Retired Hero Wants To Sleep - Chapter 156



Mission No.8 Warrior, rest in peace (8)

“… How much did these crazy people spend on food?”

A hilly area overlooking Rotume, the capital of the empire, in the distance. Ewald sighed as he stared at the slimmer money bag with a puzzled look on his face.

“But we weren’t the only ones who ate it. I hope the captain enjoyed it enough.”

“You guys have the most money for food!”

“Uh uh uh, it’s shameful.”

Ewald’s forehead swelled with veins.

Let’s not talk Concerned about what to do with these locusts, who spent all of the food that an ordinary worker should earn in a year in just one month, Ewald put his money bag in a tight tie.

It’s a lot of money anyway. Having plundered countless treasures of gold and silver since the dragon’s lair, Ebalt is rich enough that he and his crew can spend less than 10% of their lives even if they spend their entire lives, but he hates spending money like this.

Besides, I didn’t like it all the more because his unit’s activity expenses came out of taxes anyway.

However, since he entered Rotume soon anyway, Ebalt, deciding that he had to rob Kasper of his back pocket, especially his personal possessions that had nothing to do with taxes, led his horse down the ridge.

Rotume returned after a long three months. Upon entering the Highway of Wings, Ewald began to complete this journey of travel and return.

“Dissolution. I won’t interfere too much, so return to the garrison by 23:00 today.”

“… Are you talking like a soldier all of a sudden?”

Ewald let out a tsk at Shupea’s blow.

“You guys are special forces members first, right?”

“… Is it?”

“Just go and play!”

At Ewald’s awkward words, all the crew members jumped off their horses and ran into downtown Rotume, leaving their reins intact.

“Please, mister!”

“I’m sorry!”

The rest of the crew fled without a word.

While watching the backs of the crew members with an expression that he did not expect this to happen, Balt covered his sternly distorted face.

He even fled Usbel.

Ewald, who was terrifyingly glaring at Usbel’s back as he hopped while holding Lafon’s hand, sighed deeply and got off his horse.

Well, it’s because I’m in the middle of playing.

However, he thought that it was a little too much to leave everyone to return the horse to the captain, so Balt gathered the reins one by one.

Glancing at the slowly declining sun, Balt smiled at the red energy of the setting sun that stung his heart again.

Even though he had traveled so far, that setting sun was pushing Ewald to go somewhere else.

“Stop beating, you heartless bastard. Less than an hour has passed since I came back.”

Having said that, Ewald, the highest rank in Wanderlust, slowly straightened his back.

Since all the members had left to find something to play with or someone to meet, he thought that he should meet someone too, so Balt was deep in thought.

Come to think of it, most of the people he knew were dead or Ewald who had no way of knowing where he was. The only old people he’d ever met were Kasper, Marcus, Fredericke, Pe Diem, and Mariella.

Patrick Geresbeck, Mariella’s father and Spea’s grandfather, has already crossed the Three Way Stream, and Lucas, who woke up in the Corridor of the Dead, is unknown where he is.

Ewald put a very faint emptiness on his lips and turned to the setting sun.

Before he knew it, he was saddened for no reason at the fact that he was a being described in the past. Ewald smiled helplessly and pulled the reins.

* * *

Grabbing a bottle of the finest weiß Kuss, a strong alcoholic drink, Ewald was moving toward the Imperial Army garrison.

Now, thanks to the sky, which had turned too dark to be called twilight, Ebalt escaped the lure of the setting sun.

May Marcus be well? Ewald walked toward Marcus’s barracks, feeling unnecessarily worried.

But something was strange about him.

The size of the garrison was significantly reduced.

Balt tilted his head as he glanced at the Knights’ garrison, which had been reduced to almost half.

It seems that the battle between the Kurs is fierce. Ewald sighed involuntarily as he recalled the army being put into the battlefield.

Ewald, immersed in such thoughts, found Marcus’s tent appearing on the other side.

Seeing that the light was streaming out from under the tent and that his guards were holding on, Edwald grinned and approached the tent.

“This is a controlled area. Please return.”

“You are working hard.”

Ebalt, who showed off the Imperial Army badge from his bosom, removed his entrance and entered the tent.

“Hey, Marcus!”

Ewald, who pushed the bottle of Vaiscus, towards himself,

“Ewald!”

He found Marcus, who gave off a demonic impression.

“… Who are you?”

Did he find the wrong tent? Ewald turned around with a face that made him want to go home, but Marcus almost flew through the air and grabbed Ewald’s back.

“Is Ewald right? Hey, Ewald, right?”

“Eh, you’re right, but you seem to be looking at the wrong person.”

Ebalt, reminding himself once again that the Marcus he knew was not like this, struggled and wriggled his body.

However, Marcus, who was holding Ebalt’s neck tightly, shouted with a feeling of vomiting his blood.

“Help me! Please, please, Ewald!”

“… No, I just arrived and that’s…”

Ewald turned his head back, unable to help his body, which had turned toward the tent.

Marcus revealed it, turning his bloodshot eyes to Ewald.

“Schheim has been put into the battlefield!”

* * *

“… Organize again.”

Ewald didn’t seem to understand what his old friend Marcus was talking about. However, the incomprehension and the venom had nothing to do with each other and floated on Ewald’s face.

“His Majesty gave an order to send Schheim to the battlefield!”

