Chapter 265
Chapter: 265
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>Translator: penny
>Chapter: 265
>Chapter Title: To the Imperial Capital (2)
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>Hendrick Margrave had a throbbing headache from the recent developments. Nothing was going according to plan.
*This shouldn't be possible.*
The margrave always calculated for maximum variables, devising nearly flawless plans with multiple contingency stages for any deviations.
That was why he hadn't panicked when Prince Mores suddenly appeared in his territory demanding control of the drug tea distribution hub. If drug tea failed, he had the next step.
He hadn't faltered during the unprecedented grand assault either. He had a final bastion hidden until the very end.
*But why?*
The answer was obvious upon reflection.
The variables created by Prince Mores were always far beyond what humans could predict or prepare for.
Everything revolved around the prince and was going awry. Not just the drug tea and Milo Merchant Company, but even the Penance Church's movements.
*Now holy relics, of all things!*
He'd dismissed it as nonsense at first, but there stood an ice knight boldly under the count's sponsorship!
The holy relic investigator dispatched from the capital had officially documented it as proof of the "Knight of Grace" descending. It was a situation he could never have anticipated.
*I thought the prince would quietly cover it up this time...*
Given Prince Mores's position, once tainted by suspicious rumors.
Publicizing the use of demonic beasts would do no good, so he'd planned to feign a cover-up while extracting some minor benefits.
But now the situation had reversed.
*Better to be known as a territory protected directly by a divine holy relic from the Lord than shamed as one saved by demonic beasts!*
That was why Prince Mores hadn't warned him in advance. It was as if he were retaliating in full for the margrave's attempt to downplay the princes' contributions.
With news of the holy relic's descent spreading across the continent, his ambition to showcase Sigismund's strength in the north had fizzled.
What meaning was there in downplaying the princes' feats now? And what of relations with the Penance Church moving forward!
*Moreover, Prince Mores won't just let it slide.*
His head already ached thinking about what the prince would demand as compensation for the diminished credit.
Yet on the eve of departure, when Prince Mores appeared in his study, the first words out of his mouth were these.
"Margrave, give me Max."
"......?"
"I promise. I'll make Max happier than anyone else in the world."
For a moment, the margrave couldn't comprehend what he was hearing.
Meanwhile, a list of the territory's useful talents—from Wolf Knights to lowly soldiers—flashed through his mind.
*Sir Marx is a retiree on the verge of old age. The Marx from the lower village who joined recently has some talent, but he's still just a squire. Neither has any connection to the margrave, and they're hardly worth coveting. Who could he mean...?*
The prince then added with a pitying look.
"What are you thinking so deeply about, Margrave? Is this really something to deliberate over?"
"My apologies, Your Highness. But which Marx do you mean...?"
"What nonsense is that? I'm talking about the wolf pup in the kennel."
"Ah? Yes. Of course."
He'd heard the prince doted on a certain wolf pup.
Still, it hadn't occurred to him immediately because he'd never imagined the prince would demand that dog from the start.
Above all, Hendrick Margrave didn't memorize the names of every hound. He tracked all human resources in the territory, but for dogs, only numbers mattered—individual traits were beneath notice.
"What can I do? Can you give him to me?"
"Of course, Your Highness. Hunting dogs are yours to command as you wish."
Disposing of a dog unworthy of negotiation leverage risked backfiring if used as a ploy. Better to earn some goodwill.
"Good. As expected, you know how to hold a conversation."
The prince smiled in satisfaction, then strode to the side and pulled a book from the study shelf.
He flipped through it carelessly before shoving it back and grabbing another binder.
It was identical to the idle habits of old man Vincent whenever he entered the study on business.
"......"
The margrave barely suppressed a frown.
The study was his domain, a space fully controlled by his rules. He detested even the slightest disruption.
He could only lament that both Prince Mores and old man Vincent—two people he couldn't touch—shared the same habit.
"To be frank, Margrave. I was a bit impressed this time."
Thud.
Prince Mores finally slotted the binder into the shelf and turned his head.
"With Sigismund territory's unimaginable reserves. The ice walls were shattered, many soldiers killed or wounded. Parts of the territory became battlegrounds and collapsed entirely. Yet amid that chaos, the people aren't shivering in the cold or starving."
It sounded like praise, but as an opening to negotiations, it wasn't ideal. Was it a declaration of intent to strip them bare without restraint?
But as always, the margrave masterfully masked his expression and bowed his head.
"Your praise humbles me, Your Highness. It's the result of never neglecting preparations with the peril of the Demonic Wastes at our side."
"Indeed. I know. You've been stockpiling bit by bit over the years for such contingencies."
The words felt oddly pointed.
As Hendrick Margrave furrowed his brow slightly, pondering the implication, Prince Mores—watching him intently—continued.
"That only confirms it further. That you work harder than anyone for the territory's future, without personal gain."
"I'm unworthy of such regard, Your Highness."
Even as he replied, the margrave felt puzzled.
What was the prince getting at?
"But lately, Margrave, sometimes I wonder."
Prince Mores crossed his arms and tilted his head.
"Does the territory's prosperity hold value in itself to you? Regardless of the count's house or the people's well-being."
"...Pardon? What do you mean?"
"Exactly that. You have the continent's most promising son and loyal subjects guarding the territory through the harsh winters. Are they not one and the same as the territory to you?"
"......"
"The Milo Merchant Company's drug tea affair is a good example. Why does it sometimes feel like your actions run completely parallel to their well-being?"
