rabbits—gathered around and suddenly started unpacking the food bundles. For a moment, Reynald worried they were planning to cook the poor things, but thankfully the guards weren’t quite so barbaric.

Instead, they shared some of the sweet herbs with the rabbits, seemingly planning to raise them—likely not as pets, but as livestock.

They spread out for lunch, and the guards began chiming in on Reynald and Lyndon’s conversation. Thanks to that, Reynald was able to casually gather information about the guards’ ages.

From what he gathered, most of the current guards were in their late teens to mid-twenties. Actually, it seemed all youths in that age range were required to join the local guard. Given the scarce population and high monster threat in the area, there wasn’t really a choice.

“Come to think of it, how old is Heide?”

“Mr. Heide? He’s thirty-six.”

“Hm, so he does look his age. What about that injured young man from earlier?”

“You mean Alex? He’s the same age as Volant.”

“…Alex is the same age as Volant?”

“Yes. Why do you look so surprised?”

Reynald was utterly speechless. He’d assumed Alex was at least in his mid-twenties. Didn’t they say he came to the village ten years ago? That means he arrived alone, without family, when he was only nine years old? And that face—at nineteen?

Reynald took a moment to seriously reflect. Clearly, the people in this region had lived hard lives. Their faces had aged prematurely from hardship. He conveniently forgot how much older Lyndon actually was, too shocked by Volant and Alex’s real ages.

“I’m just surprised, that’s all. I didn’t expect you all to be so young.”

“Really? Then how old are you, my lord? Fifty? Sixty?”

“…Forty-seven.”

“Wow, really? My lord, you look so—uh… oww! Ow ow ow!”

Volant earned another smack, and Reynald was left to wonder if he really looked that old.

Physically speaking, he could still hold his own against men in their thirties. Sure, his voice had gotten a bit rough, but that was from shouting orders for years. And the gray hairs? That was just stress from doing paperwork he wasn’t suited for—not age.

“Ahem. I, uh, had a rough youth.”

“R-right… of course.”

The young men nodded and smiled awkwardly. Reynald turned away with a bitter twist of his lips. He had been told he was quite handsome in his youth. It wasn’t like he was unpopular or anything. So how had he ended up here, alone and being mistaken for some decrepit old man?

“This is all His Majesty’s fault for working me to the bone.”

Wasting his youth on endless work had left him with a miserable excuse for old age. Reynald let out a deep sigh and silently chewed his food. Now that it had come to this, he swore to himself he wouldn’t even glance toward the capital until the king’s guts were eaten through with worry. No matter how barren this land was, he could stick it out for a few months.

“By the way, how much farther until we reach the herbs?”

“The herbs? Not far now. If we head down that slope, we’ll be at the patch.”

“Not that it matters now, my lord. We can’t pick the herbs until nightfall anyway. That’s why Mr. Heide packed so much food for us.”

The young men spoke casually, as though this was completely normal. But to Reynald, it was bizarre. Why wait until night? Isn’t it more dangerous then, when monsters come out? Frowning, he walked up to the slope and looked down—and froze at the sight below.

“You’re telling me you want to use mandrake as a medicinal herb?!”

“Yes, sir. If we grind it up and apply it, wounds heal really fast. But we can’t pull it up during the day. If we do, the herb starts glowing like crazy.”

Well, that much even Reynald knew—you never pull a mandrake before sundown. If you do, its scream will burst eardrums and kill everyone nearby. Maybe that’s why the boys had been stalling and fooling around so much on the way here.

Still, that wasn’t what left Reynald dumbfounded.

The real issue was that mandrakes weren’t the kind of herbs you just casually ground up and slapped on a wound. A single mandrake, once refined through magic, could produce roughly twenty potions. And each of those potions was so valuable, an average soldier couldn’t afford one with a month’s pay.