Chapter 77
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 77
‘Good.’
Lucian suppressed the urge to let his lips curl into a smile.
Naturally, he had no intention of abandoning Valdek to settle down in the North, but that was only a consideration if he were forced to choose one over the other.
If he could have both, he would gladly take them.
‘Of course, the Emperor wouldn't tolerate it. If I claimed Valdek and then set my sights on the Northern throne, he would lose his mind.’
It was true that the Emperor favored Lucian, but that favor was contingent on him remaining a loyal ‘subject.’
The moment he grew into a power that could threaten the Imperial Family, that favor would vanish, and he would be branded a potential traitor in an instant.
Thus, for now, it was enough to simply plant a small seed.
‘So that when the age of chaos arrives, I can assert my rightful claim—planting my people now so they will willingly join my banner later.’
Having finished his thoughts, Lucian chuckled and waved his hand dismissively.
“My, you are being far too serious. I only asked out of curiosity. As one who has received the Emperor’s grace, how could I ever dream of acting against the Empire?”
“....”
Despite Lucian’s evasive words, Harald’s eyes remained sharp and piercing.
His gaze seemed to interrogate Lucian, searching for the truth behind the statement.
Seeing that the man wouldn't back down until he received a proper answer, Lucian shrugged.
“Well, one never knows how things will turn out in this world. As you said, Viscount, the Empire is shaking. Not long ago, they set out to suppress the rebellion in Krepelt and returned empty-handed, losing a great deal of face.”
“What...!?”
“His Majesty is suppressing the unrest by revealing the hidden strength of the Imperial Family, but I do not know how long that will last. When a predator shows weakness, it is bound to be bitten from all sides. Things will only get harder from here.”
“Mmm.”
Harald lowered his eyes, his complexion turning slightly pale.
As expected, due to the North’s isolation and the Imperial Family’s secrecy, he hadn't been able to learn the full details of the situation.
Having dropped such heavy information as if it were nothing, Lucian added a few more words in passing.
“It would be a tragedy if the Imperial Family loses the power to control the arrogant lords running wild. If that truly happens, the North will have to find its own way to survive. For instance, by rallying around the old royal family and rising anew.”
“...!”
“There is no certainty. I can offer no guarantees. It is nothing more than a dream-like story that may or may not happen. Can you believe in that ‘someday’ and wait?”
Waiting wears a person down.
Even if one makes a life-altering decision, if time passes meaninglessly, the passion of that moment is bound to fade.
When Lucian asked if he could endure such a meaningless wait, Harald gave a thin smile.
“I’ve long since grown accustomed to fruitless waiting. My life doesn't have much time left anyway; I intend to wait until I close my eyes for good.”
It was a declaration that he had no intention of betraying Lucian for as long as he lived.
At that desired response, Lucian’s expression turned slightly more serious.
“What do you intend to do about your succession? Aside from that traitor, it seems your other children are not here.”
“I sent my second son to a friend. I heard he finished his Knighting Ceremony recently but hasn't sworn his Oath of Loyalty yet, so I must bring him back.”
“Will he follow me?”
“He takes after me, but he has a strong rebellious streak. He’s always going on about the ‘Great North’ and mentioning the days of the old kingdom. He often grumbled about the Empire’s interference becoming too much lately, too.”
“...Our temperaments differ, but we might actually get along surprisingly well.”
At the same time, Lucian understood why the ‘second son’ wasn't here.
If he had openly displayed such a rebellious nature, he would have been a prime target to be branded a traitor to the Empire.
Harald must have sent him away before Torik or other rivals could use it against him.
“I think so as well. But as I said, you never know with people. He might suit you better than I do, or perhaps you won't get along at all.”
Therefore, if possible, start the Great Cause while I am still alive.
Once it begins, he will follow without hesitation or calculation.
Lucian chuckled at the sight of Harald, who maintained a bold attitude while letting slip his lingering regrets.
“That is a frightening thing to say. You’ll have to stay healthy and live a long life, Viscount.”
“Or you could hurry things along a bit.”
“Well, either way, there’s no harm in looking after your health.”
Lucian took a vial containing Nectar from his robe and placed it on the table.
Harald blinked at the unfamiliar bluish glow emanating from it.
“What is this?”
“Medicine that is good for the body. Please, try it.”
“Good grief. If you’re giving it to me, I suppose I’ll take it.”
With a dubious expression, Harald opened the vial.
It was an abrupt bribe, but since it was clearly a gesture of goodwill, he decided to accept it for now.
Harald downed the Nectar in one gulp and sat back, looking at Lucian.
“I’ve taken the medicine. But no matter the effect, time is—”
Whoosh!
Harald couldn't finish his sentence and froze.
He felt a torrent of mana, like an erupting volcano, surging from his core and spreading through his entire body.
The unbelievable medicinal effect wrapped around his frame like a storm, yet there was no pain.
There was only a sense of overwhelming refreshment, as if his entire being was being washed clean.
“What in the... Haaaah!”
The startled Harald muttered instinctively but quickly shut his mouth as mana leaked out.
He felt as though if he spoke incorrectly, the erupting mana would come gushing out of him.
A moment later, only after confirming the mana had settled into his body, could Harald speak again.
“This... what on earth is this?”
“An elixir.”
“An elixir? Don't be ridiculous! This is far beyond such a thing, isn't it!?”
“Yes. It is an invention that will turn the world upside down. If you go around blabbing about this medicine, Viscount, I am finished.”
“...!”
Harald’s eyes shook violently.
As Lucian said, this was no mere gift.
