Virgin Knight Who Is the Frontier Lord in the Gender Switched World - Chapter 245

Under her command, a knightly order emerged, traversing the lands with flutes and drums. This is what is known as the Landsknecht.

Shoes polished to a mirror-like shine, and pants pristine without a single thread out of place.

A tilted finery allowed to those of us destined for death.

Our appearance? Undeniably splendid.

To my comrades, the mightiest fools among us!

“Everyone, forward!”

“To apprehend Valiere von Anhalt!”

With a formation of one thousand, we stormed the conversion ceremony of the Cologne Sect.

Their gathering numbered only five hundred, a pitiful mix of unarmed merchants and destitute folk.

Their shabby appearance bespoke their poverty—patched-up clothing, barely their finest, donned for this one joyous day.

Compared to us Landsknechte, clad in resplendent attire fit for the grave, the difference was night and day!

“Who do we need to watch out for!?”

“Valiere’s personal guard! They’re armed with muskets and gambesons!”

“What about the Holy Mothers of the Cologne Sect?”

“During conversion ceremonies, even they carry nothing more than maces and pistols—foolish clerics, not worth worrying about!!”

Even if our kidnapping plot had been anticipated, we’d simply break through any trap.

The enemy likely expects us to succeed in capturing her.

They intend to exploit the situation after we succeed.

No matter—our band exists only to seek a place to die.

“Maintain formation! Just like this—”

We charged into the conversion ceremony.

From afar, we could see Valiere receiving her baptism on a crude, makeshift outdoor stage.

All around were Valiere’s faithful, their flags bearing the Cologne Sect’s Cross-and-Circle emblem flying high.

Some of the flags swayed and fluttered.

Knights, overwhelmed by the ceremony’s joy, must have been waving them like children with toys.

“Just like this—”

We pressed forward.

But just as I was about to voice those words, I saw two figures blocking Valiere on the stage.

They were women known as Sabine and Berlichingen.

Both were shouting something.

No doubt, their words were along the lines of, “Protect Lady Valiere!”

They had noticed us.

The crowd grew restless, with many turning to look our way.

Even from afar, their confusion was evident, resembling mother wolves baring their teeth to protect their cubs.

Pitiful.

Unarmed weaklings would be easily swept aside.

And then—

“Continue the conversion ceremony! Everyone, remain calm!!”

A voice rang out—one I recognized.

That voice—what was it?

Years ago, I had heard it on the battlefield.

Ah, yes. It was the voice of that fool who challenged Reckenber five times and lost five times.

It was Duke Temeraire.

We halted our march momentarily, gauging their next move.

※

“What are you doing!? Assemble the personal guard immediately and riddle them with musket fire!”

“And evacuate the non-combatants, like the merchants! No matter how much we serve Lady Valiere, we can’t use them as shields!”

Sabine and Berlichingen spouted their foolish concerns.

Even these two, known for their wit, couldn’t grasp it.

What was about to happen—or rather, that nothing would happen.

“There’s no need.”

I dismissed their concerns with ease.

I turned my head to the side.

“Valiere, you’re still in the middle of the sacred conversion ceremony. There’s no issue; continue.”

“But Duke Temeraire, the Landsknechte are attacking us!”

“They can’t do anything. There’s no need to worry. Should they come any closer… well, as I explained earlier.”

Raising a hand, I signaled.

On the hill beyond stood the vice-captain of my maddened knightly order, the “Loyal One.” She raised her hand in response.

If I lowered mine, the charge would commence, and the Landsknechte would be annihilated.

“That’s why there’s no need for concern. Just proceed with the ceremony. That’s all you need to do.”

That’s all that needs to be done.

Nothing else is required.

“Are you sure about this?”

“I am.”

Valiere before me was a sight to behold.

While she likely lacked the talent to rule effectively—give her a nation, and it’d collapse in no time—her courage in moments like this was undeniable.

Obediently, she heeded my words and resumed her speech.

Before her lay a crystal orb to amplify her voice.

“Everyone, calm down and listen. We will continue the conversion ceremony.”

Her voice was soft yet commanding.

With a fairy-like beauty and a voice scented with poised grace, she exuded a purity devoid of discrimination or scorn, regardless of one’s rank or status.

“This is a sacred ritual. There’s no need to worry—just listen to my voice.”

I watched as the gleaners—the destitute faithful—who had turned to look at the Landsknechte, turned back and settled.

Valiere’s voice carried such virtue.

“Very well. Let the conversion ceremony proceed… From this moment forward, we shall shift to the Cologne Sect and become subjects of the Polydoro domain. There are matters I must address as we do so. Listen closely.”

Valiere’s personal guards stood watch.

With muskets slung over their shoulders and clad in gambesons, they were the only ones among the gleaners dressed remotely decently.

Yet, even their gambesons were patched and shabby, likely an embarrassing sight to some.

“To become my people doesn’t mean asking what I can do for you, but rather, what you can do for me.”

