As the Founding Festival drew near, the atmosphere within both the estate and the domain grew increasingly frantic.
Elsa and her crew had begun the exhaustive task of inspecting all three hundred sets of equipment, while Clarice was buried under the logistics of arranging supplies and food for the journey to the royal capital.
I, for my part, had been shackled to my desk since morning, yet for every document I cleared, two more seemed to sprout in its place. I had assumed that becoming a duke would allow me to delegate my work and enjoy a life of leisure, but by every possible metric, I was busier now than I had ever been.
...Something is wrong here. Isn't a high rank supposed to mean less work?
Occupied with those bitter thoughts, I made my way toward the training ground. Even before I reached it, the echoes of Raisa's shouting and the thunderous voices of the soldiers reached me.
"Again! Don't you dare think that’s enough! If you want to go to the royal capital just to be a laughingstock, stay on the ground!"
She was as relentless as ever. I slowed my pace as I entered the training ground, observing the scene. The three hundred men destined for the Founding Festival were drenched in sweat, clearly pushed to their limits.
And yet, even the men who used to collapse the moment training ended were now standing tall, conferring with their neighbors about their footwork or regripping their wooden swords.
They moved instantly at the crack of Raisa's voice, and when Lydia issued instructions from a short distance away, they reacted without a moment's hesitation. Lydia appeared to be having them reform their lines repeatedly; she was clearly being just as strict in her own way.
Even with my limited military knowledge, the improvement was obvious. Their movements were far more synchronized than they had been weeks ago, and the sheer intensity radiating from the field was palpable.
"...They seem a bit more fired up than usual, don't they?"
Noticing my arrival, Raisa lowered the wooden sword she had been resting on her shoulder and walked toward me.
"Of course they are. We’re running out of time before the festival. Besides, this is about half your fault, Boss."
"Mine? I haven't done a thing."
In fact, I only recalled telling them not to push themselves to the point of injury. When I pointed this out, Raisa gestured toward the soldiers with her chin and chuckled.
"That's exactly it... You told them that fifth place was plenty and not to overdo it if they were going to get hurt, right? Well, that just lit a fire under them. Since they're going all the way to the capital, they’ve decided they want to win big and give you a real shock. They’ve gotten themselves all worked up."
"...How did it turn into that?"
"Hell if I know. Don't ask me."
As far as I was concerned, taking fifth place and the accompanying prize money was more than sufficient, but their motivation wasn't a bad thing. At the very least, the atmosphere was no longer that of men merely going through the motions because they were ordered to. At this rate, they likely wouldn't be knocked out in the first round.
As I watched the three hundred men, I suddenly recalled Raisa’s background.
"Come to think of it, Raisa... you were a kingdom knight once, weren't you?"
"Yeah... though it feels like a lifetime ago."
"In that case, don't you hate the idea of going back to the royal capital? You'll probably run into old acquaintances."
Raisa's smile faltered for a fraction of a second. She quickly smoothed her expression back to its usual neutral mask, but it was clear she wasn't entirely indifferent.
"I don't particularly hate the capital itself. There are good restaurants and plenty of taverns. If the spots I used to frequent are still around, I’d actually like to stop by."
"So it was the Kingdom Knights you hated?"
"...Boss, you really like to dig deep at times like this, don't you?"
Raisa gave a dry laugh and sat down on a nearby wooden crate. I remained standing beside her, looking out at the training ground. After listening to the soldiers' rhythmic shouts for a moment, Raisa began to speak slowly, her voice tinged with nostalgia.
"When I first became a knight, I genuinely loved it. I thought I’d swing my sword to protect the country and that skill alone would be enough to let me rise. But once I actually saw the battlefield, I realized the life didn't suit me as much as I thought."
"...What happened?"
"It’s an old story from when I was defending a fort near the border. The order was to hold the position until reinforcements arrived, but the enemy numbers were far higher than reported. If we stayed, half my men would have been slaughtered. The reinforcements were a gamble at best, so I chose to withdraw on my own authority."
"...And then?"
"They tore into me. Oh, it was brutal! They claimed I’d abandoned my post, turned my back on the enemy, and stained the pride of a knight. Never mind that I brought every single man back alive, or that we joined another unit and stabilized the front line later. To them, the fact that I disobeyed an order was the only thing that mattered."
I considered her words for a moment, but to me, there was only one logical conclusion.
"Hmph. You made the right call. If you're dead, it’s over. If you come back alive, even if you’re injured, you can heal and work again. It’s far cheaper than having to recruit new soldiers, feed them from scratch, buy new gear, and slog through their training all over again."
Raisa looked at me with an unreadable expression.
"...Boss, is that your way of praising me?"
"I am praising you. I prefer leaders who bring their men back alive over those who grind them into the dirt just to look good. I don't see the point in wasting the time and money spent on training people just for the sake of appearances."
Raisa was silent for a long moment before she finally burst out laughing, unable to contain herself.
"Haha! That's so like you, Boss. I never thought I’d hear someone tell me that what I was condemned for was actually the right choice—and for such a pragmatic reason, no less."
"It’s common sense. Was that why you quit the knights?"
"It was part of it. I believed that if an ambush or a retreat could be used, it should be. They believed a knight should always fight head-on. After clashing with my superiors a few times, I realized I’d never have a future there."
"Hm? So you wanted to rise through the ranks?"
When I asked, Raisa looked surprised. She didn't answer immediately. On the training ground, the soldiers shifted formations at Lydia's command, one squad flowing into the place of another. Raisa watched them, resting her arms on her knees.
