A well-built man was sweating nervously, completely at odds with his imposing appearance. He stood with his head bowed before a man in work clothes, who had his arms crossed.
“So, when was the first time you held hands with Agathe?”
“C-Captain, it’s just…”
Leo trembled as he kept his eyes lowered before Maxime. He might have been the village’s proud number-one marksman, but he could rarely muster any confidence in front of Maxime. For the record, Agathe was unofficially number one.
“Agathe is fifteen now. I know you’re young for your size, but holding hands when you’ve barely known each other that long… doesn’t exactly look good, does it?”
“I swear I wasn’t thinking anything weird…! We only… ended up holding hands naturally while helping each other train… I don’t have any improper intentions!”
Maxime’s eyebrow slowly rose.
“Are you saying my little sister isn’t good enough for you?”
His voice turned icy.
“Eek…! Th-That’s absolutely not what I meant…!”
Leo’s entire body trembled faintly. He had no idea what the right answer was, and his lips repeatedly opened and closed without a word coming out. Completely overwhelmed, he shed a single fat tear.
“…I don’t need to spell out how you should conduct yourself from now on, do I? You know how to behave, right?”
“Y-You don’t have to worry…!”
Seeing Leo answer as though he might collapse from exhaustion at any moment, Maxime could feel himself starting to relent.
I only called him here to give him a warning, but I guess I scared him a little too much. …We’ve wrapped up the conversation anyway. Maybe I should crack a little joke to lighten the mood.
Maxime smiled and opened his mouth.
“Want to live?”
Thud!
“Please spare me!”
Leo slammed his head to the floor. He had taken the joke completely seriously.
“…I’m not going to kill you. Just go.”
“I-I can’t just leave like this! Please give me a chance to make it up to you somehow…!”
“Then go outside and help collect pine resin or something.”
“I’ll get right on it!”
Leo bolted outside as if he intended to rip every tree he saw straight out of the ground.
***
Human values are shaped by the dominant culture.
A person from the first century and a person from the twentieth century are genetically the same, yet they display different patterns of behavior because of these cultural differences. Different things stir their emotions, and they empathize with different things.
To put it simply, if your son suddenly insisted on going off to war today, most parents would call him crazy. But in this era, plenty of parents would praise him as a proper son going out in search of honor.
“Honor” was like an acceptance letter from Seoul National University College of Medicine. Demand was overwhelming, but the resource itself was limited. In other words, there simply wasn’t enough supply of honor to go around.
If you spend any time in the army, you learn whether you want to or not. The competition is so fierce that even if you fight bravely, it’s hard to get properly rewarded for it.
Honor was difficult to earn. So ordinary soldiers turned to the next best thing: competing for spoils.
I hate looting. Giving priority on spoils helps boost morale, but… in the long run, the negative effects are significant. Once soldiers get a taste for looting, they start doing whatever they want just to get their hands on more spoils.
He needed a new approach to managing an army. He had to keep an armed organization from embracing capitalism.
Order would collapse, leaving military discipline an empty shell. As more soldiers lost their sense of morality, resentment over who gained what would build within the ranks. Worse, their focus on tactics would suffer, reducing the army’s overall combat effectiveness.
I need some kind of incentive that’ll make them follow military discipline and maintain their dignity.
That was why he was creating medals. Honor still carried considerable value even in the modern era, but in the Middle Ages, it was far from an empty ideal. It held absolute value, something people were willing to trade their lives for.
His plan was to turn the two hundred troops assigned to him by the Dauphin into figures others would aspire to become, supplying them with the honor they craved so desperately.
Ordinary soldiers will get mass-produced badges showing their affiliation. Those who distinguish themselves will receive medals of merit and treatment equivalent to knights… and anyone who leads the entire army to victory will receive the Order of Arma Sacramenti. Even if they don’t have a title, I can ask the Duke of Alençon to perform the investiture on my behalf.
Medals of this era were modest in appearance. Even the famous chivalric orders that survived into the present day only became elaborate after later restorations added jewels and ornamentation.
In reality, simple round medallions, necklaces bearing only text with no imagery, and decorations with basic embroidery were far more common. Medals that resembled works of art were attempted only on a very limited basis among the wealthy.
Beauty makes something feel special in its own right. There’s a reason those predatory credit card companies put so much effort into card designs. They’re taking advantage of consumers’ weakness for beautiful things.
It was statistically proven that humans were susceptible to beauty. Even ordinary people tended to overspend more when their credit cards had attractive designs.
If each beautiful medal was also engraved with the soldier’s name and achievements, the pride and value its owner attached to it would become even greater.
Let’s make a proper medal of merit instead of something mass-produced. For the first trial recipient, I’ll give it to Gilles de Rais for his consistent performance as the Knight Buster.
Maxime took out some bronze and began working the metal. He engraved an image of Gilles de Rais smashing a knight with his weapon. He also added the shortened name “Gill”.
The inner piece was complete. Maxime fitted a suitable frame around the metal and secured it in place.
***
He had been making the medal in his spare time, but several things happened along the way.
“…Where did you pick this up this time?”
