Chapter 271

Chapter 271 - Brainstorming

When a fierce battle ends, a joyous loot harvest awaits. Mercenaries from all over scoured the battlefield diligently to be compensated for the blood and sweat they shed.

Good weapons and armor are the share of veteran soldiers. If you lack seniority, you have to pick up shabby equipment. There are also those who tie several pairs of shoes with twine and wear them around their waists.

However, when it came to money pouches, they were all collected and distributed equally.

Nobles and knights take high-value loot like knight-grade equipment, horses, and military fund carriages. This means that the gold, silver, and treasures spread out before Eugene must also be shared.

"Your Excellency. We absolutely must take the Core Metal. WhAAether we sell it, use it, or display it, it's hard to find something like this again."

"A cool name."

"Would it be called the King of Metals for nothing? It's a fitting name since it's a guy that attracts and dominates all metals."

"Package it immediately."

The cheering Dwarves moved the magnet lump onto a wooden cart. The Western Army nobles and knights preferred gold and jewelry, and the squires were able to secure a few silver bars as well.

"The sun will set soon."

Against the backdrop of the burning sunset, Cassandra approached. Her skin, reminiscent of moonlight, retained its coolness even in a world dyed red. Like a messenger sent by the approaching night.

"We let all the refugees inside the Moving Castle. Everyone's eyes were shocked seeing the Castellan fighting. When we hold the welcome banquet, I can't even guess how many glasses of alcohol you'll receive."

"...Do I have to constantly go back and forth to the restroom like crazy again?"

"Pfft."

The alcohol exchanged at the first banquet holds great significance, so it cannot be moderately declined. Eugene had gone to the restroom four times when an all-night drinking party took place at the banquet after capturing Hesed.

"Shall I act as your Black Knight if needed?"

"When a woman does it, it's a Black Rose."

"Ah! I see."

Smiling, Cassandra counted on her fingers.

"Let's split it so the Castellan and I go to the restroom twice each."

"Yeah, thanks for the thought at least."

The last ones who had business with Eugene were the Western Army nobles. Having secured everything they could, they approached hesitantly, watching his mood.

It was soon night, with many wounded and exhausted. Uncollected corpses were scattered about, and it was a mess with the smell of sweat, blood, and excrement. Wild dogs, wolves, monsters, or even the Imperial army might attack. No one wanted to sleep out in the open in such a place.

They were shameless enough to demand the gates be opened while trailing the enemy army right behind them, but they had become very polite now. It was natural, considering they had just seen the monarch before them rampaging like a madman.

"Dear comrades of the allied fOrces. Everyone fought excellently today."

Eugene stood with his back to the Moving Castle and extended his arm toward the castle.

"Welcome to my castle. We have prepared warm food, cold drinks, and clean beds, so please rest comfortably before you go."

"We will gladly accept."

"The Count's invitation is a reward more precious than any loot or victory achieved today."

The nobles breathed a sigh of relief. Their anxiety completely disappeared, and everyone looked at the Moving Castle with faces full of anticipation and curiosity.

* * *

"His Excellency the Count said he would treat you as honorable prisoners of war. The honor he speaks of holds a meaning beyond your imagination."

The Dwarf serving as the Moving Castle prison warden spoke. He was a man who retired after roaming the battlefields for 50 years. A veteran warrior with over 70 scars across his whole body.

In front of the warden stood the Lantzheim Mercenary Group prisoners who had surrendered in the battle, lined up in files and ranks.

"The water is clean, the meals will be food fit for humans, and individual clothes and bedding will also be provided. Those who are sick will be examined at the infirmary, and medicine will be prescribed if necessary. Due to the nature of wartime, we cannot permit outings, but you can get some fresh air and see the sky on the roof for 1 hour a day. Please note that you can freely use the artificial garden within the prison zone."

As the warden finished speaking, murmurs spread among the prisoners. It was because the treatment was so different from what they had imagined.

