Having Miklotov as our ally would be wonderful; it would be a significant boost if we publicly reveal this endorsement. We would attract a lot of attention to Irlam and could secure better contracts and more precise information.
But that wouldn't be right; if I make Miklotov's support public, they will come after him again. The person Miklotov supports must remain neutral and not make any additional effort.
"Support Priscilla Barielle," I say in a deep voice, surprising both Emilia and Miklotov.
He shakes his head.
"My grandson was all I had left; now Emilia's growth as a candidate is the most important thing."
Miklotov was willing to sacrifice himself to stir things up, knowing that he would eventually be killed. He won't go down without a fight. If Miklotov declared himself our main support, his death would be the trigger that would move everyone.
Yes, because some candidate would be blamed for it.
"So what? If you die, nothing will change. We need you alive," I say, looking at Emilia with a smile. "I'm sure Emilia won't allow you to sacrifice your life, no matter what, right?"
Emilia looks at Miklotov with a certain tender anger as she understands his true intention. She takes Miklotov's hands and looks him directly in the eyes.
"I'm not going to let you do that. I know you must be going through a heartbreaking and sad time, but that doesn't mean your life has come to an end. Your grandson wouldn't want that for you."
"Miss..." Miklotov murmurs.
Emilia smiles, radiating tranquility.
"Even if you cease to be wise, we will accept you with open arms so you can enjoy a peaceful life."
Miklotov's eyes widen disproportionately; he seems to be more sentimental than I had imagined. However, he hasn't shed a single tear.
Well, I don't know what I would do in his place.
Revenge.
I lived almost to die for it. Defeating the state... I guess we have something in common.
"Without a doubt, I don't regret my decision," Miklotov affirms with determination.
Miklotov seems resolute, and Emilia also seems to understand his intentions. Emilia has managed the situation admirably well; she probably didn't even think of using him for her own purposes and still managed to gain his trust effortlessly.
Emilia and the protagonist of the novel are quite similar. I guess that's why they loved each other.
And then there's someone like me...
Miklotov stands up and takes out another paper from his pocket; he hands it to me gently while talking about an award given to someone who defeated an archbishop, as well as recognition for the general populace.
"The committee agreed to give an award, but unfortunately, I couldn't increase the rewards," Miklotov explains, frowning. "The first reward consists of a substantial sum of money: five hundred holy coins."
"Normally, two thousand are awarded," he adds with regret, "but due to many problems and the lack of a ruler in Lugunica, the country is not going through its best times. "
Five hundred holy coins are still a staggering amount. They would allow you to live luxuriously and without worries for your entire life.
Although, well, that money won't be for me... The soldiers insist it be given to the families of the deceased. However, granting them such a sum would cause more problems in their lives.
It's difficult when they don't know how to manage such amounts of money... I suppose I'll have to carefully think about how to deliver the money to them.
The next award is recognition for the place that resisted and eliminated the threat.
"Given its sparse population," Miklotov continues, "We have decided to make a change: this village will become an honorary village of Lugunica."
"The problem lies in the condition they have added," Miklotov continues with a somber voice. "The imperial knights and nobles will take charge of governing the village as an honorary village."
It was to be expected.
Turning Irlam into an honorary village would be an unprecedented opportunity for its advancement, so they have devised this strategy to control the village and obtain both the weapons and the steam engine.
Beatrice frowns and grumbles with indignation at his words.
Miklotov can't do anything about it; leaving the village alone would be equivalent to:
"Not protecting the honor of Lugunica."
The next reward surprises me.
"The so-called 'Irlam army' will be granted the status of an allied force," Miklotov solemnly announces.
The status of an allied force implies that we are not knights but allies in the intentions of the Kingdom of Lugunica.
This means they will support us in military and monetary decisions, as well as demand our assistance when there is war or when our strength is needed.
"These rewards seem more like a noose around the neck," Miklotov comments with embarrassed chuckles.
"It's obvious that these conditions are simply ways to tie us to the kingdom to snatch away everything we have. If we accept becoming an allied force, they will steal the plans for the rifle under the excuse of duty to the kingdom to enhance their military power. "
In this world, clearly, patents don't exist, so hiding the method of creation is common.
