Karma

The Noble Council building Ruserik led me to, riding his horse in dignified silence the whole way, sat not far from the jail at all.

Since I had never once visited while living in the capital, I'd pictured something like the British Houses of Parliament, but the building itself was surprisingly modest.

Honestly, I'd worried that the moment I stepped inside everyone would glare at me and try to kill me, but as I passed some older enlisted men, they didn't recognize me and just muttered among themselves, so it didn't seem like it would be a problem.

"I heard more than twenty have already been killed. The ones who made it back say a single swing of his sword sends a head flying."

I couldn't help but feel relieved that they didn't even know the man they were talking about was walking right past them. Even in several other spots, clusters of them were talking about me, yet no one recognized me.

"They got themselves killed for their own screw-ups, so they won't even get a proper bereavement payment."

"Whose men were they this time?"

"The Etabil Viscount."

"Phew. The loan shark's pulled off another one. They said he kept bringing in endless private soldiers, but he's probably just hiring them from some random tavern, isn't he?"

"Maybe he lures them in by putting them in debt to the thugs. You'd think he'd spare a thought for us who have to deal with the mess."

It was such unexpectedly candid talk for something I'd just happened to overhear that I nearly turned around despite myself. They were saying that sort of thing so casually in an official setting?

Even the private soldiers Ruserik had brought looked as if their very training differed from the ones I'd killed... but I had never imagined their sense of allegiance would be different too. They were practically treated like a different unit. And a loan shark? Could the one who had scammed my friend Gies be this Etavil character?

Before I had any time to focus on the question and search my memories, Ruserik simply kept walking briskly and guided me to an antique room on the third floor. Then he knocked lightly and called out.

"Your Excellency. Sir Eldmia Ega has arrived."

"Enter."

Following that voice ripe with experience, I passed Ruserik, who opened the door with formal posture, and stepped inside to find an old man wearing an antique-looking monocle smiling as he welcomed me.

"We meet at last. A pleasure. I am Duke Lesrom Zrasil Tusin Rawinera, the Royal Faction's thorn in the side."

Despite a fierce countenance that could never be called mild-mannered, his self-introduction was surprisingly genial. Even if I had never liked the Noble Council, Eldmia Ega knew how to separate the personal from the political and respond to cheerfulness with cheerfulness.

Still, I did my best to adhere to decorum, assumed a proper stance, and returned the greeting.

"A pleasure, Your Excellency. I am Eldmia Ega, the Noble Faction's thorn in the side."

"Hahaha. What a cheerful fellow you are. If there were just two like you in the Noble Council, my remaining years would be far more interesting. Have a seat. It's discourteous to keep a guest who accepted the invitation standing. Ah, but your own introduction was wrong. You, surprisingly, are no thorn in the eye at all."

I supposed the elderly duke had a remarkably open mind. Yet that nuance, as if he already knew about me, nagged at me a little.

"It feels as though you already knew of me."

I didn't take my eyes off him as I sat on the sofa in the center of the room and asked. Duke Lesrom moved with practiced ease, took out a tea set from a side table, and prepared tea with considerable skill as he answered.

What? The duke was serving tea himself?

"Of course. Your recent deeds have been far too conspicuous not to know. I know as much as His Majesty the King does. Which, conversely, means His Majesty is also clearly aware of your existence. Even long before your visit to the Empire, in fact. Ah, there is only one kind of tea here, so try it first and let me know if it isn't to your taste."

Unlike his consistently jovial tone, the content of his words far exceeded my expectations. He'd known about me even before I went to the Empire? Had Sir Ekaf reported on me?

"Are you getting curious? You might not be entirely willing, but I'd like you to find our conversation interesting. A pleasant conversation starts with interest, doesn't it?"

To be honest, Duke Lesrom finished his preparations with a tidiness that reminded me of the Ogatorf head butler making tea, and he walked over without a single wasted movement, set down the teapot, and sat opposite me. Watching this, I couldn't even control my expression because I couldn't believe my eyes.

"I happen to brew tea quite well, despite appearances."

I had expected to meet someone intensely overbearing and steeped in authority, but he was so far beyond my expectations that I couldn't get a read on him at all. While I floundered and stayed silent, Duke Lesrom shrugged once and continued speaking on his own.

"Don't you think magical tools are wonderfully convenient? This pot has a feature that adjusts the temperature perfectly just by injecting ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Mana into its built-in magic stone, so I'm personally very fond of it. It may not look like much functionally, but when I was young, it was technology so sophisticated we could never even have dreamed of it."

"Ah, yes..."

"But this magical engineering wasn't originally created for the purpose of pleasant tea time. It's a by-product of research into a way to strike enemy forces using delayed explosive magic. Amusingly, the mages conducting that research hated doing their work while drinking cold tea, so they casually adapted the magic, and this was the result."

He shook his head with a faint, wistful smile, as if reminiscing. But that expression vanished in an instant, and a different topic seamlessly followed.

"Technology, tools, people. In the end, they produce entirely different results depending on where and how they are used. Yet there are times when everything is handed to someone who can't put the right person in the right place, while someone capable of it has nothing. Lately, such things have been happening so often it burns me up."

