The Founding Monarch Became the Mastermind

Chapter 121

The humans of this world were simple.

Should I say they were a bit irrational?

They easily believed in ridiculous rumors, fell for cults, and if everyone else suddenly started saying “A = B,” they would go, “Is that so?” and just believe it.

But when I think about it, the 21st-century Earth where Si-on originally lived wasn’t that different.

People who had received much more specialized and advanced compulsory education than the nobles of this world fell into cults, believed in pseudoscience, and trusted unverified academic credentials and connections, blindly believing con artists to be experts.

So, it was clear.

Even if they were nobles, they had no compulsory education, and the only schooling they received was at the capital’s academy around the age of 15 (that too, only if their family was wealthy enough).

The level of humans in this world was quite predictable.

Because of that.

Even the nobles of the northeastern territories, who hadn’t received proper higher education and were now facing what could be called the worst crisis, didn’t think it strange.

The nobles of the northeastern territories, who had heard the rumors through the Information Guild that the capital and Duke Lloyd vouched for ‘Lord Salen,’ who had exterminated monsters on a massive scale in the Si-on Duchy, trusted him unconditionally.

They believed without a doubt that only he could save them from the ongoing monster catastrophe.

As a result, it was no surprise that more than ten lords from the northeastern territories hastily sent their messengers and representatives to Logos Territory, where Lord Salen was staying.

* * *

“What? He went to Burgos?”

“No, no way!”

The messengers from the northeastern territories despaired.

Even now, the faces of their lords, nearly driven mad by the influx of refugees into their cities, the exorbitant war expenses spent on hiring hundreds of mercenaries, and the dwindling food supplies, flashed before their eyes.

Of course, their territories wouldn’t collapse immediately.

But if things continued like this for three or four more months, the lords who sent them here — and they themselves — would surely be ruined.

“Why did he go to Burgos?”

“Well, because he’s been appointed interim governor of Burgos, right? A governor has to go to their post, doesn’t he?”

The one who had asked the stupid question, unable to contain their urgency, was met with sharp glares from the other messengers.

“Then if we go to Burgos now, we can meet Lord Salen, right?”

“Well, I believe Lord Salen should have arrived in Burgos by now, but I can’t say for sure if you’ll be able to meet him.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because the monsters are also surging in the Wastelands of the Dragon. As the interim governor of Burgos, he’ll need to focus on that, won’t he?”

Baron Kilburn of Logos, explaining kindly, only deepened the despair of the messengers.

But they couldn’t give up. No, they didn’t have the luxury of giving up.

If they didn’t receive help from Lord Salen, the interim governor of Burgos, and the troops he had brought with him, their territories might truly collapse.

“Thank you for informing us, Baron Kilburn.”

“We express our deepest gratitude to the Lord of Logos on behalf of our lords.”

The messengers gave Baron Kilburn their farewells and prepared to leave for Burgos as quickly as possible.

However, the messenger who had initially asked the dumb question raised his hand cautiously.

“Lord of Logos, may I ask one more question, if that’s alright?”

“Of course, go ahead. What are you curious about?”

Recalling Si-on’s request to be as kind and helpful as possible when dealing with questions from the northeastern lords, Baron Kilburn answered leisurely.

That laid-back demeanor left all the messengers, who were about to exit the office, feeling an odd sense of discomfort.

It didn’t take long for them to realize the source of that discomfort.

“Have you, by any chance, already solved the monster problem in Logos?”

“……!”

This was it!

The messengers finally realized what had caused that strange feeling when they met Baron Kilburn earlier.

While their lords were growing grayer and more wrinkled every day due to the monster invasions, Baron Kilburn seemed far too relaxed.

“We’ve taken care of it.”

“What?!”

“H-How did you do that?”

The messengers, who had been on their way out, all rushed back in.

Leaning comfortably against his chair, Baron Kilburn explained.

“Lord Salen’s monster-hunting troops exterminated them all in just three days.”

