Sweet Reincarnation

southern part of the Kingdom of the Divine Kingdom of Praurich.

The vast plains and the rich countryside of the farmland make up the general scenery of the region.

This fruitful land is a barn zone, also known as the granary of the Kingdom of God, where, in small and large numbers, about three hundred aristocrats ruled their respective territories. One of them is Count Ratesh territory.

Count Ratesh's territory is a frontier facing the sea between the East and the South, respectively. It is also located at the southern tip of the country, and if it is a further frontier than here, it will leave only two knights and two barons to the west.

There are more than fifty villages in the territory and about four towns that are central to them, and furthermore, the territorial capital that sums it all up is connected in the streets with each other. Anyone who is an aristocrat of the Kingdom of God knows that he is a kingdom of fingerprints in the South.

Besides, on the southern border, it also serves as a relay point for logistics using shipping, and there are also active commercial cities that deal with foreign countries. Regardless, the end point of the streets stretching from the territorial capital to the sea has become a port town, and today and everywhere, loading and unloading takes place in cities.

Eight days by carriage to continue south on the streets along the sea from the Wang capital Beauvaldia. Eight days by carriage to go southeast bypassing a vast forest called the Devil's Forest from there. Count from the king's capital, there is the realm capital of Count Ratesh territory, Rateshbal, at a distance of approximately half a month by carriage.

The city is about two square kilometers in size and has a population of 10,000, with canals in the city dividing east and west and finely dividing north and south in several tributaries.

Many wagons traveled to and from the streets every day, and in comparison, the Territorial Capital showed a busy appearance.

A vast array of wheat fields and forests surround the city, separating the farmland from the city, so that stone walls can be built. And another wall will be built to separate the city from the wall.

In such a city, if asked about the biggest building, everyone points to one of the city's tallest hills and answers: That's the castle.

The most prominent building in the city is its castle, and if you're in the city, you won't like it.

The walls of the castle are of course stone built. On top of that, it is now winter seasonal pattern is pulled out, but a moat is being dug to keep the water strained.

It would be unique on the border to have strong and rigorous preparations not only for the city walls, but also for the castle.

It is a prominent castle wherever you are in the city, so I would like to go inside once and for all if you are a person who has come to this town.

But normally, that's not the right thing to do.

Because everything from the walls inside is treated like a private space for lords and their families.

It was the other day that a single letter arrived at the castle showing such aristocratic power in various ways. The sender of the letter came from a certain knight lord.

That's why today's castle was looking different.

"Hey, the castle gate's open."

"Oh, I wonder what it is."

A guard knight uncommonly finds the castle gate open.

When you see a gate that is usually tightly closed for security reasons and a bounce bridge being unloaded for digging, you can tell there is something.

When the main entrance opens, it is time for extra guests to come, festivals, lords to take large numbers out, or else go to battle.

While I'm on the lookout, I think it would be nice if it weren't for the fight, because my colleague died the other day after bandit exorcism.

Even when it comes to knights of guardianship, they are, to be precise, the superior squire. The Count has given me a salary that's not cheap and I'm allowed to ride a horse, but my status is jury.

There was so much I didn't know with them that I didn't even know why the bridge was down.

"You guys, what are you messing with? What happened to the lookout?"

"Oh, Captain. I've just been looking around at the back now. No abnormalities. But why would someone who's also the captain be here?

"That, could it be war?

The men who approached the gate as they spoke found a familiar face there.

Captain of the first division, who hits our own boss. He is also the chief squire who keeps more than eight hundred squires. Even though he is a squire, if he also becomes as rich a territory as Count Ratesh's territory, the squire chief has more gold and power than a lousy nobleman. Even in Count Ratesh's territory, a man with a finger fold is at the gate.

It is also natural that the war, etc. has come to an early end, and only a bitter laugh is returned without being blamed.

