With that, the war council concluded, ending the atmosphere of tension and urgency.
The participants were dismissed, and most of the nobility departed from the royal palace, leaving only a select few behind.
"It has been a while, Clover."
"We just saw each other at the party the other day. It hasn't been that long... Lyubase."
The scene shifted to a certain tavern within the royal capital.
Having finished the war council, Rest sat across from his old comrade-in-arms. The table was round, but it was far smaller than the grand centerpiece used during the military briefing. Seated there were Rest and one other man: the Young Sword Saint, Wilhelm Lyubase.
In truth, Lyubase had also been present at the council, seated right next to Rest. He, too, had been assigned to the Advance Force for the subjugation of the foreign tribes. Since they were well-acquainted, they had naturally gravitated toward each other after the meeting and headed to the tavern together.
They were the only two in the private room. Rest’s father-in-law, Marquis Rosemary, had been summoned to a different room by His Majesty the King immediately after the council, so Rest had left the castle ahead of him.
"Deploying for war just as you were about to start managing your own territory... A noble’s life is certainly a busy one," Lyubase remarked.
"Tell me about it..." Rest agreed from the bottom of his heart.
He poured a drink into his glass, offered a toast, and took a sip.
"Yeah, this is perfect. Much better."
In Japan, Rest would have been considered a minor, but this country had no age restrictions on alcohol. The fruit wine he was drinking had a low alcohol content, making it smooth and easy on the palate.
(The difference between this and that distilled spirit is night and day... I’m sure that one was much more expensive, but still...)
He thought back to the drink he had shared with Celestine. Compared to high-proof distilled spirits, fermented fruit wine was far more approachable. It seemed Rest didn't have much of a constitution for heavy drinking. After witnessing Celestine’s legendary tolerance, the realization had truly sunk in.
(I never want to taste Spirytus again as long as I live. I really wish I could use magic to fortify my liver.)
"To be honest, I don't really need any more achievements," Rest said with a sigh after emptying half his glass. "I have enough status, land, and fiancées as it is."
Between slaying Subnock and ending the civil war, Rest had already been granted rewards that exceeded his wildest expectations. He had been looking forward to a quiet life of developing his territory with his fiancées when the call to arms arrived.
"It can't be helped. It is a warrior's duty to fight," Lyubase said, sipping his drink slowly. "We cannot turn a blind eye while our motherland is threatened by foreign enemies. It is simply time to repay the favor the Royal Family has shown us. We only need to do what must be done."
"...I envy how resolute you are," Rest muttered.
The reason he couldn't be as detached as Lyubase was undoubtedly because he had lovely fiancées waiting for him. Following the recent party, his bonds with Viola and Primula had deepened significantly. Now, he had to leave them behind to go to war. It was enough to make anyone want to complain.
(I’ll get married as soon as this war is over... No, wait. That’s a total death flag.)
"Do you have a lover or a fiancée, Lyubase?" Rest asked.
"Guh...!" Lyubase nearly choked on his wine. "Where did that come from?"
"Well, you're a Viscount now, aren't you? I figured you’d have to worry about the succession sooner or later."
"...If it comes to that, I’ll just adopt from my relatives," Lyubase snapped, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.
The Young Sword Saint, Wilhelm Lyubase, was a man of peerless skill, but he possessed a few glaring weaknesses. One of them was "women."
"So the 'Woman-hating Sword Saint' is still going strong, then? Haven't you even been offered an arranged marriage?"
"...My parents and uncle have suggested a few. But I have no interest in such things."
"I don't know, I think marriage is actually pretty great."
"A man with multiple fiancées certainly has a different perspective. You womanizer," Lyubase spat, clicking his tongue in blatant disapproval. He took another tiny sip of his wine. "In the first place, women are unnecessary on the path of the sword. To master one path is to abandon all others. Only by casting everything else aside and devoting oneself entirely can one stand at the summit."
"Right... I see?"
"Constant dripping wears away the stone, and one must never waste a single moment! A human life is far too long to spend in idleness, yet far too short to master a craft. If one seeks to reach the heights in the time they are given, they must prune away the superfluous!"
"Yeah, sure. And then?"
"Therefore, my abstinence is entirely for the sake of the sword! It is absolutely... absolutely not because I am afraid of women! Indeed, when that woman shakes those uselessly oversized breasts and acts without shame, I want to ask if she... the sword becomes a mountain!"
"..."
"Thus, for the nation's peace... I shall break my body and soul... too many boatmen climb the mountain and the old man's horse is a silver lining..."
"Lyubase... are you drunk?"
His speech was becoming slurred, and the conversation was devolving into nonsense. Rest picked up the bottle and inspected it. It was the same wine he was drinking—a fruit wine that wasn't strong by any definition.
"Are you seriously weaker than I am? You didn't seem this way at the party..."
Now that Rest thought about it, he hadn't actually seen Lyubase drink anything then. He had been holding a cocktail during the welcome, but he probably hadn't touched it. Perhaps he made it a point to abstain whenever others were around.
"In other wordsh! I'll cut down every last one of thoshe tribesmen for the kingdom! Yesh, it'sh all to repay His Majesty the King for hish kindnesh!"
"Right, right. I get it. You're absolutely right, Lyubase."
"That'sh right! I'm not wrong about anything!"
This was a development Rest hadn't seen coming. Faced with this unexpected side of his comrade, he sat there, utterly at a loss.
"A heavy drinker like Celestine is a handful, but this is a whole different kind of trouble."
After delivering a rambling, mysterious lecture for another thirty minutes, Lyubase suddenly fell asleep as if his batteries had been pulled out. Rest ended up having to carry him back to an inn, realizing then that the true terror of alcohol had nothing to do with its percentage.