Side Story: In a Certain Domain
While the Imperial invasion force was attacking Arland's royal capital, Alblud, there was another Imperial force elsewhere. However, this is a tale that never made it into the history books.
The invasion army had advanced smoothly toward the capital, Alblud. Paved roads had been completed, and there were no units to halt their march.
However, the villages on the way to the capital had already been completely evacuated. There was no food, no daily goods, and not even anything of value left behind.
Moreover, while there were no forces to halt their advance, there were units specifically targeting their supply lines—leaving the invasion army isolated. Naturally, this led to supply issues.
The invading army had anticipated this to some extent and had brought extra provisions, but the inability to procure supplies locally was a significant blow.
They had enough supplies—for now. But military operations require *surplus*. Watching supplies dwindle day by day wore down the soldiers' morale. If they knew they had wagonloads of food, morale would rise.
“A report just came in from a scouting unit. They’ve found a village that hasn't evacuated.
I want your unit to go and procure supplies.”
At the superior officer's command, a certain knight twisted his lips into a sleazy grin. In wartime, looting and r*pe were expected. He thought that letting his men have some women would raise morale. And if he found a particularly fine one, he could offer her to his superior and increase his own standing—perhaps even earn a promotion.
(Luck is on my side. If this goes well, my rank might rise. Besides, I’m at my limit. I was itching to take a woman anyway.)
With a serious face, the man saluted.
“Understood. Gaul of the 25th Cavalry Regiment, taking 200 men to procure supplies.”
“I don’t need to say it... right?”
His superior gave a similarly sleazy grin. It was clearly implied: “Send the best woman my way.”
“Of course.”
Gaul led his 200 cavalrymen toward the target village... a village located in a territory of the Kingdom of Arland that even local bandits swore never to attack.
And they had no idea that the villagers there had become complete barbarians.
The Gaul Cavalry Regiment, despite the name, lacked the training to use lances or bows on horseback. They were mounted infantry—soldiers who used horses for movement but fought on foot. That’s why they were chosen for this looting mission. In short, they held little value as cavalry.
The village they reached was located within the Barrell Viscounty.
The Barrell Viscounty was near the royal capital. However, it was one of the few territories that had refused to evacuate. The reason: the villagers refused to let their long-sought sanctuary be ravaged by foreign invaders. Their lord, Marza, was too soft to push back and reluctantly gave in to their demand to stay.
Gaul’s cavalrymen stopped by a small stream near the village to water their horses. From a distance, they heard cheerful human voices.
“Let’s go check it out discreetly.”
“Understood.”
Only women's voices could be heard—clearly multiple women chatting happily. Hearing this, the soldiers’ faces twisted into vulgar grins.
As mounted infantry, Gaul’s men wore leather armor for mobility, not heavy plate. They silently moved along the riverbank toward the voices, unaware they were being tailed from about ten meters behind.
“Oh...”
Bathing in the still-cold stream were naked young women and girls, washing themselves. The scene resembled something out of a fairy tale—like elves or spirits playing by the water. But one glance at their ears made it clear they were ordinary humans.
Gaul nearly let out a voice of excitement and had to cover his mouth with both hands. Glancing to the side, he saw his subordinates just as captivated. They were all mesmerized by the women’s beauty.
The people of the Barrell Viscounty—especially those who had returned from the Monster Forest—were strikingly distinct. The men looked like complete barbarians: walking muscle masses draped in pelts that barely qualified as clothing. But the women were stunningly beautiful. Perhaps after centuries of survival, they had evolved to attract strong male protectors. Despite their looks, the women had almost no combat ability. However, they were astoundingly dexterous, to the point they could be mistaken for dwarves. They now produced fine crafts in the viscounty. Somehow, their hands remained unblemished despite their work.
Gaul quickly began to scheme. These women were unparalleled beauties, rarely seen even in the Empire. If he offered one of them to his superior, his promotion would be all but guaranteed. Keeping one as a personal slave wouldn’t be a problem either.
He was the second son of a poor knightly family. He had no wife and no significant military rank. His slaves were merely plain-looking servants. He had been wishing for a beautiful slave he could keep for his own pleasure.
"Shall we attack?"
One of Gaul’s subordinates whispered the question as quietly as possible. The soldiers were already in position, hands gripping their sword hilts, ready to move at a moment’s notice.
"Yeah. This village might be a jackpot. If there are girls this beautiful here, the rest of the village must be just as good... First, we take them hostage and seize control of the village. We can play after that."
"We’ll get a share too, right?"
"Don’t touch the ones we’re offering to the superior. He’ll scream about them being 'soiled' or some crap. But the rest are ours. Give the broken ones to the other units. They won’t care as long as there’s a hole."
The Arland army’s main force had already been surrounded in the fortress. The Empire had split its forces, sending one group to seize the capital. Naturally, they’d also dispatched looting squads. But Arland had already evacuated all the villages and towns along the invasion route, taking both people and supplies. So the invaders had gained almost nothing.