"All of this applies only when you remain as honorable prisoners. Disobedience, violence, prison breaks, and acts of destruction will be met with merciless punishment. Any questions so far?"

All the prisoners remained silent.

"I will take that as you understand. First, wash off the dust and grime of the battlefield. Chief Jailer. I leave the rest to you."

"Yes. Warden."

The burly Dwarf jailers stepped forward.

"Time to move!"

"Everyone follow the jailer at the front and move to the bathhouse!"

"No time to dawdle! Start from the left line!"

"No chatting!"

The Lantzheim prisoners complied perfectly with the instructions. Even without commands, they marched in a precise formation, matching steps with their left and right feet on their own.

"H-Huh?"

The jailers, who had been ready to haze them expecting the typical sluggishness or cluelessness of prisoners, were taken aback instead.

'Am I imagining things?'

The prisoners even seemed to like the jailers' military-style control.

Whoooosh.

Clear, warm streams of water poured down from the ceiling of the prison bathhouse.

"Was the bath the warden talked about something like this?"

The naked Lantzheim prisoners were flustered. Because they were expecting something along the lines of wiping their bodies with a wet towel or rag.

"Then what is this if not a bath? This is the Moving Castle."

"There are many people waiting! Hurry up and wash."

At the jailers' shouts, the prisoners hastily covered their bodies in soap lather.

A hot bath for mercenary prisoners! They had never heard of such a thing even as a joke. The steam filling the entire bathhouse warmly massaged their bodies, making them feel like their blood was pumping vigorously.

"Jan! You worked at the capital construction office for 8 years. Do you know anything about this?"

"I don't know. It's my first time seeing it too. Maintaining a constant temperature with strong water pressure. Even the royal palace wouldn't have something like this."

"Hey, hey! Look at this. If you turn this, the water pressure changes?"

"Like this? Ouch, hot!"

"Be careful. That's for changing the temperature."

In the field, it was hard to even wash their faces, and even when stationed in villages or cities, washing with a bucket of water was the best they could do. Ironically, now as prisoners, they were enjoying the most luxurious bath of their lives.

The young men, quick to embrace new experiences, chatted excitedly. Meanwhile, the older veterans discussed political matters.

"There was a reason the Emperor was desperately looking for it."

"The honorable Count won't kill us or sell us as slaves. But he won't let us go for free either. We'll have to somehow come up with the ransom money."

"How about changing spears? Our contract with the Emperor ended the moment we were captured, didn't it?"

"Then we have to borrow equipment from the Count, but how do we handle that debt..."

"Would he even trust us? We were lowly bastards who fought as enemies just moments ago."

"Let's take our time and think about it. We'll have plenty of time from now on."

After the bath, slipping into the cloth garments manufactured in the fairy race style wrapped their bodies in coziness.

Next was mealtime.

"Until now, your partner was the pike, but not anymore. From today until you are discharged, this food tray is your shield, and this spork is your spear. You must never lose them and keep them safe."

The chief jailer walked among the prisoners holding the spork Eugene had designed.

"Everyone, sit!"

The prisoners sat on their chairs simultaneously.

"Hah! You guys are incredible at matching drills."

The chief jailer nodded with a satisfied face. The same went for the prisoners.

"We'll spend this winter warmly."

An old decurion muttered while looking at the steaming potato stew. They now clearly understood what the honorable treatment Eugene had promised meant. Everyone took a spoonful with deeply moved faces.

Another menu item was barley bread the size of a fist. It's a cheap bread eaten by commoners and made through mass cooking, but having been baked this morning, the savory aroma was still alive.

Bread is difficult to cook in the field, making it surprisingly rare outside. Furthermore, as prisoners, receiving bread as hard as a moldy rock would be considered lucky.

There were three kinds of side dishes.

Turnips with the roots removed.

Steamed then cooled sweet potatoes.

Minced meat formed into meatballs.

"M-Meat!"

"They give meat to prisoners?"

"These are meat scrap meatballs."

Among the swallowing colleagues, a man who used to be a butcher spoke up.

