Akatsuki Translations

“They say the young master was kidnapped by the bandits?” -Sheets

The morning after the bandit attack, this news reached Sheets, who was busy with post-battle arrangements.

“Well, was he kidnapped or did he chase after them? The one kidnapped was a child… no, the young master is still a child, but, um, well…” -Villager

“I don’t understand. Calm down and explain!” -Sheets

“The truth is…” -Villager

◇◇◇◇◇

Amidst the chaos caused by dozens of bandits, two horsemen rode forth. Unable to advance or retreat, the disorganized group was an easy target for a cavalry charge. Moreover, they were trapped from both front and rear. If they focused on the front, they’d get attacked from the back, and vice versa. Already, over thirty bandits had been defeated.

“Bandits, drop your weapons and surrender! If not, we will show no mercy. I repeat, drop your weapons and surrender!” -Casserole

Casserole’s voice resonated well. But bandits who still resisted were mercilessly cut down. Some bandits, with ropes tied to their waists, or those who had given up resistance, threw away their weapons to signify surrender. The Morteln forces had successfully protected their citizens.

Men cheered in victory, and women and children replied with joy, relieved from their anxiety. They were intoxicated with a sense of achievement and relief.

However, the lord and conscripted soldiers still had work to do. They collected discarded weapons, surrendered bandits, and defeated ones, binding the bandits thoroughly. It took a significant amount of time.

Weapons collected and valuables the bandits carried, such as money and clothes, were distributed among those who contributed to the village’s defense and conscription efforts. Thankfully, there were no deaths, but the number of injured was considerable. To honor their contributions, it was customary to reward and punish accordingly.

The bandits were gathered in one place, and the main group assembled in front of the lord’s house. The post-battle processing was about to begin.

“Next, Glacage of Zasden.” -Casserole

“Yes.” -Glacage

“You defeated one bandit and contributed as an assistant for the front defense. As a reward, you’ll receive a spear and a silver coin.” -Casserole

Cheers erupted around him. Zasden is the name of the village, which is also the official name of the capital of the territory in external affairs. Glacage, a vassal, had technically assisted the next lord, and he was the one who had fired the flaming arrows at the young lord’s command.

Receiving a spear was an acknowledgment of his military achievements. And the added reward of a silver coin surprised and made the crowd envious.

“Next, Marcarullo and Luminito of Zasden.” -Casserole

“Yes, yes, here~!” -Luminito

“Wonder why we’re called together?” -Marcarullo

The names of the next two called stirred a different kind of buzz. They were children, notorious for their mischief.

“You both did great work, comparable to the adults. Each of you will receive a sword. Also, a bag of barley, which is for the both of you. You can brag about it when you get home.” -Casserole

“Yay!” -Luminito

“Even a brat’s stone-throwing can occasionally be useful.” -Marcarullo

“Definitely. But if you target me again like last time, I’ll give you a good spanking.” -Casserole

Laughter filled the surroundings. The two children, usually scolded, were heroes for the day. They were shyly basking in the praise from everyone. Amidst their blushing, a friend approached.

“You both did a great job.” -Pastry

“Hehe, not as much as Pas, but we did pretty well, right?” -Marcarullo

“Yes, you both were impressive.” -Pastry

“By the way, can you help us out? We can’t carry it on our own.” -Luminito

The barley bag they received as a reward was so large that even an adult would struggle to carry it. It weighed as much as Marc and Luminito. Naturally, the weight was too much for a single child and even the two together seemed shaky. That’s why they were asking for help. Of course, their friend Pas couldn’t refuse, and the three of them carried it out together, watched proudly by the surrounding adults.

They brought it to Marcarullo’s house, which belonged to the vassal Cointreau. Here, Mark was raised. Cointreau, the head of the household, was still busy with post-battle arrangements. Inside the house were his wife, daughter, and son; Marc’s mother, sister, and brother. The mother, usually lecturing, was overjoyed that her son had returned safely. She hugged her returned son, without scolding.

