Chapter 27
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 27
Chapter Title: The Duke of the North Rolls as the Mastermind (2)
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In a cave without dragons, wyverns reign as kings.
This was an old proverb from the continent.
After King Ferris Duke vanished from Aselina's faction, a fierce power struggle erupted among the faction's nobles over who would seize control during those few days.
However, today, a black dragon appeared in the cave where those wyverns were clawing at each other.
The massive conference room in the Papal Palace where the meeting was taking place.
Over thirty nobles sat on either side of a huge rectangular table.
All of them were prominent figures in noble society.
Yet even these cunning veterans were visibly tense.
"-That man still hasn't arrived?"
Breaking the heavy silence thick with tension, an elderly duke seated closest to the head of the table finally spoke.
The one the old duke referred to was, of course, the meeting's organizer, Duke Robertus Bilheim of the North.
"...What an arrogant bastard. He's not even Aselina herself, yet he summons us personally and dares to be late."
A few nodded in agreement with his words.
The night before, a sudden letter had arrived for them.
It was the usual summons for a meeting.
The purpose stated on the summons was the same as always.
A conference for Aselina's ascension as Saintess.
But the problem was the issuer.
Not Ferris Duke, who had always called them before, nor Aselina Radain, their 'nominal' leader...
It was none other than Robertus Bilheim himself.
"We still haven't agreed among ourselves on who will lead Aselina's supporters going forward..."
The old duke scanned the room.
For now, the faction's nobles seemed to have temporarily recognized him as their leader.
"-At the very least, we all agree that the Duke of the North must not take that seat."
"Duke Allen is right."
"Exactly! We just drove out Ferris Duke— we can't let some young upstart take his place!"
The nobles voiced their agreement with the old duke even more vehemently.
The wyverns paused their squabbling for the moment.
Their goal was obvious: drive out the black dragon known as the Duke of the North invading their territory.
No matter how blinded they were by personal ambition, they knew full well that territorial disputes only worked when the territory itself remained intact.
They had gathered here well before the meeting time stated in the notice, discussed, and reached the conclusion to oust Robertus.
The nobles of Aselina's faction, united against a common enemy right before their eyes.
"-Then, who will sit at the head?"
But at that casual remark from someone, the entire conference room fell silent once more.
The nobles' gazes shifted not to the seats on either side of the rectangular table where they sat, but to the single empty seat at the head.
This head seat was reserved for the meeting's leader and organizer.
By the rules, Robertus would sit there.
But the nobles had just agreed to prevent him from doing so.
So, naturally, they needed to show Robertus upon his arrival.
That someone else was already sitting there in his place.
It would be the strongest way to convey, 'We do not recognize you as our leader.'
"...Ahem."
Yet not a single person in the room stepped forward to claim the head seat.
They feared treading the same path as Ferris Duke.
The news of Ferris Duke's purge had shocked Aselina's faction nobles deeply.
Though they had rebelled first, Ferris had been the faction's head, and before that, the Duke of the South and one of noble society's top heavyweights.
Yet Robertus had easily purged that Ferris Duke using Aselina.
The nobles reached this conclusion:
-If he removed Ferris Duke so easily, how much simpler would it be for him to purge me?
The nobles opposed Robertus.
But at the same time, they didn't want to foolishly strut before that terrifying man, get on his bad side, and end up purged.
They had banded together against a common enemy for now, but their selfish natures hadn't changed.
That empty head seat symbolized their contradictory situation.
"How about Duke Allen takes the head seat?"
One noble beside him, who had been leading the discussion so far—the old duke—recommended him.
"Ahem, ahem! I must decline. This old body of mine isn't suited for such a heavy responsibility... Ah, yes! Marquis Wilhelm! What about you? You who bravely led soldiers on the front lines..."
"Oh, no, no! A rough fellow like me isn't fit to lead anyone. Duke Keynes would be better..."
"I, well..."
The pointed one nominates another, who desperately passes the buck to yet another.
A chain of responsibility-shifting ensued.
Soon, the conference room descended into chaos where everyone talked but no one listened, and still, no one sat at the head.
Creeeak—
The sound of the door opening.
And finally, the star of the show arrived.
All mouths and tongues that had been wagging busily snapped shut as they turned to stare at Robertus in unison.
The Duke of the North, still exuding a sharp intimidation simply by his presence.
He leisurely scanned the room before looking at the empty head seat.
"Leaving this seat open for me... I can only express my gratitude for your warm welcome."