"They made it by scraping togAAether all the leftover parts from butchering. Besides pieces of flesh, things like chicken combs, pig lungs, and cow ears are probably all mixed in."

His tone was cynical, but he couldn't hide his joy either. He knew that serving even this kind of meat to prisoners was an exceptional treatment.

"It's delicious?"

"Everyone try it. It's really good."

"It's ground really finely. What kind of grinder did they use? Is it Dwarf technology? They put in plenty of seasoning and salt too."

The former butcher nodded while eating a meatball. Making bad ingredients edible is the essence of cooking. In that sense, this meatball was an amalgamation of considerable skill and research.

After the meal, the prisoners were guided to 4-person cells. The two bunk beds only had one pillow each. Because the building's floor and walls maintained a constant temperature, blankets weren't necessary.

"You can freely roam within the prison zone until the evening roll call. And all decurions, come here."

The chief jailer looked proudly at the prisoners who lined up in ranks and files on their own. The very first guests since opening were truly A-class.

"Our prison permits religious life. You can hold prayers or worship services as long as it doesn't violate regulations. Do you all have a religion?"

"We don't. Boss."

"We're mercenaries."

There's no story funnier than a devout mercenary.

"But there might be friends who wish to hear the words of God. While living as a prisoner in a foreign land, one needs something to lean on emotionally."

Where the chief jailer pointed stood a human-sized goddess statue. It was a beautiful idol standing casually half-naked, fully exuding the curves of a female body.

Her voluptuous breasts and violent hips were enough to add fertility and a bountiful harvest to her domain. The slender, deeply indented abdomen connecting the two flowed like a river of heaven.

A mysterious smile looking down with her head tilted. It coexisted full of affection and sensuality. It was an enchanting figure that made the napes of the freshly bathed mercenaries shrink.

"If you wish, you can attend the worship service for Goddess Banas held every Sunday. You can hear good words, and converts will be given the wheat bread of tolerance and the wine of purification."

Gulp.

The decurions swallowed their saliva at the mention of alcohol.

"The goddess statue here is a replica. If you go to the sanctuary, there is a large, 99.9% pure gold goddess statue. You'll be amazed when you see it."

Gulp.

This time, the decurions who particularly loved gold swallowed their saliva.

"Should we investigate who wants to attend the worship service and report back to you?"

"Exactly. I like that you're quick to understand. Ah, and one more thing."

The chief jailer respectfully supported the goddess statue with both hands.

"Never. Never insult or damage the Goddess. She has granted an oracle to mercifully embrace even prisoners and erected her avatar here. No one can insult the Goddess in my workplace. Understood?"

"Understood!"

Indeed, the prisoners didn't make a single scratch on the beautiful goddess statue. They attended to it with devotion, wiping it so not even a speck of dust would stick. Those with good dexterity even made flower crowns with grass and flowers gathered from the artificial garden and placed them on her head.

However, it was unavoidable that many prisoners had blasphemous dreams. Honestly, that was mostly Banas's fault.

* * *

The banquet was postponed to the next day. The Dark Elf refugees were busy getting assigned quarters and learning the living rules, and the Western noble army desperately needed rest due to the fatigue from the fierce battle.

Thanks to this, Eugene was able to leisurely lie face down on the bed and receive a massage.

"Fierce battles leave dissonance in every corner of the muscles. If conditions permit, it's good to relieve it like this."

Maria, standing on Eugene's back and stepping on him, spoke. She was maintaining her balance by holding onto a rope installed in the air.

Press, press.

Her cute, white bare feet wandered over his muscular back like ducks.

Right next to them, Valda, in her pajamas, sat in a W-shape, observing. Since it was a massage technique she had always wanted to learn, her golden eyes sparkled with interest.

"Feet have a larger surface area than hands, so they can embrace the entire muscle more broadly. You can also apply deep pressure by putting your body weight into it."

Maria's big toe traced circles on Eugene's back muscles. At the sensation of latissimus dorsi muscles that felt like they were woven from steel threads, her breath became slightly ragged.

