Virgin Knight Who Is the Frontier Lord in the Gender Switched World - Chapter 93

On the plains within Polydoro territory, we marched about an hour’s walk from the boundary. Although pebbles were scattered around, it was clear that the area had been frequently trodden by humans—a perfect training ground.

“Total number of 50, all assembled!” Lady Helga, the commander of the retainers, announced loudly.

Before Lord Faust and me—his lord knight and knight-in-training—50 residents of Polydoro territory were lined up. The group consisted of Commander Helga, four retainers, 44 peasant soldiers, and an unwanted Cologne Sect assistant priest, totaling 50.

The formation was disciplined. Women wore modest and unassuming clothing. Among them, only the four retainers were armed with crossbows, swords, and chainmail, while the remaining 44 carried either long polearms or swords and wore simple farm attire.

The weapons, owned by Lord Faust and the Polydoro family—including five crossbows mostly looted from bandits—were distributed more liberally than usual.

I’d rather not mention it—but the assistant priest I dislike was in full battle gear, clad in chainmail and carrying both a musket and a mace, showing no sign of her allegiance to the Divine Mother. Her equipment seemed typical for the modern Cologne Sect.

Lord Faust was questioned whether anyone else was armed with a mace. Considering he did not anticipate close combat with armored foes, he found it unnecessary.

Lord Faust’s military duties mainly involve suppressing bandits, with the Virendorf campaign being a rare exception. Even on the battlefield, heavily armored knights would be the first targets Lord Faust would seek to eliminate.

Indeed, the residents had likely never faced such adversaries—until now.

For Lord Faust, a great sword was all that was necessary, making a mace redundant. He required neither lance, mace, nor shield; a single magical sword sufficed to defeat his enemies.

Additionally, he had borrowed a set of magical longbows from the Reckenber family during the Virendorf campaign. What he plans to do with them now remains a question I ponder.

“As usual, divide the troops.”

“All units, match the pace! Count off by fours!” Lady Helga commanded briefly. With that, everyone understood her intent and promptly split into four groups.

Without haste, they all moved at a uniform speed, transitioning into formations with the retainers wielding crossbows at the center. Not a single person was out of step.

Typically, feudal lords in the Anhalt Kingdom are required to provide military service for 40 days a year. This period can be adjusted through negotiations involving money or goods with the royal family, but the Polydoro territory conducts training once a week, totaling over 300 days a year.

Their high level of training was evident.

Furthermore, as I had observed earlier, except for a few exceptions, the residents were robustly built. Not as abnormally large as Lord Faust, but with an average height of about 180 cm, they possessed well-defined muscles.

They appeared fearless, ready to die for Lord Faust.

In essence, the residents are individually strong, well-trained, and highly motivated. The fact that not a single one perished during the brutal Virendorf campaign, where Duchess Astarte’s standing army was reduced from 500 to 300, attests to their formidable strength.

Duchess Astarte, having witnessed this strength on the frontlines of the Virendorf campaign, would likely want to learn more about this area.

If it poses no inconvenience to Lord Faust, I might report this as a spy, just in case.

I continue my observations.

Now, the residents of Polydoro territory are divided into four groups: 12 units in total, each led by one retainer and 11 peasant soldiers—a satisfyingly symmetrical arrangement.

However, the Cologne Sect assistant priest has inserted herself as the thirteenth member—an ominous number.

A thirteenth, a betrayer.

Perhaps some measure should be devised to eliminate her first?

As if to counter my thoughts, Lord Faust murmured.

“Martina, I know you don’t particularly like the Cologne Sect, but don’t glare like that. They are not bad people.”

“No, I don’t really care about the Cologne Sect. I am grateful to them. They have, at least, protected me from excommunication.”

Excommunicated.

My mother, Caroline von Bösel, was excommunicated from her original sect. She broke the precepts, betrayed the country, and struggled disgracefully until the end.

So, it was unavoidable.

Without even needing a directive from the church, a traitor like my mother was not to be buried in the cemetery.

As the daughter of such a traitor, it seemed inevitable that I too would be excommunicated.

Meanwhile, Lord Faust, infuriated that the sins of the parents should not be visited upon the children, pleaded with the Cologne Sect church for a change of denomination.

Lord Faust, a stalwart believer since the time of the first Lord Polydoro, was accepted by the Cologne Sect, who naturally took me in.

I am truly grateful.

At least I was spared from being shunned by the clergy and living without any support from religious authorities.

That being said…

“Regardless of the Cologne Sect, I really dislike that crazy assistant priest.”

“She must participate in the drills, or else she’ll cause trouble. Even during my mother Marianne’s era, that was how the Cologne Sect managed her.”

It was probably the same when Lady Marianne was alive, with the Divine Mother participating in the church.

It was easy to imagine that.

Why is the Polydoro family so tolerant of the Cologne Sect?

I had heard it had been this way since the founder.

“The Polydoro family and its residents knew no religion but the Cologne Sect, only learning of other denominations through repeated military duties and growing worldly knowledge.”

My furrowed brow seemed to beckon the words I wanted to hear.

“When the first Lord Polydoro settled these lands, there was no Virgin Mother. There was no god anywhere. As the saying goes—let me rephrase that. A girl at the temple gate does not recite scriptures she hasn’t learned. Only a few residents remembered some precepts and scriptures.”

“And those were of the Cologne Sect.”

Speaking of which, I don’t know the precepts of the Cologne Sect.

Having changed denominations not long ago, there wasn’t much time, and Lord Faust has been too busy to spare any.

“Though it is a poor territory, everyone desired a formal Virgin Mother. Their earnest wish was granted, and eventually, a Virgin Mother came from the great cathedral in the capital. That’s how it happened.”

“Is that why they cherish her?”