The last reward isn't any better.
"Marco Luz will be granted the title of royal knight of the Kingdom of Lugunica," Miklotov announces bitterly. "Normally, they wouldn't do something like this, but the archbishop's achievements cannot be attributed to a commoner, much less someone who didn't have the kingdom's support. "
'Sir Marco Luz defeated an archbishop.' It sounds much better in everyone's minds, as it automatically associates knights with honorable figures.
This implies that I am obligated to comply with the kingdom's rules, its requests, and be bound by its honor rules.
"It's undoubtedly surprising, and I suppose I'm forced to accept all these conditions or end up with nothing," I murmur with resignation.
Miklotov nods in silence, his expression reflecting the frustration of his failed attempts to change the situation.
"Don't be completely disheartened; there's something more I could achieve," Miklotov says as he hands me another letter, this time adorned with more pomp.
Upon seeing it, a smile forms on my lips.
"Marco Luz is granted the status of a baron. It was the most I could achieve so far," Miklotov explains.
The noble status, even if it's low nobility, ensures the power to manage a small fief.
This means I'll be able to have lands under my name if I can acquire them. I'll be able to buy lands around Roswaal's domain without needing to use his name for it.
Additionally, being a noble already makes me part of the kingdom and opens the possibility of ascending within those terms. It gives me a certain status apart from my own possessions.
A great door has opened for me, even if it's just as a lower-ranking member of the nobility. Although it's not equivalent to being a royal knight due to the inherent implications of the noble title.
"So, I reject the other options and will stick with this," I announce decisively. Miklotov nods solemnly before standing up and heading towards us.
We rise and shake hands with the hand extended by Miklotov. Now that this unexpected alliance has been formed, all that's left is to wait and do our best to carry it out successfully.
Before leaving, I reach into my jacket pocket and take out the communication device. I hand it to Miklotov and quickly explain its functioning and the precautions to consider.
"We will use it to share information, thus avoiding any unwanted leakage or interception," I explain with determination.
"It's an extremely versatile device. It's heartbreaking to think that the cult followers possess something so advanced," Miklotov comments as he examines the device in astonishment.
Such a communicator is extremely rare, so few people have one in their possession.
And it's even less easily cloned; it needs to be created from scratch. But I'm confident that I can achieve it with Beatrice once she fully understands Yin magic.
The three of us calmly exit and meet Gildark, who seems to have been brought out due to the nature of our conversation. However, I can sense a certain trust in him from Miklotov, although I also notice his caution. That doesn't bother me at all.
"Miss Emilia, Mr. Marco, allow me to accompany you," Gildark requests with a deep and serious voice.
We nod, and we start walking together.
As we move forward, I can feel the piercing gazes of some nobles and knights on us. They are just looks, nothing more. They don't say or murmur a word because they know very well what happened to the other noble.
I smile with satisfaction as I enjoy the confusion on their faces. Beatrice and Emilia seem to appreciate the place while I have fun watching how the nobles silently suffer in our presence. I suppose even the bad has its silver lining.
However, we haven't obtained the money or the recognition I was expecting. My plan relied precisely on being recognized as something significant for this kingdom.
"It's a bit disappointing," I comment with resignation as I gaze at the ceiling of the hallway where we are right now.
My mind races, wondering if I should have taken a different path. Perhaps accept the award and then stab them in the back. The problem is when to carry out such an action. My strength lies in weapons and industry; losing that would be falling into an abyss.
It's like in my world: if you give away everything you have, they throw you into the pit of darkness, but if you don't give it away, they'll seek to obtain it in other ways.
The security of Irlam needs to be urgently reinforced, especially by developing better techniques for manufacturing weaponry. Currently, the best version is in a gift I prepared beforehand.
However, acquiring metals is undoubtedly a pressing need.
I am deeply concerned about the existence of earth-element cloning magic and places where this practice is common; it's something unsettling and unknown to me until now.
If they manage to clone gunpowder, it will be a significant impediment to our plans. That's why we have added spells to the bullets, although their effectiveness is not entirely satisfactory.
