Tristan heard multiple responses erupt at once, yet all of them converged into a single conclusion.@@novelbin@@
"The Young Duke!"
"Sir Arthur?"
"The one from Frost Hill!"
Rick clicked his tongue dramatically.
"Wow, overwhelming. So, slaying a single monster isnât even enough to be in the running."
"Of course not. The Young Duke might share some of the credit out of courtesy to His Highness, but in the end, the real achievement will be his."
"Itâs amusing that you all think the same way. I agree. After all, land shouldâif not returned to its original ownerâgo to the one who proves their strength."
"The owner? Oh, you mean the current lord. Wonder how he ended up without an heir."
For a brief moment, Rick couldnât continue speaking. A surge of emotionâsomething other than sadnessârose within him unexpectedly.
The conversation soon drifted elsewhere, mostly toward more primal topics. Complaints about work, envy of nobles, longing for good food...
Rick slipped back into his earlier smile and rejoined the conversation, though in reality, he was subtly fueling the soldiers' grievances.
"Indeed, His Highness works you all too hard. While we barely catch any sleep here at camp, heâs probably enjoying the fine banquet the lord has prepared for him right now..."
Tristan. Itâs not like youâll achieve a feat that surpasses Arthurâs, but I want to eliminate even the slightest one percent chance that you might claim this land.
It wasnât as if one could precisely measure both menâs contributions. Unlike the hunting tournament, no one would be counting their kills one by one.
"The lord's evaluation and the testimonies of the soldiers nearby will surely be taken into account."