Of course they were different. To Hendrick, they were components of the territory, not the territory itself.
But years of experience taught the margrave this was the wrong answer.
"If it feels that way, it's solely due to my shortcomings. I devote this body entirely to the people and the Empire."
Then, cold, achromatic eyes—reminiscent of the Holy Emperor he'd once faced—gazed at him quietly.
"Just one question, Margrave."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Did you already know they would bring out the [Penance Tree]?"
The sudden thrust at the core nearly made the margrave flinch.
But with desperate effort, he stilled his twitching facial muscles in an instant, mustering a bewildered expression. It was a seasoned response no fledgling prince could pierce.
"Who are 'they,' Your Highness? And what is this [Penance Tree]?"
He already knew of the Demonic Beast assault from the Wolf Knights.
However, few knew its alias as the [Penance Tree]. Grasping it immediately would be the most suspicious thing.
But the margrave had no idea that something in the prince's mind had just whispered in his ear.
*Liar.*
"......"
And the prince smiled. A chilling smile no one would believe came from a young boy.
"Well then. That's the preamble. Shall we discuss the remaining settlements?"
For a time after, the margrave negotiated with Prince Mores on future compensations.
The terms were minor.
They would formally send letters of appreciation to the capital regarding Prince Logan's and Lilyum detachment's feats in the Demonic Wastes.
And grant several priority monopolies in dealings with the newly contracted merchant company.
It was significant but still within the margrave's expected range. Compared to the prince's temperament he'd gauged before, it was even lenient.
*He's considering the territory's plight. I'd feared he'd bide his time and squeeze us for a fortune since he stayed silent till now.*
After seeing the prince off, the margrave approached the bookshelf. He needed to restore the order disrupted by another's touch, which had irked him.
But as he hurried to tidy, he froze upon realizing something unbelievable.
*...It's unchanged?*
Nothing was amiss.
The complex order of books and files, even the deliberate disarray—all intact.
*I clearly saw him pull them out haphazardly and rummage with my own eyes!*
In that instant, the prince's casual words resurfaced in the margrave's mind. He grasped the reason for his earlier unease.
-Indeed. I know. You've been stockpiling bit by bit over the years for such contingencies.
The implication was clear. The prince had investigated every bit of Sigismund's multi-year resource movements.
Even the top-secret records known only to a handful, including the margrave himself!
The margrave stared blankly into space in shock.
*Since when has the prince been coming and going in my study? What all has he seen? No—how much of my plans has he grasped!*
Of course, he didn't keep dangerous documents out in the open. All plans and data existed in his mind.
But others could infer much from seemingly innocuous arrays.
*He didn't come just to negotiate. He was warning me.*
Realizing his rules weren't an omnipotent lock, the margrave couldn't help but feel a chill down his spine.
* * *
[So, what's the conclusion? What exactly did you threaten him with?]
'Who knows...'
Truth be told, despite bluffing confidently in front of the margrave, Seongjin couldn't fully grasp his concrete plans either.
*In the end, a moderate warning was the limit.*
Considering what that bastard did to his sister, he'd love to flay him down to the capillaries, but that would burden Sigismund's subjects, not the margrave.
The margrave wasn't extravagant by nature; he managed funds rationally for the territory.
Now, with the unexpected disaster, Sigismund needed more aid subsidies.
*The margrave has a hidden final card. Likely tied to the Dark Church.*
Seongjin rested his chin, deep in thought.
*I can't take my eyes off Sigismund for a while. Should I tell Dasha to mobilize all Monkey Tower agents for close surveillance...?*
But the demon lord sensed no demonic energy in the territory.
Somehow, human eyes alone felt insufficient. Digging too deep might trap the agents.
After agonizing, Seongjin reached a decision.
*Leave this to Schmidt.*
As the branch chief securing Sigismund's anti-monopoly contract, he could handle this much.
It was perfect for monitoring during contract visits, and he had a rather cute subordinate demon that bleated like a sheep.
[What? You like a familiar that makes such dumb animal noises? Is that why you dote on that mongrel pup that yips nonsense?]
'Why do you keep nitpicking weird things lately?'
But their conversation halted there. They encountered an unpleasant human in the corridor.
"Your Highness! What brings you here!"
The margrave's second son lit up and hurried over, his face promising liver and gall. Seongjin silently studied his face without responding.
"......"
"Is something wrong?"
Seongjin vaguely recalled the sharp malice he'd sensed in his drugged haze before.
-Orden, that bastard—his endless pretentiousness makes me want to puke. I wish he'd just drop dead somewhere.
Dry eyes behind a loose smile. He resembled the margrave's temperament most, but lacked the brains.
Seongjin stared at him before asking.
"Where is the eldest son?"
Crack. A fissure in Emit's smile.
"Pardon?"
"I have no business with you. Where is your brother?"
Emit's face twisted openly as he grumbled. Still a long way from his father.
But regardless of his inner turmoil, Emit had to answer the prince's question.
"...Probably at the training grounds. I'll guide you."
"No need."
Seongjin brushed past, adding.
"Unlike others, the young lord's aura activation is remarkably strong. You can't hide that presence."
"......"
"Why not wrap your perfectly fine arm in bandages and train like your brother? Or help with territory affairs. A grown man feigning illness—what's that about?"
Feeling the venomous glare from behind, Seongjin snorted and quickened his pace.
*Every last one in Sigismund—none appeal to me.*
At least Orden seemed the best among them.
...Orden, of all people.