Chapter 320
Chapter 320
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: EP.68 – The Knight Acts in the Time to Ask for Permission (1)
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Time is relative.
When doing something you absolutely hate, it drags on forever, while joyful moments slip away in the blink of an eye.
And,
"Winter break's already over? Feels like we just went home yesterday."
"We're second-years now? ...Hmm, what did we even do to advance?"
"...Exactly."
The confused murmurs of cadets gathered after finishing their respective winter hibernations.
Well, nothing strange about it.
It's the standard sight every year when winter break ends and grades advance.
It's also a symbol of peacefulness.
A few years ago, the war caused the Academy to close its doors frequently, with cadets either returning to their families or steeling themselves to join the fight.
But now they can enjoy the spring like this and whine on full stomachs—what a laughable luxury.
Peacefulness.
Yes, though the kingdom had its share of incidents, an air of peace prevailed.
Without any hint of chaos...
Bang!
"Is that what you call words?!"
Everyone flinched!
But those who knew this peace stemmed from ignorance were filled with rage.
"Hiding what happened in Modred!? Is that what you think you should say!? No, is that even something a human would utter?!"
The one bellowing at the top of his lungs was the head of a prestigious family.
He was famous for upholding chivalry and even stood as a voice of conscience in the corrupt noble assembly.
"Councilor, please lower your voice. This is a place for discussion, not fighting."
"They're the ones making me furious! Furious!!"
"Even so, this is the Kingdom's Grand Conference Hall. And... aren't there noble presences seated here?"
"...Hmph!"
The noble who had raised his voice fell silent at the chairman's words, who was acting as mediator.
The Kingdom's Grand Conference.
A gathering of nobles, guild alliances, merchant unions, the Mercenary Union, temples—representatives of the southern powers—and held perhaps once every three years.
Nobles, merchants, guild executives, mercenaries, priests.
None of them had a moment to spare.
Yet they carved out time for this, making such conferences exceedingly rare.
...And this particular one was even more extraordinary, probably because,
Swipe.
'No way those lords would attend. Well, they personally fought in the [Modred Defense Battle], so it's only natural?'
The heads of families who stood a cut above even among the kingdom's nobles were visible.
'I've glimpsed Marchioness Jemimia informally once, but seeing them this close up is a first.'
Nobles—no, executives from every faction were alike breaking out in cold sweats.
Even ordinary conferences were notorious for reckless outbursts eclipsing discussion, with brawls often erupting.
But unlike usual, a heavy silence blanketed this one now.
...All because those lords were present.
"You, not heading back north?"
"Gotta settle things first. Proxy's handling it. You, Blake—not going home? Always cooped up there."
"Hmph, mind your own business, Magnus."
The lord of Galahad and the lord of Lionel.
With those two lords here, no one dared spout nonsense or start their usual tussles.
That would only earn their ire, something everyone wanted to avoid.
Better to displease the royals!
...However.
"...Still, everyone's spouting utter nonsense. Hiding Modred I can barely stomach, but vampires, high demons, and even the Great Saintess? Whose deranged idea is that? Raise your hand—I won't get mad."
[......]
"I said raise it."
......Though they were already plenty displeased.
It was Crown Princess Isis's remark. The two lords signaled silent agreement with their heavy gazes, while the more timid ones trembled like frightened chickens, their faces draining to ghostly white.
And their anger was entirely justified.
They sought to hide everything from the populace—no less.
[The fierce and honorable war in Modred.]
[The emergence of the legendary vampire monster.]
[The Blood Crusade's soul-evasion measures.]
[The descent of a high demon.]
[The Great Saintess's arrival after a millennium.]
And even that Great Saintess's noble sacrifice...!
Each piece of news could shake the kingdom—no, the entire south to its core. The lords could only half-close their eyes at the factions insisting on total secrecy.
Of course, one could dismiss it as empty rhetoric...
"If you doubt my words, we can replay the [Image Orb]. Nothing more ironclad as proof."
Image Orb.
The name of the recent magic tool co-invented by mages and alchemists alongside cameras, capable of storing images.
Absurdly expensive, so few owned them. Yet every participant in the so-called Modred Defense Battle carried one and personally recorded their fights.
Proof overflowed; none dared claim it fake.
Instead...
'They saw it—that's why we're speechless.'
'Suspected fakes so much, damn monsters...'
'Never, ever turn them hostile. Our Merchant Union would vanish in an instant!'
Those who viewed the footage were trembling.
They'd witnessed overwhelming might and confirmed the great houses' true power.
No one harbored even a shred of desire to antagonize them, nor did any dare reveal greed or schemes here.
Why?
...Because pulling that would mean turning up dead tomorrow—no surprise.
The more one had to lose, the stronger the instinct to live long. They entertained no defiance.
...None did.
"Whoa, Your Highness knows exactly what we're saying. Indeed, this can't be hidden. Absolutely. But not now."
"Hmm."
One gathered courage to counter.
"Y-you know, don't you, wise Highness? If this info leaks, the south plunges into uncontrollable chaos. Tremendous chaos...!"
