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Hunting or extermination for nobles doesn’t just end as a mere pastime.

Securing resources and maintaining order go hand in hand.

Establishing social connections and networks with the summoned vassals and subordinates.

Generally, a noble’s hunt focuses on the latter, but the hunts led by Gordon, the current ruler of Baron Bolton’s Territory, were primarily aimed at the former.

The aftermath of the Grizzly Beaver flood left scars on the territory even after the situation was resolved.

There was a territorial dispute for the territory previously occupied by monsters, with monsters and beasts fighting for dominance, causing instability in public order.

To address this, Gordon ambitiously hired adventurers and, on top of that, led his subordinates to exterminate monsters daily.

Furthermore, it resulted from an eager wife wishing to help her husband and unexpected assistance from outside.

As a result, at least some degree of safety could be secured in the village and nearby areas along the roads.

“Ugh, my shoulders ache. I won’t be able to do this for a while.”

“Tell me about it. It’s been a solid week of mucking around—”

Some of the knights and soldiers being dragged along muttered. The rewards were assured, but if one was too busy to use those rewards, it was only natural for complaints to arise.

“What? Hey, you guys! From tomorrow, Marcus won’t be hunting anymore!”

However, most of the current knights and soldiers comprising Baron Bolton’s territory were former mercenaries, and they didn’t share that sentiment.

With their mercenary instincts still intact, they were happy about the money.

“Is it tough? Get some rest! We’ll hunt for you! Of course, we’ll take our share as payment!”

“Hey! It’s just my shoulders that are sore! Who’s resting here!”

After finishing the hunt and returning to the castle, the knights and soldiers began to bicker. Gordon, who was listening to this from the very front of the caravan, shook his head, seemingly unable to quell them.

“These soldiers are fine, but what’s up with the knights, seriously?”

“Is that something the chief should say?”

“What did I say?”

Leading the wagon filled with the day’s catch, Gordon passed through the village and returned to Armsport Keep, all while scolding the bickering soldiers and knights.

“I won’t let go until you grant it, Your Grace!”

“It’s ripping! It’s ripping, I tell you!”

Shen was squirming on the floor, trying to either pull down Karem’s pants, who was at the front with Flora, or tear them apart. Nearby, Robelio was attempting to intervene while Sigurd IV and Mary tried to calm Catherine.

“What should we do, chief?”

“Just do as we always do. Half goes to the territory’s warehouse, and the rest you can share among yourselves.”

“Okay! Let’s go, guys!”

Dismounting, Gordon handed the reins to the senior knight for cleanup and approached the chaotic scene laid out before him.

“Sir/Madam Mage, I know you’re upset about your lover’s chastity being endangered, but no magic, please.”

“Who said anything about breaking down the castle?”

Catherine’s gaze, turned from Shen to Gordon, flashed like a wild beast, leaving behind a blue tail.

“I have many questions, but did you hire that person?”

“Thanks to Flora.”

“Then I should quickly detach that damned high-class Bersengzeto before I do something regrettable.”

“Well, please wait a moment.”

With a shrug, Gordon strode quickly. Karem, holding onto his pants, felt Flora’s expression brighten from behind him.

“Gordon! Long time no see!”

“Yeah. Yeah. Just hold on a sec.”

Replying casually, Gordon grabbed Shen by the nape and released her like a slack cat, dropping her onto the ground.

“Shen. Let’s call it a day for now.”

“Milord, of course I know. It’s a shame, but that was the contract.”

“Yeah, yeah. Go play with some tree spirit wandering in the nearby woods or something.”

Shen lightly curtsied while holding her dress. As the threat of departing dignity left, Karem exhaled deeply.

“You should have come a bit earlier.”

“What do you think I have to do? I actually got here quite early today.”

“You should have arrived sooner. I almost tore my pants.”

“Well, I did protect your chastity. So, worry not.”

Brushing aside the gentle ribbing, Gordon turned and opened his arms. As Flora hugged him tightly, he patted her head.

“Sir/Madam Mage, it’s been a while. Mary, Karem. You too. And Sigurd!”

“More importantly, you rascal, Gordon! It’s nice to see you, but I have one question.”

Sigurd IV filled his cup with beer and raised an eyebrow at Flora.

“Is your father-in-law really this young human?”

“Well, Flora thinks of Karem as her daddy.”

“Porong♪!”

With that, Flora, clinging to Gordon, peeked around and vigorously nodded, sending Sigurd IV’s eyes into a stunned shock, leading him to gulp his beer down.

‘Well, that’s to be expected.’

A twelve-year-old braggadocious about being the father of such a big beauty.

It wouldn’t do for Karem to recite the entire ecology of Dryads.

Gordon, whose back was slapped by Flora, the one who wouldn’t have believed it if he weren’t involved, was now lightly poked by Gordon.

“Alright, let’s not linger here. Let’s show our guests to their rooms.”

“Directly? Didn’t you say you were busy?”

“It’s not like I’m so busy I can’t welcome guests because of a pretty girl and Shen.”

Waving off any concern, he merely gestured to Robelio.

“So, Robelio, move the wagon to the stables later.”

“Chief, or rather, my Lord. I’m a butler now, do I have to move it myself?”

“Then should I move the wagon?”

“Not me, but the subordinates-”

At that, Robelio suddenly realized.

Gordon, who had gone hunting, always returned with several wagons filled with the monsters, beasts, and animals he had hunted. This meant that all the servants and vassals of Armsport had to assist with the butchering.