For soldiers, war was about taking—women, gold, anything they wanted. Discipline? That was for after the victory.
But now, even though they were winning, they had neither women nor treasure. It was intolerable for them. It was a man’s nature.
Gaul drew his sword.
"Let’s go!"
Crunch!
A sharp, cracking sound of something hard breaking—followed by a death rattle and the thud of a body collapsing.
Gaul and the others turned around in a panic. The soldier at the rear had had his neck broken and lay lifeless on the ground.
"Wh-Who… are you…?"
"I protect women. Promise with village chief."
The one who stood there was a strange man. His face was hidden behind a mask made from a magic beast’s skull. He wore no clothes, only furs from beasts or monsters, allowing for easy movement.
He had nothing but a pair of daggers on his hips. Everything about him screamed “barbarian”. His body was covered in tattoos, indicating how far gone he was. It was Doug. Though he had attained a more civilized life, his long years living as a barbarian meant his transformation hadn’t reversed. For the record, he lived in an incredibly comfortable house like the other villagers and now served as a retainer to the Barrell Viscount family.
"You are Empire army. So you die. I kill you."
Doug drew his gray dagger—Gengetsu—from his hip and swung it casually. A repulsion blade extended from it, and with a single sweep, five heads went flying.
"W-What?! Spread out! He’s alone, surround him!"
"Who says he's alone?"
As they moved, another man burst out of the bushes and punched one of the soldiers with such force that he slammed into a tree and crumpled. His face was so badly damaged he wouldn’t survive.
More men emerged from the brush. All wore furs of beasts and monsters, looking every bit like native warriors.
"Well, well. Peeping on the village girls, are you? Got guts. Hope you're ready to die."
There was no way the girls of the village would bathe in the river without guards. Naturally, the villagers had been nearby to watch over them.
The girls had bathed in the river simply because they used to do so before arriving in this village. While they loved bathing in tubs, they also enjoyed the occasional river bath.
These villagers were unusual. They looked like barbarians, yet bore no weapons… or so it seemed—Gaul had noticed the metal on their fists.
Brass knuckles were virtually unknown in this world. Combat martial arts using fists existed, but they usually involved gauntlets to protect the hands. These men, however, came from a background where even basic metal was hard to come by.
Years of forest living had deteriorated their metallurgy. They could no longer produce proper weapons. Their solution was the simplest weapon possible made with minimal metal—brass knuckles.
And they were absurdly strong. Even without armor, they could match the strength of elite royal knights.
Incidentally, these villagers had formed an adventurer clan—Barbarians. It was now a major rising star, and 70% of its members had reached A-rank, considered top-class adventurers. Ranks above A were referred to as “inhuman”. Their strength was no joke.
They were currently the second-strongest clan registered in the Arland Adventurers' Guild. The number one clan was “Gentlemen”, composed of adventurers dressed in tailcoats like old British aristocrats. They had instilled a sense of fearsome discipline throughout Arland’s adventurer community.
Why were such elites here? Their fighting style was vastly different from the formal Arland military. They weren’t suited for structured unit combat. While they could support each other, they couldn't cooperate with total strangers. Moreover, since the Barrell Viscounty was a newly established nobility, it was difficult to suddenly impose military obligations on them.
"By the way, the baron said we could kill these guys."
"Yeah. No point letting them live."
Most of the men present had daughters. So the verdict on these scum was unanimous—death.
"W-Wait! Let’s talk—"
"Die."
Doug’s spinning kick shattered Gaul’s neck. The soldiers, too stunned to react, were beaten down by the villagers—smashed to the ground, skulls crushed, instantly slain.
In just a short moment, the barbarian villagers had completely slaughtered the Imperial soldiers. Then they looted the corpses for anything valuable, dug holes, and buried the dead.
"These warhorses’ll fetch a nice price."
The villagers were rather pleased. The Gaul cavalry's gear wasn’t great, but trained military horses were in high demand.
Thanks to the other villagers joining in to help bury the bodies, cleanup was quick.
"As for the rations… maybe feed them to the livestock?"
Even these barbarianized villagers refused to eat Imperial military rations. A child bit into one and grimaced.
The core villagers of the Barrell Viscounty were mostly part-time adventurers. Their standard of living was, without exaggeration, the highest among all rural people in the kingdom. They had no need to eat rations. Their palates had grown too refined.
In the end, the rations were used as livestock feed. The animals reluctantly ate them while the villagers laughed. As for the meat, it was too salty, so they simmered it to reduce the saltiness and tenderize it before eating.
However, this territory had become a magical hellscape even within the kingdom. The barbarization of the core villagers was bad enough—but what the kingdom didn’t yet realize was that even the newly relocated citizens from the royal capital had begun turning barbaric.
In time, the Barrell Viscounty would come to be known as “the Land of Beauties and Beasts”.
What do you think about this chapter?
