Chapter 05
The Youngest Son of the Notorious Nouveau Riche Family (5)#005 The Youngest Son of the Notorious Nouveau Riche Family (5)
"Hahaha, it's a relief that things went smoother than expected."
On the way back, after unloading a large amount of cargo, Dorf was beaming like a salesman who had just closed a major deal. He held a piece of rather luxurious-looking parchment that seemed relatively untouched by time, which he claimed was a copy of the secret techniques from the Boldwin family.
"Even though it's called a secret technique, it’s basically knowledge on handling magic. Some prestigious families with centuries of history have unique secret techniques that only their bloodline can use, but other than those, it's just a type of knowledge. Sharing it doesn’t make it disappear. Getting enough food to feed the estate's people for ten years in exchange is a great deal."
Comparing infinitely replicable knowledge to tangible assets could indeed be seen as advantageous. Ignoring the pride of the nobles and the advantage of monopolizing unknown knowledge, of course.
‘In that sense, the empire's approach to nationalizing most secret techniques and establishing institutions to research and develop them is unique.’
When knowledge is secretly passed down within a family, it has the advantage of keeping countermeasures hidden from opponents.
However, since only a few people are involved, unless an exceptional genius emerges to improve the techniques, development is extremely slow.
There’s a reason why the empire has ruled as the hegemon for decades.
“But aren’t you worried? We seem to have made some serious enemies.”
“Hahaha, no need to worry, Master Chrome. Lord Boldwin is a wise man.”
Dorf smiled slyly.
“As you saw earlier, they can’t touch us. If they cut off our food supply, their people will starve, and the estate’s army, barely holding together, will fall apart.”
“What about asking the royal family or other noble families for help?”
“The new royal family isn’t on good terms with the noble families loyal to the old royal family. Other noble families cooperating with the new royal family won’t move, and those close to the old royal family are too preoccupied or not foolish enough to get involved in something unprofitable. The only possibility might be the remnants of the anti-empire faction.”
But, Dorf added,
“If they take such a step, the Boldwin family would be branded as traitors and terrorists. The new royal family would have the pretext to send their regular army to crush them. That kind-hearted lord isn’t one to gamble like that.”
“Hmm.”
While Dorf’s points were logical, something felt off.
Rationally, Dorf wasn’t wrong.
However,
‘If people were that rational and logical, the world wouldn’t be in such a mess.’
Magic or not, this is still a place where people live. So, it wouldn’t be much different here.
“Hey, Dorf. Just in case, order strict vigilance around us—”
-Screeech!!!
-Enemy attack!
...Dammit.
“These bastards!! Who the hell are these scumbags?!”
“…!”
The scene outside the carriage wasn’t favorable.
The visible number of attackers was slightly over ten, but with the narrow path flanked by dense bushes, the true number was unknown. The coachman and porters, having seen one of their own fall with a fountain of blood from his neck, were too terrified to fight.
The masked attackers moved swiftly and precisely. The Brown Wolf Mercenaries, led by Clark, were fighting back, but except for Clark himself, the mercenaries were struggling against the attackers.
These attackers were skilled enough to overwhelm a veteran mercenary group head-on.
Even with their faces covered, their precise movements gave them away. Identifying the attackers was easy.
“Fools…!! What’s the point of attacking us now?!”
One of Dorf’s bodyguards asked him urgently.
“Mr. Dorf, what should we do?”
Dorf, assessing the thinness of the attackers’ blockade, responded quickly.
“Focus on breaking through! We need to get out of here first!”
“Wait—”
Ignoring my frustration, the bodyguards quickly jumped onto the coachman's seat and the passenger compartment of the carriage, starting the carriage. The masked attackers tried to block us, but the bodyguards' thrown knives and stones temporarily held them back, allowing us to break through.
I could hear the workers and mercenaries shouting as we sped away, but the carriage didn’t stop.
“Stop the carriage now!!!”
“We can’t worry about those left behind right now! We need to get out of the forest path first—”
I shouted at Dorf, who was trying to reason with me like I was an ignorant child.