“T-Three days!?”

The messengers’ jaws dropped.

Even though they had conscripted farmers and hired dozens to hundreds of mercenaries, their territories were still struggling to fend off the monsters.

“How is that even possible? I heard the monster-hunting troops don’t number more than a hundred….”

“They don’t. Only about 20 of them are veterans, and the remaining 60 or so have only been in the Peregrine Division for four or five months.”

“Gasp!”

They couldn’t believe it. If they had only been in service for four or five months, weren’t they practically new recruits?

“A-Are there many casualties?”

“The only deaths were from our own troops. One knight and eight soldiers died or were severely injured. They disobeyed Lord Salen’s orders and rashly left their positions.”

“But no one in the Peregrine Division died, and none were severely injured. Only three or four of them suffered minor injuries.”

“……!?”

How was that even possible?

In their own territories, more than that number were dying or being wounded every day. Yet not only had they managed to drive out all the monsters in just three days, they did so with such minimal casualties?

“Are you curious? About how such a thing was possible?”

“Y-Yes, please, if you would be so kind.”

“This.”

Baron Kilburn tapped his chest.

More precisely, he was referring to the clothing he wore.

It was a simple brigandine decorated with silver buttons and embroidery on black leather.

Brigandines were armor often worn as daily attire by nobles and knights.

Since Baron Kilburn was known as a frugal lord, even among the northeastern nobility, the messengers merely exchanged glances that said, “It suits him, but why point that out?”

“It’s a brigandine made from processed monster by-products. It’s a product of the Si-on Duchy.”

“Oh!”

The messengers’ eyes widened.

“The outer layer is made of troll leather, and the inner scale armor is crafted from iron mixed with troll bones. The embroidery is woven from the silk of marsh spiders. Lord Salen said that Sir Hender of the Si-on Duchy had specially ordered it for me.”

“I-I see.”

The messengers’ expressions showed a mix of surprise and envy.

The brigandine Baron Kilburn wore clearly wasn’t something just anyone could buy with money.

But what did that have to do with Logos’ ability to fend off the monsters with so few casualties…?

‘C-Could it be!?’

Baron Kilburn, who had proudly shown off his brigandine, got up from his seat and walked toward the window, his face beaming with satisfaction.

Gazing outside, he said:

“Lord Salen provided our territory’s troops with the same weapons and armor used by the Si-on Duchy’s regular army, at half price. Just as I had heard, the quality is outstanding.”

When we used the armor, the attacks from bipedal small monsters didn’t affect us at all.

Even the claws and fangs of large predators and medium-sized monsters were mostly blocked.

Ah, and the knights received special equipment made from processed monster by-products.

The swords and spears are especially incredible.

There was a troll that got struck by a sword on the shoulder, and it couldn’t heal right away. I saw it myself. Also….”

“……!”

The messengers’ eyes naturally followed Baron Kilburn’s gaze.

Outside the window, they saw the soldiers of Logos, equipped with matching armor and spears, far superior to the crude weapons and gear of their own troops and hired mercenaries.

They were diligently training under someone’s direction.

“Knights and rangers who have served in the Si-on Duchy for over five years are also providing monster-hunting training. They’ll head to Burgos in about two weeks, but after hunting monsters alongside veterans and receiving training, we in Logos no longer have much to worry about. Oh, and one more thing.”

Baron Kilburn now flashed a confident smile at the messengers.

“There’s going to be a new workshop in Burgos soon, where they’ll buy the monster by-products that our soldiers catch at a good price. Following Lord Salen’s advice, we in Logos are going to specialize in training monster-hunting troops.”

“…….”

The messengers were left utterly speechless.

While some territories were on the verge of ruin because of the monsters, here was Logos not only solving their monster problem but even making money from it.

How had that even become possible?

Only a fool wouldn’t know the answer by now.

“Thank you for your kind words, Lord of Logos! We’ll take our leave now!”