The best I've achieved so far is incorporating spells into the magazine itself. This way, the protection activates if someone tries to disarm the magazine, but if it's the bullets themselves inside the weapon, there's no issue.
As I contemplate all the things I need to do and improve in this aspect, I realize that we have finally reached our destination. The journey has been long and exhausting, but soon we'll be leaving this place behind.
It's truly amazing how all these events have unfolded, and especially wonderful is the ally we have found. I also can't forget the small connection I established with that noble.
He seems to be an important piece in all of this.
The soldiers give a military salute and urge us to board specially prepared carriages: one for ourselves and another for the soldiers.
"Sir Gildark," I say as I hand him a letter, "if you wish to contact us at any time, send a letter directly to Irlam; once the messenger arrives there, I'll send a response letter."
Gildark nods in understanding before discreetly stepping away. In these delicate moments, it's not advisable to draw too much attention to him or allow unnecessary suspicions.
We are under constant surveillance from both the nobles and the cultists, so caution is our best ally. Fortunately, Gildark seems to understand this, and I trust that he will handle things well.
We board the carriage and head towards Roswaal's mansion in Lugunica, where we will spend the night before continuing with our pending tasks.
Afterward, we will visit Crusch's mansion. Tomorrow, without further delay, I will be granted the title of baron.
Unfortunately, there won't be any celebrations or festivities on this occasion, which is a shame considering that festivities are excellent opportunities to establish new social and political connections.
However, Miklotov has hurried everything due to the urgent nature of our current situation. It's better to receive my deserved reward as soon as possible to avoid any later attempts by other nobles to steal the credit.
There is no doubt that the news will quickly spread: "The person who defeated an archbishop now becomes a baron." This fact will surely be known in every corner of the kingdom.
Emilia, who is sitting on the other side of the carriage, leans towards me and takes my hand with a sweet smile on her lips.
"I have always wished to have a knight by my side," Emilia says as she looks out the window with a playful spark in her eyes. "Emilia's knight, Marco Luz. Hehehe..."
Her words elicit laughter from her as she gazes at me with tenderness. At that moment, Beatrice also takes hold of my hand and proudly exclaims:
"Hmpf! Marco is already a true knight." Beatrice places her other hand on her chest, swelling it with pride. "Marco is Betty's knight indeed!"
Emilia smiles, leaning forward to appreciate Beatrice's surprised expression. In a mocking tone, she adds:
"That's right... Marco is Emilia's knight."
These words cause Beatrice's eyes to open wide, and she hugs me tightly, pressing her head against my chest while shooting a sharp look at Emilia.
"That's not true at all, in fact," Beatrice asserts, squeezing the hug even tighter. "Marco is Betty's knight!"
Despite being over four hundred years old, Beatrice has been behaving like a child since this new stage in our life together began. And even though it might seem strange for someone so ancient to act this way, I find it gratifying to see her being herself and doing what pleases her.
Who am I to stop her?
Emilia pouts as she watches Beatrice. Then, she crouches down and gently takes one of Beatrice's cheeks between her fingers.
"Don't be selfish, that's not right," Emilia scolds her. "Don't behave like a spoiled child."
Beatrice ignores Emilia's attempts at reprimand, so it's up to me to act. I seat her on my lap and look directly into her eyes.
"Betty must be a good girl," I tell her with a soft but firm voice. "I would be very disappointed if my princess were so selfish."
My words seem to resonate within Beatrice as she considers what I've said. As our gazes meet, I can see her contemplating her actions and emotions. It's important for me to guide her towards a more compassionate and generous path.
The sweetness of the moment envelops us as we continue our journey towards Roswaal's mansion in Lugunica. The complicity between us grows stronger every day, forming a deep and unbreakable bond.
Beatrice's eyes widen in surprise, and her gaze fills with sadness as she lowers her head. In a soft and heavy tone, she argues, "Marco is Betty's knight indeed... Betty is afraid that he will drift away from her, I suppose."
Her words make me understand that Beatrice still fears losing me, feels the weight of insecurity in her heart. And even though it's true that I am now an important part of her life, I can't predict what the future holds.
Before I can respond to Beatrice, Emilia intervenes with sweetness.
"Marco will never drift away from you by being close to other people," Emilia assures her tenderly. "He loves you very, very much."
