Virgin Knight Who Is the Frontier Lord in the Gender Switched World

My mother was an eccentric.

In this world where chastity was reversed, she taught me martial arts, focusing on swords and spears.

It was understandable to be drilled in the governance and management of our territory.

I get that it’s something a lord must comprehend.

In the future, I will marry and support a noblewoman who will take the name of Polydoro in my stead.

But why learn martial arts and tactics?

At the age of 15, when I left the village and discovered scarcely a man among the knights, realizing men typically stayed off the battlefields, I was bewildered.

As for me, having remembered my previous life’s memories from a young age, I thought it was normal for the eldest son of a noble to acquire such skills, so I never complained to my mother about this oddity.

The abnormal gender ratio in Polydoro territory is 30 men to 270 women.

I harbored thoughts that ‘this world must be absurd’ in what was certainly not just a biased opinion despite the situation where polygyny was taken for granted.

“What did you just say? It’s fine if it’s about me. But to insult my mother as well?”

I marched straight to the garden table.

The two pages, seemingly not expecting me to approach, spill their tea cups as if they had wet themselves in the crotch, stand up, and start making excuses.

“We didn’t say anything in particular.”

Let me repeat, my mother was an eccentric.

Despite my father’s early death from tuberculosis and the pressures from noble kin, village heads within our domain, and all around her to take another man, she rejected them all.

Instead, she drilled me in martial arts and tactics as if I were the eldest daughter she never had.

But now, I think my mother was desperate in her way.

Perhaps she thought it difficult to bear another child due to her frail body.

Or maybe she loved my deceased father that much.

Straining her body, which was often bedridden, to teach me everything about being a lord, and thus, after giving birth to me, she died of illness at the young age of 35.

Now, I understand.

“Did you insult my mother?”

She tried to leave me everything she knew to the best of her knowledge.

Knowing she wouldn’t live long, she aimed to leave everything to me during the short period—while I was still a child growing into adulthood.

I thought of my mother as merely an eccentric.

From the age of 15, when my mother became completely bedridden due to illness, I began to serve in the military in her stead.

I’m not sure if that counted as filial piety.

No, I probably haven’t been filial.

After my mother died, I finally realized.

Even if—I was a person reincarnated from Earth to another world.

To me.

“Did you insult my mother, ancestors, people, territory, everything about Polydoro?”

From age 5, when I became aware, she gave me everything necessary to live in this world—at the cost of her own life.

“I’ll kill you.”

My mother was irreplaceable.

Insults directed at me are one thing.

I know a muscular and robust man like me is not favored in this kingdom.

But insults towards my mother are unforgivable.

I seized the nearest man by his weak collar, hoisting him into the air.

“We are relatives of the First Princess Advisor, Duchess Astarte! Even so—”

Is that so?

That’s why you slandered me, the Second Princess Advisor.

Thinking that with your background, no harm could come to you?

—Such a grave misunderstanding.

“So what?”

I shoved my index finger up the man’s nostril.

“Stop, please. I apologize—”

Too late.

I push my index finger as far as it will go, almost to the base of the nostril.

A scream—no, a roar escapes from the man’s mouth, indicative of a crumbling personality.

“See, you can make a decently loud and not-so-frail voice after all.”

I laugh wickedly.

My finger, having reached into the man’s throat, is covered in blood when I pull it out from his nostril.

The man collapses to the ground with a thud, spitting out a froth of red blood.

That’s one down.

I wipe my index finger with a handkerchief…

Even when facing a Duchess, the territorial size and military disparity might be on a different scale.

I turned around at the sound of a familiar voice I had heard hundreds of times on the battlefield.

“Ara Ara, Duchess Astarte. How do you do?”

“I’m in the worst mood right now.”

Duchess Astarte.

The Advisor to Princess Anastasia.

Her subjects exceed tens of thousands, and she can mobilize nearly 500 soldiers even in emergencies.

The number of his standing soldiers alone surpasses the population of my own territory.

But—

“Let me ask you directly, Lord Polydoro. Those men—did the two I have serving as pages in the royal palace do something?”