"...Keep going."
"Hoo..."
The one granted further chance was a minister thriving in the Prime Minister's Office.
Disciple of the former prime minister and current Pendragon Academy chancellor, no less.
"...First, my thanks. You bled and fought, granting the kingdom this peace. Without you, we'd have 'collapsed.' Sincere gratitude!"
This was no flattery.
Pure fact.
'Gave me chills...'
He'd seen the footage.
Over 600,000 monsters.
If unleashed on the kingdom, it'd be reduced to rubble.
But monsters were the lesser evil.
A demon? A high demon descending into this world—what then?
Especially when even temples, demons' nemeses, couldn't function in this desperate state?
"The kingdom might've needed to brace for a Stone Age regression. No jest or speculation—high demons wield that power. So, thanks. Sincere from the Prime Minister's Office."
However.
"We—the Prime Minister's Office—must face reality beyond gratitude. So I apologize to Your Highness and the others in advance. ...This must stay secret. At least until ten years from now."
"...The economy?"
"You already knew..."
As expected of Crown Princess Isis—a reasonable interlocutor.
"Economy? Why here?"
"?"
...The fact that others couldn't grasp reality was utterly depressing.
The minister inwardly pitied them.
The high ones already knew, yet these nobles demanded explanations, clueless.
Damn brutes who swung swords ignorantly, never cracking an economics tome!
"Sigh. To explain: the kingdom's economy is in crisis. The massive losses from the Britann war three years ago are trouble enough, but recent events have pushed it to dire straits. Pendragon's economic credit could even waver."
"Economic credit?"
"That serious?"
"Whoever said that—get out of the hall! No basics, unfit to sit here!!"
Bang!
No one retorted to his excited desk slam.
Indeed, sharing a table with such ignoramuses was shameful enough.
Midwits half-grasp; clueless should stay mum—those fools reddened under glares.
"Credit waver means economy shakes! Diplomacy crippled, foreign traders doubt Pendragon! Dismiss as minor now? Commoners might, but we can't! Economy collapse dooms sans war! Money downfall!"
"Economy is key, economy!!"
"Got it, you fools?!"
Some nobles scorned merchant nobles as undignified money-grubbers, but that stemmed from their families' resource wealth granting economic freedom—not any superior competence or nobility.
How many resource-dependent "noble" houses had crumbled to street beggars?
The Prime Minister's Office minister wore a look of utter disgust at sharing nobility with these incompetents.
"Sigh, anyway—for these reasons, we must hide this. Not forever. Just ten years, please. By then..."
"-You'll forget again."
"......"
...The minister was momentarily speechless.
"Repay later? Fine words, but everyone forgets. Reason we're safe, enjoying peace? Sacrifices—forgotten."
"Th-that's..."
"Listen. You harp on reality, but is chasing it blindly the answer? Neglect intangible faith—who steps up for kingdom? No repay for lifetime sacrificers, kingdom-saving heroes—who trusts us then?"
"......"
"A friend mentioned 'discard spent hound, erase traces.'"
"!!?"
"Yes, not accusing you outright. How equate hound with noble Great Saintess? But don't fixate on practical alone. Pure profit-chasing? How earn populace trust? Beyond economic credit, secure people's trust—that's my ask of the Prime Minister's Office."
"......"
The minister fell silent at Isis's words.
Losing the people's trust was as terrifying as economic collapse.
"......"
Silence blanketed the hall; none dared break it.
Shattering it required words convincing all— no easy feat...
Then.
Bang!
"P-pardon the intrusion!"
The silence shattered.
In the most irksome way.
"What is this, you cur?!"
Nobles raised voices at the knight brazenly invading the sacred conference; others voiced displeasure.
However urgent, barging without leave slighted their authority.
They glared murderously, but the knight had no time for that, blurting urgently.
"Th-the! M-mountain's been shaved off! A g-giant statue...!"
"What?!"
"A s-statue appeared! 100 meters tall, a massive woman's statue!!"
"??"
"Look outside now!"
"......?"
They eyed the rude knight dubiously but, swayed by urgency, began exiting the hall.
What utter nonsense...
"Wh-what is that!?"
"???"
"Nothing there yesterday? I-I swear I saw!!"
They knew.
Just yesterday, no structures in that direction.
Yet now.
"St-statue?!"
Despite the distance from the Grand Conference Hall, a massive, beautiful woman-shaped statue dominated the view, asserting its presence fiercely.
Insanely huge.
Regardless of status or occupation, all gaped slack-jawed, dumbfounded and speechless.
...An inexplicable phenomenon rivaling a heavenly calamity.
And...
"Now that I think, my royal little brother has been darting about busily these past two weeks..."
"Rack—my disciple's always been odd, but never this reckless."
"......Maximus, that walking disaster of a brother..."
The lords who instantly fingered the culprits behind this outrage felt their blood pressure spike.
They'd wondered what those suddenly chummy three were up to...
"What a colossal blunder."
They realized what happens when three fools who shouldn't unite do so.