Chapter 73
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 73
“....”
Lucian was momentarily at a loss for words.
He had asked for a way to build his influence, only to be told to defeat the man himself.
“I... excuse me, but are you speaking in metaphors? Like, proving I am wiser, or...?”
“Wisdom, my ass. I mean a real fight. Fists or blades, take your pick.”
“I see.”
It seemed he hadn't misheard.
Harald was sincerely telling Lucian to strike him down.
As Lucian hesitated, unsure of where to even begin his questions, Harald poured himself another beer.
“It has been centuries since the North fell under the Empire’s rule. The value of tradition grows lighter with each passing year, and the desk-jockeying of those pale-faced weaklings is becoming the new fashion.”
“....”
“But no matter how much it has faded, tradition is still tradition. There are still many who hold to the old ways and respect a true warrior.”
“In other words, you want me to prove my strength? Not through authority or wisdom, but through pure martial power?”
“Now you’re speaking my language.”
Harald grinned, drained another glass, and wiped the foam from his lips.
Despite the sheer volume of alcohol he had consumed, his eyes remained sharp and piercing.
“Of course, strength alone won’t solve everything. Even if an outside invader targeting the North has power, we would view them as an enemy, not someone to be respected.”
“But I am not a complete outsider. I am the last blood relative of my maternal grandfather, who was once deeply respected in the North.”
“Exactly. Even if you weren't raised here, if the grandson of His Grace Klaus—a man who carries that blood—shows that he values Northern traditions, no one will be able to deny your rights. Of course...”
The smile vanished from Harald’s face, replaced by an expression of utmost gravity as he met Lucian’s gaze.
“If you can’t even manage that much, there’s no reason to respect you, even if you are Duke Klaus’s grandson. Northern affairs must be decided by Northern hands.”
“I see.”
Lucian nodded silently at the cold look in the man's eyes.
It wasn't the gaze of a man looking at a savior who had rescued him from a rebellion; it was the gaze of a man looking at a stranger from a foreign land.
Unless he passed this test, that gaze would never change.
And it likely wasn't just Harald; every lord in the North would feel the same.
“If I defeat Your Lordship, will I earn the recognition of the North? You seem to be quite the formidable warrior yourself.”
“Hahaha! I appreciate the flattery, but defeating one old man isn't enough to win over the entire North. I simply want to see if you possess the minimum qualifications.”
Because if you can't even beat an old man like me, you won't stand a chance against the House of Calix.
Lucian understood the unspoken words and nodded quietly.
“Then I shall gladly show you.”
“Hah, I like your spirit.”
Naturally, they didn't rush outside to fight the moment the duel was accepted.
This duel was a test, but it was also meant to broadcast Lucian’s martial prowess.
It couldn't be a rushed affair behind closed doors; it had to be properly prepared and held like an event.
Ideally, word of the duel would spread far and wide through those who witnessed it.
“And since the rebellion was only just suppressed, there’s more to clean up than I expected. It’ll be a headache if any surviving remnants try to stab us in the back, so I need to clear them out properly.”
“You’re right.”
Lucian also had no desire for the results of the duel to be overshadowed by some other accident.
More importantly, although Harald had used potions, his body wasn't fully recovered yet.
Lucian preferred to wait until the injuries healed rather than deal with rumors later claiming he only won because the Viscount wasn't at his best.
“Don't worry about me; please rest well. If you overexert yourself trying to match my schedule and something goes wrong during the duel, it would be an insult to me.”
“Good grief, you certainly don't lack confidence. Are you not even entertaining the possibility of your own defeat?”
“What use is there in imagining defeat? It’s better to think about what comes after winning than to imagine how I’ll have to slink back with my shoulders slumped in pity.”
“...That’s a fair point.”
Harald laughed, but his eyebrows twitched.
It seemed his competitive spirit had been piqued, perhaps feeling a bit underestimated as a warrior.
“Fine. As you say, I’ll take a week to rest and finish organizing the territory. We’ll have the duel after that.”
“Will a week be enough?”
“Actually, three days would be plenty, but the cleanup takes longer.”
“Then it can't be helped.”
“Hahaha.”
“Haha.”
A light battle of nerves played out between them, accompanied by dry laughter.
After their conversation—a mix of bluffing and sincerity—ended, Harald stood up.
“Sleep here for tonight. Once the cleaning is done tomorrow, I’ll formally invite you to the Lord’s Manor. I’ve already spoken to the owner, so he’ll provide whatever you need. As for the prisoners we caught earlier...”
“Take them with you. I leave their judgment to you.”
“Thank you.”
With a bitter smile, Harald walked down the inn’s stairs, his shoulders looking slightly heavy.
It seemed that even a warrior as iron-willed as he couldn't help but be drained by his son’s depravity.
*
Lucian immediately gathered his retainers on the second floor.
After informing everyone—excluding the ten-man squad of common soldiers—of the future plan, Raymond spoke up with a grim face.
“Proving one’s qualifications through martial force. It’s the standard way. There’s no more certain method to be recognized in the North.”
“For someone saying that, you don't look very happy.”
“It’s because I don't think this will end with just one fight.”
Raymond let out a deep sigh and continued.
“While I was waiting downstairs, I gathered some information from the locals. It seems the House of Calix is moving quite aggressively. I heard they’ve visited this place frequently as well.”
“If they’ve reached all the way here to the entrance of the North, we should assume they’ve touched almost every family.”
“Yes. And many families have likely been brought into their fold. If not, they wouldn't have dared to interfere in another family’s internal affairs and incite a rebellion.”
According to Harald, the three knights by Torik’s side were outsiders he had never seen before.