"As you can see, muscles trained to this incredible extent cannot be properly pressured with a woman's grip strength."

"You speak the truth. Even when I wanted to relieve his fatigue after a battle, it didn't seem as effective as I hoped. Some areas were too big for me to even grasp with my hands."

Valda nodded continuously.

"What are you talking about? It was so satisfying and cozy."

"This is a conversation for women. You just stay quiet and focus on the sensations."

Eugene, whose face was buried, turned his head to protest, but was immediately cut off. Valda affectionately stroked her husband's cheek, then grabbed it with both hands and turned it back down.

Preeess.

"For this area, you press down diagonally with your heel raised like this and move across."

"Oho."

"However, you must apply oil to the soles of your feet beforehand. If you apply fOrce without doing so, the flesh might drag against each other and swell up. After this, you spread your foot out again and press as if wrapping around it here."

"To think an area that was so difficult with hands could be this easy."

It had been 30 minutes since Maria's massage lesson began. Valda kept bursting into the kind of laughter she showed when obtaining rare magic ingredients.

"The Princess will be much better at this than I am."

"You praise me too much. A specialist doctor like you would be more skilled."

"Because of my racial background, my body temperature is cold. The effect of promoting blood circulation is also lesser. But if it's the Princess with warm blood flowing... Add to that the affection between a married couple, and it will be perfect."

Eugene, who was being stepped on with his face planted in the sheets, turned his head again.

"It's a bit much to say such embarrassing things while on top of someone..."

"I like hearing it, though?"

Valda once again grabbed her husband's face and returned it to its original position. Eugene instead tapped his index finger against the top of Maria's foot that had just stepped on his shoulder.

"The coolness from your cold feet also gives a refreshing feeling, so I like it. Doing sword fights on the battlefield makes you hot even in winter."

"...Thank you."

A wriggling sensation could be felt from the foot touching his back. It took a few more seconds for it to calm down.

"Besides body temperature, the Princess is heavier than I am, and her height and feet are larger. She is suitable for this massage."

"That compliment leaves me with complicated feelings."

"Ah!"

Maria, who had spoken purely from a medical perspective without any ulterior motives, was startled.

"I-I'm sorry! What I meant was..."

"It's fine. It's fine. More importantly, I'd like you to proceed further with the massage?"

"Yes."

Maria, a doctor counted among the best even in Barcia, was also excellent at physical therapy.

Press, press.

The refreshing feeling given by the meticulous massage.

The cool body temperature felt from the cute feet, unlike the battlefield filled with sweltering heat.

His wife's voice and laughter heard right next to him.

The soft bed exuding a good fragrance.

Without realizing it, Eugene slipped into a deep sleep.

* * *

The next morning. Waking up feeling refreshed, Eugene immediately headed to the forge.

Was it because of the mysterious metal obtained yesterday? The Dwarf blacksmiths had voluntarily arrived early and gathered. However, instead of their daily energizing chant, today they were shouting safety regulations.

"Alright! Open your ears wide and listen! Everyone turn in your personal tools! Do it!"

"Doing it!"

At Walker's command, the Dwarves pulled out and turned in the custom tools they wore everywhere.

They were items refined over a long time to fit the shape of each individual's fingers, hand size, and work methods. They were treasures as precious to them as a warhorse is to a knight.

"Necklaces, bracelets, rings, tobacco pipes, pipe reamers, razors, iron combs, none of it is allowed!"

Walker, with his hands behind his back, walked among the blacksmiths and shouted additional items.

"If anyone has an iron pin in their wooden leg, take it out and come hopping on one foot!"

"Walker, you son of a bitch!"

A one-legged veteran spat a curse at his friend, who teased him whenever he got the chance.

"Are you here, Your Excellency?"

"Energetic from the morning, I see."

"Hahaha! If anyone doesn't show up bright and early when this much Core Metal has come in, they aren't a Dwarf. Excuse me, but iron on your noble body is..."

