Chapter 137
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 137
The option to let Ivar live had never existed from the start.
An old ruler would never acknowledge a new one, so the only choice was to kill him and sweep him aside.
However, Ivar was a man of considerable reputation among the tribespeople. Even for Lucian, killing him outright risked sparking a subtle, underlying resentment.
‘That’s why I tried to produce a result so overwhelming that everyone would have no choice but to accept it...’
He hadn't expected it to go beyond awe and incite actual terror. The effect hadn't just been good; it had been excessive.
‘In the short term, it’s not bad for suppressing dissent, but it won’t be good if this atmosphere persists. I’ll have to ease up when the time is right.’
Those suppressed by fear eventually become unable to voice even a single grievance. While that might allow work to proceed quickly for now, it becomes a problem when those grievances continue to pile up. One must know the complaints of the subjects to resolve them; otherwise, they simply fester in silence behind one's back.
‘Well, it’ll make things easier for the time being. Since it’s turned out like this, I might as well wrap things up quickly.’
Even if the atmosphere was different from what he intended, the best course of action was to utilize the situation once it had formed. Lucian spoke to the tribespeople in a calm voice, loud enough for everyone to hear.
“I gave Ivar several opportunities. The chance to step down from the position of chieftain in accordance with the Dragon’s Will and serve me. However, even after losing the Dragon’s Protection, the chieftain could not let go of his lingering attachments and continued to aim for my throat.”
“...”
“There is nothing more unsightly than clinging to rights already lost. Therefore, I intend to teach a lesson with their heads, so that you may pass this story down to future generations for ages to come.”
A lesson on what happens to those who cling to old thrones even when a true king has arrived. A lesson on what end awaits those who mistake another’s rights for their own.
At Lucian’s words, the tribespeople bowed their waists even deeper in a solemn posture. To them, Ivar had been a true warrior, but these were the words of a king who was like the second coming of the Dragon. Who would dare speak up when he claimed to have seen through a dark truth they could never have known?
However, one brave tribesman raised a question at Lucian’s words.
“Th-then why did you spare Einar—urk!”
The man, who had been speaking with his head slightly raised, slammed his face into the ground with a wheezing sound. It was because his wife, pale with fright at her husband’s actions, had grabbed the back of his head and shoved it down.
“Dear! Are you mad!? How dare you talk back to the King...!”
“It’s alright. Leave him be. I was planning on explaining anyway.”
Lucian spoke with a light chuckle, as if he didn't mind at all.
“It is because only Einar felt shame at Ivar’s greed. He had no intention of winning from the start. He only sought to atone to me by dying alongside his family.”
“W-was that it?”
“Do you doubt me?”
“No! Not at all!”
The man, terrified by Lucian’s sharp gaze, pressed his head against the ground. He had already committed the impudence of questioning the King’s words. To doubt even that kind explanation would be tantamount to a death wish.
Once the man, realizing the situation, fell silent, Lucian looked around the surroundings again and spoke.
“Since only Einar knew shame and sought his own death, I, as King, intend to give him one last chance.”
The very same chance that had been given to his father, Ivar, but which he had ultimately kicked away. It might have been excessive mercy, but in Lucian’s eyes, Einar was worthy of it.
“Move Einar inside! When he opens his eyes, I shall ask him!”
Whether he would obediently serve Lucian as the new King, or choose death to follow his family. At the King’s firm declaration, the tribespeople could only bow their heads deeply.
*
‘...Am I still alive?’
Einar blinked his eyes in his blurred vision. He didn't need to pinch his cheek to check if he was alive or dead. His entire body throbbed as if he had tumbled down from the peak of a snowy mountain.
‘Seeing as how I’m aching all over, I suppose I am alive.’
“Are you awake?”
Einar flinched at the voice coming from beside him. Forcing his aching body to turn, Einar identified the speaker and muttered with a groan.
“The Foreign King...”
“Is that how you usually think of me? You’re surprisingly generous with your titles.”
Lucian chuckled at the title used by the half-awake Einar. Calling him 'King' in that state meant he had already acknowledged Lucian as king in his heart.
Einar, barely regaining his senses amidst the pain, spoke with difficulty.
“What happened to my father and Brunda?”
“They’re dead. Both were beheaded.”
“Did you strike them down?”
“Who else would have?”
“I see.”
Einar let out a deep sigh and laid his body back on the floor. It was a result he had expected, but he couldn't help the bitterness in his heart.
If only he had accepted reality sooner and acknowledged Lucian as king. If he had held those two back, even by force, and made them kneel before Lucian... If he had done that, perhaps their lives could have been spared.
“Don’t waste your time on useless thoughts.”
It was Lucian’s voice that broke Einar’s reverie.
“Do you think anything would have changed if you had acted differently in that situation? If they couldn't accept the result of their own will, they would have bared their fangs again sooner or later. Even if things had miraculously worked out, I would have dealt with them with my own hands eventually.”
“...Then why did you spare me? Shouldn't you have dealt with me as well to leave no seeds of future trouble?”
“Why? Do you suddenly want to avenge your father and brother?”
