Chapter 159
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 159
Harald prepared wine and glasses and waited in the parlor.
A moment later, someone wearing a deep hood quietly entered the room. The visitor soon revealed his face and bowed slightly toward Harald.
“It has been a long time. Do you remember me?”
“What a silly question. It feels like your coming-of-age ceremony was just yesterday, yet here you are, a proper family head, Viscount Lesta.”
“I am glad to see you are still in good health, Viscount Harald.”
Since they had already met through Thorkel, the two spoke with easy familiarity. However, the warm atmosphere was short-lived. As soon as the brief greetings were over, Harald’s expression turned solemn.
“But what brings you here at such a late hour? As the master of a house, you could have visited as a guest in broad daylight.”
“I wished to do so, but the matter is of such a nature that I could not visit openly.”
“Is it so grave that it must be kept secret even from His Grace the Duke?”
“To be precise, it is a matter that we needn't bother him with, as it would only irritate him.”
Lesta gave a bitter smile, took a seat, and raised his glass.
“I would like to quench my thirst before we begin.”
“Very well. The wine was set out for my guest, after all.”
The two raised their glasses and downed the liquor simultaneously. Lesta marveled at the sharp aroma and the burning sensation as it slid down his throat.
“This is excellent wine.”
“A treasure I’ve been saving. Has it loosened your throat?”
“Quite well.”
Lesta set his glass down with a sharp clack and wiped the smile from his face. The story he was about to tell was not a pleasant one, even for him.
“The behavior of some of the lords has been strange lately.”
“Strange? What do you mean by that?”
“Quite a few are expressing concern over His Grace the Duke’s recent actions. To be more specific, they fear falling under his direct rule.”
The North was one of the regions least affected by the Silence of the Imperial Family. If anything, they were the ones who welcomed the Imperial Family’s paralysis. The only institution that could officially interfere with the lords had been neutralized. They likely thought they could live in peace in the North until the chaos of these troubled times subsided.
However, when Lucian declared his ambition to rescue the First Prince, anxiety began to spread.
“As you know, Viscount Harald, troubled times inevitably turn lords into warlords. And to increase their power, these warlords begin to prey on those around them.”
“Are you saying they fear His Grace will start a war with other families to grow his strength?”
“There is the option of subjugating them rather than destroying them, but that isn't a pleasant prospect for them either. It means going from being an independent power to essentially becoming a retainer under direct control.”
“This is quite sudden. His Grace hasn't even begun any military operations yet, has he?”
“That is true, but their predictions aren't entirely wrong. Since His Grace has declared his intent to rescue the First Prince, expanding his power for war is an unavoidable path.”
From now on, it was practically inevitable that warlord-like lords would swallow up weaker factions to grow their strength. If one sat idly by without expanding, they would eventually be consumed by a lord who had grown massive. Even for those without ambition, these were times where one had to absorb surrounding forces just to survive.
“Even the lords who once supported His Grace are changing their tune now that the Imperial Family is silent. They’re saying they might not need His Grace’s help anymore.”
“To my ears, it sounds like they want a royal family to speak up against the Empire for them, but they don't want a royal family that actually interferes with them.”
“They think that if they just stay tucked away quietly in the North, an Emperor will eventually be decided and peace will return. It’s pathetic.”
Lesta clicked his tongue in contempt. If things were that easy, would these times be called an era of chaos? No matter who it was, someone aiming for the throne wouldn't stop at just capturing the capital. The North was a land famous for being beyond the reach of influence even when the Imperial Family was at its peak. In other words, it was an eyesore to any ambitious person seeking to rule the entire Empire. Whether to stabilize the Empire or to fulfill their own ambition, they would surely move to pacify the North.
“I understand that seditious talk is circulating among the other lords. So, what is it you want to do? Are you asking me to request His Grace to reassure them?”
“No. Quite the opposite. I want to gather people like us and push for the revival of the Northern Kingdom. Not just in name, but an official revival.”
“…!?”
Harald’s eyes widened at the completely unexpected suggestion. Officially reviving the Northern Kingdom meant turning the Northern lords into subjects of the royal family. He was talking about stoking the fire even more, right after saying the lords were feeling anxious.
“What are you plotting?”
“It’s not a plot. What do you think will happen if the current atmosphere in the North reaches His Grace’s ears?”
“Well…”
Harald recalled Lucian’s actions thus far. At the same time, he gauged the military might of Asagrim. No matter how much he thought about it, it didn't seem like Lucian would be troubled just because a few lords were squirming. It might be different if the entire North turned against him, but fervent supporters like Harald and Lesta still existed. With just a little effort, Lucian could easily suppress the rebellious lords and bring them all to their knees.
“…It wouldn't be much of a problem. In fact, I suspect he might use this as an excuse to completely pacify the North.”
“That is the problem.”
“What do you mean?”
“If the North is completely pacified, our utility disappears. Specifically, Thorkel and I have been tasked with cleaning up the areas His Grace’s hands and eyes cannot reach. That entire job would vanish.”