“Really, the territory was so poor, barely surviving day-to-day, that it’s rooted from the time when she helped them cultivate the fields. It would be strange not to value that. It would be odd not to reciprocate. It’s not really about being a clergywoman, a noble, or a peasant anymore.”

Well, I understand that.

I feel positive about the Cologne Sect’s approach and affirm it.

Yet it’s terrible.

“KIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE”

Not a shriek.

Upon reflection, I realize I have never once heard that assistant priest utter coherent words.

Only screams.

Sadly, that’s all there has been.

Yet all the Polydoro residents, without a word of complaint and like seasoned soldiers, are lined up in formation.

Among them, the assistant priest, still screaming.

The residents of Polydoro, neither blaming nor visibly annoyed, calmly accept it.

A surreal scene indeed exists.

“Are all Cologne Sect members like her?”

“I’ve heard she originally came from a noble family.”

Lord Faust made a statement that was uncharacteristic of him for its falseness.

“It may sound like a lie, but it is not. Rare individuals are born into this world. People who cannot be called outright evil but whose nature is alarmingly close to it, like the captain of the Second Princess’ guard, Sabine. People who are not necessarily evil but seem to have a screw loose in their head, like that assistant priest, drawn to the precepts of the Cologne Sect, abandoning even the position of a noble eldest daughter to enter a convent.”

“She was the eldest daughter?”

“Well, although a noble, I heard it was one of the poorer ones.”

It’s hard to believe she received the education appropriate for a direct heir.

Yet, she must possess some intelligence to be able to discuss her origins with Lord Faust.

I felt a bit relieved.

“KIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

She’s screaming again.

I can only imagine, but her family must have fallen into ruin.

She might be more sinful than I, who was excommunicated.

“We’re about to start a mock battle, but what do you think so far, Martina?”

“What can I say?”

Excluding the screaming eccentric, I saw no particular flaws.

Ultimately, what matters in maneuvering troops is how to boost morale, how to ensure adherence to commands from leaders and non-commissioned officers, and the capabilities of each individual.

All these factors overlap complexly, and the higher they are, the better, but in the case of the Polydoro residents, everything was well-coordinated.

Prepared to die for the survival of Lord Faust and the continuation of the Polydoro territory, they are well-trained, and each individual’s abilities are high.

There’s really nothing a 9-year-old like me should have to point out.

There might be something to be said about the formations Lord Faust is concerned about, but given their small numbers, it’s hardly an issue.

If it isn’t broken, it shouldn’t be fixed, that’s my judgment.

Lord Faust’s concern for improvement seems misplaced.

Even though all residents cannot be mobilized due to the need to defend the territory, under Lord Faust’s command, the troops, typically numbering 20–30 during military duty, are unlikely to die unless something extraordinary happens.

Or is Lord Faust really looking for a serious answer?

“Lord Faust, may I ask if you truly seek an answer from me?”

“What do you mean?”

“It seems to me, Lord Faust, that you sometimes speak in order to teach me, while also pondering deeply over your own words. It appears as deep strategy, but more often it feels like the behavior of someone who concludes things within themselves. It seems like you’re having a conversation, but in reality, you probably see my responses as if they’re merely echoes bouncing back from a wall.”

I initially thought Lord Faust was troubled by having too many yes-men around him, always affirming his actions.

But does he really listen to what others say?

The habit of stirring the soup.

His usually simple demeanor contrasts sharply with how heated he becomes when something piques his interest.

Lord Faust exhibits signs of distractibility, and in a bad sense, an academic air.

If anything, he might be slightly aware of it.

He could command a small group.

He possesses a certain charismatic aura as a superhuman.

However, he’s clearly not suited to leading large numbers.

There’s no brake on the interplay of his emotions and rationality.

Lord Faust is aware of this and is trying to improve.

But he probably isn’t really listening to my words.

He feels the need for advice from others, yet when it comes to discussing, he has a tendency to conclude things within himself and doesn’t really seem to listen to what others are saying.

“…”

Lord Faust fell silent.

See, he goes silent when things turn inconvenient for him.

Lord Faust is not foolish.

I said earlier that it was either deep strategy or self-completion, but he’s not foolish enough to confuse the two.

Despite being a minor lord of just 300 people, he is unusually knowledgeable, and his mind is quick.

That has been sufficient until now, which isn’t necessarily a good thing.

He has managed to keep his people alive, deal with incidents as they arise, and somehow navigate through everything.

But is Lord Faust really making the right decisions?

Originally—

“Lord Faust, I hesitated to speak out because you saved my life, but I must say this. A true noble would not utter such nonsense as a parent’s sins not affecting their child and would have abandoned me. From the first time we met, Lord Faust, you have been mistaken.”

“That is absolutely not true.”

Lord Faust, who had been looking away as if to dodge the issue, suddenly turned to face me.

His towering two-meter stature and my diminutive nine-year-old self met eye to eye.

Everything in Lord Faust’s gaze told me that he did not regret saving me.

He needs an aide.

I’ve thought it many times, but without an aide, Lord Faust is bound to encounter serious trouble someday.

He might make an irreparable mistake and end up having to sell himself to Duchess Astarte for support.

Whether it’s due to a lack of education from the previous Lady Marianne or something innate, I cannot tell.

In any case, someone needs to help him.

Lord Faust slowly averted his gaze from me and raised his hand.

It was to give orders to the militia.

“Begin the mock battle. You know this is a simulation. However, failure here is directly linked to death. Form ranks, maintain combat effectiveness, and keep the line—”

As he quickly lowered his hand, the militia moved as if alive.

“Uh, the line? Infantry in line formation… what? I feel like I’ve forgotten something important.”

Lord Faust started mumbling to himself.

As I sighed deeply, wondering at his self-questioning yet again ignoring my presence, I awaited his next move.