Chapter 81
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 81
It was a simple truth: a noble with a meager fief was often treated worse than one of a lower rank.
Unless the territory matched the title, the Emperor’s gift would be a mockery rather than a blessing.
At Lucian’s words, Glen gave a thin smile and pulled something from his robe.
“Of course. Please, take a look at this.”
He spread a sheet of paper across the table, revealing a detailed map of the North. It was of such high quality that it could have been used as a tactical map for an immediate campaign.
“It goes without saying, but the lands of the late Duke Klaus will be returned to Your Grace.”
“Well, I suppose so.”
Lucian gave a lukewarm response to the obvious statement.
The Grimaldi family was an old royal line that had lost all its power, retaining only its honor. Their current holdings amounted to little more than a small patch of land, barely equivalent to a rural barony.
‘The tax revenue is pathetic, too. My investigation showed it was so small that the cost of transporting the coins to Valdek was higher than the taxes themselves, so they just left it alone.’
It was barely enough to cover basic maintenance for their dignity. Since its symbolic value was also ambiguous, it didn't really matter whether he had that land or not. What mattered wasn't the original fief, but the new territory he was to receive.
“In addition, His Majesty has granted you the right to reclaim all territories forcibly occupied or illegally seized by the House of Calix through territorial wars. If you wish, an eviction order will be issued immediately in the name of the Imperial Family.”
Lucian’s eyebrows twitched.
The Emperor was giving him the right to take back all the land seized by the House of Calix and its factions?
‘Is he playing with me?’
Sure, if he could actually take it, it would be a massive amount of land. The problem was that the current occupants would never just hand it over. Even the Imperial Family was currently at its wit's end, unable to stop these territorial wars.
If Lucian suddenly showed up and told them to leave because the land was now his, who would actually move?
‘They’d ignore any eviction order and mobilize their armies to kick me out.’
Unless he took it by force through war, they would never retreat. Furthermore, Lucian currently had no private army and would have to rely on the strength of his allies. If he borrowed troops like that, he would have to distribute the spoils of the land to repay the favor, even if he did manage to occupy it.
“Your Grace, you don’t look pleased.”
“To be honest... I’m not sure what His Majesty is thinking. Does he want me to raise an army and punish them?”
Lucian spoke as politely as possible, though internally, he was cursing.
‘Isn’t this just inciting a civil war to exhaust the North’s strength? No matter how I look at it, he’s trying to use me as a justification and a disposable pawn.’
At this rate, the title of Margrave was nothing but a hollow honor.
Glen, still smiling, shook his head as if he had read between the lines.
“Your Grace, I believe you are mistaken.”
“Mistaken? Does this gift have another meaning, then?”
“The Grimaldi territories were your right from the beginning, so they are not a gift from His Majesty. And the rights to the lands occupied by Calix are more of a request to keep them in check, so that can hardly be called a gift either.”
It was merely a promise of payment if he performed extra labor. Glen pointed to the very center of the map, indicating that the Emperor’s true gift was something else entirely.
“His Majesty has decided to grant you Asagrim.”
“...!?”
Startled, Lucian bolted upright.
“Asagrim? Surely you don’t mean the Asagrim I’m thinking of?”
“Indeed. Right here.”
Glen pointed again to the location in the center of the map to confirm. The area labeled ‘Asagrim’ was colored yellow. On the map, yellow indicated a direct territory of the Emperor.
As Lucian stood there, stunned and speechless, Glen continued.
“His Majesty intends to return the capital of the ancient Northern Kingdom to your embrace.”
After seeing Glen out, Lucian summoned his retainers and called for Viscount Harald as well.
Once everyone was gathered, Lucian spread the map Glen had left behind and spoke.
“His Majesty has bestowed an overwhelming gift upon me.”
“I heard. You’ve been granted the title of Margrave? Where exactly is the fief...?”
“Asagrim.”
“...!?”
The retainers’ eyes widened in shock, and Harald lunged toward the map as if propelled by a spring. Snatching the map with a clatter, Harald frantically scanned it up and down.
“A-Asagrim? You mean Asagrim, the former capital of the Northern Kingdom!?”
“Indeed. His Majesty has granted it to me.”
“By the Eight Gods!”
Harald clutched the map and collapsed to his knees. Tears seemed ready to spill from his reddened eyes at any moment.
Seeing his intense reaction, Hugo and Felicia looked awkward.
“Pardon me, but what exactly is Asagrim? I know it was the old capital and is currently a direct Imperial territory, but...”
“It is the spiritual heart of the North, an impregnable iron fortress, and one of the ancient legacies. Its symbolic, strategic, and artistic value is beyond measure,” Raymond answered Felicia’s question with a grave expression.
He seemed more curious about the Imperial Family’s intentions in giving up such a vital location than he was happy about the gift.
“It’s suspicious. Not only reviving the Grimaldi name but giving away Asagrim? Is this not a trap?”
The reason the Imperial Family kept the old Northern capital as a direct territory was simple: its symbolism meant it could become the center of a future rebellion. Yet, the Imperial Family was not only giving up Asagrim but handing it to a descendant of the old royal family? It was practically an invitation to revive the ancient Northern Kingdom.
“Perhaps we should decline, just in case...”
“Decline? Did you say decline?! The chance to reclaim Asagrim has finally come, and you say we should decline?!”
Before Raymond could finish, Harald snapped his head around. His fierce gaze held a murderous intent, as if he might swing an axe at any moment.
“Who cares if it’s a trap! The glory of the old North is finally being resurrected; what does it matter what their scheme is?! Do you have any idea of the sorrow the North has endured?!”