“You idiot! Why would they leave such a gap in their encirclement if they were targeting us?!”
Right then, a heavy impact threw me into the air.
The world spun, and I heard horses neighing and the sound of something breaking.
Thunk!
“Ugh!”
Dorf, who had been acting as a human cushion between me and the overturned carriage roof, let out a wheezing scream, but thanks to him, I was unscathed.
One of the bodyguards had fallen awkwardly and lay with his neck twisted at an odd angle, while the other clutched his left ankle, writhing in pain, likely from a fracture.
Dorf, the least injured, seemed unconscious despite my slaps to his cheek.
“Damn it…!”
Cursing, I crawled through the half-open carriage door. At the edge of the forest path, I saw a thick rope stretched at the height of an adult man’s knee.
Whether it was a plan from the start or a contingency trap, we had fallen for it.
The bodyguards who had been on the coachman’s seat were now lying on the ground with knives in their throats, and one remaining attacker was staring at me.
Three against one was tough enough. Three was insane.
Isn’t this where one guy is supposed to stay behind and get taken down by the protagonist's unexpected attack?
As fear and anxiety froze my brain, I filled it with idle thoughts to keep calm. One of the masked attackers spoke.
“Don’t do anything foolish and stay still.”
I responded incredulously.
“Even a worm will squirm when trodden on. Why would I quietly let myself be caught by someone coming to kill me?”
“…A foul-mouthed brat.”
The man continued,
“Unlike the others, you have value as a hostage. Cooperate, and your life will be spared.”
“Hostage, huh.”
I pondered his words.
A hostage situation only works if the hostage is valuable. I might be worth a decent ransom, but would the family head comply? I doubted it.
He’d probably think he could have another child.
Besides, who’s to say he’s telling the truth? If I approach, they could stab me from behind, and I’d be dead in my second life.
No one knows if there’s a third chance.
So, my response was clear.
“Are you planning to switch careers from future lord to kidnapper?”
The man flinched. I didn’t miss the momentary hesitation. I dashed into the dense forest.
The sound of a blade cutting through the air and something hitting the ground near my ear made it burn briefly.
No time to check my wounds or look back.
I could only hope the dense forest favored my smaller frame. A well-nourished body meant healthy, but it also meant I lacked stamina. I hadn’t run far before I was gasping for breath, my heart pounding.
No commands or curses from behind, but I heard leaves and twigs crunching underfoot. The race was between reuniting with the others in the forest or being caught first.
Thud.
“…!!!”
I tripped over a protruding root.
No time for a proper fall. I rolled and crashed back-first into a large tree. No human cushion this time, the impact was intense.
I tried to stand, but my limbs wouldn’t respond, twitching as if electrified. I saw the attacker approaching through the foliage.
His mask was torn, likely scratched by branches, and his cheek was bleeding. He didn’t stop as he drew his sword.
Damn, they didn’t plan on keeping me alive after all.
Just as I despaired at being tricked.
Rustle, someone stepped in front of the man.
A girl with brown eyes and shoulder-length brown hair tied back. The youngest member of the mercenary group stood silently, head bowed.
“….”
The man hesitated, lowering his sword slightly.
From my vantage point, I saw what happened next. The girl stomped on the man’s foot with her sword sheath.
Crunch.
As he reflexively lifted his injured foot, she kicked his other ankle hard.
Crack.
The man fell, losing balance, and the girl’s blade was already waiting at his throat.
Slash.
Three moves.
With just three attacks, the girl killed a man much larger than herself, wiping the blood from her hair as she turned to me.
Watching her, I remembered a particular template’s background.
[He/she didn’t know their parents.
A young orphan from the slums, few helped, and he/she never encountered such luck.
But he/she had talent. An innate ability to understand and wield any weapon, combined with exceptional physical prowess.
He/she entered the mercenary world, honing their skills quietly in the harsh environment.]
“Waiting for the day to soar.”
One of the most popular protagonists among players for high adaptability and strong combat skills.
'The Nameless War Ghost' was staring at me.