Since they had never sworn loyalty to the family head in the first place, they had turned their blades against him without worrying about dishonor.
To be able to lend three knights to another family’s rebellion meant their influence was formidable.
Even without interrogating Torik, it was easy to see that the House of Calix was behind it.
“If their influence were small, a few simple demonstrations would suffice. Any attempts to find fault would only draw the ire of those around them. But if their influence is large, the story changes.”
“Because they can use their power to push through absolute nonsense.”
“Exactly. To shut people like that up, you must achieve something so great that no one, no matter who they are, can find a flaw in it.”
“In other words, it means I’m going to have to suffer that much more.”
“Precisely. So, wouldn't it be better to return to the family at this point?”
“What are you saying, Sir Raymond?!”
Felicia’s eyes widened at Raymond’s sudden suggestion.
If they returned now, Lucian’s honor would clearly be tarnished—how could he dare suggest such a thing!
However, Raymond did not retract his argument.
“Proving one’s martial power is something that can be nitpicked endlessly if someone is determined to do so. Viscount Harald is favorable toward my Lord, so he simply wants to test you, but others might push my Lord toward the Snowy Mountains, telling him to go hunt a Giant or something equally absurd.”
“We can just ignore the nonsense of such shameless people!”
“Surprisingly, in the political arena of the Empire, the methods of such shameless people work quite well. Even Sir Felicia’s own father was infamously known for such tactics.”
“....”
Felicia lost her words and looked away.
Even she had to admit her father was exactly that kind of person.
It was just hard to believe there were many others like Marquis Bernhardt.
“When several powerful people gather, they can make even the hero of the age look like a fool. If we aren't careful, you might endure all sorts of hardships and return with nothing to show for it.”
“So, you’re saying we shouldn't waste time and should head back early?”
“If you give up now, there won't be any dishonor attached to my Lord.”
“I understand your feelings, but you’re being too hasty. Are you worried something might happen to the family while I’m away?”
“....”
Raymond flinched as Lucian hit the nail on the head.
It seemed Lucian wasn't the only one who had sensed something suspicious about Jordi.
Lucian chuckled and shook his head.
“I understand how you feel, but I have no intention of going back like this.”
“My Lord.”
“It’s not because I’m embarrassed to go back after talking so big. It’s because I see a clear path to victory.”
“A path to victory?”
“First of all...”
Thud, crash, bang!
Just before Lucian could answer, a loud noise echoed from outside.
It sounded like someone was rushing upstairs.
Just as everyone in the room reached for their weapons, just in case—
Knock, knock, knock!
“M-milord! You’re still awake, right?! Milord!”
The innkeeper pounded frantically on the door, calling for Lucian.
After confirming there were no other presences, Lucian shouted through the door.
“I’m still up. Why are you calling?”
“Ah, you were awake! You need to go to the Lord’s Manor right now!”
“What are you talking about so suddenly?”
“The Calix bastards just arrived! Our Lord says he wants you to come take a look at their faces with him!”
“...!”
*
The envoy from the House of Calix was modest.
There were no gifts, just one knight and ten soldiers.
They had maintained only the bare minimum of formality required for an envoy.
Depending on how one took it, it could be seen as an insult.
It wasn't intentional. Did they not know the rebellion would be suppressed?
The knight who came as the envoy was trying his best to control his expression, but he couldn't hide the leaking bewilderment.
It seemed they had intended to act haughty toward Torik, who was supposed to have become the Lord with their help, but their plans had gone awry.
Amidst the hostility pouring in from all sides, the knight stepped forward and bowed his head.
“Dane Huskarga greets His Lordship, Viscount Harald. I see you are as healthy as ever.”
“I’m sure you’re quite disappointed that I’m healthy. You probably intended to set my son up as a puppet and use him as you pleased.”
When Harald openly displayed his hostility, Dane’s eyebrows twitched slightly, but he soon tilted his head as if he had no idea what was being said.
“I do not know what you are talking about. I heard there was trouble in the territory, but the House of Calix has absolutely nothing to do with it.”
“Even though there were three knights under the House of Calix present?”
“How baffling. To think they would act so recklessly when my Lord never gave such an order. I shall have to punish them severely when they return.”
“Pathetic bastards.”
Sincere contempt flew toward Dane as he continued to play innocent.
“You lot were always like this. ‘Where is the evidence that I did it? If you want to prove it, bring the evidence.’ You cover the sky with your palms and then giggle amongst yourselves, claiming the sun has truly vanished.”
“I tell you once again...”
CRASH!
Before he could finish, an axe flew and embedded itself in the ground beside Dane.
Terrified by the flying dust and stone fragments, Dane scrambled back and shouted.
“What is the meaning of this?!”
“Do you want to die?”
“....”
“You seem to think you can stand on equal footing with me by riding the coattails of the master you serve, but I am in a foul mood right now. I am not broad-minded enough to listen to the jokes of an arrogant messenger.”
Dane fell silent at Harald’s chilling threat.
At the very least, he seemed to know that there was nothing to be gained by provoking a father whose eyes were bloodshot with rage over his son’s betrayal.
“Say what you have to say while I can still tolerate it, and then get out. However, if I find I can no longer endure it, I will take your head right here.”
“...Then I shall ask only one thing. Do you still have no intention of joining the House of Calix in restoring the glory of the North?”
“Hah.”
Harald scoffed and rested his chin on his hand.
“The glory of the North? How arrogant. Since when did Calix represent the entire North?”
“Your Lordship, Calix is the only one qualified to carry the name of Grimaldi. Who else but Calix can represent the North?”
Lucian, who had been quietly listening to their conversation, took a step forward and spoke.
“And what if I can?”