“They insulted my mother, ancestors, people, territory, everything that is Polydoro. They dared to say that I was picked up as a foundling from Virendorf because the previous generation could not bear children.”

“—”

Duchess Astarte’s mouth twitched.

As Duchess Astarte descended from the hallway to the garden, she approached a man collapsing at the waist, urinating in fear.

“Is what Lord Polydoro said true?”

“N-no, we—”

“So it is true.”

The expression on Duchess Astarte’s face turned downright demonic.

The Demon Astarte.

That’s why the minstrels sing of her.

“You fools!!”

Duchess Astarte kicked the man in the face with her boot.

The sound of his nasal cartilage breaking was oddly satisfying, and I stared at Duchess Astarte’s profile.

As always, she had a demonic look but was beautiful.

And her breasts were large. Very large.

Her long red hair flowed back, making her a stunning beauty.

Just looking at her wouldn’t cause an erection, of course.

Distracted by Duchess Astarte’s reaction, I thought such vulgar thoughts.

“My apologies, Lord Polydoro. I hope this punishment serves as an apology.”

“No, Duchess Astarte. Are we, not comrades who fought against the barbarians—the Virendorf at the front lines? There is a difference in national power, but still.”

“National power difference or not—are we not comrades in arms? There’s nothing to worry about.”

Indeed, the relationship between me and Duchess Astarte was never bad.

During the Virendorf invasion a year ago, Duchess Astarte’s 500 standing soldiers, my 20 subjects, and Princess Anastasia’s 30 royal guards totaled 550 members.

That was all we could muster in an emergency, but we repelled the invasion from Virendorf.

Duchess Astarte always stood at the front lines with me to encourage our disadvantaged forces.

Our relationship couldn’t possibly be bad.

The Advisor to the First Princess, the Advisor to the Second Princess, there were frictions between our positions—but the faction of the First Princess was overwhelmingly strong, not enough to worry about.

The problem is—

“Nevertheless, Lord Polydoro, you still have quite the admirable posterior, as always.”

That’s sexual harassment, you know.

Ah, this is Duchess Astarte.

“You’re kidding, right? A rough-and-tumble guy with muscles to spare like me isn’t everyone’s cup of tea.”

“No worries!! I’m all about the booty!!”

She was a free spirit.

Perhaps her position as a Duchess allowed her almost any liberty.

“Oh, Lord Polydoro, when will you finally give yourself to me? Have we not intertwined blood and sweat on the battlefield as comrades?”

I’d like to feel those breasts freely if I could.

I want them to squeeze my penis between those chests.

“Duchess Astarte, as I’ve said repeatedly, my chastity is reserved for my future bride.”

I dislike the idea of being devoted to only one person for life.

I wanted to build a harem.

It was my dream to gather beautiful women aged 16 to 32 from my subjects and build a harem.

But, at least in this country, being a virgin is revered.

If rumors spread that I’m promiscuous, Lord Polydoro— and consequently, my domain’s reputation— will suffer.

The conditions for marriage— taking a bride— will also worsen.

That’s why I can’t do it.

With tears in my heart, I stare into Duchess Astarte’s eyes.

“Or perhaps you’d prefer to be my son-in-law.”

“Joking again, I see. Our positions—The difference in our ranks is too great. We wouldn’t match. Besides, there’s the matter of the territory.”

“Wouldn’t being a lover suffice? What if you bore me many children, and I ensure one of them inherits the Polydoro territories?”

It was an enticing offer.

But that would mean becoming the lover of Duchess Astarte.

…No, that wouldn’t be too bad.

“By the way, I’m still a virgin. I’m 18. By the time I’m 20, I’ll have to bear children, so I’ll need to find a man, but I’d prefer it to be someone I see potential in.”

“I had no idea.”

If she’s willing, I couldn’t care less if she’s a virgin or not.

The only concern is the presence of STDs.

This is bad.

Continuing this sexually charged conversation with such a beauty is going to make me hard again.

I’m already half-hard.

If only there were a brothel.

But in this world, there are only male prostitutes.

It’s hopeless.

Why does the world torment me so?

I can’t understand it.

Duchess Astarte gazes into my eyes and mutters.