“My Lord, please calm down...!”
“Calm down?! Do I look like I can be calm right now?!”
“Viscount, compose yourself.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Harald, who had been snarling like a beast, subsided instantly at Lucian’s word. The retainers marveled at how he turned into a rabbit in a single second.
“It likely isn't a trap. Judging by His Majesty’s secret letter, he seems sincere.”
“What did it say?”
“I cannot say. It is information you are better off not knowing.”
The retainers, and even Harald, flinched. If he put it that way, it meant the contents were a secret so dangerous that merely knowing them was a risk.
“The important thing is that while he might not go as far as the reconstruction of the Northern Kingdom, he is willing to overlook the birth of a Great Lord on the level of an Elector.”
“Surely it doesn't come without a price?”
“In exchange, His Majesty wants me to support the First Prince. It seems the First Prince’s foundation is even weaker than expected.”
“No, why on earth would... hmm.”
Raymond started to say something about the Emperor’s unusual obsession with the First Prince but bit his tongue.
‘Information we shouldn't know, an absurdly risky move, favors that are beyond excessive, and the reason he will never choose the Second Prince.’
As various pieces of information clicked together in his mind, a chilling hypothesis emerged. Raymond quickly shook the thought away before it could become any clearer. Whether it was the truth or a delusion, it was not something that could ever be spoken aloud.
“At any rate, if it’s true, it’s wonderful news. Is there a problem?”
“The competition for the head of the family is the problem. The gift is perfect, but if I accept this, I’ll be tied to the North for a while.”
With Calix watching like a hawk, he couldn't just appoint a proxy and leave. If he looked away for even a moment, he didn't know when or where he’d be stabbed in the back. But if he stayed here, he would automatically be disqualified from the succession race.
“His Majesty said he would recognize my succession rights to Valdek, but that means nothing if my father disqualifies me. I called you all to see if you had any ideas.”
“...Um, my Lord. Actually, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”
Hugo, who had been listening quietly, stepped forward hesitantly. As Lucian tilted his head for him to continue, Hugo pulled a small piece of paper from his tunic.
“Actually, a letter arrived a short while ago. They said Senior Hans sent it to you from the main estate.”
“What? Hans sent me a letter?”
“Yes. One of my old subordinates, who’s now working under Senior Hans, brought it.”
Lucian snatched the paper from Hugo’s hand. When he unfolded the crumpled sheet, crooked characters met his eyes. The writing, learned during his butler training, was awkward but legible.
[- Jordi acting suspicious. Signs of rebellion. Bringing Ian to the North soon. Don't reply. Might get caught.]
“...!”
After reading the letter, Lucian closed his eyes in silence. It seemed there was only one choice left.
“Hans has been acting suspicious lately.”
“Hans? Who is that?”
Jordi, the Second Young Master of the Grand Ducal House of Valdek, tilted his head at his confidant’s words. It sounded like a commoner’s name he’d heard before, but he couldn't quite place it.
“He is the Third Young Master’s personal servant. He’s currently receiving butler training within the family.”
“Ah, that servant who used to tremble behind Lucian? What about him?”
“He’s been liquidating everything he can for cash and buying up food and travel clothes. It seems he’s planning to flee the estate in secret.”
“Ha.”
Jordi let out a short laugh at the report.
“How amusing. While everyone else is blissfully ignorant, a mere servant manages to sense something.”
“Shall I deal with him?”
“Forget it. Just leave him be.”
“Are you sure?”
“If we move just to kill a single servant, it’ll only invite unnecessary suspicion. Besides, his death won't be much of a blow to my third brother. He already took all the useful ones with him anyway.”
Felicia, the future Sword Saint; Raymond, formerly of the Black Lions; and Hugo, the former underworld boss. Lucian had taken every single person who could actually be called a talent. Killing a talentless servant would only cause a moment of anger before he was replaced by someone else.
“Better to just let him go. There’s no need to risk our great undertaking just to catch a rat.”
“As you wish.”
“Don't waste your attention on trivial matters and make sure the preparations are perfect. There isn't much time left until the day of the uprising.”
At Jordi’s dismissal, the confidant bowed deeply and departed. Watching his back, Jordi waited until he was sure no one else was around before muttering.
“If you have business, speak quickly. Don't make me uneasy by lurking in the shadows.”
[...You noticed?]
A sinister voice drifted from the shadows. It was a chilling tone, but Jordi gave a smirk, pretending to be unfazed.
“Whenever you arrive, the air around here turns freezing. How could I not notice when the back of my neck feels so cold? Especially since we’ve met so often, not just once or twice.”
[Thank you for telling me. Most people, other than my master, don't get a second meeting.]
“Are you threatening me now?”
[I am merely stating a fact. I suppose I should thank you for pointing out a flaw I hadn't considered.]
Jordi’s brow furrowed at the monotone voice. The man was always unpleasant, but today he felt even more eerie.
“Enough. Tell me your business. Why have you come today?”
[I have come to deliver my master’s letter.]
A moment later, a small letter emerged from the shadows. Jordi picked it up, checked the contents, and nodded.
“Good. Then I shall move according to the plan on the day your master specified.”
[Failure is not an option, so please be thorough.]
“My own head is on the line if this fails; do you think I’d be careless? Stop worrying about useless things and deliver my message clearly.”
Jordi’s lips curled into a smile as he watched the discarded letter vanish, as if sucked into the shadows.
“Tell him that once I become the Grand Duke as promised, I will spare no effort for His Highness the Second Prince.”