Medieval Knight System: Building the Strongest Empire Ever!-Chapter 70: Sweet Deception

The knight Jean de Plessis said he came from Besançon. Besançon was a Burgundian territory adjacent to Count Belfort’s domain, west of Rosenheim, ruled by a baronial family. The Baron of Besançon was the lord whose predecessor Adolf had killed twenty years ago during the war, along with Count Montferrand, when he led the Beren Lance Cavalry.

So even though the conflict in the northwest was a local war unrelated to Besançon, the fact that they had dispatched Jean de Plessis and roughly four hundred troops spoke to the depth of their grudge against the Duchy of Beren. The more pressing concern was the current war situation in the northwest. Had the duchy government been informed of the invasion by now?

I didn’t know how Michael and the Crown Prince would judge the situation, but first I needed to extract more accurate information from this Burgundian knight who was boldly demanding white bread and Roden wine. The problem was that, as an enemy noble, I couldn’t freely torture him because of the ransom complications.

Jean knew this perfectly well, which was why he was asserting his rights so confidently. If I were England’s King Henry V, he would never dare say such things. Henry V had a record of capturing French knights as prisoners during the Hundred Years’ War and executing them all.

Henry feared them returning to fight against him again more than he valued the ransom. Due to his plundering across France and massacring of prisoners, relations between France and England deteriorated to their worst. In contrast, wars between the Holy Roman Empire and France were relatively gentlemanly. To me, it seemed behind the times.

Since arquebusiers were beginning to appear, knightly exploits would eventually become relics of the past. The period I was active in was the twilight of the knight era. I seemed fortunate to be able to play the knight at just the right time. Had it been the era of line infantry, there would have been far fewer stages for me to shine on.

"Sir Streit. With ransom as collateral, I am merely demanding legitimate treatment befitting a noble. If you want information from me, bring white bread and meat instead of this slop."

"What if your family refuses to pay the ransom?"

"That’s unlikely, but if they refused, you could simply sell my equipment and horse."

This was my first time personally speaking with a French knight, but were all knights in this region like this? Or was Jean de Plessis simply an unusual case? Every conversation with him circled back to good bread and quality wine. Since he was a high-value prisoner I couldn’t torture, was there a better approach?

"If I provide the bread and wine you want, will you answer my questions?"

"I’ll tell you anything except matters concerning Besançon. By the way, I consider myself a gourmand of Besançon."

Naturally, no such bread or wine existed in a small village like Feuzen. Most of the supplies we had brought were dried foods or jäger—nothing Jean wanted. So I came up with a trick. I purchased bread and wine with points.

"Oh, wonderfully fragrant bread. What is that?"

"It’s called brioche. Probably a bread you’re familiar with?"

"Brioche? That’s the bread popular in Paris! How, in this backwater?"

Hmm, a backwater is a backwater.

Couldn’t really argue with that.

I brazenly wafted the sweet aroma of the freshly baked, warm bread in front of him. Jean, the self-proclaimed gourmand of Besançon, reacted far more intensely than I had expected. Brioche, rich with butter, eggs, and sugar, was one of my favorite breads. The soft, sweet texture really was excellent.

I leisurely enjoyed a meal right there in the jail, drinking not Roden but the finest Rosenheim wine. The enticing aroma was superb, and the expressions on Jean’s and the other knights’ faces were priceless. Jean, who had been smacking his lips, finally surrendered when I showed no sign of sharing. He put on a gentle smile and spoke in a coaxing tone.

"Sir Streit. Surely an educated knight like you wouldn’t resort to torture by food, would you? I never expected to encounter brioche in a backwater like this, but if you share it with me, I’ll answer your questions sincerely."

An educated knight.

The French standard for an educated person was whether they spoke French. Those who knew French were considered refined and learned, while those who didn’t were dismissed as ignorant. Hard to believe, but it was true. That was why the French insisted on using only French when speaking with foreigners.

The exception was treating Latin as equal to French, but few people knew Latin either, apart from nobles and clergy. There was even a joke in France: when an Englishman and a German meet, they converse in French. French pride in their language was exceptional.

"Oh, my word! How can anything taste like this! The finest bread I’ve ever had in my life!"

"From just this? I eat bread more delicious than this every day."

"I-is that true? Even this brioche is enough to make you forget Paris!"

Jean seemed genuinely shocked.

It was only natural that bread purchased with points would taste better than bread from this era. I also occasionally spent points to buy bread when I grew tired of pretzels. What I mainly ate in the morning was this very brioche. And the finest Rosenheim wine drove Jean to equal astonishment.