Beatrice nods with a discouraged expression, as if she had imagined futures where she was abandoned and alone. I see her holding on to me more and more, which deeply concerns me.
I don't want to create unhealthy dependence on her; I want her to have the opportunity to meet other people and fully enjoy the world around her.
I say this not because I don't want to be loved by her; I just long for that love to be healthy and balanced.
Someday, I will embark on the final encounter with death, leaving this world behind. However, it would be comforting to know that Emilia will continue to accompany Beatrice for a long time.
This thought reinforces my conviction even more: a romantic relationship between Emilia and me would be cruel and unfair to her.
I will die as a mere mortal while she will continue living as an elegant elf. Although that doesn't mean her life will end, I'm sure she will find someone else in the future. It's the nature of life, after all.
But still, I can't help but think of how unfair it is for Beatrice.
Beatrice gracefully nods, her eyes resting on Emilia, whose appearance seems to have improved. But it's in Beatrice's soft and tender tone where I find the true essence of her soul.
"I'm sorry, indeed. Betty didn't mean to say that at all, I suppose," Beatrice whispers while delicately taking Emilia's hand, as if it were a fragile jewel she fears breaking.
The tenderness emanating from Beatrice intensifies as seconds pass; her lips form small pouts as she struggles to find the right words. My heart threatens to falter in the face of such overflowing sweetness.
Beatrice has undoubtedly been the most extraordinary blessing I have ever received; she has managed to completely transform my life.
"Betty can share him if that makes you happy, I suppose," Beatrice murmurs, "but Betty will always be the number one indeed."
Beatrice's words overwhelm my heart to the point of overflowing. A smile lights up Emilia's radiant face as she places her hand on Betty's head.
"¿He will be our knight, won't he?" Emilia says as she looks at me with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.
Beatrice nods before Emilia suddenly embraces us both; her arms wrap around our bodies like a protective shield against any adversity from the outside world.
In that intimate embrace, our heads lean towards the center, merging in perfect harmony. Time seems to stand still as we remain like this, immersed in a silence that speaks more than a thousand words.
And then, after a few eternal and precious seconds, Emilia separates from us with a radiant smile on her lips.
"Hehe... I guess in the end, I will have my knight," Emilia asserts as she looks at me with infinite tenderness; our intertwined fingers reveal the complicity of our entwined destinies.
An overwhelming parallelism surges before me like a raging wave: the vivid memory of that time when I traveled through this world full of desires and uncertainties, when I had decided to consume everything in my path; that fateful day when I risked my own life without hesitation to save hers.
It was the day I met Emilia, and everything began.
And now, here we are, enveloped in this magical atmosphere where our lives converge. Without thinking twice, I place my trembling hand on Emilia's soft and warm cheek, surprising her slightly but finding a safe haven within her astonished gaze.
As I feel the emotions welling up within me like tumultuous waves against the rocky cliffs of the shared destiny between these two disparate Emilias but connected by invisible threads...
I delve deeply into my thoughts about everything that has happened so far.
If both Emilias, the one created in the literary novel and this Emilia, had the opportunity to meet face to face... What kind of interactions would emerge between them?
It's a question that sends shivers down my spine and awakens an unknown longing within me.
I gently place my hand on her cheek, and a smile forms on Emilia's lips. Slowly, our faces draw closer, and I can sense a shy blush tinting her cheeks. Her eyes reveal a deep longing as they begin to close slowly.
Without breaking eye contact, I press my forehead against hers in an intimate and sincere gesture. Our noses brush in an Eskimo kiss laden with meaning.
"This is something the village girls taught me; it's a display of affection and closeness," Emilia explains with a hint of hesitation.
In the novel, it is more than evident that she is deeply in love with the protagonist, but she completely misunderstands the true meaning of that feeling because she has conceived it as something abstract and unattainable.
Although personally, I like to see love as something much more transcendent than mere words.
Intrigued to know what effects this simple gesture has had on her, I calmly ask:
"Did you feel anything?"
Emilia momentarily averts her gaze before responding firmly while shrugging slightly:
"I won't tell you that!"
