The spear only had a round weight at its end, yet Jerome’s fiercely intimidating aura was still enough to strike fear into Regis’s very soul.
“......”
“Kukukuh... Has the little lady sent you to poison me or something?”
“If that’s a concern of yours, it’s Clarisse you should be looking out for.”
“Yeah, she’s a scary one. What’s a man to do...? Such a good woman, ruined by a terrible personality. What a waste.”
“I’m here about the duel.”
“It’s too late to do anything about it now.”
“...I thought so.” Regis sighed.
Had Jerome not been fully up for it, Regis had thought of a number of ways to rescind the challenge.
But the man actually seemed to be giddy with anticipation. So much so that he was already training for it.
“Phew... Who’da thought she’d challenge me, just like that? And here I was hoping she’d waste her days away complaining and lazing around until she was married off to some high aristocrat or another... But it looks like I had her wrong.”
“It would’ve been a load off my mind if she had just lazed around.”
“What kinda talk is that, kid? You don’t think your precious little lady can win?”
“Not just me. The soldiers feel the same. The only one who believes she can win is the princess herself.”
Jerome shook his head. He took a horizontal swipe with his heavy training spear, scattering sweat from the muscles on his arms and chest.
“Hm... I wouldn’t say that.”
“...What do you mean?”
“I’m not making light of the little lady’s abilities. It’s plain idiotic to underestimate anyone who can swing that massive sword around.”
“I suppose.”
So he’s not even going to let his guard down, Regis lamented internally.
Quite honestly, martial arts prowess was something Regis couldn’t discern no matter how closely he watched. Jerome’s movements as he swung a heavily weighted training spear were so fast he could barely even chase them with his eyes.
Mph. Mph. He swung his spear as he spoke.
“That sword’ll be trouble... Trying to block her attacks, be it with a spear or a sword, would just shatter my weapon. Those can be replaced on the battlefield, but if your weapon breaks in a duel, it counts as a loss.”
“I see.”
“That’s also most likely what she was trying to tell me before I left. She plans on using the Grand Tonnerre Quatre.”
“But, Sir Jerome, I heard you owned a lance that could match even the treasured sword.”
“I do... but that’s a cavalry lance. It’d be unwieldy to use on foot.”
“Then why not bring your horse?”
“For a fight in the plaza? Now that’d be a laugh. A cavalry soldier is best suited to open plains. ...She’s thought this through. I can’t use my greatest lance, nor my trusted steed, which forces me from the type of combat I excel in most. The little lady might just win this one.”
“I can’t think such a small disadvantage would influence the result.”
Far from it, Regis was now only more certain of Altina’s impending defeat. The way he saw it, in a battle against someone whose skill was so vastly superior, the only way she would stand a chance was if her opponent acted carelessly. If he was intoxicated, maybe... Or worse.
And yet, far from careless, the man before him was on edge. The minor disadvantages placed on Jerome had only made him more alert.
Regis had no idea what Altina’s intentions were, but from the perspective of a tactician, he had to say it was a poorly thought out plan.
“Oi, Regis... You’re still hoping I lose, though, aren’t you?”
“What makes you so sure?”
“If you wanted me to win, you wouldn’t have come here. You’d be out enjoying the rumors alongside the soldiers. But there’s no need to worry—I’m sure you’ll still be doing the admin work you love so much.”
“I must offer two corrections.”
“Go on.”
“First of all, the only resolution I hope for is a peaceful one.”
If Altina stood victorious, she would no doubt be one large step closer to realizing her ambition. However, given the nature of her goal, that would also send her practically barreling toward a cliff edge.
If he couldn’t stop her, Regis thought it was his duty to at least secure a safety net.
“Kukukuh... I doubt you’ll find such things as peace on the front lines.”
“And my second correction... I don’t love administrative work, not in the slightest. Whose fault do you think it is that I’m losing so much sleep!?”
He inadvertently dropped all formalities; he had intended to suppress his emotion, yet ended up baring his fangs.
After widening his eyes in slight surprise, Jerome burst into a grand laugh.
“Kwa-hahahah!! I see, then please allow me to rephrase myself: There’s no need to worry, you’ll still be doing the admin work you despise so much—all for me!”
“How terrible.” Regis slumped his shoulders.
Jerome’s voice suddenly changed tone, coming out much quieter than usual.
“Hey, Regis... You’ve already noticed, haven’t you?”
“...Is this about the budget?”
He nodded.
Regis felt a cold sensation run across his nape. While he was looking through those vast swathes of paperwork, the pieces had gradually fallen into place.
“...The reason you drove off the administrative officers... was to make sure finance would be handled only by those who could keep a secret.”
“Now you’re getting it.”
“...Why did you trust me?”
“That’s... not something I have to answer.”
“When we first met, you tried to bribe me, and then threatened me with a pitchfork. I wonder, was that all because of this?”
The Beilschmidt border regiment had a certain extra expense that wasn’t disclosed to the military’s administrative department, though Regis had yet to identify how such funds were being used.
But considering the circumstances, he could hazard a guess.
Jerome curled up the edges of his lips.
“Hmm... About what we discussed: You’ve been so busy with paperwork, I kept putting it off...”
“About you becoming my direct superior?”
“Forget I asked. It no longer matters. In three days’ time, this cheap drama will be over. You will work under me.”
Regis made a loathful face.
“I’m not valuable enough to draw a margrave’s interest.”
“Don’t let it go to your head; you’re just a freebie. The commander-in-name will be driven off, and a member of the royal line will marry into the Beilschmidt household... After such a large purchase, you’re just an extra apple the grateful shopkeeper throws in the bag.”
“I see... So, I’m an apple.”