It was a dangerous treasure that could potentially shift the balance of power across the entire continent.
By gifting such a treasure to Harald, Lucian had demonstrated his absolute trust.
‘I see.’
A deep smile finally spread across Harald’s lips, his mind at ease.
The fact that Lucian had revealed such a treasure was as good as a guarantee that he would eventually rise.
“I suppose I really must live a long life.”
Until the day he could see it with his own eyes.
Just as Lucian, having gained Harald’s complete trust, nodded with satisfaction—
“Viscount, My Lord. I have something to report.”
Raymond’s voice came from outside.
Just as Lucian was about to ask what was happening, Raymond got straight to the point.
“Hugo is currently fighting a knight from the House of Calix. I think you should come see for yourself.”
*
Swordsmanship styles are not the exclusive property of knights.
Sometimes through the mercy of a knight, and sometimes by eavesdropping on lessons, parts of them leak out to the public.
Any mercenary who has made a name for themselves is bound to have at least one decent sword technique.
However, no matter what techniques they possess, they are destined to lose against a properly trained knight.
There is a vast difference in the quality of learning between a commoner who learned haphazardly and a knight surrounded by high-level peers.
‘That’s certainly what I heard...!’
Clang!
‘Then how the hell is this guy parrying every single one of my strikes!’
Palmyr swallowed a scream and retreated.
As his sword was deflected, a searing pain shot through his grip.
Though hidden by his gauntlets, he was certain the palms of his hands were injured.
As he gingerly moved his aching hands, a taunt came from in front of him.
“Your attacks are getting weaker. Are you tired?”
“Shut your mouth!”
Palmyr gnashed his teeth and glared at Hugo, but he didn't dare charge.
If he continued the assault, his hands might be ruined entirely.
In the worst-case scenario, he might have to retire as a knight altogether.
‘But I can't back down now...!’
A properly trained knight admitting defeat to a mere Squad Leader? And in the North, of all places?
It wouldn't just be retirement; he would have to live the rest of his life in hiding, unable to show his face in public.
Palmyr was wavering, caught between a rock and a hard place, when—
“What a spectacle. A knight cowering and retreating from a Squad Leader.”
At the familiar voice, Palmyr snapped to attention.
He turned his head and, sure enough, Lucian was watching them.
Seizing the opportunity, Palmyr shouted with all his might.
“Lord Lucian! Where is the civility in this!”
“....”
“I came to see you, yet your soldier didn't even announce me and attacked me out of the blue! Is this your will, Lord Lucian? Is this the will of Valdek!?”
At Palmyr’s cry, the onlookers began to murmur.
Lucian looked around for a moment and then quietly crossed his arms.
Judging that Lucian was frozen in embarrassment, Palmyr’s lips curled up.
“Explain yourself! Is this your intent? Or the independent action of a mere soldier!?”
“.....”
“If it is your intent, you must take responsibility for this act! If it is the independent action of a soldier, then proper punishment must follow!”
Despite the triumphant shouting, Lucian didn't even bat an eyelid.
He remained silent, merely staring at Palmyr with an indifferent gaze.
Just as Palmyr was about to shout again during the prolonged silence—
“What are you doing? You should keep fighting.”
“...What?”
“Weren't you in the middle of a fight with my Squad Leader? It’s fine to shout, but I don't understand why you’ve stopped. Hugo!”
“Yes, My Lord!”
“If he gets distracted during a fight, you should just cut him down. Why are you letting him ramble on? Raise your sword!”
“...!?”
Horrified by those words, Palmyr quickly looked back at Hugo.
Hugo had already taken his stance and was slowly approaching.
He looked ready to cut Palmyr down if he didn't defend himself properly.
“L-Lord Lucian! What is the meaning of this!”
“Shut up and fight. I don't care who wins or loses, just talk after the matter is settled. I do not permit running away from a duel.”
“This isn't a duel! This is a one-sided... Gah!”
Claaaaang!
Palmyr barely blocked Hugo’s lunging attack and retreated.
The pain in his palms was excruciating, as if the wounds had worsened.
Just as Palmyr was about to open his mouth again while suppressing a scream—
“If you forfeit the duel, I will kill you.”
“...!”
“Tricks won't work here. Don't even dream of running away from the outcome. You will either walk away carrying your defeat, or you will be buried in the ground. Choose one.”
The cold declaration made Palmyr’s spine freeze.
He thought he had found a way out, but it was all an illusion.
His opponent had no intention of letting him go until he chose between a death of honor or a death of the flesh.
Belated regret swirled in Palmyr’s mind.
‘If only I had made a proper excuse and sheathed my sword... if only I had pretended an old illness flared up and collapsed...!’
Amidst the cascading regrets, Palmyr finally realized one thing.
The fact that there would have been no problem at all if he hadn't tried to assert dominance over Lucian in the first place.
Unfortunately, the realization came far too late.
Clang!
“Aaaagh!”
His sword, sent flying by the following attack, soared high into the sky.
At the same time, blood seeped from his gauntlets along with the sensation of the skin on his palms being torn away.
It wasn't that Hugo had exploited a blind spot or used some mysterious technique to disarm him.
It was proof that he had not only lost in a pure contest of strength but couldn't even withstand the shock of the weapons clashing.
“Ah....”
Clatter.
Palmyr didn't even think of picking up his fallen sword as he looked around.
Before he knew it, the onlookers were looking down at him with gazes full of contempt.
In a situation diametrically opposed to Lucian’s own duel, Palmyr fell to his knees with a face full of despair.