“Mom, I’m home.” -Marcarullo

“Welcome back, Marc. I’m glad you returned safely. Did you get hurt? I was so worried.” -Marcarullo’s Mother

“I’m fine. But look at this. The lord gave me a sword. And some barley. It’s to be shared half and half with Lumi’s family, but it’s amazing, right?” -Marcarullo

“That’s so cool, onii-chan!” -Marc’s younger sibling

“Thupa’ cool!” -Marc’s baby brother

Marc, with a proud look, drags his new sword along the ground, but still attaches it to his waist and puffs out his chest.

In general, achieving martial feats and rising in status is a typical success story. The sword at one’s waist, symbolizing this achievement, is something everyone admires.

“I’m just glad you came back without any injuries. The young master also mentioned that my foolish son seemed to have caused some trouble.” -Marcarullo’s Mother

“No, no. Both Marc and Lumi were commendable. I’m sure they will become invaluable talents in the Morteln territory in the future. The rewards they received today were rightfully earned. Please use it to feed them well.” -Pastry

“Yes, I’ll prepare a grand feast.” -Marcarullo’s Mother

Of the barley that was dropped on the floor, half of it needs to be taken to Lumi’s house.

Here, to ensure the division is fair, Pas devises a method.

He makes Marc divide it precisely into two equal parts and then lets Lumi choose which half to take home.

This way, there would be no complaints about unfairness from either side.

Lords often handle matters related to judicial authority.

Many disputes, such as who has less work assigned or whose house used more than their share of resources, are about profit negotiations. Governing these disputes is a testament to a lord’s skill. His mother, among others, was particularly impressed with this method of division. To him, it was just common sense, something most modern-educated people would think of.

Having divided the barley in half, they delivered it to Lumi’s house.

There, Luminito was also mobbed by their family.

In this house, Lumi’s grandfather, a former retainer, was still alive, and he was particularly elated at his grandchild’s first battle and achievements.

Seeing him tearfully embrace his grandchild, one would hesitate to say it was overly dramatic.

“Well done, just as expected from my grandchild. It’s truly commendable that at this age, you can serve the lord and the young master.” -Luminito’s Grandfather

“Ow, Grandpa, my spine’s gonna break. It’s gonna break~” -Luminito

“Yes, yes, our family’s future is now secure. We should prepare a celebration right away.” -Luminito’s Grandfather

Unfortunately, at this moment, some folks who had received wine as a reward appeared.

Ignoring the children’s achievements, an impromptu banquet began.

Amidst the still fervent victory celebration, the children except Pas slipped away.

After all, the two children who usually played pranks found it easy to slip away. The simple reason they escaped was that they were tired from the unfamiliar storm of praise.

While it’s nice to be praised, it can be tiring if you’re not used to it, a universal principle.

The two children, occasionally hitting the ground with the sheaths of their new swords, yet never letting go of them, headed for the barn where the bandits were temporarily held.

Driven by Marc’s curiosity, they wanted to take a closer look at the enemies they fought in their first battle.

Though they were called bandits, they were the same group that even the Count’s army had trouble with. Handing their captives over to Count Retes for a reward was natural. For the Count, it would be more beneficial to claim the practical achievement of successful subjugation rather than just the prestige of having driven them away.

The amount of the reward would depend on the negotiating skills of Sir Morteln, but given the main ringleaders among the bandits, they could at least recoup the expenses of this battle and the losses incurred by blocking off two villages other than their own. If they had been causing trouble even outside the Count’s territory, the price on their heads would likely be proportionally higher. If they presented their achievements to the Count in their entirety, the rewards would be substantial.

By the way, aside from the main leaders, the miscellaneous underlings were apparently subjected to torture to extract information. Their fate was to be sold off as slaves. Whether it’s to the mines, research facilities, or the battlefield, no matter where they’re sent, it’s unlikely they’ll be alive six months from now.

What kind of individuals become bandits even when they know they’re heading for such a tragic fate?

Everyone shares that curiosity, and when it comes to a child’s curiosity, it’s often greater than that of adults.