"No, I'm not. Actually, they're coming today. Your Excellency tells you to keep your soldiers in line with the threat, because there are things that are going to come around a little while back."

"Oh, so the castle gate was open? Then we'll go back around."

"Right. No, just fine, tell all second and third platoons to line up at the gate on the arm. Hurry up."

"Ha, roger. Platoon two, Platoon three, will tell you to line up at the gate on top of your arms."

"Uhm."

If you look at the repetition of the order and the attitude at that time, you will still know that it is well trained.

Repeat with upright immobilization like a core in your spine and run straight for a small run.

If winter were to be near, the wind would be cold.

The open gate carries more cold than entering and exiting through the passageway. The squire shook and shivered as he looked around the streets beneath his eyes.

During the small hour when the forged squire chief endures the cold, people gather together. Are there nearly a hundred people in all? For some reason, a group of fifty people was separated, but they all looked the same.

Wear a beautifully polished armor with a decorated sheath at the waist. I haven't even worn a helmet yet, and my dizziness holds a stunning helmet around my waist.

An armed group that looks strong to see.

They are infantry regiments in Count Ratesh territory.

The squire under Count Ratesh operates in twelve platoons. Operating as a cavalry from time to time, the twelfth platoon is composed of fifty people each, headed by the first platoon, which also serves as a shorthand.

Now gathered in front of the gate are the second and third platoons. He is the proud elite unit of Count Ratesh.

"Align them all!!

The squire chief shouts.

Soldiers responding to that voice with stiff movements. The eyes of the squadron captain, who saw each platoon leading each captain into seven rows of columns in a few moments, were harsh.

"Dotted."

The voices of the squad members are simultaneously summoned and the absence is confirmed.

"All right, 2nd Squad!!

"All right, 3rd Squad!!

"Uhm."

Make sure everyone is in place, and the squire head starts talking when he nods gently.

"We welcome our guests today. Two in advance contact. One of them is Sir Mortairn."

Ooh, the twist runs.

"Quiet. The other is with Sir Mortairn's son. I welcome these two today. But don't imitate the Lord's flag with mud. Look, I'm gonna show you the beauty of our army."

"" Yes ""

"All right, keep it up then. Rest."

Along with the noise, the soldiers in line open their feet about shoulder-width apart.

Keep your chest up, but your hands are on your back. It became somewhat easier than when it was immovable.

Even though I say they line up nicely, the order in which they line up is closer to seniority.

Even though they line up in order of strength, the difference in the season is still significant. Inevitably, it will be said that it is the young people who line up behind them.

If the young people are lined up in the rear, it's a sight everywhere for young people to talk to each other about hissohisso for as long as they're away from the great ones.

"Hey, Lord Mortairn. Oh, you mean that neck hunter."

"Oh. That famous ghost (Phantom)? I wonder what he's like."

"My eyes must be gleaming and I must be hysterical. If your face is blue and white, it looks like it."

"No, no. I hear you hunted over 300 necks in the Wang Du defense. He could be twice the height of a man."

In fact, he is in close shape to the middle back of the middle meat, even though he is working out and tight, and there are five necks he hunted in the battle that defended Wang Du. Moreover, even though he suddenly boarded the quarters, he has defeated them on top of his formal dueling manoeuvres, so his neck was later cut by another human to prove the result.

Still rumors come with tails and backbones. Is it still the case that on the losing side, for example, it is sometimes rumored to be like a living demon?

"There, what are you wasting your mouth on"

"" Ha, sorry!!

Young people aren't educated at all these days. When I was younger, I was a little more moderate.

That's what the two platoon captains all thought, but they must have laughed with their noses if there were an earlier squire captain or something to know when they were younger.

"Hmm?"

One of the crew members notices a strange feeling around everyone's feelings, even if they don't want to.

It was a change that everyone would notice not so long ago.

Slightly airy movement. Changes that distort distant landscapes, like the solar flame that you often see on hot summer days.