A mischievous smile lights up Emilia's radiant face after uttering those provocative words, watching as Beatrice is surprised by this bold insinuation.
"Flirting shamelessly in front of me, I suppose," Beatrice says, shooting a disdainful look toward Emilia. However, the latter simply smiles enigmatically without saying a word.
Surprising Beatrice, Emilia lunges at her and lifts her into her arms with an unexpected strength. The carriage doors suddenly swing open, and curious servants peek their heads out to witness this unusual spectacle.
"Look, it's your turn too," Emilia states with a mischievous smile. She holds her gently as they share an Eskimo kiss, causing Beatrice's face to display astonishment and confusion.
"What...!"
Beatrice barely has time to articulate a word before finding herself in the same position I was in moments ago. It's clear that this situation would have been unfavorable if it had occurred during my encounter with Emilia.
The mere rumor of a romantic relationship between us could lead to unwanted conflicts. After all, the queen is the epicenter of power, and her partner must be on par with her in terms of social status.
Although perhaps when Emilia is finally crowned as queen, she will be able to do as she pleases without worrying about others' opinions. I wonder what kind of person she will choose or fall in love with.
I suppose she will like men similar to the protagonist of the novel: cheerful, affectionate, and immature.
Somehow, that type of personality helped transform her into someone different within the literary narrative, as it fully aligns with her mental age, even if it's not really progress.
We descend from the carriage just as the sun begins to set on the golden horizon; the first stars make their timid appearance as the temperature gradually drops.
The night is in its early stages, and it seems like a good opportunity for a walk. After such a long and stressful day, enjoying a refreshing beer to clear the mind wouldn't hurt.
Or perhaps I could take this chance to "borrow" the wine that Roswaal guards so jealously in this place; that would be much more satisfying.
I decide to take a stroll, aiming to release the tension accumulated during this exhausting day. After a short break and a visit to the bathroom, everyone seems ready to depart again.
I observe my soldiers with determination as they maintain their steady gaze and upright posture, true guardians of our common cause.
"The night is a dangerous time, for we never know what kind of thieves or individuals we might encounter on our way. We must remain alert at all times and protect Miss Emilia and Miss Beatrice with all our strength," I warn with a firm voice.
The soldiers respond instantly, performing an impeccable military salute while shouting in unison:
"¡As you command, General!"
More and more, these men truly resemble authentic soldiers. The reason behind their skill and prowess lies in the rigorous training they have undergone.
"The Forest Sweeps": that's the name given to their arduous training. It involves pushing their limits by working with protective crystals strategically placed in the depths of the dense forest.
This task provides them with coercion and discipline, as they face hordes of wild mabeasts to test their worth.
They have even faced the leaders of these ferocious herds face to face. The giant mabeasts, whose defeat used to be an almost impossible feat, are now considered the ultimate test for the soldiers; an opportunity to demonstrate their cunning and tactical coordination.
Take Captain Bert, for example; during that crucial battle against the lesser beasts, he devised a bold strategy. While his comrades fought against the lower creatures, he personally took on the responsibility of confronting the leader.
It was at the precise moment when the mabeast roared and advanced threateningly toward him. With his incredible marksmanship skill, he managed to shoot directly through the monster's mouth to reach its unprotected brain.
That was a vulnerable area due to a weaker layer that was not fortified like the others.
This brave and accurate act earned Captain Bert an honorable title: the record time for defeating a herd leader among all the soldiers.
But not only are his individual feats notable; it is crucial to emphasize that, in situations where every life is at stake, both discipline and coordination are crucial for survival.
And that is the reason why these men learn so quickly.
The training they have undergone can be described as hellish, but it has yielded acceptable results so far.
After each grueling session, Emilia meticulously tends to the wounds of those soldiers who were injured and also provides energetic support even to those whose bodies are unharmed.
Her presence is an invaluable addition to speed up their muscle recovery.
So, as we prepare to embark on our nocturnal journey under this dark starry sky, I know that I can fully trust my men and our future queen Emilia to overcome any obstacle or unexpected danger we may encounter during our little expedition.
In the near future, I have planned to develop mana chambers as part of the training to prepare us for the eventuality of facing powerful mages.