However, as they approached the barn, a stench hit them.

The smell of blood, the body odor of bandits who hadn’t bathed for months, and the smell of feces and urine. The combined unbearable stench was especially strong for the children’s sensitive noses.

“It stinks so bad.” -Marcarullo           

“Yeah.” -Luminito

The barn was like a storage building in the village.

It’s used to store tools like plows to protect them from rain and dew. It’s a communal storage managed by villagers in rotation.

Being just a storage, its construction is quite rudimentary.

Walls made of single planks with gaps for the wind. A bare ground floor. Hardly a place for humans to rest.

“What are you kids doing here? It’s dangerous, stay away.” -Guard

“Come on, just for a bit.” -Luminito

“Hey, wait. You shouldn’t go into the barn.” -Guard

Dodging the adults guarding the place, the two children sneaked into the barn.

Inside, the bandits were tightly bound and left on the ground.

The gang, known for their hot-blooded nature, glared at the two children who entered the barn.

Grown men. Moreover, men who were bloodied and fierce. Marcarullo and Luminito were intimidated when glared at by such men.

No matter how mischievous they might be, it’s only natural to be overwhelmed by the presence of men who have literally killed people.

Yet Marc, in an attempt to appear brave in front of the scared Luminito who was slightly hiding behind him, put on a false front.

“Wh-what? It ain’t a big deal.” -Marcarullo

Even though he looked clearly terrified and shaky, perhaps there’s a male pride even in children.

With trembling legs, he approached the bandits.

How dangerous this act was, they did not know. Even if they did, for these two mischievous kids, stepping into danger was just another day.

“Hey, brat.” -Helm

A low, growling voice.

The deep, drum-like call made the child shiver.

“The sword you’re wearing. What’s up with it?” -Helm

The man who addressed him was the leader of the bandits.

In his eyes, there was clearly a sword that seemed out of place on a child.

“W-W-what do you mean? I ain’t scared or nothin’.” -Marcarullo

“Just answer, brat. I’m askin’ about that sword.” -Helm

“I defeated you guys and got it as a reward.” -Marcarullo

“That so?” -Helm

The man who spoke to the child, with a face more frightening than most, was named Helm.

Helm was the leader of the bandits. He had once led a mercenary group, so he wasn’t dim-witted.

He was recognized by his peers for his strength and wit.

In his own way, he wanted to navigate out of the current situation. He had discarded the idea of giving up long ago. He needed to survive, no matter how filthy the means, or he wouldn’t be able to face those who had helped him escape death.

He was serious now.

With guards watching from the outside, he couldn’t make a careless move. But he thought that using the child in front of him might be a way to improve their situation.

Then, an idea popped into his head.

“Hey kid, lend me that sword.” -Helm

“Ah, don’t be stupid! Why would I give it to you?” -Marcarullo

“Just give it here. That sword used to be mine. It has a secret ya know. I might be executed, but before that, I want you to know the true way to use my sword.” -Helm

“The true way to use it?” -Marcarullo

“Yeah. If used correctly, it can unleash magic.” -Helm

“Really?!” -Marcarullo

Magic.

A mystery in this world that only a very few could harness.

Depending on its use, it could be a powerful force, equivalent to the strength of a hundred men. Those who could use magic could expect to rise to the rank of a quasi-knight (a vassal allowed to ride)[1] at the very least.

It’s a shortcut to rise from a commoner.

A power everyone longs for. Especially since his best friend had become a magician just a few weeks ago, the desire was fervent.

“Alright, hold the sword and chant ‘Fire, come forth.’” -Helm

“L-like this?” -Marcarullo

“Hey, don’t listen to him!” -Luminito

Marcarullo, awkwardly unsheathing his sword, was too naive, having grown up surrounded by kind-hearted adults, to recognize the cunning malice of the bandit.

“That’s it! It looks pretty good.” -Helm

“Heh, you think?” -Marcarullo

“Stop it, I said!” -Luminito

Despite Luminito’s warning, if Marcarullo had truly listened, he wouldn’t be a mischievous child in the first place.