But now the season is true opposite. If it's late fall, it can't be overheating. If so, what is the identity of this pneumonia?

Slightly, the distortion is shadowed.

Tensions ran with the Count's army in a shadow far greater than man's.

It sounds sharp and sharp.

A man who realizes that it is the foot sound of a horse that has chewed his hoof, searches for the Lord of Sound. Whatever, should it be, or should it be surprising? It was the distortion that made the noise.

What was there, instead of something like a Yangtze that was gone at some point. No, what was there was a knight across the horse.

Everyone here knew the magic knight (Magic Knight) of [Momentary Move] by rumor. It is only surprising to see the magic for the first time.

There were two horses who showed up.

One head rides beautifully dressed in a fine military uniform. Though slightly taller than average, the body is tightened to see if it is stretched out, and there is an atmosphere that attracts people somewhere along with a firm face.

Perhaps it was this man, the famous Knight of Mortairn, everyone in the line thought.

Because it was obviously a child who was on the other horse. The child also attracts the eye with a different meaning than the knight.

A face that seems like a girl. But the outfit itself is a politely tailored man's courtesy. The bluish-looking outfit has a three-dimensional feel in line with the skinny nature of childhood. As the length is perfectly aligned, there is no wonder that it is said to be upper class.

Beautiful, unconventional, blue silver hair was gently flushed, and the fact that the forehead was lightly cut together highlighted the youthfulness.

Paste an innocent grin on your proficient face and manipulate the horse. Everyone is convinced that this child is the son of Sir Knight because the feeling of the two nostrils on the horse looks just like whoever sees it.

In a different way than Sir Knight himself, he creates a charm that attracts people in a cute way.

Two eye-catching people move together.

I get off in a streamlined move I know I'm trained, and a man opens his mouth where the boy is slightly more in line with the man.

"Mortairn family owner, Casserole-Mil-Morthern. I have crossed the line wanting to meet His Excellency Briosh-Salgret-Mille Ratesh. I'd like you to come by the gate."

Align your feet, stand with your spine extended, and place your right hand on the sword pattern once before placing it in front of your chest.

The right palm grips and the thumb side is lightly placed against the left chest. Its posture is a salute given to those in sight by the knight of the aristocratic class.

As a tribute to the nobility, the practice of paying homage, followed by the most salute to the king.

If you don't repay me, I'll be rude.

The man who was in front of a regiment of Count Ratesh's army is the squire chief.

Immediately, after placing your hand on your chest in the same manner, break one knee and kneel. It is a common courtesy for a non-noble class squire to take against the nobility.

"My Lord Mortairn, I've been waiting for you. By the life of the Lord, I will guide you now."

After stating his mouth, try to match the movement of the risen squire chief, and the regiment cracks left and right.

A move so aligned that I feel that this is what it would be like to be undisturbed.

A path made by soldiers. Behind the man who walks to lead, Casserole and Pastry continue to walk.

The heavy pressure I feel from the unspeakable soldiers, standing to the left and right, my legs clasp if I am a man in line.

For example, being held by the opposite sex and being flat is difficult if you are not quite accustomed to the opposite sex by overlapping your love history, so that you can be flat with the temper of the experience of killing people is limited to quite a few people who are accustomed to the training ground.

It is hard for unfamiliar humans to walk in front of a beast that could die if bitten, no matter how much they know it is chained.

The squire chief noticed.

It is understandable that Sir Mortairn, a knight, can remain flat. There is no wonder there because he is a fierce man with a valiant name.

But my son is equally flat again.

As a boy who is not yet old enough, he is clearly unnatural.

The squire leads the two to the castle, feeling somewhere uncomfortable.

The regiment, which was lined up with the intention of threatening, was also a little dismayed that it was apparently ineffective, but there was no gift of experience or putting it on the table.

"This way."

Parents and children were guided to a room in the castle.