"Ooh, I see red velvet fields and the pure white peaks of the Alps!"

"You see the Alps? I don’t see anything."

"Educated knight, you lack poetic expression. That way, ladies won’t take to you."

The more I talked with this man, the more I questioned whether this was a normal conversation. In any case, after enjoying brioche and the finest Rosenheim wine—purchased for a mere fifty points—Jean seemed to have completely let his guard down around me. So I slowly began my questioning. Naturally, I activated the Manager Scouter.

"Which family do you serve?"

"The Baron of Besançon. Our family has been a knight family in the baron’s service for generations."

"What orders did you receive from the Baron of Besançon?"

"I received orders from the baron to join Count Épinay’s army. But that idiot knight from Jeanne didn’t properly learn the route, so we ended up heading toward Levans Forest instead of Épinay."

Jean glared at the knight from Jeanne, who deliberately looked away.

"And then you ran into us?"

"That’s right. Ending up a prisoner like this, I have no face to show the baron."

Everything up to this point registered as truth. From Besançon to the battlefield, the route ran northward. But west of Count Euz’s domain lay an extremely dense forest. Jean had wandered through this forest and barely emerged, and what he stumbled upon was our duchy army. And we crushed them.

We had defeated Besançon’s reinforcements and, in doing so, had actually given Count Euz some breathing room. This was merit I could proudly present to the princes later. Jean, perhaps won over by the brioche and Rosenheim wine, answered my questions without resistance.

"Why did Count Épinay invade Euz?"

"I don’t know the precise reason, but as you’re surely aware, the Duke of Burgundy and the French royal family are currently at war. Advancing troops toward Euz during such a time is ultimately a way to test the waters, wouldn’t you say?"

The French royal family and the Duke of Burgundy in a civil war?

Why did Jean assume I would know? I thought it might be a lie intended to confuse me, but surprisingly, the scouter confirmed he was telling the truth. I concluded that Jean had simply assumed common knowledge, unaware that news from France hadn’t reached us locally. But did the Burgundians truly have the capacity to invade Euz while fighting a civil war?

"The Duke of Burgundy will never relinquish the Main River. Every Burgundian knows this. Our great Duke the Bold will someday march here at the head of a mighty army. Educated knight, I suggest you survive when that day comes."

Was that a taunt directed at me, or mockery aimed at the Duke of Burgundy himself?

Jean was a vassal of the Baron of Besançon, so he was not a knight sworn directly to Burgundy—the baron’s overlord. Most feudal relationships didn’t involve skip-level loyalty. Even if I were the Grand Duke’s knight, my retainers would have no obligation to follow the Grand Duke’s orders. Of course, I myself wouldn’t have the nerve to defy the Grand Duke’s commands.

Twenty years ago, five years ago, and now. The Duke of Burgundy still coveted the Main River. The princes along the Main River had nearly a hundred years of struggle against the Duke of Burgundy. The current duke, having gained the Netherlands and Belgium, wielded power practically on par with a king’s.

He had started a civil war against the French royal family to concentrate power in his own hands. Yet he still had enough strength to open another front. Virtually no single force could face the Duke of Burgundy alone. A terrifying enemy that even the French royal family couldn’t control was our neighbor.

And the fact that every Burgundian knew of the Duke’s ambition to seize the Main River region was deeply troubling. It was practically a forecast of a large-scale Burgundian invasion. Could the Duchy of Beren weather this threat? Should I place my trust in the resilience built over more than a century of conflict?

"What kind of person is Count Épinay?"

"I don’t know much about him myself, but from what I’ve heard from the baron, he seems to want to become the Duke of Burgundy’s son-in-law. So to prove his worth, he invaded Euz on the Duke of Burgundy’s orders."

"What other nobles participated?"

"None. From what I know, Count Épinay invaded alone. The baron judged that Épinay’s forces alone were insufficient and dispatched reinforcements, but as you can see, it ended up like this."

Only Count Épinay had invaded Count Euz’s domain? However, Jean had been telling the truth throughout, then deftly slipped in a lie—because the claim that only Count Épinay had participated in the invasion of Euz was false. I kept tracking his reactions through the Manager Scouter.

"So other lords participated as well. This could escalate into a major war."

"Besides Count Épinay, no other lords took part. Did you mishear me?"

"Forgive me, but you’re lying to me right now. Am I wrong?"

I didn’t miss the faint tremor in Jean’s eyebrows as he maintained his poker face. Eighty percent truth and twenty percent lies. If we believed Count Épinay had invaded alone and responded with half measures, we could find ourselves at a serious disadvantage when we actually faced the enemy on the battlefield.