Chapter 184
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 184
“A threat? What could he possibly gain from such a thing?”
Marquis Bernhardt frowned at his aide’s hypothesis.
Threatening one or two minor lords with weak forces was a fairly effective tactic. It forced them to tuck their tails and surrender, allowing one to avoid unnecessary combat.
However, going around making threats in the West—someone else’s home turf—would only turn him into a public enemy. Even the weak would band together to resist if they were provoked with excessive hostility.
“To him, the West is already no different from the heart of enemy territory. Why would he go out of his way to earn the resentment of the Western lords?”
“That is… I suspect he might be trying to exploit Your Excellency’s proposal.”
“Exploit my proposal?”
“Since he was invited in the name of the House of Roglan, the Duke is Your Excellency’s guest. For other lords to attack the Duke would be no different from showing hostility toward you.”
Since ancient times, a host was expected to take full responsibility for a guest’s safety. If a guest was harmed or threatened, it was seen as a sign of the host’s incompetence. In other words, unless one was prepared to go to war with the host, they were not to touch the guest.
“Since no faction in the West dares to oppose Your Excellency, the Duke’s safety is essentially guaranteed.”
“What does that matter? If he arrives with five thousand troops, no one would dare touch him anyway, whether I guarantee his safety or not.”
“That is true. However, with such a justification in place, wouldn’t the other lords have an excuse to save face even if the Duke leads his troops through their lands?”
If they pressured Lucian recklessly, they risked turning Marquis Bernhardt into an enemy. For lords who didn't want to look like cowards, wasn't that the perfect excuse to look the other way? They would undoubtedly defend themselves by claiming they only endured the insult out of respect for the Marquis, despite having neither the strength nor the will to resist.
“Conversely, it means they have no responsibility to stop the Duke. Only Your Excellency has the power to do so. But if the Duke is allowed to run wild across the West as he pleases…”
“I’ll look like an incompetent fool who can’t even protect his own backyard. Meanwhile, he’ll be perceived as having the strength and influence to do whatever he wants in the West.”
The Marquis finished the thought, grinding his teeth. He finally understood Lucian’s scheme.
“He intends to look down on me from above.”
When one became a major power, prestige was just as important as actual strength. If one’s prestige was damaged and they failed to retaliate properly, external forces would inevitably perceive them as ‘weaker than expected.’ Factions that were ready to submit would find their will to resist rekindled, and talented individuals who might have joined would turn their eyes toward other powers.
That prestige was exactly what Lucian was targeting now. He wanted to prove his superiority by showing the world that Marquis Bernhardt was beneath him.
“Still as sly as an old fox. Damn him.”
“But there is nothing we can do. The Duke will push forward regardless of what we say. To end this amicably, we must play along with his intentions, even if it means suffering a slight loss.”
“…No, there is a way.”
“Surely you aren’t thinking of starting a war?”
The aides cried out in shock at the Marquis’s murmur. As mentioned before, five thousand troops was an awkward number for a war of conquest. The risk of being defeated in detail increased as one had to leave behind garrison forces with every victory. Therefore, if the Marquis chose to defend, he could fight from a position of overwhelming advantage against five thousand men.
However, the story changed if they were the ones to strike first and engage in a field battle.
“It is dangerous. Since the opponent has a large army, they will exert immense power in a field battle. If we are careless, we, the attackers, could be the ones to suffer defeat.”
“Furthermore, if we lose even once in battle, there will be no way to recover our fallen reputation. Please, reconsider.”
The panicked aides hurried to dissuade Marquis Bernhardt. The Duke wasn't a fool; he wouldn't force a war of conquest. He would likely be satisfied with a single victory and return to the North. The problem was that if they lost in an actual battle rather than a political struggle, a true hierarchy would be established. Unlike politics, where losses could be minimized through justifications, the results of a battle could not be hidden.
Marquis Bernhardt scoffed at the pleas coming from all sides.
“Stop talking nonsense. When did I say I would fight a force of five thousand head-on?”
“Pardon?”
“There’s no need to even fight him. I’ll make sure he tires himself out and crawls back to the North on his own.”
Marquis Bernhardt grinned, baring his teeth. So, you’re entering the West with five thousand troops because you were invited by the Marquis?
‘Fine, then. Just try and come. If you can, that is.’
The maintenance costs for a grand army of five thousand would be astronomical. If they were tied down in one place, just how long could they possibly hold out?
After sending word to the House of Roglan, Lucian headed for the West as soon as his preparations were complete.
Five thousand soldiers, three hundred knights, an Archmage, and the Sword Saint of the era. Since the start of the troubled times, it was the largest force ever assembled by a single faction.
Naturally, there was no way for such a massive army to avoid passing through other territories. While a small elite force might slip through, the paths a grand army could take were limited. It was a situation that could easily earn the resentment of other families, but Lucian advanced without hesitation.
“If I worry about the circumstances of every person who might be friend or foe, I’ll never get anything done. If I have to prioritize someone’s circumstances, mine come first.”
