Chapter 9
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: Yeah, I'm Your Duke of the North
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Yeah, I'm your Duke of the North.
Thud.
I confidently thrust out my right hand and gripped the hilt of the holy sword.
"Hoo..."
Let's go, Master! Show them how awesome you are!
"Hup!"
I yanked the sword upward with all my strength, finally drawing the slumbering holy sword—
"..."
Or rather, that was the plan.
"Hng."
Eh?
"Urgh."
This time I gripped it with both hands, planted my feet on the rock, and pulled upward, but it still wouldn't come out.
"Hey, why won't you budge? Are you sealed with magic or something?"
I whispered into the sword as quietly as possible, just in case someone overheard.
No! It's just stuck in the rock.
"...So that means I'm the weak one."
I'd forgotten.
Every ancestor in the Bilheim family was a monster when it came to raw power.
The Fifth Grand Duke who planted the holy sword in that rock must have had freakish strength no normal person like me could match.
F-For now, I'll hide it so the others can't see!
Fwosh!
Uwaaak! The light of the holy sword...!
The light pouring from the holy sword had grown so intense that it was impossible to even keep my eyes open.
"Ugh..."
Now's your chance, Master! I'll lend you a bit of my power!
Ssshh...
I felt something flowing from the holy sword into my hand.
Power overflowed through my arms.
Now...!
"Hah!"
Craaaack...
Shiiiing!
A blinding flash engulfed the entire cathedral.
Everyone attending the succession ceremony covered their eyes in panic, shouting to each other about what was happening.
And at last, the light began to fade.
"..."
One by one, people cautiously lowered the arms shielding their eyes.
"L-Look over there! The holy sword...!"
What they witnessed was Robertus's back as he pulled the holy sword free from the rock.
The holy sword, dormant for 150 years, had awakened in his grasp.
"Ooooh...!"
Pure exclamations of awe rippled through the attendees,
"I-Is that okay? I heard Holy Sword Aurelion was under a curse..."
while some worried whether it was truly fine for the sword to be unsealed.
Step, step.
The moment Robertus turned around and walked toward the front of the podium, every last one of them fell silent.
The attendees watched him without so much as blinking, wondering what would happen next.
"..."
Sweeping a sharp gaze across the crowd with the sword held in one hand,
swish.
he slowly raised it before his chest, gripping it with both hands.
Hummm—
At the same time, light flowed from the holy sword once more.
Unlike before, this was a soft, warm mist of light.
The radiant mist rose into the air, gathering at the center of the hall and shining down on everyone like the sun itself.
As all eyes were entranced by the glowing orb,
Hear me.
The orb scattered and reformed, taking on a shape.
"I am Holy Sword Aurelion, apostle of light sent to this land by Lord God Juten."
The light coalesced into the form of a gigantic woman.
From her lips came a majestic, sacred voice.
"When Lord Juten sent me to this land, He decreed: 'You shall become a sword and cleave evil with light.'"
The people simply gazed up at her, utterly entranced.
"'Great power must return to those worthy to wield it, so I bestow you upon the guardian of the North, Cedric Bilheim, and his descendants.'"
"Thus, as the holy sword, I belonged to the Bilheim family—those who chose to become the eternal guardians of the North—and gladly struck down their foes. However..."
The holy sword paused at this point.
"...150 years ago, in battle against a mighty demon beast, I fell under a curse, lost my holy power, and was sealed into slumber."
"Yeah, I've heard that story. The holy sword used to be the Duke of the North's weapon, but after the curse, no one could wield it..."
"Shh...! I can't hear what she's saying."
"Ever since, I have waited. For the one to awaken me from this deep slumber. To break the curse and once more illuminate the world with the light of the holy sword..."
The sword's incarnation, gazing down at the attendees, turned her head.
The crowd followed her gaze.
"And at last, the chosen one has appeared."
Now every eye turned to Robertus.
"Robertus Bilheim. Tenth guardian of the North. And the one who shattered the curse that bound me, restoring the light of the holy sword."
She smiled.
"I hereby declare: I, Holy Sword Aurelion... have chosen Robertus Bilheim as my master."
⟨ Holy Sword Aurelion ⟩
Fwosh.
The woman's form scattered in an instant.
Even the lingering glow faded completely, and silence descended upon the hall.
Tap, tap.
The light footsteps crossing the podium shattered the quiet.
The Pope rose from her seat and approached Robertus.
Standing to his left with a beaming smile, she cried out.
"With this, all rites of the succession ceremony are complete!"
This was a line that should have come from the archbishop overseeing the ceremony.
But after the holy sword's manifestation, he was completely out of it, staring blankly as the Pope stole his role.
"Moreover, most auspiciously, Robertus Bilheim has broken the curse of Holy Sword Aurelion and claimed it boldly in his own hand."
"Thus, I, the sixteenth Pope Mercadie Radain, declare! Robertus Bilheim is formally the Duke of the North and is recognized as the true wielder of the holy sword!"
The succession ceremony of Robertus Bilheim, tenth Duke of the North—a whirlwind of rapid developments.
The stunned crowd, speechless with shock,
clap.
clap clap clap—!
-Waaaaah!
only erupted into thunderous applause and roaring cheers for Robertus after the Pope's proclamation.
