Return of The Unrivaled Spear Knight

Joshua stood deep in the forest near Peril Castle; not a single soul could be found nearby.
He was staring at something dark, like a stain, on the ground in front of him.

Eventually, he began to emit a thick cloud of ominous smoke.

“Get up.”

The dense mana in the air quickly began to disappear, coalescing into a human form.

When he lived, he stood at the pinnacle of mankind and held absolute authority in his country.
His skills were renowned around the world.
They called him “Yawang1” in lands near and far, even across the oceans.

Now he was a legendary Death Knight, Joshua’s loyal subject.

“Duke Altsma.”

Glowing red eyes appeared in the hollow eye sockets of the smoky figure.

[…I feel terrible.
It’s like dying and then waking up again.] He rolled his head as if he still had bones.

“You’ve been through a lot,” Joshua noted.

The late Duke replied with a nod.

“Is he strong?”

[He lives up to his title as one of the Twelve.
I couldn’t do anything but flee.]

“Thank you for going out of your way to help my knight.”

Duke Altsma shook his head.
[Even if I was still alive, I wouldn’t have been able to beat him.
Never.]

Joshua’s eyes widened slightly.
It was a strange thing to say, even if it was true.
A Master—especially an imperial Master—had the pride of someone who had achieved godhood of some sort.

[Is it that surprising?]

“…It really is.”

[I understand why I died now.]

Joshua was quiet for a moment.
He understood what defeat meant to knights like them.

The stories of the Death Knights are really scary because they can continue to achieve enlightenment and grow, despite their undead bodies.

Of course, there were other things that needed to happen before that.
Namely, a powerful desire, like water desperate to escape from a dam.

“When this is all over… I’ll let you meet him again.”

The burning red lights in Duke Altsma’s skull flickered.
Even in death, his desire was obvious.

When he got back to the castle, Joshua pulled something out of his sleeve and laid it on the table with a hefty thump.

“Master?” Icarus paused and gave it a confused look.

“I want this money to go where it’s needed.”

“Money?” Icarus eyed Joshua, head cocked inquisitively.
“Oh, wow—” Icarus opened the leather pouch and was blinded by the glitter of gold.
“How much is this? Where did it come from? Don’t tell me you seduced some rich lady somewhere.” The tactician stared at Joshua with wide-eyed disbelief.

There were a plethora of 100-gold pieces and some paper notes as well, which meant Icarus was holding at least a couple thousand gold.
That kind of money didn’t just appear out of nowhere.

“Reinhardt has a good system.”

“System? You mean…?”

“They recognize some kinds of gambling as legal.”

“No way…”

“I gave it a shot.”

“Oh—Did you just bet on yourself!?”

Joshua nodded shamelessly, to Icarus’s chagrin.

“You’ve got a lot of self-confidence, huh?”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“I can’t really say for sure, which makes it even more silly.” Icarus plucked the sack off the table.
“This will help offset our costs nicely.
I’ll make sure the budgeting is done just right.”

Joshua nodded.
“It’s kind of a one-off, but that doesn’t mean it’s poorly spent—”

“What do you mean? Why would you spend this money to pay for someone else’s war?”

Joshua looked confused.

“The Pontiers have plenty of funds—They’re merchants, in case you forgot.
This money should be invested into setting the foundations of your own household.
I’m telling you, you should make your house an empire in its own right!”

“Is that important right now? Our priorities should be work—2”

“No, no!” Icarus scowled.
“Master, you are a Baron in name only! You’re the only noble without a household in the entire Empire! Look at us: your people don’t even have a place to call home! We have to save for furniture, attendants—stuff like that! Surprise, surprise, they cost a lot of money! Everything costs money!3 If you insist on using it as war funds, then give me an itemized list, and I’ll check it.”

“There’s no getting away from you…”

“What was that?” Icarus stared him dead in the eyes.

“Nothing… I just feel like I’m being heckled by my wife.”

After a moment, Icarus’s face flushed bright red.

“That’s a compliment—You’re very hands-on with your job.”

“It’s… not bad.”

“Hmm?”

Icarus changed the subject quickly.

“It may seem like a lot of money right now, but building a household is hard.
This will be gone in a flash—even a billion gold wouldn’t be enough to make this house famous.” Icarus smiled, expression back to normal.

“So…”

“So, master, from now on, you have to work hard and make a lot of money.”

Joshua stared blankly at Icarus.

“Don’t worry too much.” Icarus flashed a pretty smile at him.
“I’ll take good care of it.”

The antique pottery hit the ground and shattered into a thousand pieces.

“Again.
Say that again.”

The knight flinched.
He had to answer, but that might just make the Marquis angrier.

He swallowed a lump and opened his mouth again.
“1,500 dead, 3,000 taken captive, 471 returned safely… and Sir Wright and Master Gehog—”

“Damn it!” This time, Marquis Crombell sent a piece of furniture through the window.
He bit his lip so hard it bled.
“The Mercenary King… Where is he?” he grunted.

“Right here.” He walked through the open door as if he’d been waiting.
“Your face looks awful.”

“You think I care?”

“Don’t talk to me like that.”

Marquis Crombell flinched.

“This is your son’s fault.
He was blinded by his greed and made the same mistakes countless greedy people have made before him.”

The Marquis squeezed his eyes shut, and the Mercenary King sighed.

“I mean… That Joshua Sanders is pretty impressive, but I didn’t think you’d lose this bad.”

“Joshua Sanders,” Marquis Crombell hissed through clenched teeth.

“Give me command of this war.”

“What?”

“There are 2,000 mercenaries waiting outside, and people all over the continent already know that I’ve sided with the dimwitted Marquis Crombell.
This is going to ruin my career—it’s going to be near impossible to get jobs in the future.
That means I’m putting my life on the line for this job.
So give me command.”

It made sense, Crombell had to admit.
But was he willing to give an outsider control of 7,000 troops?

“Isn’t there anything else you can do?” he eventually asked.

“Does it matter to me what your son is like?” the Mercenary King asked.
“To you, maybe, but to me? No.”

“That’s—”

“You don’t really know what to do after being defeated one time, do you? So I’ll negotiate for you.
It might be hard—”

“It doesn’t matter.”

The Mercenary King was startled to find that Marquis Crombell’s eyes suddenly glowed with a cold light.

“Our family won’t have a blind leader anymore.”

“If…?”

“Even in peacetime, I know you’ve walked the fields of battle for many years.
I’ll give you complete control over this territory, along with my son.”

For a moment, the Mercenary King’s face was completely blank.
Leaving his own son out of the decision was not something the Marquis would propose lightly.
The heartlessness was honestly puzzling.

“Great.” The Mercenary King smiled sourly.

“However, we must win this war,” Marquis Crombell insisted.
“I’m going to cut off Joshua Sanders’s head and hang it from my gate.”

“As you wish.” The mercenary smirked.
“Tell them.”

The knight who came in to report lifted his head in confusion.

“It’s sweetest when they’re drunk on victory.
I’ll drag them down to the abyss with my own hands so they can taste the deepest depths of despair.” The Mercenary King’s body swelled with fighting spirit.

That kid is about to find out how vast the sky is.

EDN: “Yawang” means some form of monarch.
I’m convinced they’re calling him “Bonk King” and no one can convince me otherwise. ↩️

TLN: This kind of mentality could be traced back when Joshua’s a mercenary… because the only time he gets paid is when he does work where he needs to spend money as well. ↩️

EDN: me irl ↩️