His relaxed smile seemed to pierce right through what had transpired in the conference room,
as if he saw exactly how their pathetic display had ended with them yielding the head seat to him.
Duke Robertus Bilheim of the North walked over slowly but confidently and took the head seat.
The nobles' gazes, mixed with hostility and tension, crossed with Robertus's leisurely ones.
"Well then, let us begin the meeting."
What the hell? They actually left the head seat empty.
On my way to the conference room, I'd been worrying nonstop whether someone else would be sitting there and, if so, how I'd boot them out.
Anyway, what a relief.
"Well then, let us begin the meeting."
Of course, now the real game begins.
I have to be careful—extra careful—not to let the Northern Duke mask I'm wearing slip.
The nobles before me are sly as serpents, having devoted their lives to scheming and backroom deals.
I've got the initiative for now, but one moment of carelessness and they'll snatch it away.
"-A moment, if you will."
See? They're already lunging before we even start.
"Speak, Duke Allen."
"Why are you leading this meeting? No—on what authority did you even summon us?"
The old duke picks a fight.
A few nobles nod along, muttering to their neighbors in agreement with the old duke.
Aselina's faction nobles.
"Simple. Aselina recognizes me as her proxy, and as that proxy, I summoned you—her supporters—to hold this meeting."
"You claim Aselina recognizes you? Proof?"
"Just ask her yourself. But this time, allow me to turn the question on all of you here..."
Time to throw a little jab.
"-If you truly believed I lacked the authority, you wouldn't have shown up to my summons in the first place, would you?"
"!"
Duke Allen is speechless, and everyone exchanges panicked glances.
Come on, enough with the petty bickering—let's get to the main point.
They're all itching to tear me apart.
"...Ahem. Fine, we understand you have some connection to Aselina. But!"
Of course, Duke Allen and the others have no intention of backing down so easily.
A long, tedious one-against-many debate follows, one I can't let my guard down during for even a second.
The nobles bombard me with questions.
-Are you aware of the current political landscape surrounding the Saintess election?
-Do you think it's justified that you used your ties to Aselina to purge Ferris Duke?
-Do you really believe you, with so little experience in politics despite your recent ascension to duke, can lead us?
The questions vary, but the goal is singular.
To prove I lack the qualifications to lead.
-Of course, I've fully grasped the election's current dynamics in detail. Ask me anything.
-Officially, I have no involvement in that matter. If you claim otherwise, present evidence.
-Didn't you see how I handled Ferris Duke's provocation at the banquet?
Sometimes with straight logic, sometimes with sophistry.
I dismantle their questions one by one.
But nitpicks are endless if you try hard enough.
They won't stop until I lose focus and slip up.
So, I need to flip the board.
Of course, I'd done the groundwork before coming here.
Seizing a lull in the debate, I direct my gaze to a specific noble among them.
Marquis Ranald Boel of the stylish feathered hat, who had been sitting with arms crossed, observing silently.
He met my eyes and gave the slightest nod of understanding.
I'm no fool jumping into the enemy camp alone.
The essence of politics is securing a faction that supports you.
While planning this meeting, I'd recalled the deal with Marquis Boel.
Originally, it was a one-off transaction where I'd bluff ties to Aselina to squeeze unfair, almost scam-like terms from him.
But circumstances changed—I actually allied with Aselina—so our tentative alliance remained valid.
Thus, yesterday, when sending the summons, I'd included an extra letter to the marquis.
-It's time to honor our previous promise. Publicly support me at this meeting. I promise to elevate you as a key figure while I lead the faction.
-But you alone won't suffice, so persuade others who share your views if possible.
His reply came soon after.
-I've been waiting for those words. I'll persuade as many as I can.
I've secured one ally at least.
That's more than enough for me right now, and if he brings more, even better.
Not expecting much, though.
The existing faction is still solid, and joining me is a gamble, so few will switch.
Two or three at best, if he's lucky.
Anyway, my plan is to use this small faction to gradually crush the opposition in today's meeting.
The nodding marquis removed his hat and stood.
All eyes turned to his sudden action.
"-Those who share my will, please stand."
Pretty bold approach.
But making a fuss with just two or three might backfire.
A moment of silence.
Then one stands.
A brief pause, then three more...
Ooh. Four already.
Marquis Boel—I thought he was just some art-loving idler, but he has real talent.
"Count me in."
Another?
"At last, the era of reform begins!"
...Huh?
The standing continues.
After the first four, more pop up like a whack-a-mole game...
"Good. Everyone's up."
When Marquis Boel declared that, including him, eleven were standing.
...How the hell did he pull that off?