Chapter 62
Chapter 62
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 61
Chapter Title: The Lies of the High and Mighty
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One of the great triumvirate had passed away at a ripe old age, ascending to the heavens.
He was neither a mighty superhuman nor a master of political intrigue.
He had simply lent fitting wisdom at the leader's side
and assisted with administrative matters beside the second-in-command.
An elder who had risen to such a lofty position purely through wisdom, without schemes, exploitation, or corruption.
He was famous for living so frugally compared to the authority of his rank as third-in-command that the citizens' grief ran even deeper.
"Thank you, sir. We will live diligently as well."
"There, child. You may not understand now, but when you grow up, you'll learn what kind of man he was."
"I will remember, Your Excellency Klanbel."
The old man had refused any official post in life, so even after his passing, Rex did not bestow upon him the title of count.
There was no grand funeral, nor did he grant a massive mountain to serve as his tomb.
Just as written in the old man's will,
they prepared a modest grave for him in the cemetery where those who had sacrificed themselves for the duchy's founding were buried.
A grave no different from the others—no cutting in line, no flashy adornments.
The Providence ducal house's treatment drew expressions of gratitude from the citizens and the bereaved family.
If they had wanted to play at being a benevolent ducal house politically, they would have ignored the old man's will, bestowed meaningless medals and titles, and held a lavish ceremony.
If they had begrudged giving land or honors to the old man, they would have slighted him.
But the ducal house showed the utmost respect, faithful to the old man's final will—neither overly lavish nor meager.
Naturally, the citizens viewed the ducal house's attitude very favorably.
"If I pledge loyalty to the ducal house too..."
"Even if I burn my own body away, my children could receive such treatment?"
"To think loyalty's reward is like this..."
Trifling as it was, such small things accumulated into patriotism.
And so, the average loyalty of the citizens saw a minute increase.
Rex's system notified him of this too, but from his perspective, it was simply the proper treatment for a departed loyal retainer, so he paid it little mind.
However, there were those who interpreted this atmosphere differently.
"Reports say the ducal house is greatly shaken right now. This is our chance."
In the south of the Providence Duchy.
The Esirick royal house, which the Providence ducal house officially called the southern puppet regime.
Officially, they did not recognize each other as nations, and having only recently entered a ceasefire, they were in a state of mutual surveillance.
In this situation of sending spies to one another, the royal house's intelligence agency had detected unrest in the duchy.
"Riots are breaking out simultaneously across the nation right now. Since the duke legally permitted protests, everyone and their brother is voicing grievances against him."
The head of the intelligence agency confidently submitted his report.
The prime minister and king, reviewing the report, sneered at the Providence ducal house.
"In any case, getting swayed by cheap sympathy."
"Give the lowly ones good treatment, and they'll just climb over you."
"As expected of base-born stock—they're self-destructing on their own."
To them, the populace was something to be periodically controlled, suppressed, and exploited in moderation.
A constitutional monarchy where one bound oneself by laws one had made, like Rex, was incomprehensible to them.
They saw the protests erupting across the duchy as the signal for civil war.
"So, what's the reason for the protests?"
At the interior minister's question, the agency head displayed his materials with conviction.
"It's about the succession issue."
"Succession issue?"
"With no heir, the merchants and vassals are clamoring to be adopted as foster sons."
It was nothing of the sort.
The field agents' reports had only briefly mentioned "succession issue," but the reality was entirely different.
From the agency head's perspective, however, this interpretation fit common sense.
There was also the agency head's own negligence.
High-ranking officials rarely verify the truth of materials prepared by their underlings—they just report them as is.
This was an eternal human fate, persisting even in civilizations thousands of years more advanced than this world.
"Haha. As expected!"
But the king seemed to receive this information differently.
He knew Rex's confidante and spy was Ari.
A filthy worshipper of the Demon King, imitating his beloved princess, Arabella.
A king like Rex surely wouldn't abstain from women, and he assumed the duke's favorite concubine mimic was infertile due to black magic side effects.
'Good.'
At least he wouldn't worry about that filthy bloodline continuing.
Esirick's king urged the agency head on with a faint smile.
"Is that all?"
"No. Recently, the ducal house's third-in-command died."
"Cause of death?"
"Natural causes."
The ministers looked disappointed at the report.
Had it been assassination or purge amid power struggles, they could have fanned even greater chaos.
But as if anticipating such reactions, the agency head continued his report with a smug smile.
"However, it seems the ducal house didn't care much for him."
The agency head added details on Klanbel's funeral.
Klanbel received no titles, no fiefs, no tomb, no medals.
Even his burial was in the national cemetery with ordinary knights.
Considering a nation's third-in-command was typically marshal or prime minister level, this was snubbing taken to extremes.
"Even his children never rose to public office."
The children of the third-in-command should have leveraged connections for cushy posts everywhere.
Yet the eldest was demoted to an obscure sinecure where even "historian" might be too generous,
and from the second son to the youngest daughter, the best any managed was mayor.
A duchy that size could afford to grant lordships, and indeed Sneria and some ministers had become lords.
The fact that the third-in-command's children topped out at mayor signaled utter neglect.
Moreover, some wandered the duchy homeless, reduced to beggars—fall from grace didn't get more precipitous.
"Haha! His citation skills must not have been top-notch!"
"You don't develop that overnight."
Believing glory stemmed from power and wealth as common sense, they had no doubt Klanbel's house had fallen.
"Loyalty must be scraping bottom there too."
Who would pledge loyalty to a house that snubbed its founding merit and third-in-command like this?
Proof positive the duchy was greatly shaken.
"With the prime minister dead, they must be in turmoil too, right?"