“But aren’t you making too many enemies? There are dozens of territories belonging to other families that we must pass through.”
“We aren’t attacking them; we’re just passing through their land. What enemies? If someone decides to be my lifelong enemy over something like this, they’re a moron not even worth worrying about.”
In peaceful times, bringing an army into someone else’s territory was an undeniable act of hostility. It was a blatant insult to the lord of the land, so it wouldn't be strange for them to hold a grudge until death.
But in these troubled times, this didn't even count as a provocation. This was a world where the fate of a family could hang in the balance with a single attack from another power. Everyone needed to reduce their number of enemies and find allies for emergencies, yet someone would try to fight Lucian just because his army passed through? Such a person was surely a fool who wouldn't last a year before their house was destroyed.
“And it’s not like I’m just ignoring them. I gave them notice that we’re passing through, and I gave them the excuse that I have no choice because of the Marquis’s invitation. That’s more than enough.”
“Is it… really enough?”
“If they have a problem with it, they can come out and tell me to my face. If they have the courage, that is.”
Laughter broke out here and there at Lucian’s words. What madman would stand before the Conqueror of the North and his five thousand troops to voice a complaint? Unless they wanted their territory trampled by a frenzied army, they would stay quiet and bow their heads.
Amidst the jovial atmosphere, only Ernst the herald ground his teeth in silence.
‘Damn it. I knew he was hot-blooded, but this is far beyond my expectations. He has no hesitation when it comes to taking action. Has he become blinded because he holds too much power for his age?’
Ernst deliberately dismissed Lucian’s actions as recklessness—the short-sighted behavior of a brat drunk on power who couldn't read the future.
However, a corner of Ernst’s rational mind whispered otherwise. The path Lucian was taking now was actually the optimal choice for these chaotic times.
‘…Leading a grand army across their territories is insulting, but conversely, it’s a wake-up call that drags those lords out of their dreams and into reality. The thought that five thousand troops could attack their lands at any moment will snap them all to their senses.’
And above all, they would feel fear toward Lucian, who could commit such a bold act without a second thought. Some might become his enemies, but others would lose their will to fight, overwhelmed by a sense of defeat. Since every lord was a potential enemy in these times, it was a gain if the latter group increased even slightly.
‘Furthermore, he keeps shifting the blame for his actions onto Marquis Bernhardt. Normally, such an excuse wouldn't hold water, but humans tend to deceive themselves to avoid facing their own shame.’
If he simply flaunted his strength, they would feel an inevitable resistance even if they wanted to surrender. Setting aside the fact that he was an unbeatable opponent, the shame of being insulted would remain. However, Lucian was offering a message—however empty—that he had no choice because of the Marquis’s invitation and asked for their understanding. He had provided them with a target to blame for everything.
It was a guess, but this small consideration likely tripled the number of lords who would submit to Lucian.
‘Damn it, what am I supposed to do?’
Ernst clutched his head, frustrated by the situation where his master’s enemy was gaining ground and he couldn't stop it. He knew there was no other way, but it was maddening.
Because of this, Ernst failed to notice. He didn't see Sword Saint Felicia glaring at him from behind with cold eyes. He didn't realize that her anger wasn't directed at him personally, but was burning toward everything belonging to the House of Roglan.
“Herald Ernst. How much further until we reach the House of Lerum?”
“…We are almost there. We will arrive shortly.”
At Lucian’s prompting, Ernst spoke with a forced smile. Naturally, it was difficult for an army to set up camp every single time on the way to the House of Roglan. Given the distance, they occasionally needed to rest in a proper territory.
Marquis Bernhardt seemed to have kept that in mind, as he had requested cooperation from several families with territories along the route.
—When the lords from the North arrive with their escorts, please provide them with food and lodging. I will reimburse all costs incurred later.
—Understood.
The heads of each family had readily accepted the Marquis’s request. It was thanks to the trust built between the families over many years before the troubled times began.
But who could have known that those ‘escorts’ would turn out to be a grand army of five thousand? It would be one thing if they were merely shocked by the astronomical expenses. In the worst-case scenario, they would think the Marquis had deceived them and harbor a grudge.
‘Please, let it end with them just being surprised. Please…!’
Ernst kept praying inwardly that such a thing wouldn't happen. If his mistake caused a rift with a family they had trusted for years, his life being forfeit wouldn't be the end of it.
Eventually, as Lucian entered the West and stepped into the territory of the House of Lerum…
“Ho, impressive. Have they already finished their preparations?”
“…!?”
An exclamation of admiration escaped Lucian, while a silent gasp of shock erupted from Ernst.
Contrary to expectations, the House of Lerum was fully prepared to receive the grand army. Outside the castle walls, neat rows of tents were already set up, and food was being cooked to distribute to the soldiers. Even the Viscount himself had come out beyond the castle gates to personally greet Lucian.
While Ernst stood speechless at the unexpected sight, the head of the House of Lerum stepped forward and shouted.
“Oleg Lerum greets the Conqueror of the North! You must be weary from your long journey, so please, rest well in my territory and recover from your fatigue!”