Chapter 43
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 43
The day after his war of nerves with the Marquis.
Lucian, having donned his mask once more to head outside, clicked his tongue.
The few nobles who had remained were now almost entirely gone, and those who did stay were busy fleeing the moment they caught sight of him.
“Tsk. It seems the rumors spread far and wide in just a single day.”
“Do you think that fellow Nigel, who accompanied us yesterday, spread them?”
“Who knows.”
It wasn't impossible, but Lucian doubted it.
In his past life, Nigel had been famous as a master of the political tightrope. Would such a man intentionally do something to get on Lucian’s bad side? Especially after Lucian had seen him trying so hard to keep his own identity hidden during their walk.
“It’s more likely the Marquis’s fault. He was so busy subtly revealing his identity to ensure he was treated with proper respect. Anyone who saw me arguing with the Marquis from a distance would have easily guessed who I am.”
“That’s true. Regardless, it seems we won't be hearing the honest thoughts of the lords anymore.”
“It can’t be helped. We gained something else instead, so we’ll have to be satisfied with that.”
“Gained something else?”
“There’s no one left to provide entertainment. Do you think His Highness the First Prince will want to continue this party when there’s no one here?”
“Ah.”
Raymond nodded as if he understood.
This masquerade was a diversion arranged by the First Prince to watch the nobles clash with one another. But even with a stage set, if there were no nobles left to clash, the entertainment—or whatever you wanted to call it—couldn't happen.
The host would lose interest, and the reason to continue the farce would vanish.
‘Since there’s nothing left to enjoy, the First Prince will likely show himself soon. It’s a relief that I won’t have to keep playing along with his games.’
If this pathetic entertainment had dragged on, the dissatisfaction of the other family heads would have continued to mount. Setting aside Lucian’s personal goals, this was better for the morale of the Allied Forces.
Sure enough, the very next day, a messenger from the First Prince arrived at Lucian’s tent.
“His Highness the First Prince, the Commander-in-Chief, has issued a summons.”
“I will be there shortly.”
Couldn't even hold out for two days, could he?
Lucian gave a bitter smile but immediately finished his preparations and headed toward the First Prince’s tent.
The tent, several times larger than any other, was already filled with a significant number of lords and their proxies.
As Lucian scanned the room, his eyes met those of the Marquis, who was seated in the most prominent position.
“....”
“....”
A sharp exchange of glares passed between them for a moment.
Simultaneously, the surrounding lords all swallowed hard.
But it was brief.
The Marquis was the first to avert his gaze, and Lucian turned his head at the same time.
A moment later, as Lucian took his seat to the right of the Commander-in-Chief’s chair, the room began to buzz.
“Is that boy really the Grand Duke’s proxy?”
“No, at such a young age, how could he...?”
“Shh. Quiet. He’ll hear you.”
The brief commotion settled quickly, but the weight of the gazes pouring in from all sides remained.
Marquis Bernhardt, in particular, was scowling as if he found the situation distasteful. To the shrewd veteran head of a Great Family, being placed on equal footing with a mere sixteen-year-old Third Young Master—even if he was a proxy—was an insult.
Fortunately, the uncomfortable silence didn't last long.
“His Highness the First Prince, the Commander-in-Chief, is entering!”
At the attendant’s cry, the entrance to the tent opened, and a young noble with platinum-blonde hair and green eyes appeared.
His appearance alone was enough to make one believe he was a hero out of legend. However, his pouting expression and the irritation in his eyes shaved off half of that brilliant beauty.
‘The First Prince, Claude Fin Bay Astria.’
The eldest son favored by the current Emperor and the Commander-in-Chief of these Allied Forces.
However, Lucian’s gaze moved past Claude to the person behind him.
A man taller than the First Prince, who kept his back slightly bowed as if trying to hide his presence.
He possessed the same platinum-blonde hair, but his cold aura and blue eyes gave him a far more sovereign air.
‘Cedric Fin Bay Astria.’
The Second Prince of the Empire, the one once called the last hope of the Imperial Family.
“We greet His Highness the First Prince, the Commander-in-Chief of the Allied Forces!”
“Mm.”
Upon the First Prince’s entrance, the lords bowed their heads and let out a thunderous greeting.
However, even at their salute, the First Prince merely gave a half-hearted nod with a bored expression.
“Sit.”
“Yes, Your Highness!”
As the First Prince took his place at the head of the table and spoke, the lords sat back down.
Leaning back leisurely in the Commander-in-Chief’s chair, the First Prince scanned the room.
“First, I thank you all for gathering here. The Empire will not forget your loyalty.”
“As those who have sworn fealty to the Empire, it is only natural.”
“By the way, I prepared a bit of entertainment for the occasion, but it seems things didn't go as planned. To think everyone would vanish in less than two days. I apologize if my goodwill caused any discomfort.”
Even as he said this, the First Prince’s narrowed eyes swept over Marquis Bernhardt and Lucian.
He was merely pretending to apologize while clearly expressing his resentment toward the two people who had ruined his stage.
Marquis Bernhardt quickly bowed his head toward the First Prince.
“I am deeply sorry. I was careless and allowed my identity to be known; it is entirely my fault.”
Careless, my foot. You didn't have the slightest intention of hiding it in the first place.
Lucian almost scoffed at the Marquis’s political maneuvering, but it would look bad if he were the only one to stay silent.
“How could all the blame lie with the Marquis? I, too, cannot escape responsibility and beg Your Highness’s forgiveness.”
“Hoo-mmm, is that so?”
The First Prince looked back and forth between the bowing Marquis and Lucian before waving his hand dismissively.
