Chapter 65
Chapter 65
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>Translator: Lord First
>Chapter: 65
>Chapter Title: The King's Hypocrisy
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*
“Ivan. A royal guard dozing off on his feet. The world must be at peace.”
“Hk…!”
Startled by the low voice ringing in his ear, Ivan snapped his head up.
His blurred vision slowly came into focus. A bright day, the familiar interior of a military tent.
He quickly scanned his surroundings, the way a trained agent would upon finding himself in an unfamiliar place.
First, assess the terrain.
“What…?”
After a quick scan of the tent, Ivan was momentarily speechless, murmuring blankly.
The seal of a roaring bear on a red banner.
A spacious tent, a massive log table with a tactical map spread across it.
A work desk, and seated behind it, a colossal silhouette.
Broad shoulders, thick forearms, and two piercing blue eyes that shone brilliantly.
“Ah…”
“Ivan? Are you unwell?”
“Ahhh…”
Setting down his clattering utensils, the man slowly rose to his feet.
A large shadow stretched out, blocking the light in the tent. Ivan's legs gave way as he knelt on one knee and bowed his head.
“I… greet my liege.”
“…Yes. You have. What are you doing now?”
“I am…”
Ivan raised his head, his eyes filled with confusion.
A warm gaze full of concern, a massive hand patting his shoulder before pulling back.
‘The Great One,’ ‘The Thunderer,’ ‘The Bear of Krasilov,’ ‘The Conqueror,’ ‘Great King’... The man known by countless names to friend and foe alike, was now.
Now looking down at him. With the same gaze from those days, with the same face.
This is a dream.
Ivan quickly collected himself.
If this was a dream of those days, he couldn't make a mistake. The moment the dream diverged from his memory, he might wake up.
Think. This situation must be a memory from his past. And not an ordinary one, but a deeply impressive one.
I can't wake up. Not yet.
Just then, Ivan's eyes fell on the utensils on the desk. Ah, it was that time.
It was shortly after he began serving as the Great King's royal guard. He remembered. That was the day he had seen the king's meal for the first time.
The question he had asked then was definitely…
“I thought Your Majesty would be eating a better meal than this.”
“Hmm? Haha! You mean this? Is it that dreadful?”
“Is this not the kind of fare a conscript would eat?”
“It is.”
The Great King chuckled, mashing a potato with his fork. He spread the potato on a dry biscuit, dipped it in water, and chewed for a long moment before speaking.
“This is my hypocrisy.”
“Hypocrisy… Your Majesty?”
“The common folk would surely praise me if they heard I ate such things. 'Oh, what a frugal king!' Haha, they'd be wrong.”
The Great King gulped down some water and set his cup down.
“Do you know how much it costs for the nobles and royals of this country, those high and mighty folk, to eat their fine meals and shit their fine shit? There was a time when the cost of feeding ten of those bastards was comparable to the meal budget for an entire division of soldiers.”
“…”
“If those bastards ate less, imagine how much the survival rate of our soldiers would increase. We could provide them with slightly sturdier armor, give them even a handful more of ammunition. Now, Ivan. Do you know what must be done to tell those noble bastards to eat less?”
The Great King shrugged and tapped his empty plate.
“I must first eat less myself. If there is any man audacious enough to eat finer things than the king of this country, well... I can personally acknowledge his courage and send him to the vanguard. Now, what do you think of my hypocrisy?”
“I do not understand why that is hypocrisy…”
“Because I, too, have no desire to eat this crap.”
The Great King let out a hearty laugh and clapped Ivan on the shoulder.
“That is why it is hypocrisy, is it not? I do not do this because I truly wish to, but because I am putting on a play to intimidate those fools called nobles into saving a coin or two. How could this not be hypocrisy? Hmm? Come, Ivan. Now I shall show you the terrifying greed only a king can display.”
The Great King grinned playfully and strode over to the table, opening a drawer beneath it.
A half-dried bunch of grapes, a chunk of smoked ham with congealed fat, and a bottle of milk appeared.
“Is it not truly fearsome? This is the terrible result of a king's greed and extravagance.”
“That… um.”
“What? Do you dare oppose my words? While claiming to save money and forcing dry food upon the nobles, I have been feasting on such a banquet behind their backs!”
“I... see.”
“Haha, you must be too young to understand. Do you have any idea how much of an administrative burden it is to get milk all the way to this front without it spoiling? Ah, right. How old did you say you were?”
“Eighteen, Your Majesty.”
The Great King frowned, looking at Ivan's shoulders and forearms.
“And yet you're so scrawny for a young man.”
Ivan was a man of common sense, so he did not grumble at the king. However, he was taller and more built than the average person in this uncivilized, pre-modern world.
It was just that the man before him was simply too massive.
The king chuckled and gestured with his hand.
“Come and eat.”
“…Pardon?”
“I said come and eat, for I must add another line to my hypocrisy. How can I maintain my dignity when the royal guard who escorts me is so scrawny? Eat and grow bigger. 'Little' Ivan.”
The Great King smiled with satisfaction and pushed the plate toward him.
Ivan was a patient man, but he could not resist the temptation of greasy meat and fresh milk for long.
After all, even when he was growing up as the son of a tenant farmer, milk was a luxury he couldn't have dreamed of tasting.
There was no way to keep it fresh, as it would spoil in an instant. Any milk left after tributes had to be processed into cheese or butter. In this primitive world, even preservation was no easy task.