Einar could say nothing. As a son, it was only right to seek revenge for his family, but he couldn't bring himself to feel that way. Their deaths were essentially their own doing.
After a moment of silence, a sigh escaped Einar’s lips.
“I don’t particularly wish to do so.”
“Then the answer is clear. Serve me, just like Gunstein.”
Einar’s eyes widened at Lucian’s words. He had vaguely expected it since he was spared, but he was truly going to take him in?
“Are you in your right mind? You killed my father and brother.”
“And you said you have no intention of seeking revenge.”
“No, that’s true, but... what if I change my mind later?”
“Will you?”
“No, I don’t plan to! But that’s not what I mean!?”
Frustrated, Einar unconsciously beat his chest. He couldn't tell if this man was just a fool or if his boldness was simply off the charts. While Einar was stammering, not knowing what to say...
“This is exactly why I don't like you. You can't even recognize a blessing when it rolls right in front of you, and you just stand there wavering.”
Einar flinched at the familiar voice. Gunstein, who had been there since who knows when, was sitting in a corner with a crooked posture, glaring at Einar. Before Einar could say anything, a contemptuous sneer flowed from Gunstein’s lips.
“This is why I couldn't give up my succession rights even if I wanted to. I figured it would be much better for me to become chieftain myself than to serve under people like you.”
“What are you talking about all of a sudden? In the first place...”
“Do you like being so 'pure'? Are you that afraid of a stain on your name?”
Einar couldn't understand what he was talking about. Wasn't valuing honor a natural duty for a warrior? But Gunstein continued to lash out, as if he wouldn't listen to Einar’s rebuttal.
“What is it you actually want to do? No, do you even have something you want to do? Does it not matter if you live a mediocre life and die, as long as your name remains clean?”
“What is wrong with that? Is the desire to live purely as a warrior so wrong?”
“Of course it’s wrong!”
“What?”
Einar was speechless at the answer that was beyond shameless—it was incomprehensible. But Gunstein continued to press him with an utterly confident expression.
“Who was it that decided what is right and wrong in the first place? Our ancestors! Not us, who live in this era!”
“Are you saying our ancestors were wrong?”
“No! I’m saying there is no right or wrong for things the ancestors never experienced! You can only know if something is right or wrong after you’ve experienced it!”
“What on earth does that...”
“Are you that afraid of facing a new order by following my Lord?”
“...!”
Einar felt as if he had been struck in the head with a hammer. Gunstein had accurately pinpointed the worry in a corner of his heart that even he hadn't realized. Seeing Einar like that, Gunstein clicked his tongue.
“You must be worried. Because you’ve lived as a magnificent warrior until now. Since you’ve lived more honorably than anyone under the order of the snowfields, aren't you afraid of stepping out into a new world?”
“...”
“That’s why you keep kicking away the opportunity even when it’s right there. You’d rather die as a splendid warrior of the snowfields than have the honor you’ve built up crumble in an unknown world.”
No.
That short denial felt stuck in his throat and wouldn't come out. Rather, as time passed, Gunstein’s voice pierced his heart like a thorn.
‘Is that truly so?’
Since he couldn't stop his family, he had intended to die with them, bearing their sins. Even after surviving, he thought he couldn't enter the King’s service because he had no shame.
But was that truly his honest heart? Was it all just a plausible cover for his desire to die as an 'honorable warrior,' just as Gunstein said?
“I can’t live like that. To hell with being an honorable warrior; I’m going to carve the name Gunstein into people’s minds. If I serve my Lord, there will be no shortage of opportunities for that.”
With those words, Gunstein stood up abruptly and left the room. As if to say he would move forward while Einar rotted away here.
Even after Gunstein left, Einar remained frozen for a long time. Lucian waited quietly until Einar opened his mouth. After ten or so minutes had passed, a heavy voice flowed from Einar’s lips.
“I will ask only one thing.”
“Speak.”
“If I refuse your offer and am buried in this land... will my name remain in your story?”
“Do you think it will?”
Lucian answered immediately with a firm voice.
“What do you think this place is? A holy land for those chosen by the Dragon? A great land that I must possess? It’s neither. This place is merely a waypoint I pass through on my path.”
“...”
“As long as my name remains in history, what I did in this land will also remain. But your name will not be written. Only a single line about your deeds will be recorded, and that will be the end of it.”
As the son of a chieftain who died resisting Lucian, following his father.
At those words, Einar closed his eyes. He had wanted to live honorably all his life and be an example to others. But the tribespeople would now follow the new King out of the snowfields. Einar, bound by the laws of the snowfields, would also be forgotten along with the land left behind.
What meaning would there be in keeping a name a little cleaner if it was to be forgotten like that?
“The decision is yours.”
Lucian’s voice reached the ears of the contemplating Einar once more.
“If you hate the dishonor of serving the King who killed your father and brother, then die here. But if you still want to live and leave your story behind, then follow me.”
“...If I follow you, can I leave my story even beyond the snowfields?”
At Einar’s trembling voice, Lucian gave a wide grin.
“I will make you an immortal legend that will never be forgotten.”