Chapter 95: Heading Out

Whether Leo’s warning managed to sink in with the werewolves was another matter entirely.

But he had no other choice. Fisa was so giddy she seemed like a child who had just been handed a magnificent new toy, and reason had long since deserted her.

Even the saltpeter trade she had been pestering him about had been shoved clear out of her mind.

Leo could only pray that Fisa did not manage to play herself to death.

When he returned to the lord’s manor, Leo reported the discovery of the saltpeter mine to Ulyan.

Ulyan had no interest in saltpeter, gypsum, or the like, since he had no idea what they were for. He was, however, delighted to hear that rock salt was also found there.

With his back to Leo, he made marks on the map he had drawn himself while speaking to him.

Dressed in a casual shirt and holding a goose-feather pen, bent over the parchment as he wrote and sketched, Ulyan somehow took on a faint air of refinement.

Anyone who did not know him and walked in would have taken him for some great poet or scholar.

The frontier knight born to peasant stock had, at last, begun to look a little like a lord.

Leo, meanwhile, was darting his eyes everywhere, looking for any interesting new trinket he might be able to quietly pocket.

“If Fisa says it’s hers, then give it to her. It still has to be dug up by the kobolds anyway. Kobolds are so naive—do they think ownership is decided by what comes out of someone’s mouth?”

At that, Leo smiled knowingly.

If Riverbend’s appetite were any uglier, then forget iron mines and saltpeter mines; by now Kobold Valley could already have been renamed Slave Valley.

Who owned property depended on who had the stronger fist.

Out in the wilds, where law and morality had no hold, that principle could be stretched even further.

At first, Leo had implemented a policy of pacification toward the kobolds because he wanted to preserve strength and reduce casualties. He had not actually thought very far ahead.

But now Riverbend had grown stronger, and the two sides had also grown familiar with each other. Those kobolds were gradually evolving in the direction of house dogs.

At that point, they could not be killed casually. Who would ever kill their own dog for no reason?

Besides, the little things were still working themselves to the bone in the mines.

Ulyan was quite fond of these kobolds as well: not very intelligent, not demanding, obedient beyond all expectation. Whenever he was lecturing disobedient villagers, he often said they were less obedient than kobolds.

To put it in his own words, they had a little less human thinking and a little more dog thinking. Work more, eat more, compare themselves less, quarrel less, and everything would be harmonious.

“As for that saltpeter and gypsum of yours, stop fussing over them. What matters is getting more rock salt! After spring sowing ends, we’ll organize a few hunts and stock up on meat.”

“Oh.” Leo answered lazily.

“You take it easy these next couple of days. Don’t get hurt, don’t get disfigured, and don’t die out there. In a few days, you’re coming with me to Isenport for a banquet.”

“A banquet?” Leo perked up at once and leaned in eagerly.

“Old Rigolav is holding a dinner at his manor and invited me.”

Leo asked happily, “Can I bring Little Mouse?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll bring Olivia.”

“Absolutely not!” Ulyan snapped, raising his hand as if to swat him. “Do you think this is a trip for fun? This is noble society. It matters!”

“Bring Olivia, of all ideas. I should have my own daughter with me, don’t I? How many promising young men in Isenport don’t know I have an unmarried daughter?”

When Ulyan regarded Leo as a nephew, everything about him seemed agreeable. When he regarded Leo as a son-in-law, however, everything became infuriating.

Two days later, Ulyan set out for Isenport with Leo and Ivan, each on horseback, bringing gifts with them.

Before leaving, Ulyan summoned several of the local leaders and gave detailed instructions on every last matter, yet he still could not quite put his mind at ease. He felt as though something was missing.

Leo also called in the militia men Vechi and Little Noyes, warning them carefully and at length, afraid that something might go wrong in Riverbend while he was away.

Once they had left Riverbend, Ulyan and Leo exchanged a glance and immediately understood each other.

In the past, whenever Leo traveled, Ulyan would be keeping watch in Riverbend; whenever Ulyan traveled, Leo would not go wandering off.

They had never discussed it in advance, but that had always been the way of things.

Only when they finally went out together did they suddenly realize this pattern, and that was why neither of them could truly rest easy.

Riverbend’s leaders included quite a few capable men, able to stand on their own, but none could manage the whole picture.

Even Olivia, when confronted with conflicts that were hard to resolve, could not help becoming indecisive. If small problems were not dealt with promptly, they would grow into large ones.

There was no third person who could, like Ulyan or Leo, decide every matter in a single sentence and, even if the outcome was not elegant, suppress everything through sheer force of arms.

So the only one who could make Leo leave the house with peace of mind was Ulyan, that sly warlord and de facto lord.

And no matter how much Ulyan mocked or lectured Leo, in his subconscious mind there was still only one person who could properly protect Riverbend for him: Leo.

After the road between Riverbend and the West Watchtower had been cleared by repairs and by several rounds of merchant traffic, the route had become very smooth. At the larger stream crossings, sturdy wooden bridges had even been built, wide enough for two carriages to pass side by side.

Riding at an easy trot through the quiet woods, with wildflowers blooming everywhere in the early spring and bright birdsong stirring the still water of the river, the journey had a certain elegant serenity to it.

The three men and three horses moved along at a brisk pace. They passed the West Watchtower and even paid a visit to Knight Noyes, who was stationed there.

When they reached the West Watchtower, they were at the junction of Worldtree Road and the Anzeno River, where a small mountain pass lay before them.

The hills on either side of the pass were less than thirty meters high, and the West Watchtower was built on the river side.

Its layout was much the same as the ogres’ abandoned blockhouses: a large watchtower accompanied by several stone barracks half-buried into the mountainside.

This was the far western edge of the County of Frelov, garrisoned by fifteen cavalrymen and fifty regular infantry, with Knight Noyes as their commander.

That was already a considerable force in the wilds, enough to deter small bands of horse thieves and bandits.

Of course, the northern count’s lands were vast and still waiting to be developed. Once settlements appeared beyond the West Watchtower, this would no longer be the far west.

Ever since Romon’s father had sent word, Ulyan had struck while the iron was hot and personally visited Knight Noyes at the West Watchtower twice.

After all, the watchtower’s location was too special; it was practically serving as the gate to Riverbend.

If the relationship was managed well, they would gain a guardian deity at the door. If it was not managed well, even coming and going in the future would become difficult.

This knight, who shared a name with the captain of Riverbend’s militia youth squad and was Romon’s distant brother-in-law, treated Ulyan with cool politeness, neither warm nor cold, but always proper.

Ulyan actually liked such people. Grave, rigid, and rule-bound: if nothing was happening, they ignored you; if something was happening, they really did step in.

Knight Noyes, neither warm nor cold, met Ulyan outside the West Watchtower’s barracks in full armor. They exchanged a few light words, not even finishing a cup of tea before he sent them on their way.

Ulyan did not mind in the slightest. He presented the deer he had brought and a pound of rock salt, then continued on toward Isenport.

By late afternoon, the three finally arrived in Isenport.

Leo looked at the crowds moving through the city with keen interest. “Why not find an inn and stay there? I’ve never stayed in one in my life!”

“You paying?” Ulyan said sourly. “We’re going straight to the Petukhov house and taking the best guest room they have. I’ll let you see what real connections look like.”