Standing on the podium, I scanned the faces one by one.
Commoners flooding in through the cathedral entrance like a tide, showering me with fervent cheers.
Butler Henriotte clapping with a pleased smile, Eline endlessly dabbing at her streaming tears with a handkerchief, and the mansion staff, all visibly moved.
Bilheim territory officials clapping dazedly along with those around them.
Some clapped and rejoiced like the others,
but a good number of the heads of vassal families and visiting nobles whispered among themselves in disbelief, shooting me constant sidelong glances.
"To even receive the holy sword's acknowledgment—a perfect debut as Duke of the North. Congratulations."
Mercadie flashed me her kindly grandmotherly smile.
How was it, Master? I did great, right? No one can ignore you now!
The Pope to my left, the holy sword in my right hand.
And from the front, the full force of everyone's cheers and attention raining down on me.
"..."
I had no idea anymore.
Whatever happens, happens.
Whoosh.
I thrust the holy sword in my right hand high into the air.
-Wooooooow!!!!
Yeah. I'm your Duke of the North.
Originally, right after the succession ceremony, the new Duke was supposed to host a banquet personally, but I canceled it.
I wasn't in the mood for etiquette or any of that nonsense.
An outrageous breach of noble etiquette, but no one lodged a complaint.
They were probably all itching to rush back to their families and gossip about what they'd witnessed.
The Pope, too, patted my arm with an approving look right after the ceremony and departed without a word.
Thinking back now, the way she was on her tiptoes, she must have been trying to reach my shoulder.
And so, I, Robertus Bilheim, became the 'Great Guardian of the North, Ruler of the Radain Holy Kingdom's Northern Territories, and Head of the Bilheim Family'...
In other words, the Duke of the North.
In a typical hero's tale, this would be about where it ends.
[And so, Robertus Bilheim overcame trials and tribulations, drew the holy sword, and ascended to the seat of Duke of the North. He would go on to etch his name into the annals of holy kingdom history as the great Northern Duke],
or some such drivel...
Unfortunately, my life didn't end there,
and the tale of Robertus Bilheim continues.
No—truth be told, this is where the real story begins.
When most people think of the Duke of the North, they picture either the 'cool-on-the-surface but obsessively devoted sub-male lead who shows a weak side to the heroine' from romance fantasies,
or the 'ruthless warlord leveraging overwhelming military might to threaten the central government' from TV dramas.
So, as someone experiencing life as the Duke of the North firsthand in real time, how would I answer the question 'What's it like being the Duke of the North?'...
Busy.
Insanely busy.
It's been nearly two weeks since the succession ceremony, and nothing out of the ordinary has happened.
I wake up early every morning and sign paperwork that somehow piles up no matter how much I process,
have a simple lunch, then undergo Henriotte's rigorous training,
then back to documents.
Wash up, sleep, and repeat.
No booze, of course.
My succession ceremony must have been the talk of the town.
Yet surprisingly, not much has actually changed in my daily life.
If I had to name one thing,
Master, Master! More paperwork today?
"Yeah."
...Boring. I wanna play with you more.
...the fact that I now have a holy sword that talks to me, I suppose.
Days that make me wonder if I passed a mid-level civil service exam instead of becoming Duke.
Of course, higher positions generally mean proportionally more work,
but even factoring that in, my workload is excessively brutal.
The root cause is my esteemed father, former Duke Palthion.
Dad shirked his duties, stirred up chaos everywhere he went, trashed the territory's administration, and got himself killed by a White Dragon—leaving all his messes squarely on my plate.
"...Haa."
Fed up with the endless tasks that never seemed to end no matter how much I did, I flung the documents I'd been reading onto the desk and slumped back into my chair.
Knock knock.
Damn. Eline? Or Henriotte?
Whoever it was, it didn't change the fact that they were bringing more work for me to handle.
"It's Eline. Pardon the intrusion."
"Yeah..."
I gave a half-hearted reply without even glancing her way as she entered.
"What documents this time?"
"...Not documents."
"Hm?"
"A letter from Holy Capital Arundel addressed to the family head."
"Holy Capital?"
I started to rise from my chair to take it from her, but got too lazy and plopped back down.
"Read it for me."
"Is that alright? It's addressed to you..."
"I trust you that much."
Even after I became Duke, Eline's demeanor toward me hadn't changed much.
Stoic by nature, but flawlessly diligent in her duties.
She'd occasionally sneak fond glances at me with an uncharacteristically gentle smile, then get embarrassed when I noticed...
"...Ahem. Very well. Then..."
...or get a little flustered when praised, like this—those were the noticeable changes.
With her face slightly flushed, Eline carefully opened the letter and began to read.
"..."
I glanced at her face, and before I knew it, she wore a grave expression.
"What's it say to get that look?"
"...It looks like you need to head to the Holy Capital."
"What? Why?"
"The Holy Capital Assembly, postponed due to the previous family head's accident, is being reconvened."
She held out the letter to me.
At the bottom, there was a signature in flowing script.
The name... Mercadie Radain.
"Northern Duke Robertus Bilheim, attend the upcoming Holy Capital Assembly as representative of the Northern Territories. By order of the Pope."