When he came to his senses, Ivan was already devouring the ham and milk.
The Great King watched the scene in silence for a long while before letting out a sigh.
“Truly, my sins run deep.”
“Pardon? Ah, I apologize, Your Majesty.”
“Enough. What is there to apologize for? What reason have you to be sorry for the depth of my sins?”
The Great King said as he cleared the empty plate himself.
“A world where a young man your age loses his mind over a cheap piece of meat... is not right. When I ascended to the throne, this country was not like this. Once a week, the smell of baking bread and roasting meat would fill the streets of Frichenkaya.”
The Great King finally shook his head.
“I don't know what I'm saying to a boy not even half my age. Enough. Pay it no mind. Ivan, from this day forward, you will be my companion during my meals.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“I can at least feed one young lad, so the authority of this king is truly great. It shouldn't be a problem to add one more poor subject to be fooled by my hypocrisy.”
The Great King chuckled and gestured with his hand. It was a sign for him to leave.
Ivan bowed deeply and slowly backed away, leaving the tent.
The 16th year of his transmigration. A day during his 6th year of military service.
Outside the tent, the military camp was filled with soldiers despairing, their faces etched with defeat as they trudged along.
Krasilov was falling.
No, humanity was facing extinction.
The Hero would not appear until two years after this point.
Therefore, Ivan sometimes had a thought.
If only the Hero had found us a little sooner, the Great King might still be alive.
He, too, could have lived to see the smoke from the meat-roasting hearths rise again in Frichenkaya, and smile.
If that had happened, perhaps. Ivan might have been able to like this world a little more.
Everything he had ever respected, revered, or admired had perished in the eighteen years of war.
He wanted kimchi jjigae.
“Is this all you've got?”
Ivan stood in the middle of the camp and looked up at the sky.
“If you're trying to show me regrets or lingering attachments, this isn't enough. Is this all you've got?”
The days when he was young enough to be swayed by a mere dream were long gone. Ivan thought as he stared at the sky.
He didn't know why an ancient ruin powerful enough to instantly destroy a dwarven excavation artifact would try to trick him with a mere illusion like this.
But if it believed it could break him with a temptation of this level, wasn't that a foolish thought?
Ivan reached into his coat. His essential gear, which he always carried, was in his grasp.
Thought immediately translated into action. He drew a dagger, stabbed it into his forearm, and poured a healing potion over the wound.
With a sizzling pain.
-*CRACK!!*-
The dream shattered.
*
Ivan's senses returned as he took a step forward.
The last thing he remembered seeing was the view just before he leaped over the cliff's edge, through the surging mana.
He figured he had finally arrived at the ancient ruins.
“This is.”
His blurry vision quickly sharpened, and his lost senses returned to his body one by one.
Ivan rolled his shoulders lightly and looked around. A cleanly swept corridor, massive stone pillars, reliefs carved from marble, a vast ceiling….
It was a great hall lined with incomprehensible statues.
“A temple…?”
Ivan carefully got to his feet and began to walk. Along with the sound of wind from a distance, he heard the faint sound of breathing much closer.
As he approached the source of the sound, he saw Elfihera lying neatly on the floor with her eyes closed.
“Wake up.”
Ivan lightly slapped Elfihera's cheek. With a sharp *smack*, Elfihera shot up, startled.
“Mmph?! W-what is this, all of a sudden…!”
“Shh.”
We don't know what's here, so be quiet for now.
Elfihera, who had fallen silent at Ivan's gesture and was looking around, suddenly grumbled.
“Sheesh… that was a really great dream…”
“I'm sure it was.”
“Humans, I swear. Stupid, dull, and rude on top of it all. Where did you learn such atrocious manners, waking someone up like that…”
“Still not fully awake?”
Ivan looked at the grumbling Elfihera and raised his hand. If she wasn't fully awake from her dream, he was more than willing to wake her up again.
Startled, Elfihera covered her cheek and shook her head.
“We need to start deciphering the ancient language.”
“Where?”
“Everywhere here.”
Ivan gestured with his chin toward the reliefs that covered the ceiling and stone pillars.
Elfihera stared up blankly, then slowly opened her mouth and laughed in disbelief.
“All of this…?”
“Isn't that why we came?”
“I'm more of a brains-over-brawn type, so I'm not great with manual labor.”
“Can you even read it?”
“What do you take me for…! Of course I can. Let me see. Hmm… mmm… huh?”
Elfihera immediately approached a nearby pillar, frowned for a long moment, and then spoke.
“Didn't you say this was a 1,500-year-old relic?”
“I did.”
“For this kind of deciphering, you probably should have called a priest, not a mage.”
Elfihera stepped back with a bewildered expression.
“A priest?”
“Yes, this is Ancient Dellen... you know, the language used in the holy scriptures. It's an old language, but it's something priests learn in their basic studies.”
“And you can't?”
“Of course not. Obviously, I can read it too. Seriously, what do you take me for? A mere human.”
“…”
Elfihera twitched her ears as she scanned the relief.
“This... it's a victory monument...?”
“A victory monument.”
“Yes, it's filled with praises for the God of Light. A victory monument… what on earth did they fight against to build such a magnificent ruin…”
“Hmm.”
Did the 'common knowledge' of this academy setting include anything about 'ancient ruins from a primeval era where a great demon was sealed'?
I hope not.
Ivan checked his gear and clicked his tongue.
*