“That’s where you chant the spell, but this one’s quite dangerous. Can’t let even your friends hear it. Can you lend me your ear for a moment?” -Helm

Marc, having been complimented so much, was beaming with pride.

He unsuspectingly leaned in. The bandit smirked, a likeable smile, but no one there realized it was a mischievous one.

“So, what’s the sp-GAH!!!” -Marcarullo

Taking advantage of the opening, the bandit swiftly cut his own bindings with the sword Marc was holding, punched Marc in the stomach, and reclaimed his sword.

Marc, punched in the gut, spat out his recent meal on the ground, his face landing in his own vomit.

The sword he involuntarily released ended up in the hands of the bandit, of all people.

“Gyah!!” -Luminito

The overconfident young boy had his nose and belly broken almost simultaneously.

Luminito, in the midst of all this, was slashed at with the sword.

Miraculously, Luminito displayed a reaction beyond what one would expect from a child and managed to avoid a fatal blow by deflecting it with the hilt of their own sword. However, they still received a gash on their abdomen, and in a blink, their clothes were stained with blood.

“What’s going on?!” -Guard

“Damn it, need to escape.” -Helm

Even if they were always causing trouble, the commotion had alerted those outside.

The leader looked briefly at his comrades, but there was no time to help them.

Guards stormed in, and more people seemed to be gathering.

They had no choice but to flee.

But this man was not one to just run away without a plan.

“Clear the way, or this brat’s head will fly off if you get in my way!” -Helm

Grabbing the crouching Mark with one hand, Helm ran, pressing a sword against the boy’s neck.

The villagers, having a child’s life used as a shield against them, couldn’t fully surround the man due to his momentum, allowing him to escape. Their lack of readiness for such emergencies, being simple farmers, became evident.

For an average person, when faced with the choice between a child’s life and stopping a criminal, there would be hesitation. It was a typical scene in such situations.

However, not everyone was “average.”

Hearing the commotion, Pastry rushed over. The look on his face was stern when he realized his two best friends were involved. He reprimanded the panicking adults around him.

“What are you doing? Someone, attend to Lumi immediately. Prioritize stopping the bleeding. Even if it leaves a scar, it’s fine. In the worst case, cauterize the wound. Otherwise, their life is in danger.” -Pastry

“Yes, right away!” -Guard

“I heard what happened. Which direction did the bandit go?” -Pastry

“To the east…” -Guard

“Perfect. I’ll pursue him right away. Please let my father and Sheets know. Hurry!” -Pastry

No sooner said than done, Pastry dashed out of the barn.

Mounting a horse tied outside the barn, he rode skillfully towards the east. The barn originally had space for horses, but they had been temporarily tied outside to throw the bandits in.

Of the two horses that should have been there, only one remained.

Realizing the reason, Pastry spurred the horse to its maximum speed.

Watching the silhouette of the galloping horse, the villagers snapped out of their stupor after a moment and rushed to inform the lord and his right-hand man about the situation.

◇◇◇◇◇

“So, that’s what happened…” -Casserole

“…We got played.” -Sheets

Casserole and Sheets found their post-battle euphoria dampened by the unexpected turn of events.

They had given orders to the guards to watch the barn from the outside and not to enter it. They hadn’t anticipated that a child would go in, and even if they wanted to pursue, their previous order hindered them.

Considering the worst-case scenario where the bandits might have had a magician among them, the plan was to eventually burn down the barn if necessary. Hay, which would act as fuel, was already stacked inside.

The blame couldn’t be placed solely on the ones who issued the orders. Rather, the unexpected entry of the child was expertly exploited by the enemy.

“Didn’t you set traps to the east?” -Casserole

“That was the boy’s area. He had set nasty traps. Threads darkened with soot and small pitfalls just big enough to trap a foot.” -Sheets

The east side of the village was primarily fortified by Pastry.

Of course, his father and Sheets were aware of the specifics, and they occasionally checked on it. But their own areas were different.