The end of the large hall proceeded to the right from the hall that entered the front entrance. The door, which was quite large, had decorations imitating bulls. Pastry finally realized that the ornament was a door knocker, in the step of knocking on the door.

Concon and the bull roar with a sound that sounds good.

"Dear Hall, I have brought His Excellency Mortairn"

I want you to come here right away.

In response from inside, the door opens, making a slightly murmuring noise.

If two visitors let me in when they told me to go ahead, a smile awaited for both of them.

A couch that looks so luxurious that it cannot be compared to a couch in the Lords' Palace on Mortaire territory. Encouraged to sit down after showing thanks, the sitting casserole and pastry parents and children calmly observe the men “in front of them.

There are three in front of me. One knows that he is the man who guided me and the chief squire.

If so, it will mean that either of the two remaining are aristocrats with countenance.

One is a man who feels slightly past his grandeur and middle-aged. I feel like I can do my job to see it. Because of its considerable style, I can ask that it would have stepped on quite a few places.

And the other is a woman in her late twenties and early thirties.

I know who the lord is.

"You've come well. It's an honor to meet the distinguished Lord Mortairn."

Regardless, women are more lords.

Although Pais is not surprised because he heard it beforehand, it is common sense that female lords are extremely rare. If you are bad, it is the nobility who holds the sword at the forefront of the battle. It is quite unusual for a woman to hold that position.

Briosh-Salgret-Mille Ratesh is the eldest daughter of an earlier Lord Ratesh. Because the predecessors and successors died prematurely in the war, and the boys who were the grandchildren of the predecessors were dairy drinkers, until their children became adults, they were women who held the position of lords.

The nephew's son also died of illness and continues to this day.

"Thank you for your time."

"No. Oh, we trade tea at home. We have the finest stuff available. Please do not hesitate and enjoy."

"Ho, this is frightening. Yeah, it tastes good. Speaking of Ratesh tea, do you think that even Wang Capital has a name? That's a rumor."

"I'm glad you complimented me. I heard Sir was coming, and it was worth getting him ready."

He was Count Ratesh, who laughed elegantly with Jojo, but the boulder was the upper nobleman. I am familiar with the fact that trivialities can be linked to major achievements in the negotiating arena. Not only did he not create a gap in his standing behavior, but his eyes carefully observed two visitors.

A forged observation eye. His eyes closed to one suspicious point.

We should have prepared the best tea, but for some reason Sir Mortairn's son looks strange.

If the tea doesn't fit your mouth, you'll look sinister, and if it's your first time drinking, it'll be a surprise face. It was strange that you looked strange.

but lidded the question that this time the negotiator was not a boy, but a parent.

"Speaking of Mortaire territory, you're famous for the arms that enriched that wilderness. Sir is not only a martial name, but also a good ruler. The more familiar you are with agriculture, the more you would like a professor. Ho ho."

"Thank you. But that's overrated. It's all because of the hand of my son that my territory is able to provide for some people. I'm not a big deal."

"Oh, be modest. I (myself) and others can only maintain my territory, but I wonder how humble it is not to be proud of the hands that have enriched your territory. Your son would also be proud to be a father like Sir. Hey?"

If you were a normal person, you wouldn't believe that a child who is not even ten years old is leading the way in territorial reform, etc., Casserole laughs bitterly.

Even I'm determined to think it's a joke if I'm in their shoes.

Finally, with his son talking to him, he hardens himself when it's the real deal from here on out.

"Yes, I'm proud of my father, too. We owe our development, for one thing, to our father"

"Yes, I suppose so."

My father prides himself, around which the nose of the casserole swells slightly.

Count Ratesh and the chief squire standing beside him realise it and reinforce the thought that he is still a pro moron.

But they forgot.

That the person we are talking to is not Sir Mortairn, but the child.

And that they're observing themselves again.

"But the other day, the unsuccessful man pushed me to the territory my father had painstakingly raised. It was a bunch of bandits made up of hundreds of people, and I managed to push them back, but I also took my sword and fought for it."