There wasn’t a trace of grandeur in them.

They likely scoured markets for secondhand goods, patching and mending them to make them barely presentable.

“And at the same time, it’s a battle where I will continuously ask what I can do for you. I have said before: with my own hands, I will bring a plow to barren lands. With these hands, I will remove stones, plant seeds, and distribute shards of pottery to lay down laws. With these hands, I will read the books of pioneers to cultivate villages in the untamed lands of the vast Polydoro domain.”

Compared to her personal guard, the gleaners were in far worse condition.

Not one among them had likely purchased new clothes in their entire lives.

The only exception was Lady Pretihya, who, for the first time in her life, had commissioned a new outfit for this occasion and was visibly elated about it.

Even now, the flamboyant Lady Pretihya gazed intently at Valiere.

“It won’t be easy. Your nails will turn brown, caked with dirt.”

Her eyes sparkled.

She looked like an unloved five-year-old girl who had been given a toy doll for the very first time.

And she wasn’t the only one.

“Your skin will become coarse and sun-scorched. The weather will be unpredictable, and crops might not grow well. After all, we know nothing. For many of us, this is our first time tilling the land. The path ahead will be one of hardship.”

Patchwork clothes, worn and shabby, yet for this day, they donned the best they could manage. All of them shared the same eyes.

“And yet, let me say this: What we ought to fear is fear itself. Even in dire circumstances, our hardships do not stem from a lack of ability. Compared to the trials faced by the pioneers of the Polydoro domain, ours are still far easier.”

In her eyes, there was only the reflection of a single girl.

The second daughter of the Anhalt royal family.

“If our endeavor at pioneering fails, it will only be because we succumbed to fear and fled. And I swear—I will not run. So let us promise each other: neither shall you.”

Every one of them had eyes like innocent children.

From the 500 gathered, their thousand eyes focused solely on Valiere.

Every gaze was fixed on her.

I knew this sight.

I had seen it before.

People like this—such as they were.

“Now, we will begin the conversion ceremony… First, I will receive baptism from the Holy Mother. Afterward, each of you will come to the stage in turn. I will take your hand and guide you to the Holy Mother. There, you will receive baptism. And then—then…”

The scene resembled the group once touched by the blade of Reckenber.

Their shoes were soaked with blood, their pants tattered, and yet their eyes burned with a fiery gleam.

“When all is said and done here in the imperial capital, we will walk together to the Polydoro domain.”

Their figures were those of former foes,

Of the Landsknechte, those rootless ones.

But they are no longer the same.

Now, only wretched souls remain, aimlessly adrift, with nowhere to go.

“Ah,”

A sigh escaped my lips unconsciously.

Duke Temeraire turned toward his subordinates on the hill, shook his head, and slowly lowered his raised hand.

※

No one said a word.

The sight of Valiere guiding each person by the hand was hauntingly familiar.

When was it?

At the enlistment ceremony for the Landsknechte,

When hundreds of swords were raised toward the heavens, clashing together to form a path of steel.

We had no money.

Born as serfs, as third or fourth daughters, it was inevitable.

Our bodies, our bare flesh—these were our only assets.

Everything else was borrowed, purchased on credit from the commissary.

Shoes, clothes, swords, and armor—all were in tatters.

But never once did we think of ourselves as shabby.

There was a woman who struck our shoulders with her sword back then.

No matter what, she never looked at us with scorn.

Our worth was judged only by our resolve as soldiers.

And now?

Polished shoes gleaming brightly enough to see one’s reflection.

Immaculate trousers, without a single fray.

With the emperor’s and council’s funds, we no longer lacked money.

And yet…

Why do I appear more pitiful than they?

Not just “feel” pitiful—but clearly look worse.

We’ve already become lesser than who we once were.

We no longer had those radiant eyes.

When I looked beside me, all I saw were pitiable figures—those who shared none of my search.

A woman with an enigmatic scent, like a winter rose, no longer stood among us.

That woman was gone.

Reckenber was gone.

I quietly came to terms with that.

“What should we do?”

Someone murmured.

It wasn’t a question, but a musing aloud—a solitary whisper.

“Do nothing,”

Someone answered the murmur.

Do nothing.

There was no will to act.

We couldn’t bring ourselves to disrupt the conversion ceremony.

How could we desecrate such a sacred ritual, one we had once experienced to our very bones?

How could we obstruct the path of swords we ourselves once walked?

“Let’s just go home. I can’t bear this anymore. What’s the point of watching this?”

Someone blurted it out, their words laced with disarray.

It was as if they had completely forgotten the purpose of abducting Valiere,

As though they could no longer endure the thought of it.

Their voice quivered with anguish, as if wishing to see nothing more.

“To where?”

Another replied.

There was nowhere to go, no home to return to.

Such was the plight of those called the Landsknechte.

So, I—and we—

Could only stand idly, gazing enviously at the conversion ceremony, with deadened eyes.

Like an unloved girl, stripped of the only toy she ever had.