Ask when an organization, nation, or territory is most unstable: first is when the leader dies, second when a close aide does.
The royals guessed Klanbel's position as prime minister, so with him gone, now was the duchy's weakest moment.
Of course, the agency head affirmed the king's guess.
'Grand Chancellor? What's that title?'
His report listed Klanbel's title as Grand Chancellor, but he roughly guessed it was prime minister level.
In truth, it was an honorary role like an external advisor nagging and counseling the lord after retirement, with no real power or money.
But they couldn't imagine a territory's third-in-command settling for such a powerless post.
A warm atmosphere pervaded the Esirick royal conference.
Not particularly united by patriotism, they still felt good seeing the northern puppet state suffer.
Humans naturally take joy in others' misfortune, after all.
Then, as the agency head continued his rosy report, his expression suddenly hardened.
"However, there's one crucial piece of intelligence first."
"Speak."
"Klanbel... created secret manuals for the duchy’s citizens."
"!!!"
Lightning flashed through everyone's minds in the conference room.
"Is that true?!"
"Yes. Duke himself declared it a book written by Klanbel."
"Must've gone senile in his old age."
Typically, secret manuals containing mental visualizations were monopolized by the author or secretly passed to children or top disciples at death.
The idea of distributing such manuals to the entire populace was incomprehensible.
It amounted to arming every citizen heavily.
Not only did it heighten rebellion risk, but a recluse master might suddenly emerge to shake the regime.
And there were 12 types of manuals, no less—sounded like "pass them around till you find one that suits your aptitude."
"Why make that choice...?"
"Your Majesty, this is mere conjecture on my part..."
The agency head pieced together a story from the intelligence on why the manuals were being distributed.
"Perhaps to quell the duchy's unrest, they sacrificed Klanbel."
Per reports: riots first, then Klanbel dies, months later Duke finds the manuals in his mansion and decides to distribute them to the people.
The agency head spun this yarn:
First, Rex spoiled the populace, so the lowly rioted without knowing their place.
Too soft-hearted now to suppress them by force, the duke decided to sacrifice the third-in-command's house to soothe public sentiment.
Conveniently, with the third-in-command deceased, he cast out his children and had Duke seize the house's manuals.
Then scattered them to the masses to placate them.
'It feels a bit off somehow...'
Even the teller sensed the story's awkwardness.
But in this cutthroat royal court where incompetence meant purge, admitting "I don't know!" would see the agency head "suicided" tomorrow.
He had to fabricate something—even if forced.
Of course, to distract from oddities, he'd prepared stimulating, attention-grabbing evidence the king wouldn't question.
"Foolish long-term, but... highly effective for 10 years."
Average citizen tier rises, advantageous in war.
After 10 years, the lowly would use that power to climb, but that span was plenty to end the Esirick royals—at least.
The evidence he presented was most persuasive.
No one in the conference room noticed the story's inconsistencies.
'Phew...'
Thirty years holding this post weren't for nothing.
Then, the magic minister raised his hand.
"Perhaps they planted traps in those manuals. No, definitely."
Embed fake insights or techniques in the visualizations; later, use them to control the populace.
For instance, undetectable during training, but once breaking through walls, Rex reveals some spell or info, plunging them into qi deviation.
That way, safe even after 10 years.
"That's what I'd do."
The magic minister controlled his disciples and subordinates that way, so he was certain.
No reason not to.
The conference room's mood darkened at his words.
"Then..."
"The duke's likely to start a war within 10 years."
"Why not invade first?"
"Fool? We're just as unprepared."
The royals' situation was worse, in fact.
Lords still fending for themselves; the royals didn't want losses either.
Start a war and weaken, and marquesses or counts preserving strength would devour the royals whole.
Emphasize again: the royals were merely the strongest lord, not the kingdom's legitimate ruler.
"Tch... To think..."
For this moment, they marveled at whatever sorcery let that caliber maintain centralization.
"Must be that knight called Duke, right?"
The strategic weapon flashing south, then east—surely enabling perfect central control.
"Even the duke controlling such a knight is shrouded in mystery..."
What manner of monster was Rex Providence, holding that beast's leash? Unimaginable.
The ministers wiped their faces one after another.
Especially some regretted their past deeds.
When Rex was an academy student, they'd bribed a scientist upon learning their children lost marks to him, making Rex vanish.
That snowballed: Rex gained some ability from the doctor, met Duke, used that data to train countless superhumans.
That lax handling had returned as massive karma.
'Should've assassinated him outright.'
Problem was siccing the doctor on him to avoid dirty hands.
The gloomy silence was broken by the king.
"Could we... steal those manuals?"
The king's proposal solved all issues.
Originals gone, the promised distribution fails, public sentiment sours again, duchy weakens further.
The agency head nodded at the question.
"They haven't distributed yet—it's scheduled. They're developing a printing press called metal type movable print; distribution starts once complete."
The agency head sweated bullets, desperately offering a plan.
"Originals held by the knight Duke now, but once the press is done, they'll have to send them to the factory. Stealable then."
"Good. How long?"
"Estimating three years for development."
"Prepare for then."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The agency head saluted, mopping his brow with a handkerchief.
The king gave his subordinate not even a glance, lost in thought.
'Must stop it.'
He couldn't tolerate the existence that took his cherished concubine's life and tormented his daughter.
'Will end that filthy subhuman bloodline for sure.'
Steal the manual originals, plunge the duchy into deeper chaos.
Bonus: snag the printing press too.
Then strike when weakest: war anew.
Minimize royal losses, check the lords, destroy the duchy.
Ceasefire accord?
Who cared about scraps of paper.
For his one darling daughter, he'd raze even war.
Expendable commoners? Plenty to burn through.