The quickest among them dashed out of the office like lightning.

“Farewell!”

“We’ll send our regards to our lords! Lord Calon, let’s go!”

More than ten messengers bolted out of the office in a frenzy.

“Take care, everyone.”

Baron Kilburn, usually known for his strict and stern demeanor, waved his hand with a satisfied smile.

It was the smile of a lord who, alongside Burgos, had forged ties with Lord Salen and was the first to commit to joining forces with him.

‘I’m truly grateful. It’s great to hear Piotr is doing well, too. I’ve certainly been lucky.’

The smile never left Baron Kilburn’s face as he recalled the letter written by his youngest son, which he had read countless times.

Little did he know that it wasn’t luck, but rather the deep regrets of his grandfather and an even deeper love for his mother that had made all of this possible.

* * *

The messengers, having left the Lord of Logos’ castle, rode their horses and carriages at breakneck speed toward Burgos.

Fortunately, Logos was the territory closest to Burgos, so they were able to arrive at Burgos just before sunset.

However, the gates of Burgos were firmly shut.

“We’ve come to see the governor, His Excellency!”

“I’m a retainer of Baron Bilgor from the Pantheon Territory! Where is Lord Salen?”

“Hey! Open the gates!”

The messengers, already hoarse from inhaling dust during their half-day ride, cried out until the gates opened.

“Oh! The captain of the guard, is it? I’m from Pantheon Territory….”

“I’m Felman from the Volphart Territory! I’ve met Lord Salen before….”

Even though more than ten people arrived at once, the captain of the guard remained calm and said:

“Ah, I understand why you’re here. You’re all here to see His Excellency the governor, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“Where is he now? The administrator’s residence? Perhaps he’s staying at an inn?”

The captain of the Burgos guards, who had previously tossed Si-on’s identification token to the administrator when he returned from the Wastelands of the Dragon, was politically savvy (or irresponsible) enough to handle the situation in his own way.

A self-proclaimed small-minded person, the captain of the guard never, under any circumstances, forgot the indignities he had suffered in the past.

“Well, you see, our soldiers recently spotted some orcs north of the wasteland.”

“O-Orcs…?”

“Yes. About thirty of them, but it could be more. Anyway, there’s a big commotion because of them. That’s why we’re closing the gates early.”

“What does that have to do with Lord Salen…?”

“What do you mean, what does it have to do with him?”

The guard captain, who had turned his brutish face toward the man who dared to ask such a question, made him take an involuntary step back.

“They’re orcs from Orcland. Orcs that have traveled over 100 kilometers from Orcland to here. Of course, His Excellency the governor must focus on this matter, don’t you think?”

“N-Now that you mention it, that makes sense. So?”

The guard captain, who never forgot a grudge, smiled slyly as he glanced at the underlings sent by the northeastern lords who had ignored Burgos’ earlier requests for support.

“Until His Excellency takes care of the orc problem, he said he won’t meet anyone. Ah, but you can wait. He might change his mind.”

“Eeeeek!?”

A strange scream echoed in front of the gates of Burgos.

And four days later, a party of much higher status than those who had screamed before — a group that included a single carriage — arrived at Burgos.

There were ten knights clad in gleaming plate armor, and fifty cavalrymen equipped with chainmail and shields emblazoned with the lion crest.

“It’s His Highness the Crown Prince and former Minister of the Interior, Lord Rundel.”

“Yes, indeed. But….”

“What is it?”

Was this guy so desperate to lose his job or his head?

Even as the Crown Prince himself had personally arrived, the provincial guard captain of this backwater didn’t immediately open the gates, causing one of the knights to frown.

But the small-minded guard captain, though trembling (he was more afraid of Si-on than the Crown Prince), boldly spoke his mind.

“Y-Your number is 18. There is an absolute order from His Excellency not to make any exceptions….”

“What? What the hell!?”

“Y-Yes, it’s number 18. That’s correct.”