"...I did. Since I was a girl, I wanted to command a great army—just once. Not a hundred or two hundred men. A thousand... or maybe ten thousand. I wanted to be entrusted with a force like that, have them fight according to my judgment, win, and bring as many of them home as possible. When I first joined the order, I truly believed I could be that commander."
Raisa scratched the bridge of her nose, looking a bit sheepish.
"But a knight who ignores orders to save her men was never going to reach that height. Once I quit and became a mercenary, the most I ever led was maybe twenty men. Ten thousand was a dream within a dream."
"I see. Then start with three hundred."
"...Three hundred?"
I turned my gaze back to the training ground. I was taking exactly three hundred men to the royal capital. It was a far cry from ten thousand, but it was considerably more than she had led as a mercenary.
"You can't jump to ten thousand overnight. First, lead these three hundred and see what you can do. We can think about what comes after that... later."
Raisa’s eyes widened as she stared at me.
"Boss, d-does that mean..."
"Yeah. Obviously, you and Lydia will be the ones commanding them at the Founding Festival. I'm staying out of it."
Her eyes widened even further, though for a different reason this time.
"...You aren't going to command them, Boss?"
"Why would I? I'm ignorant of military matters. If I stepped in at the last minute after you and Lydia have spent all this time training them, I’d just be a hindrance."
In the military competition of the Founding Festival, there was no requirement for the head of the house to lead the troops personally. Usually, the person in charge of the family's knights or soldiers took the lead; it was actually rarer for the noble themselves to take the field.
"I can understand if it's an old soldier like Duke Eldran, but I'm not a warrior. It’s better to hire experts and leave the fighting to them."
"...You really don't hesitate when it comes to things like that, do you?"
"What's the point in pretending to do something I can't? That's why I'm leaving the tournament to you and Lydia. Win if you can... but if things look impossible, withdraw before the men get broken. As I said, fifth place and the prize money is more than enough for me."
Raisa didn't say anything for a moment. She simply turned back to the training ground, her eyes slowly scanning the three hundred men from one end to the other.
"...A thousand, ten thousand... and what comes after, huh?"
"We’ll worry about that after the tournament."
"Yeah... you're right. First, three hundred. I'll start by leading these guys properly."
Just as she whispered those words, Lydia approached us. Her part of the training seemed to have reached a natural break, and sweat was glistening on her forehead.
"Raisa-dono, I’ve given them a moment to rest....What were the two of you discussing?"
"Just that Raisa once dreamed of leading an army of ten thousand."
"Boss! You didn't have to just blurt it out like that!"
Raisa was uncharacteristically flustered, but rather than laughing, Lydia’s eyes widened slightly before she nodded in solemn agreement.
"Ten thousand... I think such a command would suit you perfectly, Raisa-dono."
"Good grief, not you too, Lydia..."
"I am quite serious! There are insights in your judgment, forged on the battlefield, that I could never have conceived. Of course, I don't intend to mimic everything you do... but I know that you value the lives of your soldiers above all else. I respect that deeply."
Lydia’s gaze was remarkably earnest as she looked at Raisa. I’d noticed that she had been quite sincere whenever it came to Raisa ever since she first arrived.
Given that a lady of a prestigious ducal house was naturally addressing a former mercenary with such respect, her admiration must be genuine.
"This works out well. I’ll tell you now, too: you and Raisa will be commanding the three hundred in the capital. I'll be watching from the spectator seats."
"Understood, Lord Vain. If Raisa-dono takes the vanguard, I shall oversee the formations and the messengers. That will ensure the men move with maximum efficiency."
"Yeah, I'm counting on you."
As I replied, I felt a sudden flicker of realization.
...Wait.
"Lydia... since when did you start calling me by my name?"
"Eh?"
She seemed just as surprised by the question, blinking rapidly.
"If you ask me when... I suppose it just happened naturally while I was staying here..."
"Is that so? I recall you being much more formal before."
"S-Should I revert to my previous manner of address?"
"No. Use whatever is easiest for you."
I meant it quite literally, but for some reason, Lydia averted her eyes. Beside her, Raisa’s face twisted into a sudden, mischievous grin.
"Heh... 'happened naturally,' did it?"
"Raisa-dono... what is that look for?"
"I didn't say anything, did I? Right, Boss?"
"Don't pull me into this."
I had no idea what she found so amusing.
Raisa rested her wooden sword back on her shoulder, still chuckling, while Lydia prepared to return to the troops. Before they left, Raisa turned to the training ground and took a deep, booming breath.
"Did you hear that, you lot?! Raisa and Lydia will be taking command in the capital! The Boss says fifth place is enough, but—I don't see anyone here who’s satisfied with that, do I?!"
A split second later, the roar of three hundred voices answered her in unison. I winced as the sheer volume made my ears ring.
"...Seriously, why does it always end up like this?"
It seemed they had no intention of settling for fifth place. Not just Raisa, but even Lydia—who had been perfectly calm moments ago—seemed swept up in the momentum as they prepared to dive back into training.
...The championship, huh?
"Hahaha! Surely not."
I couldn't help but laugh at the thought. Last year's winner was Duke Eldran, followed by the House of Marquis Perkin. The capital was teeming with noble houses that boasted legendary knight orders.
Our men had certainly improved, but they were still, at their core, a group of former bandits and mercenaries.
"Well, they're free to aim for the top, I suppose... Go on, then. Feel free to prove my predictions wrong."
I looked out at the training ground one last time. Looking at their faces, it was clear that not a single soldier there was planning on stopping at fifth place.