Overlord (LN)

If they were humans, they would exchange envoys to read out declarations and pronouncements; that was a characteristic of wars between nobles. However, nobody from the Holy Kingdom who was quartered in this fortress, the generals included, wanted to parley with the demihumans of the hills. At the very most, they would hold talks to deceive them, or something like talks in order to buy time, and once they spotted the enemy commander they would shoot him dead on the spot.

“...You ought to be heading back to your unit now.”

“I’ll do that. Take care, Boss.”

“Ahh, you too.”

A wisp of unease wound through Pavel’s heart as he watched Olrand leave.

Some demihumans possessed lethal special attacks.

For instance, the mystic eyes of the Giant Biclops.

These demihumans had unbalanced faces and a pair of disproportionately massive eyes. One of these Mystic Eyes contained the ability to 「Charm」 their foes. Its victims would unconsciously approach the opposition. Indeed, they would disregard the fact that they were on walls to take the shortest path towards the demihuman who had enthralled them.

Usually, they would be equipped with magic items to improve their resistance to such special abilities, but Olrand had not been furnished with such items. If his luck was bad, he might be taken out in one shot.

He closed his eyes to clear away his unease, and a woman’s figure appeared in Pavel’s mind.

She was one of the Nine Colors, the woman known as the White.

She worries me too, but in a different way. She’s clueless and often gets the people around her in trouble. That’s why Pink has it so hard... why does my daughter want to join her? Wouldn’t it be good enough for her to just normally meet a good man, fall in love with him and then marry him — no!

He shook away the worry for his daughter that swelled in his heart.

At the same time, he looked back at the demihuman lines, to change his mood.

He did not know how many demihumans stood at the foothills, but there were many flags waving there. Those flags were not camouflage; the sole third tier magic caster in this fortress had already verified it from the sky.

In other words, there really were that many combat units gathered here today. Things would not end with a simple staring match.

Pavel began his usual ritual.

He took out a carved wooden doll from his breast pocket, and then kissed it.

This was a figurine his daughter had made when she was six. It was a grotesque doll with four sticks coming out of a ball, made to look like her father. He still clearly remembered the day when he had praised her by saying “This is a really cool monster,” and how she had burst into tears, and how his wife had kicked him.

The doll was worn out because he had touched it countless times, and the carved eyes and mouth were faded away. She had grown much older since that time, so he wanted her to make a figurine that looked more like him. But perhaps she did not know his heart, because she showed no signs of wanting to remake it.

It was probably because of his long tours of duty stationed here, but he rarely had the chance to see his wife and daughter. He felt himself drawing further and further away from her every day. In the past she would have hugged him immediately, but at some point, she no longer hugged him after he returned home.

She’s grown independent of her father, his wife had smiled, but this was a big thing to Pavel.

If I could take two month’s leave, I’d like to go camping as a family, like we used to.

His daughter would listen with rapt attention whenever he taught her his ranger knowledge. That was what he was aiming for. That said, he knew it would probably not work out.

He put the doll back into his pocket.

His daughter was rarely home due to her aim of becoming a paladin. When Pavel returned to his home after a long absence, his daughter was often away.

It would be best if she married a neighbor after all... no, someone who lived a little close by, or no, someone who stayed in the vicinity.

A paladin’s way of life was the least suitable for his daughter. He had been observing her all this time, so he was sure of it.

His daughter had chosen this path because she admired how her mother looked as a paladin. However, that was not enough to be a paladin.

Only a knight who physically expressed the justice they believed in could be called a paladin.

Therefore, although he did not say it — largely because his wife was very scary — to him, paladins were essentially zealots.