My Ex-Girlfriend Was Appointed as a Knight Commander

Chapter 28

In an unexpected turn of events, there was actually a tavern in the Wilderness.

Given the lively atmosphere that sometimes filled the place, it wasn't entirely surprising that a tavern existed. Although it was rare for the lights to stay on late into the night, tonight, the tavern owner willingly offered the space and a break for the knights guarding the Wilderness.

The tavern, now occupied by knights and soldiers, was buzzing with activity. It had been a while since Maxim had experienced such an atmosphere, and he found it both nostalgic and somewhat uncomfortable. Delicious dishes that he hadn't seen in a long time were being served, along with drinkable alcohol.

Maxim sighed with anticipation as the smell of roasting meat wafted through the air. As he did, a man with a hooked nose and long, messy hair sat down beside him, letting out a sigh or perhaps a groan.

"Finally, a day off. You've worked hard, Maxim."

"You too, Roberto."

Roberto, whom Maxim hadn't seen in a while, looked exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes that hinted at the struggles he had been through. Maxim couldn't help but smile at the sense of camaraderie he felt with Roberto’s expression. Roberto downed a large mug of alcohol in one go and slammed it onto the table with a clatter of plates.

"I'm beat."

"Damn it. The work we did in the previous knight order was nothing more than village patrol duty. How the hell have people managed to survive in a place like this for 15 years? They must all be out of their minds. Ugh."

Roberto let out an unrefined belch, causing Maxim to wave him away.

"Ah, don't worry, Maxim. My burps don't smell."

"Screw off, you lunatic. Get away from me."

"How harsh."@@@@

Roberto chuckled in a slurred voice, already showing signs of intoxication. Maxim made a disgusted face and pushed Roberto away. Just then, a familiar face appeared between them, a man with a scruffy beard who looked like he hadn’t had time to shave. It was Paola. At this point, even his rough appearance was starting to feel familiar.

"Still getting along well, I see."

Maxim was secretly relieved that Paola had come between him and Roberto, as the foul smell of the burp had dissipated. Paola sat down and, like Roberto, immediately gulped down a large mug of ale.

"Ah, this drink isn't bad."

"How did you manage to fight here?" Roberto asked, looking at Paola with admiration. Paola swung his now-empty mug with a smirk.

"Back then, we didn't even have time to drink like this, you know. Do you have any idea what happens when a person fights for five days and nights without sleep?"

Paola tapped the rim of his empty mug with his finger. Roberto, who had asked a server for another keg of ale, replied to Paola's question.

"I wouldn’t know; I've never gone five days without sleep. Maybe three days, though."

"You learn to sleep standing up, leaning on a spear stuck in the ground. Honestly, as long as I had a moment to stand still, I could sleep. I’ve nodded off standing up."

Paola gave the innkeeper a rough smile as the latter brought over a large keg of ale, then filled the mugs of Maxim, Roberto, and himself.

"To be honest, there were times when I swung my spear in my sleep. I must have killed at least a dozen monsters while asleep."

"You didn’t use mana to stay awake?" Roberto asked.

"What are you talking about? If I had any mana left, I'd use it to reinforce my aura or strengthen my body. Who has any mana to spare to keep themselves awake?"

Normally, Roberto would have challenged Paola's story, calling it a boast, but this time he remained silent, apparently in agreement.

"I hope it doesn’t come to that," Maxim muttered as he sipped his drink. "Fighting for five days without sleep, like you said."

"You mean 15 years ago? Don’t even get me started. Compared to that, this is practically a vacation. I told you about how many waves of monsters we faced."

Paola bit into a piece of bread.

"Not that there's any guarantee it won’t happen again. We’ll need to deal with this situation properly."

As they listened to Paola's stories and drank their ale, steaming dishes began to arrive. A large roast pig was placed on the table before them. Maxim, secretly salivating, commented.

"Where do they get food like this?"

"Supply convoys arrive every two weeks to replenish our provisions. The next supply date is in three days."

A slightly husky voice answered. It was likely from someone who smoked a lot. Across from Paola, Roberto, and Maxim, the marquis of the frontier sat down, placing her mug on the table. Setting the mug down like that seemed to be a trend. As the three men made uncomfortable faces at the sight, the marquis's expression sharpened.

"What? Do you have a problem?"

Paola answered on behalf of the group.

"Not at all. But is it okay for you to leave your subordinates and sit with us?"

The marquis rolled her eyes in mild annoyance.

"It’s fine. I see their faces every day."

The marquis didn't hesitate to pick up a knife and began expertly carving the pig. Maxim watched, amazed by her skilled knife work. Roberto quickly recovered his composure and continued the conversation.

"By the way, when the supply convoy comes, they must bring quite a lot."

"Essential goods like grain are replenished quarterly or irregularly as needed. The regular supplies are mostly things that are hard to store or spoil quickly."

Christine, her face flushed red, was approaching him, holding a sloshing glass. Maxim suddenly felt his buzz fading. How much has she had to drink?

"You’ve got to be kidding me..."

Maxim felt a sudden wave of dizziness. Half-panicked, he glanced at the two men next to him for help, but...

"Uh, sorry."

Roberto was the first to stand up with his glass.

"Did I say something?"

Paola followed suit, inexplicably puffing up with pride.

Maxim glared at the two of them with a look full of resentment as they walked away.

"Hey, help me out here!"

"Sorry."

"Do your best. Be sure to tell us all about it later."

They were no help at all.

"Deputy Commander... I’m right here... why are you talking to someone else?"

Oh, no.

Christine plopped down next to Maxim, nearly knocking him over.

"Hey... Christine... Could you sit a little farther away?"

Maxim, alarmed, quickly glanced around. Thankfully, since he was sitting in the most secluded corner, no one seemed to be paying them any attention. The only exception was Paola and Roberto, who had settled at a distant table and were subtly raising their glasses in his direction.

"Deputy Commandeeer... hehe."

She’s completely wasted.

Christine giggled like a drunken fool. Maxim was sweating bullets.

Thud.

Christine’s head suddenly rested on Maxim’s arm, and her arms wrapped around his right arm. Maxim froze in place. He tried to gently push her away with his free left hand, but...

"I won’t let go."

She wasn’t someone he could easily push away with a light touch.

"You..."

As a last resort, Maxim tried to pinch her cheek, but his hand ended up fumbling awkwardly near her mouth.

"Mmm."

Mmm?

Maxim looked down at his hand, feeling a soft, squishy sensation.

"Hey..."

Christine was biting on his finger, looking up at him with wide eyes. Maxim was utterly frozen.

"You..."

"Hehe."

Maxim’s eyes met Christine’s. This situation was beyond saving. Desperate, Maxim looked for help from Roberto and Paola one last time, but the two were deliberately ignoring him, though they kept glancing over, clearly keeping tabs on what was happening.

"Get up."

Maxim flicked Christine’s forehead.

Thwack!

Christine grabbed her forehead and pulled away from him, groaning as she half-sat, half-lay there, still drowsy.

"Deputy Commander... That hurt..."

"Either get up or go to sleep, pick one."

"Okay... Then I’ll sleep..."

Christine mumbled as she collapsed onto the table. Maxim, seeing her fall asleep with a wobbly smile on her face, grabbed his head in frustration.

"Great, now I have to carry her again..."