“Schheim? Really Schheim? It’s not a Schheim replica toy, is it really Schheim?”

Ewald, who seemed joking but not joking at all, looked menacingly into Marcus’ eyes.

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“Do I look like a joke as Schheim?”

“No, it doesn’t look like that at all.”

Seeing Ewald looking at him with clear eyes, Marcus had to sigh deeply.

“The real Shuheim was placed on the battlefield by His Majesty!”

“… Did that bastard really come to senility?”

Ewald, whose memory of having Schheim stolen by the demons in front of him, was still vivid, fiercely exposed his teeth.

What Schheim could produce in a blacksmith’s shop?

Therefore, there was no other conceivable assumption for Ewald except that the Shuheim from the duchy flowed into the Empire.

And the suspicion of ‘why did that Shuheim come to the empire without bottom and end’ strongly shook Ewald.

“Do you have any information about Schheim?”

“… Not at all.”

Even for Marcus Schilling, commander-in-chief of the Imperial Army, it was a serious problem that he had no information about Schheim.

This means that he did not even give information to those in military command.

Even though the emperor was a thug, the situation was serious.

“So when and how did Kasper tell you about Schheim?”

“That was two days ago.”

With a devastated expression on his face, Marcus began to speak.

“They suddenly convened bureaucrats at a cabinet meeting and laughed, saying that they had prepared a weapon that would turn the whole situation upside down. Then, he revealed Schheim as the empire’s secret weapon.”

“… Crazy bastard.”

“I never imagined that Schheim was being developed in our country.”

“We don’t even have the technology, so would we have developed it?”

Ebalt turned his head with a very tired expression, and spat out curses while pouring the poor Weiss Kus into a glass. Marcus strongly frowned at Ewald.

“Do you know anything about that Schheim?”

“Yes!”

Pouring the fragrant baiscos straight down his throat, Ewald slammed the glass down on the table with a bang.

“Do you remember when I went to the principality to look for Dvahur?”

“Of course I remember.”

“But Dvahur isn’t in the duchy.”

Ewald, who poured alcohol from the bottle, poured the glass in one sigh.

“Then Dvahur…”

“Dvahuru was roughly destroyed, but the principality is mass-producing Schheim!”

Marcus’ eyes widened rapidly.

“Shu, you said you were mass-producing Schheim? You mean the principality?”

“Even that is 18.”

Squeak.

“How many?”

“Exactly the 18th. But someone stole it all right in front of me.”

“What’s up?!”

Even though he was just listing the facts, Marcus continued to scream at Ewald with a face almost heart-attacking.

“Who stole them all?!”

“Jasquia.”

Marcus’s mouth went blank.

“You saw it too. That ruthless-looking demon.”

“You mean the demons took Schheim?!”

“First, let’s talk about the phenomenon.”

To calm Marcus’s excitement, Walt began to count the facts on his fingers.

“The principality was producing 18 Schheims. But that Schheim was stolen by Zaskia. The problem is that other countries, including our country, do not have the technology or anything to produce Schheim.”

“… It is.”

“But the Kasper pup pushed Schheim into the battlefield?”

Ewald, who summarized the situation really briefly, showed white teeth.

“Do you disagree that the Schheim that Jaskia stole from the duchy is the Schheim that Kasper was talking about?”

“… There is nothing else to think about.”

“In that case, Marcus.”

Ewald stared at Marcus with extremely keen eyes.

“Did that Jaskia hand over Schheim so that the Empire would gain advantage?”

Marcus shook his head heavily.

“… That is nonsense.”

“Then can I assume that you and I are thinking the same thing?”

Nodding his head heavily again, Marcus looked at Ewald with serious eyes.

Ewald began growling violently.

“This is a proper trap.”

* * *

There was no time to delay.

Rotume, who had stopped by to inform Kasper of his adventures and results so far, heard the unexpected story of Schheim pop up, and Ewald flew into the imperial palace at once.

He didn’t even have time to face the guards or anything, and he immediately smashed the window of the emperor’s office and fell off, and Balt lifted him up.

“Where is Kasper?!”

The guard, not knowing that the behemoth would appear after smashing the window, wielded a weapon, and as soon as he confirmed that the behemoth was Ebalt, he hurriedly untied his hand and straightened his back.

“Lung, Your Majesty is not here!”

“Is that bastard sleeping?”

“No, that’s not it!”

“Where are you, Casper?”

“Eh, Mr. Ebalt?”

A third voice was heard. Ewald turned to the place where the voice came from with a grim face, and at the end of his gaze stood the person Ewald had met about 8 months ago.

When Balt was first brought to the imperial palace, he was the maid who served.

“Mr. Melina?”

The maid hurriedly lowered her head to her Ebalt, who remembered her own name exactly, looked at her floor and opened her mouth.

“Hey, what are you doing at this hour?”

“I’m looking for a Casper pup.”

Melina, who was starting to get used to calling the highest power of the Eljenor Empire like that, quickly opened her mouth.

“The Emperor is not in Rotume right now.”

What is this again Ewald turned an irritated face to Melina.

“Then where is that bastard now?”

“His Majesty told me to say this if Ewald-nim ​​finds him at least once in a while.”

Melina bent her body almost to her knees as she preached her emperor’s message to Ewald.

“Meh, Melong. Schheim is mine.”