He wasn't entirely over his bad mood, but his attitude suggested he would grant a special pardon this once.
“Well, humans are prone to mistakes. It was only a light diversion anyway, so let us move past it.”
“We thank Your Highness for your mercy.”
“That aside, I wish to hear your opinions regarding this rebellion. What should be done about Krepelt?”
Satisfied with the apologies, the First Prince immediately got down to business. It was a broad question covering everything from the method of suppression to the future treatment of Krepelt.
Marquis Bernhardt was the first to step forward.
“End it as quickly as possible with a quick decisive battle, and then show them mercy.”
“Show them mercy? You’re suggesting we forgive those who dared to raise a hand against the Empire?”
The First Prince frowned, clearly displeased with the Marquis’s answer.
However, the Marquis didn't blink an eye as he nodded and continued.
“That is correct. Once the rebellion is suppressed, Krepelt will surely claim it wasn't their intention and offer up a scapegoat for the treason. We should end it by executing that scapegoat and then withdraw.”
“What on earth is the reason? Why should we forgive those rebel bastards!”
“Because the Empire’s generosity itself demonstrates the power the Empire possesses.”
At this seemingly nonsensical statement, the First Prince tapped the table, signaling for an explanation.
The Marquis laid out his reasoning fluently, as if he had prepared it in advance.
“Recently, the Empire has been plagued by various foreign invasions and internal troubles. However, it has not grown so weak that the likes of Krepelt could succeed in a rebellion. They surely know this as well.”
“But didn't a rebellion actually happen? Are you saying Krepelt revolted knowing they would fail?”
“They likely used this rebellion as a sort of testing ground. A test for the ‘real rebellion’ they intend to launch someday.”
Whether the Empire still had the power to suppress a revolt, how long it would take if they did, and how much weaker it had become compared to its prime. Once they gauged their opponent, a target would naturally emerge. Krepelt’s true objective lay there.
“Of course, since a rebellion is not something that can be easily overlooked, their excuses will be airtight. They will surely claim the King was imprisoned and another royal family member wielded absolute power, or something of that sort.”
“So you’re saying we should just fall for that perfect excuse?”
“Even if the excuse is transparent, we must accept it. That in itself shows the confidence that we can suppress them again whenever they might rise up.”
The Marquis calmly explained again to the First Prince, who still looked like he didn't understand.
If the rebellion was suppressed swiftly, the Empire’s strength would certainly be proven. However, if excessive punishment followed immediately, it might leave room for others to think, ‘The Empire is worried it can't handle another rebellion, so it’s trying to pull it out by the roots while it can.’
The measures intended to prevent rebellion could instead become a reason to threaten the Empire.
“Conversely, if we accept a blatant excuse, it looks like we have the confidence to suppress the likes of Krepelt whenever we wish. Would the rebels dare to defy us again after witnessing the Empire’s mercy?”
“Hmm, that makes sense.”
Before long, the First Prince’s eyes were sparkling as he listened intently.
Demonstrating the Empire’s strength and mercy simultaneously while flaunting the leisure of knowing the enemy is insignificant. Was this not a strategy perfectly suited to his tastes?
Just as the First Prince, swayed by the Marquis’s eloquence, was about to adopt the proposed policy—
“That is an excessively optimistic outlook. I suspect the Marquis is viewing the situation far too naively.”
Lucian’s cold voice instantly extinguished the heated atmosphere.
The air inside the tent froze solid.
No matter if Lucian was the proxy for Grand Duke Sigmund, he was still just one of the sons, not even the heir. In terms of status or experience, he was incomparable to Marquis Bernhardt.
And yet, he was openly voicing a dissenting opinion? It was practically an insult, implying that the veteran Marquis had less foresight than the young Lucian.
“An excessively optimistic outlook, you say. It sounds to me like you’re saying I’m failing to see reality and only speaking pleasantries.”
The Marquis spoke, his eyes turning ice-cold as he stared at Lucian.
It might have been different yesterday when they were masked, but now that their identities were revealed, there was no reason to use honorifics to elevate the other.
“I apologize if it sounded that way. However, I cannot help but worry about the worst-case scenario.”
“The worst-case scenario?”
“Suppress the enemy with a quick decisive battle and show generosity to display magnanimity and confidence. It would be perfect if everything went according to plan. But where is the guarantee that such a thing is possible?”
“Are you insulting everyone gathered here right now? Are you saying His Majesty’s loyal subjects will be defeated by the army of a mere vassal state?”
“I am not talking about spirit or morale. Please provide me with realistic evidence.”
At Lucian’s words, the Marquis’s face contorted. To think a brat with almost no real combat experience dared to paint him as a dreamer who couldn't see reality.
“Fine! You want realistic evidence? I’ll give you as much as you want!”
The Marquis held up three fingers and folded them one by one as he spoke.
“First, we have a clear numerical advantage. Krepelt may be the largest vassal state in the East, but they are nothing compared to us, gathered from across the entire Empire. Second, we have the advantage in quality. Everyone here is part of a standing army, and we have numerous knights among us. And third, the enemy has almost no geographical advantage. The Empire mapped out every inch of Krepelt in detail long ago! Do you need more reasons?”
The Marquis looked down at Lucian as if he could go on forever if desired.
But Lucian shook his head and spoke to the Marquis.
“Everything you said is correct. However, it seems the Marquis is discussing victory in this war based on one underlying assumption.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The Grand Accord.”
The unwritten rule of war that had been observed for centuries—the final bulwark against the worst-case scenario.
“What will you do if the enemy has no intention of following the Grand Accord?”