“If that’s the case, he might catch up, but…” -Casserole

Originally, the strategy for any enemies heading east was to delay them, giving time to scatter and defeat them one by one.

The various traps meant to buy time would be a significant hindrance to the fleeing bandit.

Unaware of these traps, he would have no choice but to slow down. Surely, Pastry, knowing this, chose to pursue.

Given this, catching the escaping bandit shouldn’t be difficult, but Casserole and Sheets had other concerns.

“I’ll go after my son. Sheets, you stay and fortify the defense.” -Casserole

“No, boss. The one who fled is quite skilled. I should go. You should stay here and be prepared for any contingencies.” -Sheets

Their concern was for the kidnapped child and Pastry.

Even though the kidnapped boy wasn’t a magician, his life was still in danger. Especially if the bandit deemed him a nuisance.

“Alright. But it’s dangerous alone. Take some men with you.” -Casserole

“Then give me all the sober ones. Those who fall behind can catch up later.” -Sheets

“Understood. Be careful.” -Casserole

Throwing away his heavy armor, Sheets started running.

Without a horse, catching up would take time. In fact, catching up to a horse on foot is generally impossible.

It all depended on how much the traps would delay the bandit. For the rushing man, there was no other option but to run.

It can be said it was fortunate that tracing the footsteps of the escaped bandits was easy.

The posts from which ropes had been forcefully removed, noticeable holes here and there, and remnants of torn clothing. These lingering traces of hindrances continued in spots.

If he hadn’t known about these traps, he would have definitely struggled. Sheets even felt grateful, considering this.

“Boy~!” -Sheets

The man, Sheets, shouts exerting his voice, one that could overshadow the uproar of a battlefield.

The boy he’s known since birth is like his own child. His earnest wish for the boy’s safety inadvertently comes out of his mouth.

He hopes to catch up quickly.

However, sometimes human desires are made to be betrayed.

What Sheets, out of breath, saw was a sight sufficient to stop him in his tracks.

Clear signs of a battle.

And there, a large amount of blood. Puddles of blood.

Above all, within that blood was something familiar.

The sword his friend had carefully chosen for his son.

Seeing it completely broken, Sheets envisioned the worst scenario.

Trying to stay strong, he pushes away the worst thoughts. Glancing around, he notices a horse lying a bit further away.

It has a broken leg and a broken neck. It likely got caught in one of Pas’s traps, tripped from the momentum, and broke its neck.

Beside it, another horse seems to be grieving.

With two horses here and signs of battle, it’s natural to assume the boy and the bandits had a confrontation. And since neither the bandits nor the boy are here, they must have moved somewhere.

But where?

“Lord Sheets, please wait~!” -Villager

From the village, a few people finally caught up.

“You’re late. It seems the boy and the bandits clashed here. Do you know where they went next?” -Sheets

They are currently to the east of the village.

So they must be further east or in the north or south direction.

Sheets has been using his “Far Sight” to its fullest, but he can’t see any sign of them.

“Damn it, where did they go?!” -Sheets

The worst-case scenario.

The possibility that the bandits had a magician with them, who kidnapped not just the boy but also the next lord. And the possibility that they’ve already been killed.

He can’t help but consider it.

They decide to split up and search for clues.

Those who caught up later also join the search.

After searching for about an hour.

In the end, they found nothing.

“Lord, shouldn’t we return to the village and inform the mansion?” -Villager

“…Yeah, you’re right.” -Sheets

Sheets felt bitter.

Not only did they let the bandits escape due to their oversight, but they also let the child be taken away.

He was supposed to be fully prepared for this bandit extermination, yet he felt regret and shame.

With a heavy heart, he returned to the village, dragging his feet towards the mansion.

Though it should be a familiar path, today it felt unbearably long and treacherous.

And the one who greeted him at the mansion…

“Ah, Sheets, welcome back.” -Pastry

A boy with silver hair and reddish-brown eyes.

It was Pastry Mille Morteln himself.