Harald wanted to call that an exaggeration, but he couldn't. No matter how close one was to Lucian, there were limits as long as they were family heads who had to look after their own houses. Once Lucian’s power reached every corner of the North, he would surely send his own retainers to handle matters rather than entrusting them to outsiders.
“It would be fine if we had earned enough trust under His Grace, but it is too early for that. I still need opportunities to distinguish myself.”
“So you’re saying you’ll take the lead in pushing for the revival of the Northern Kingdom? As a warning to the seditious elements not to even dream of defying His Grace, and to shift public opinion?”
“If it conflicts with His Grace’s plans, we don't actually have to revive it. What matters is proving our ability—showing that we can suppress minor troubles so he doesn't have to waste his attention on them.”
Harald was tempted by the proposal. It was a bit calculating, but the idea was to handle the dissenters themselves so Lucian wouldn't have to worry about the North.
I’m pathetic too. I must have been relying on His Grace instead of supporting him because I trusted him too much.
It wasn't bad for Lucian to pacify the North, but their job should be to manage it so that he didn't need to pacify it in the first place. Having made up his mind, Harald nodded.
“Very well. Specifically, what would you like me to do?”
“First…”
Lesta smiled at Harald and began to explain his plan. That day, the two talked until dawn.
“Things are grim.”
Malcolm, who was heading toward Asagrim, frowned as he looked down at his feet. He had tripped over the corpses of a family, which had been haphazardly covered with dirt. Malcolm’s son recoiled in horror at the sight of the blood-soaked bodies.
“D-did they run into bandits?”
“Likely. Even their clothes were stripped.”
“But we’re not even that far from the Lord’s territory…”
“It seems the guards have stopped their patrols.”
“What? Why?”
“Who knows.”
Malcolm trailed off at his son’s question. In truth, he had a rough idea of the answer. With everyone spending massive amounts of money to prepare for war, they were likely cutting costs wherever they could, including public security. However, once words were spoken aloud, there was no telling whose ears they might reach. He had to be especially careful with words that could be taken as an insult to the Lord, especially when they were so close to his land.
“Let’s go.”
“Will we be okay? Maybe we should hire a mercenary…”
“We have no money. And with security this bad, the rates will be sky-high.”
“Ugh.”
Malcolm’s son groaned at the mention of money. Their travel expenses were already being depleted rapidly due to prices being much higher than expected. If the cost of hiring mercenaries had also risen, even tomorrow’s food would be at risk.
“I guess we have no choice. Give me one of the hammers we brought.”
“Are you going to use it as a weapon?”
“It’s better than nothing.”
“Actually, you’d be better off with nothing.”
Malcolm and his son froze at the voice coming from behind them. When they turned their heads, they saw bandits with menacing expressions snickering at them. It seemed they had been hiding in a hole dug near the highway, waiting for travelers.
“A bumper crop today. To think prey would come one after another in less than an hour.”
“…We have no money. You won't get anything from us, so just let us go.”
“That’s fine. If you don't have any, we’ll just have to be satisfied with what you do have. They say you shouldn't look down on even a single copper coin, right?”
Malcolm frowned as he saw the bandits’ eyes glinting with bloodlust. From the look of them, these weren't people who became bandits out of desperation; they were the vicious sort who had developed a taste for human blood. They were the kind of men who would kill even a penniless beggar just for sport.
“F-father.”
“Pick up the hammer.”
“I told you, you’re better off without it. If you resist, the blade just ends up going in the wrong places. You look like an old man who doesn't have much longer to live anyway, so why make this difficult?”
The bandits approached the father and son with greasy smiles. Their movements were like predators cornering prey they had already caught, just for the fun of it. It was just as Malcolm and his son gritted their teeth and gripped their hammer and tongs—
“Don't worry. You lot will be going easily.”
Slash!
Along with a cold voice, a flash of a blade flickered. Simultaneously, the head of the bandit on the far right flew into the air. The other bandits blinked blankly at the sudden death of their comrade.
“Wh—what?”
Slash!
Even while they failed to grasp the situation, the dazzling sword light did not stop. Every time the light flashed, a bandit lost his head and collapsed. By the time the bandits snapped out of it, most of the gang was dead, and only three remained.
“What the—!”
Slice!
Just before the last remaining bandits could scream, all three of their heads flew into the air at once. Seeing the bandits slaughtered in an instant without even being able to let out a death rattle, Malcolm and his son froze in place. A moment later, the same voice from before reached their ears.
“Are you hurt?”
“…!?”
Startled, the pair turned their heads. Standing there was a swordsman in shabby clothing. At a glance, one might mistake him for a wandering mercenary, but Malcolm could tell immediately what kind of being the man before him was.
A knight.
And he certainly wasn't some pampered young master from a wealthy family; he was a true knight who had crossed countless lines between life and death. A scent of blood this thick couldn't be given off unless one had cut down a staggering number of people.
Seeing Malcolm’s intense tension, Vincent—the knight who had once been a member of the Black Lions—burst into a small laugh.