Just as I was staring sullenly at him pouring tea, wondering if he was about to suggest I pledge allegiance to the noble faction, he spoke again.

"Delt was the same. He was a talent meant for greater things, but his unshakable loyalty was directed at the wrong man."

The main point suddenly hit home.

Thankfully, this time I managed my expression properly, so I feigned calm and asked in return.

"Who is Delt?"

"Ah, you might not know the name. He was one of the knights you killed about two years ago while trying to rescue Margrave of Levien. The knight who died alongside the wyvern."

Fuck. Regardless, Duke Lesrom's reaction remained unshaken.

I double-checked for any sign of others nearby or any shift in Duke Lesrom's demeanor just in case, but there was nothing strange. He simply looked at me as though I were interesting.

Judging by that composed reaction, it wasn't a bluff; he seemed to have known all along. So why had he stayed silent until now? And wasn't he planning to present the matters concerning Delt as evidence at tomorrow's trial?

I leaned my upper body slightly forward, ready to spring up from my seat at any moment to brace for a possible ambush, but Duke Lesrom smiled and waved a hand.

"You're like a wild animal. Don't worry. How could this be a threat to you? On the contrary, I brought it up precisely because I need to explain the situation in order to seek your understanding."

"I doubt there is any matter for which Your Excellency would need my understanding, other than those concerning ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the Margrave of Levien."

"It is related, indeed. I have to put that worthless Delt's master under the guillotine. If you keep rampaging around, our plan will be derailed."

"...Excuse me?"

What had I just heard? Put someone under the guillotine?

Was this a plan to cut off the tail? No, if that were the case, there was no reason for him to arrange a meeting like this and tell me, was there?

Nothing clicked, and only questions remained as Duke Lesrom spoke calmly with a faint smile.

"I can guess what you're thinking. It isn't a scapegoat maneuver. He was never a tail to cut off in the first place. If I had to put it another way... you could say the time has come to slaughter the wild boar we kept caged so it couldn't misbehave out of sight."

As if he had plucked the thought straight from my mind, Duke Lesrom gave that frank reply and raised his teacup. In contrast to his tranquil demeanor, the words he had just spoken were anything but tranquil, yet his attitude never changed.

"To act with the interests of one's house and territory as the top priority. That is the essence of what a noble pursues, plain and simple. But no matter what, there is a line that must not be crossed, is there not? Cross it, and one is worse than bandits. Naturally, the same goes for those of us grouped together and called the noble faction. Apart from priorities, there is one thing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that must be absolutely upheld."

"...Does such a thing actually get upheld?"

"It must. Swearing loyalty to the royal family. That, at the very least, is non-negotiable and must not be compromised. Well, I cannot say one must uphold it even to the moment one's house is annihilated by the royal family, but short of that dire strait, it must be kept."

It was an answer that came out as though it were obvious, but because it came from the mouth of the noble faction's leader, who stood in opposition to the royal faction, my head tilted to the side and I cast a skeptical eye at him.

Still, Duke Lesrom paid no attention to my rudeness and simply carried on.

"I'd like you to understand that I can't tell you everything yet because I still don't know exactly what kind of person you are. But think about it rationally. We've gotten along just fine by the side of the current royal family all this time, even if we bickered a little, wanting for nothing. If a new house rises up and overthrows the royal family, ultimately isn't it no different from having to rebuild human relationships and losing much of what we've accumulated so far? There'd be no certainty that we could live on with the same profits as before, and we might even suffer losses instead."

The vast majority of nobles are neither young enough nor lacking enough to want to go through that kind of trouble for new wealth and honor.

Duke Lesrom sipped his tea and gave a satisfied smile. His words sounded extremely rational.

"But that's only my own position. Inside the Noble Council, there are still those who believe they themselves are capable and young enough to possess the qualities of a king. Unfortunately, many of those who are truly outstanding are out on the battlefield or absent from the capital, so the comparison pool is small. Perhaps because they've been steadily filling their own bellies while such sacrifices have continued for seven years... they seem to be gradually losing sight of things."

"What does that have to do with the Margrave of Levien?"

"Mm, that too is a bit delicate to explain. For now... I'll only say that her existence played quite a large role in the traitors' plans."

Even if he'd spilled information smoothly, I would have been suspicious anyway, but right now I had absolutely zero basis for trusting Duke Lesrom. And just because the circumstances were such and such, he wanted me to stay quiet? Not a chance.

"That won't stop me from running around for the Margrave of Levien's safety, Your Grace."

"Of course not. Which is why I intend to write you a written oath."

"...A written oath?"

"With no wordplay whatsoever. If, at tomorrow's trial, I fail to fully acquit and release the Margrave of Levien and then expose the traitor... let's see, I will hand over all my titles and property. Naturally, bearing my official seal and signature. What do you say?"

Faced with Duke Lesrom, who was staking all the positions and wealth he held as collateral to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠prove he would act against his own faction and as a pledge for it, there was only one thing I could do.

Run my brain at full capacity and agonize over just what the hell he was scheming.