“Woof, woof!”
Walter had brought him another jewel. Ever since he had brought back that lump of gold and gotten praised and rewarded for it, he kept showing up with ownerless jewels and gold from who knew where.
“What are you, a loot magnet? No, even a loot magnet couldn’t pull this off.”
“Woof?”
The resin collector also stopped by. He had brought the pine resin Maxime requested right on time.
“I set aside the amount you asked for.”
“Thank you.”
“You even paid me extra. I should be thanking you!”
Silver firs were commonly found in well-drained, nutrient-rich soil. Thanks to that, obtaining thick resin around Orléans had not been difficult.
Let’s get started.
Maxime poured the resin into a metal pot and began slowly heating it over low heat. Raising the temperature too quickly would make it difficult to remove the bubbles, leaving the amber-like transparent layer cloudy.
He maintained a suitable temperature while continuously skimming away the bubbles that rose to the surface. He could not stop boiling it until the bubbles had completely disappeared. At the same time, boiling it for too long would alter its properties, so careful temperature control was crucial.
Once all the bubbles were gone, he mixed beeswax and oil into the purified resin at a ratio of 7:2:1. Once dried, the mixture would become a hard yet crack-resistant artificial amber.
He poured the hot resin over the finished metal medal for Gilles de Rais. It soon began to cool and harden. To improve its durability, he planned to leave it in a dry place for several days to cure.
He applied a glassy glaze to the surface. Once the hard protective coating was complete, the medal would become even clearer and more resistant to scratches.
It’s not perfectly transparent like modern clear resin, but under the light, you can faintly see the inside through the artificial amber. It gives it a nice look.
He melted gold onto the necklace setting surrounding the amber and even worked decorative patterns into it.
Hopefully, this will help attract members to the order.
Maxime had no idea just how much of an impact his creation would have. He might have grown accustomed to medieval sensibilities, but it was still difficult to predict how people would react when something appeared that they desperately coveted.
***
All right… time to go in.
Jeanne d’Arc had finished preparing to charm Maxime. She had no real idea what counted as pretty clothing, so she simply wore the new outfit she had received as a gift. She had no particular ulterior motive, but instinctively made sure even her undergarments were neatly arranged.
She took dozens of deep breaths before finally managing to open the door. It had taken her an entire hour just to work up the courage.
“I brought you something to eat. You can have it while you work!”
Maxime’s response came about three seconds late.
“…You could’ve asked someone else to bring it, but thank you. You always look out for me.”
With Maxime sitting in front of her, Jeanne d’Arc took out the food one dish at a time.
“Go ahead and eat.”
“Huh? Oh. Okay.”
She did not leave after setting down the food. Instead, she stayed and quietly watched Maxime eat.
“Does it taste good? I brought some chicken too. If you like it, should I bring you more?”
The questions kept coming. Seeing her unusually talkative, Maxime came to his own conclusion.
If she’s this concerned about my meals… have I been neglecting them that badly? I guess I made her worry for no reason.
From Jeanne’s perspective, she was simply using practical matters as an excuse to keep the conversation going. If she discovered something Maxime liked, she intended to remember it and improve his meals accordingly.
This was the limit of a simple country girl’s imagination as she tried her best to charm someone she liked.
“You can go now. I’ll take care of the dishes.”
“No, it’s okay! I’ll wait!”
Maxime felt bad about making Jeanne d’Arc wait. So he ate faster and quickly emptied the dishes.
Ah…
Jeanne d’Arc was simply disappointed that their time together had ended so quickly.
“Thanks. That was good.”
“Okay!”
That single remark immediately brightened her mood.
On the way back, a smile slowly spread across the Saintess’s face.
***
On the southern bank of the Loire near Orléans, General John Talbot, stationed at Meung-sur-Loire, had meticulously fortified his defenses to an almost obsessive degree, befitting his exacting personality. The position was so formidable that any French commander who saw it would have hesitated to even attempt an assault.
“This looks strong enough to stop any enemy… But what if somewhere else falls first?”
John Talbot’s fears proved justified. News of Jargeau’s fall put the English commanders on high alert.
“We need to coordinate! Where is Fastolf?!”
“General Fastolf has arrived at Janville.”
Talbot immediately hurried to Janville to discuss their plans going forward.
However, the two men sharply disagreed.
“The strength of the French army has already been proven. And you still intend to stay inside a fortress and defend it under these circumstances? Do you plan to get us all killed? We should withdraw the garrison at Meung-sur-Loire and regroup farther north, where I’m stationed. If we cut off their trade routes along the Loire, they’ll feel the pressure as well.”
“I’ve built extensive defensive positions, and you want me to abandon them?! Is fleeing without fighting a single battle something a proud English general should be saying?! Come see the defenses I built with your own eyes!”
Fastolf was cautious and defensive by nature, while Talbot was bold and never one to shy away from a fight.
Even when faced with the same situation, different people approached the problem in different ways and arrived at different conclusions. With no single correct answer, finding common ground was difficult.
“…Let’s calm down for now.”
In the end, Fastolf yielded to Talbot’s forceful insistence and backed down.
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