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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Xrecker
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As the saying goes, a late bloomer knows no dawn.
Dorothea, having awakened to the joys of womanhood, drained me dry, demanding three more rounds before finally subsiding.
The next morning,
Dorothea’s face matched her hair color as she remembered the previous night’s events.
“Y-You crazy bastard! You took advantage of me while I was drunk!”
“You were the one who initiated it.”
“That’s beside the point!”
I yawned, dismissing her protests, and reached for the water pitcher on the bedside table.
Glug, glug, glug.
Too lazy to find a cup, I drank straight from the spout.
“Ahh…”
Water after waking up always tasted the best.
“Want some?”
“Thanks.”
Despite her anger, Dorothea accepted the water gratefully and drank from the pitcher like I had.
I watched her, my chin resting on my hand, and said playfully,
“Isn’t that an indirect kiss?”
Dorothea looked at me incredulously.
“Pfft! After what we did last night, you’re worried about an indirect kiss?”
“Well, yeah.”
Her unexpectedly dry response flustered me. Dorothea, combing her tangled red hair, said,
“Anyway, what happened last night stays between us. Understood?”
“Of course. I’m not one to kiss and tell. Besides, it’s not something to brag about.”
“What?! You bastard!”
“I mean, it is something to brag about. But I won’t tell anyone.”
I quickly corrected myself, and Dorothea turned her back to me, a huff escaping her lips.
“Whatever. Just tie my hair. I’ll have Eva redo it later, so don’t bother trying too hard.”
Her hair, reaching down to her waist, was apparently too difficult for her to manage on her own.
I took the comb from her hand, thinking she was rather high-maintenance.
Brush, brush
Her hair, despite the lack of proper care on the battlefield, was surprisingly smooth and soft, likely due to the high concentration of mana within it.
As I explained before, mages could store excess mana in their hair, treating it as an extension of their bodies. That’s why most mages kept their hair and beards long.
I was the exception, having shaved my head during our journey because I couldn’t be bothered with the upkeep.
After brushing out the tangles, I gathered her hair and tied it into a simple style.
Having had long hair myself, it wasn’t difficult.
Dorothea looked in the mirror and exclaimed,
“No! This looks like a child’s hairstyle!”
I chuckled.
“You told me not to try too hard.”
Having tied her red hair into two simple braids, she now resembled Pippi Longstocking.
Unable to argue with her own words, she fumed silently, then turned away with a huff.
“Eh, whatever. I’ll just fix it later. Now hurry up and get back to your tent before someone sees you.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
My lighthearted reply only made her scowl.
“Hey! I’m your superior officer!”
I smirked and waggled a finger at her.
“Actually, we’re more like equals. The only one who outranks me is the Demon Lord.”
That was the beauty of being in a directly subordinate unit.
Maybe the Demon Lord set it up to keep the peace, but I wasn’t complaining—it worked in my favor.
Dorothea, her frustration reaching its limit, muttered,
“Ugh, fuck.”
It was the perfect expression of her current emotional state.
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Thanks to the heavy drinking the previous night, the morning passed quietly.
Around lunchtime, the soldiers we had left behind at the main encampment arrived at the Hamburg fortress, bringing all the materials needed to build tents.
Among them was Camilla, my personal maid.
“Welcome back, Camilla.”
“I hope you rested well.”
“I can sleep anywhere, as long as I have a place to lay my head.”
It felt like ages since I had last seen her, even though it had only been a day.
After exchanging greetings with Camilla, I watched the long line of Demon Lord’s army soldiers entering the fortress gates.
Judging by the amount of supplies they carried, they were planning to relocate their entire base to the fortress.
Considering the strategic advantages of this location, it was a wise decision. The sturdy walls would provide better protection against the harsh winter winds.
As I watched the soldiers bustling around like ants, Eva, Dorothea’s adjutant, approached, waving her hand.
Unlike the previous evening, when she had been clad in heavy plate armor, she was now wearing light armor and furs. She greeted me with a cheerful expression.
“I’ve been looking for you, Master Patrasche.”
“Me?”
“Yes. I have a favor to ask.”
Eva pointed to what had once been the southern part of the fortress.
Thanks to the magical duel between the three Archmages the day before, the buildings and walls in that area had been reduced to rubble.
“We can replace the destroyed buildings with tents, but the walls are a different issue. I was hoping you could help us rebuild them.”
“Ah…”
That was indeed a problem.
Building walls in this environment wasn’t easy. It would require a lot of manpower, money, and time.
While manpower wasn’t an issue, with soldiers readily available, the other two were.
But with two Archmages present, things were different.
Even outside their area of expertise, they could use magic far more efficiently than ordinary mages.
I was about to agree when a thought occurred to me.
“So, Commander-in-Chief Dorothea will be helping as well, right? She’s partly responsible for the destruction of the southern wall.”
Eva, sensing my intention, grinned.
“Of course, Lady Dorothea can’t be left out of this. If she refuses, I’ll drag her here myself.”
We easily conspired to make Dorothea’s life miserable.
“Then it’s settled. I’ll be waiting at the construction site.”
“Alright. We’ll be there shortly.”
“Hahahaha.”
“Ufufufu.”
Misery loves company.
That was true camaraderie.
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“No! Why should I do this?!”
“Lady Dorothea, please maintain your composure as commander-in-chief. The soldiers are watching.”
“Hmph!”
As Eva had promised, Dorothea, who would normally be lounging in the comfort of the residence, was dragged to the wall construction site.
She initially whined and complained, but upon realizing the presence of numerous soldiers, she regained her composure and turned away haughtily.
I approached her, rubbing my hands together.
“Welcome, Commander-in-chief.”
Dorothea’s eyes narrowed.
“Patrasche! You’re the one behind this!”
“Well, it’s not fair for you to be the only one enjoying the spoils of war while leaving all the work to others. So, please, lend us a hand.”
I gestured at the surrounding area, and Dorothea, seemingly feeling a pang of guilt, flinched and sighed.
“Fine, what do you want me to do?”
“We need you to create soil and bake bricks.”
The soil in this area, perpetually covered in snow, wasn’t suitable for making bricks. We would use magic to create artificial soil, then bake it into bricks to repair the wall.
While she had been dragged here against her will, Dorothea seemed intrigued by the relatively straightforward task.
“You’re going to build the entire wall with magic?”
“Yes. It will be easier to imbue the finished wall with protective enchantments if it’s magically constructed.”
“…Alright, fine.”
Relieved that she had agreed to help, I sighed and stood beside her.
Then, I added,
“Let’s make a wager to make things more interesting.”
“What kind of wager?”
“Whoever makes more bricks wins.”
Dorothea grinned confidently.
“Hmph, I’ll win for sure. What does the loser have to do?”
I looked down at her, already acting like the victor.
“Hmm… how about the loser calls the winner ‘big brother’ or ‘big sister’?”
“Deal!”
I smiled darkly.
Foolish girl. She had no idea what she was getting herself into.
Fueled by her competitive spirit, she would likely work even harder than usual, giving me the perfect chance to slack off without drawing attention.
“So, do we start now?”
“Yes.”
And so began the wager between someone who had no intention of winning and someone determined to win at all costs.
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