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I was. That would be great. You already fulfilled your duty as a nobleman that year, so I'd like you to let our family apprentice you."

Wolf.

Originally, there should be no wolf in the negotiating arena.

It is a confessional act if you have a disease, so it is mentioned that you should never do it.

Count Ratesh and his bellies were desperate to hide the thought that he had been cut out and wolfed by a child who was utterly alert.

First, I accepted the story without having to correct the mistake in the number of thieves.

In a negotiating setting with no evidence, it was visible that if we negotiated on the assumption of the other person's story, we would be at a disadvantage.

"Of the thieves caught, I spoke a little forcefully because of my eyeballs… Apparently, this thief was originally from here in Ratesheval."

"Oh, that's my first ear. Is that true?"

Still, it is probably because Count Ratesh has stepped on the number of places to negotiate that he has rebuilt his upset in just a few moments.

I immediately considered the possibility of being a hatchet and showed it softly as being my first ear.

"If you suspect, we are prepared to give you some of the thieves. There will also be reports to the Royal Family, so your assistant will look into them."

Let's not blur, Count, who feels an unpleasant sign in Pace's mouth when he says otherwise.

If you tell me you have proof, it's hard to get rid of it.

"Well, then let's talk about it as right. 'Cause we destroyed the thieves who were ravaging our territory, and their survival may have escaped."

"Count, that's a funny story. The thief says, 'We moved after we left our crusade in the Count's territory'. If your house destroyed the thief, what the hell did the thief fight?"

"Come on, I don't know that. In the first place, there is no basis for our devastated thief and your thief to be the same thief."

"The head of the thief used a sword with the Count's crest on it."

It was the Count's squire who accidentally put his power into the grip. Initially, this is an action to be avoided because it would be detrimental to the negotiating party, but there are other aspects to this.

A bandit used a sword with an aristocratic crest. That is to say, it was taken away by the earlier crusade. If it is a sword taken, it is extremely likely that it belongs to a murdered subordinate.

The face of the murdered subordinate came to mind, and there was strength in his hands on it.

Guess that, Casserole nods gently at the squire chief.

Don't worry about it, it means. I figured out what that meant later.

"From these things, as an owner, I believe your crusade has failed. And as a result, it is our position that the land was attacked by bandits."

"That's... that's hard to understand."

When he was hit, Count Ratesh had the thought of biting his teeth.

Even though he had lined up soldiers for intimidation and had several cards available to take the lead in the negotiations, he took the flow to his opponent shortly after using it.

It is a sobering assessment to say that the bandit's crusade was a three- and seven-minute success, which is secretly concluded.

I was going to push a third of the way up to keep my face, but they rang a seven-minute nonsense first. From now on, where I've been insisting, the bad part will only sound like an excuse.

"Regardless, I also understand the position of His Excellency the Count. As a homemaker, I wouldn't dare make a scene here that it's a failure."

"Oh, I appreciate that."

To unexpected words, now an elderly female nobleman who speaks vegan and surprising words.

After all, because we thought it was something we were going to demand of him, using our own nonsense as a material.

In this case, our own nonsense is the decency of crusade failure. Nobility owns territory and takes taxes as nobility because it can fight when it comes to need. It's a good disgrace, such as uselessness that doesn't even rival thieves. Worst of all, it could be a title takeover.

The sense of crisis is that Count Ratesh, a woman, is stronger. After all, I don't rely on female principals, because they might say.

Who made the bandit crusade a success?

Did the Counts crusade and the remnants flee to other territories? Or was the Count family failing and crusaded in other territories? In a decent sense, it's as if it's going to be different.

I don't make a fuss about that being a failure. In other words, the Counts admit that they have crusaded.

From the Count's point of view, the best result.