“Ah, wait. Separate my beer wagon.”

The largest building in the courtyard led by Sigurd IV, Armsport Keep, was the most quaint of the castles Karem had seen up close. Nevertheless, it had all that was necessary.

“It’s a bit small and cozy.”

“Heh, hey. This is a standard castle.”

Gordon chuckled in disbelief at Karem’s honest impression.

“Winterhome is abnormally gigantic! It could fit an entire small city!”

“Um, Winchester Castle in Bendleig seemed similar.”

“Hey, that’s a castle! And your lord is the Duke of Iceland!”

Next to him, Sigurd IV interjected sharply.

“The Beolseong Family’s stronghold is even larger than those two examples.”

“That’s because it’s a fortress city carved from a whole rock mountain!”

“Isn’t our family not the only one doing that?”

“There are plenty of stone cities like Pafnirgrabe in Eisenbart!”

“Well… even if there are a lot, it’s still not too many.”

“There you go! There’s barely anything on that enormous land!”

It seemed that the two were such close friends they would meet even in the most remote corners of Europa. The echoes of their playful bickering signaled this friendship.

“Catherine sister.”

“What is it?”

“I think I understand why you maintain that title.”

“Have I not told you numerous times?”

As Catherine’s words suggested, the noble dignity that was supposed to come naturally had long been carelessly tossed aside by years of mercenary experience.

No, it might not have even existed from the very beginning.

“If it weren’t for Iceland, it wouldn’t matter.”

Listening to Catherine, Karem absentmindedly patted Flora’s head, who had come closer.

“Iceland has a particularly strong disregard for the dignity of nobility compared to other regions.”

“Does the environment shape a person?”

“Right. People act differently depending on the environment they live in.”

In other regions, if one lacked the proper dignity and attitude as a noble and merely had strength, they would either be exploited or looked down upon.

Because that’s just how it is.

Due to Iceland’s unique meritocracy, Gordon, a former mercenary, had at least learned the minimum courtesy expected of a noble family, and since all of his subordinates were also former mercenaries, the vicious cycle only repeated itself.

“Anyway, welcome to Armsport Keep.”

As the guards opened the castle’s gates, Gordon theatrically twirled around and gestured inside. Flora, running after him awkwardly, highlighted her curvaceous figure.

“Stop with the useless antics. Just show us the rooms.”

“You little? The host is just trying to make a good impression.”

“Aren’t you getting any housewarming gifts?”

“This way!”

Gordon, leading the guests, and Flora both wore seemingly excited expressions. It made sense. Boasting about this level of success to a friend would surely feel good anywhere.

“Heh, the brat who was rolling around the bottom has come this far.”

Sigurd IV, who had been grumbling, nodded in agreement as if he understood that sentiment.

‘Flora, Flora.’

Flora also followed suit, looking even more delighted as she radiated a radiant smile.

“Sigurd, the best room should go to Sir/Madam Mage.”

“Well, that’s unavoidable.”

“But instead, you’ll be given the next best guest room.”

“If I have to go up the stairs—”

“By the way, it’s on the first floor.”

Leading the remaining guests up the stairs, Gordon waved goodbye to Sigurd IV, who was exiting to move the beer barrels to his room.

“Oh, but what about the tree spirit?”

“Tree spirit? Why would there be a tree spirit?”

“Other than Bersengzeto, they say they’re rare, and it’s impossible for one to exist in Iceland, right?”

“Ah.”

Gordon seemed to have realized it.

“Flora must have done something again.”

“Porong?”

“Tree spirit.”

Flora nodded, smiling in agreement with Gordon’s words.

“Porong Pororong~♩ Porong-Porororong~♪♬”

As they climbed the stairs, Flora started to excitedly trill. It seemed that she was conveying something important filled with enthusiasm, but at that moment, there was only one person who would understand.

“Mary?”

“To assist Lord Stark, we infused life into an ancient tree in the baron’s territory and turned it into a tree spirit.”

“It’s a versatile worker that, although limited in construction work, can also hunt and exterminate.”

Flora made a triumphant sound as Gordon hugged her with one arm and kissed her forehead.

“Then, while Shen was briefly in Iceland, she sensed the life force and asked to be allowed to study Flora.”

“Porong.”

Karem was surprised.

‘Our Porong can even put on a serious face.’

Catherine and Mary also seemed quite taken aback, having never seen Flora show such expressions.

“Could it be that in exchange for that, she’s now a contracted one—”

Catherine’s eyes widened in surprise, furrowing her brow.

“Ah, that’s not it.”

“Then?”

“She said to convince her, and she would work as a contracted one for free, so she asked for time to convince her.”

“Porong! Porong!”

“So right now, we’re taking advantage of her for free.”

In reply, Flora vigorously thumped her hands against Gordon’s chest, trilling with irritation. It was clear that she wanted to be let go immediately.

“…Well, considering it’s a Dryad for a Druid, it makes sense to pay extra to keep her around.”

“Well, thanks to that, we saved significantly on both costs and time for the village restoration.”

The secrets of the living treehouses, where only Bersengzeto elves lived, were finally revealed.

“But it seems that the girl isn’t too pleased.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I can let her free at night. Though the nights and mornings are tough because of that.”

As Flora’s strength in her hits began to weaken, Gordon appeared to be steeling himself like a hero facing a demon lord.

“Oh, then you’ve prepared quite the housewarming gift.”

A dragon meat dish would surely please even a swordmaster.

 

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