Emilia heads towards the courtyard, where we eagerly await her. She wears an elegant casual white suit and dons a hoodie that allows her to blend in with the crowd.
"I prefer to walk quietly without drawing attention. I need a moment to relax," Emilia says as she takes Beatrice's hand with tenderness.
Undoubtedly, her desire in this situation is understandable. If I were in her place, I would do exactly the same.
But here, we are not in Irlam; any business or establishment that is aware of who Emilia is will be tempted to reject her due to ingrained prejudices.
It's best to avoid discomfort.
Until we achieve more feats and change people's perceptions, Emilia will be seen as "the half-demon." But I am confident that in the near future, she will be recognized under another title: Emilia, the promising candidate for the throne, just as she declared during the selection process.
Beatrice extends her other hand for me to take, and we begin our walk together. Since I handed over my Mirror metia (magical device communicator) to Miklotov before leaving, I have now borrowed Emilia's personal device to keep both Rem and Alsten informed about our general situation.
At this moment, we must remain alert and vigilant within the village for any possible threats or malicious individuals who may try to harm us. Alsten, as always, sets off without hesitation at my instructions.
He is a loyal and diligent man.
I think it would be pertinent to consider installing metal mesh around Irlam to ensure its protection. Erecting walls would be inefficient and costly, especially considering our limited resources.
However, with the good supply of iron we have, we could build a solid network of hidden traps within the mesh to deter potential intruders.
Additionally, I need to develop metias capable not only of protecting these meshes but also of alerting us to any attempted forced entry or unwanted presence in our secure area.
Security is an absolute priority at this crucial time. It will be the first thing I attend to upon returning, but in the meantime, I will rely on the hard work of the soldiers assigned to protect the village.
They work tirelessly, aware of their duty as guardians. I am confident that Alsten will organize shifts and tasks efficiently and effectively. I trust fully in his ability to maintain the security of the place.
The city takes on a different charm as night falls.
Taverns and restaurants open their doors, attracting customers with their warm and promising lights. We walk through the streets, observing everything calmly, enjoying this tranquil moment to clear our minds.
"Marco, look," Emilia exclaims, pointing to a nearby food stall. At first glance, it seemed to be a regular restaurant, but something has caught her attention, and now it also captures my curiosity. "Isn't that what you made once? Hamburgers!"
My eyes widen in surprise at this unexpected discovery. I never imagined finding hamburgers here, although, upon reflection, it shouldn't be so strange after all. However, it is fascinating to see how these delights have found their way to this distant land.
Maybe I am forgetting something.
Emilia and Beatrice decide to enter without a moment's hesitation after this irresistible culinary revelation.
Upon crossing the establishment's entrance, we are enveloped in a welcoming atmosphere typical of a family restaurant where moments of joy and satisfaction are shared.
The soft lighting and lively murmurs of the diners create a comforting ambiance.
A friendly waitress guides us to our table, while the security squad occupies a more discreet corner to avoid drawing attention and disorienting any potential undesirable individuals who might enter with malicious intentions.
Beatrice and Emilia sit comfortably in their seats as the waitress hands us the menus. Listed on a large and thick piece of paper are the different dishes offered by the restaurant.
The star dish, undoubtedly, is the hamburger, but there are also intriguing variations in its preparations. My attention is primarily captured by the paper used to print the menu.
I am reminded of my idea to create a printing press using a steam engine to take this advanced form of printing to the next level.
Although I know that a steam engine is not necessarily required for this, it would be much more practical and efficient to do so. I plan to establish a local newspaper and hire people dedicated to collecting interesting news about Lugunica and beyond.
It would be something distinctive that hasn't been done here yet. Emilia and Beatrice choose to order traditionally prepared hamburgers, not taking too many risks with new flavors.
As for me, I decide to try a different option: a hamburger with a special sauce accompanied by chicken.
However, I don't recognize the names used to describe the sauce on the menu. I ask Emilia if she has any idea, but she also doesn't know its meaning. So, I'll have to wait and discover it for myself.
Asking the waiters is out of the question; it takes away the magic of the surprise. Before the waitress leaves, I kindly ask for a favor.
"Could I speak with your manager?"