"We are being vandalized by thieves. He was a pretty strong opponent, even though he was a" remnant. "

"I guess. But they preserved the kingdom, and fulfilled the nobility's true self. Nice."

"Thank you. But even though the remnants of the party, they were former County thieves. If you take care of the neighborhood and give us His Excellency's warmth, we don't want to make things any worse as a homeowner."

"Warmth, huh? How about we take over the thief for what he deserves?

"They are already criminals, who have fallen into slavery status. Whatever the value, I'll give it to you, and you may only tell our story to the royal investigator. We're ready for that."

It is a white exchange.

If you want to scratch it and sum it up, it is a suggestion that the Mortairns take the fruit and the Ratesh take the name.

I will shut the others up about the Count's failure. Instead, the exchange is that thieves who are evidence of the failure of the bandit crusade can be retrieved at a high price.

"Okay. The Count will take your thieves and more for a hundred pieces of Ratesh gold coins. Instead, as head of household, I express my regret at the conduct of the remnants of the party. What do you say?

"My lord, I'm afraid you're warm, but would you mind taking a little more account of our damage?

"I don't think you're a child...... that would be good. So, what about one hundred and thirty?

"I want another voice."

"One hundred and fifty"

"I thought it would be fine. Is that okay with you, Father?

"Oh, that's good"

Here, Count Ratesh was clearly aware of the discomfort in himself.

Originally, the negotiating partner should have been Sir Mortairn, an adult. But the fact that at some point, I saw the child as the subject of negotiations.

This child is not the only one.

You should take this opportunity to know who they are.

Count Ratesh renews his thoughts while signing two parchments with the contract details on them.

After checking the contents on both sides, the squire leaves the room to pick up the money.

"Well, now I've finished my contract... oh, speaking of which, you hadn't even asked for your son's name yet"

"This, my lord, is late. Casserole-Mill-Mortellen is the son. My name is Pastry. Stay tuned."

"Of course, we want to have a good relationship in the future. By the way, you leaned your neck when you had tea earlier. Was there anything strange about our tea?

"No. It was a very good cup of tea. However, the sweetness of the sweetness added or subtracted from the accompanying sweets seems slightly excessive. Because I thought it would be normal to reduce the sweetness of these baked treats a little bit more. Oh, of course this was delicious, too."

"Well, your mouth is getting fat."

Mortairn territory was a rural territory, a small territory and a slum.

In terms of the extent of tracing there, it is impossible to say how many aristocratic children you can consume frequently, sweet things. Count Ratesh felt that the identity of this boy in front of him had been grasped.

No, rightly, I'm beginning to see that it's not normal, I should say.

This boy can eat enough to understand the delicate taste of baked confectionery. That's terribly unnatural.

Perhaps Mortarn territory has something to hide. If it's like even one of the Golden Mountains is hidden, I can also understand the fact that this boy's mouth is fat. But if you are luxurious with your hidden possessions.

Sooner or later, this knight's territory needs to be examined in detail. Even if I just figured that out, isn't it worth more than the gold coin I paid?

Count Ratesh had such thoughts behind the grin of his mouth.

After a while, the squire chief came back with the leather bag in his hand.

From the way it's swelling, I can tell there's obviously a lot of money in it.

"Well, check it out."

"Ten, twenty...... one hundred and fifty, indeed. We'll bring the thief and his belongings to you within ten days."

"Yeah, that was a good deal."

The Earl shakes hands with the knight. Keep it up, shake hands with the boy, too.

Which will be Keyman in the future. A lord with a brave name and magic, and a talented son. I really want to stay close to both of them.

I finished shaking hands and it was time for the Knight Sir parents and children to leave the room.

"Oh, speaking of which, I didn't even bring a souvenir. Thank you for the delicious tea and sweets, take this... [Transcript]"

I give you the extra parchment I used when I signed the contract.

There was a painting of Count Ratesh's face as seen in the mirror.

She could not tell how many times the boy would be stunned by the way he had acted.