"Of course, I took everything off before coming."

However, Walker didn't back down.

"I don't dare to doubt Your Excellency, but may I inspect you for safety?"

"As much as you want. But Lady Valda already checked from the top of my head to the tip of my toes before sending me off."

"Then I am relieved."

Walker immediately backed off. He stroked the large magnet lump that looked like mercury.

"Core Metal has power that far exceeds magnetite."

"That's called magnetism. The fOrce that attracts metal."

"Oh! So that's what it's called."

The Dwarves nodded with interest.

"It has strong magnetism, yet it's as sturdy as steel."

"Is this mined from a mine too?"

"No. We get it from the fragments of stars that fall from the sky."

"Must be a type of meteoric iron."

Meteoric iron is the epitome of rare metals. Excluding magic materials like AAAether alloys or hell metals, it is the strongest metal the current civilization can obtain.

"That is true, but you can consider it noble-class even among meteoric iron. I heard that only specially born stars give birth to Core Metal."

"Any other traits besides magnetism?"

"It has a special power absent in other metals. Namely, self-repair capability."

"Huh?"

It was an unexpected answer.

"Hey, bring the diamond drill over."

Two Dwarves brought a diamond drill. It's a tool immune to magnetism while boasting the highest hardness.

"Look."

Walker made a faint scratch on the surface of the Core Metal using the drill. Surprisingly, it was filled in just a few seconds.

"When a scratch occurs, the fOrce concentrates on that area to achieve recombination."

"Most damage would be repaired in no time."

"Yes. Actually, looking only at hardness, there are several stronger metals. However, if you consider overall durability, it's the undisputed number one."

Eugene liked it even more. Because it meant there would be absolutely no problem even if he handled it very roughly. Seeing Eugene smiling with satisfaction, Walker grasped the intended use of the Core Metal.

"Do you perhaps intend to use this as a weapon?"

"Wouldn't that be the most appropriate use? If I were going to use it for other purposes, there are plenty of substitutes."

"If so, a shield wouldn't be good for starters."

"I suppose so."

Among javelins, there are those designed to break the moment they lodge into a shield. The purpose is to make the shield heavy and cumbersome.

Likewise, if he made a shield out of Core Metal, all sorts of things would stick to it. It would be hard to brush off, and it would obstruct his vision during combat.

"Due to the nature of Core Metal, it is incredibly difficult to process. If you're going to use it as a weapon, we'll have to maintain this shape as it is."

"Then it will be a blunt weapon."

"If we make it into a polearm, there will be endless ways to utilize it."

The battles of knights are often decided by a hair's breadth. It's fatal if one's weapon suddenly shakes or is sucked in.

"Something like fishing out enemy knights with this, throwing them back, and then extorting ransom money?"

"...Just what do you normally think about to come up with such imagination?"

All the Dwarves stared at Eugene with awe-struck faces.

"Anyway, with Your Excellency's divine strength combined with centrifugal fOrce, it will be easy to shake off attached weapons."

"They'll probably fall right off if I smash the bare ground or enemies."

"You don't need to worry about damage. Because it will maintain its performance without maintenance even if the battle drags on. Though this is a common trait of blunt weapons in general."

The Dwarves had also thought of making it into a weapon. They all showed Eugene drawings of various polearms they had stayed up all night designing.

"Since you're a knight who rose with a flail, you should naturally go with a flail."

"How are you going to handle the chain? We'd have to make it out of a steel alloy to withstand the weight, but won't it get stuck to it?"

"His Excellency's strength will somehow..."

"Bullshit! Your mindset as a craftsman is rotten."

"Your Excellency. Ignore these guys and look at this. It's a great mace. The shape of the Core Metal happens to be perfectly formed to be attached to the end."

"What nonsense! You get good destructive power by laying it horizontally, not vertically. Look. If you use this hammer I designed, it can even be used to smash castle gates..."

Eugene and the Dwarves surrounded the Core Metal and chatted for hours on end. Right past lunchtime, until Homi came looking for him.