Chapter 65
Chapter 65
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 64
Chapter Title: The Lies of the High and Mighty
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Rex and Duke's previous lives had an idiom called "Hamheung Chasa."
Roughly speaking, it referred to the story where King Taejo (Yi Seong-gye), the retired first king of Joseon's three great monarchs, got so furious upon hearing that his third-generation king, Taejong (Yi Bang-won), had purged his brothers and ascended the throne.
Taejong, worried about his retired father, sent messengers, but Taejo beat them all to death for no reason, and no news came back.
Of course, this was mere wild history, and the real Yi Seong-gye hadn't harmed a hair on the messengers' heads, making it an unjust rumor.
But by then, the phrase "sent people and they died, so no news returned" had already become widely used.
And the Eschrick royal family was in exactly that situation.
"The Foreign Minister was assassinated?"
The king couldn't hide his bewilderment at the news delivered by the aide who returned alone after being sent with the minister.
Of course, diplomats coming to blows and one side's head being neatly packaged and delivered wasn't all that uncommon.
But once they sat down for negotiations, it was time for civilized conduct.
Yet Duke had violated that unspoken rule.
They sat at the table together, and at the slightest provocation, he yanked out the minister's tongue.
However, the royal family couldn't protest Duke's actions as a diplomatic breach.
After all, it was the royal family's fault that the minister had provoked Duke and turned a blind eye to the factory raid.
If they had to pick who was ruder, the royal family was far more so, making the loss of the minister's tongue seem like a minor faux pas.
The real issue wasn't that—it was the negotiation outcome.
"Pay the reparations as demanded, and send a plenipotentiary envoy?"
The concept of a "plenipotentiary envoy" was new even to the king.
To Duke or Rex, it was familiar from terms like ambassador to the US, Russia, or Japan, but in this world, such diplomatic exchanges weren't that advanced yet.
As if anticipating that the Eschrick royal family wouldn't understand, the duchy included an explanation of the plenipotentiary envoy.
- A plenipotentiary envoy is a diplomat dispatched to represent one nation in another country, residing there...
In summary, it meant sending a representative for the royal family to live in the duchy.
Of course, that was the polite phrasing.
Reading further, the position came laden with absurdly unfavorable conditions.
- [The dispatched diplomat and their escorts must have personal power levels of 5th rank or below,]
- [They must remain in the embassy under 24-hour surveillance,]
- [Their personal safety cannot be guaranteed in the event of a declaration of war.]
In other words, it was no different from a hostage.
Moreover, it was extremely unfair, as the ducal family wasn't sending anyone—only the royal family had to.
Veins bulged on the king's forehead as he reviewed the terms.
"Th... this...!!"
Generally, the concept of ambassadors doesn't develop because diplomacy and hostages don't hold between superhumans.
With superhumans, magic and swords fly before words.
Besides, in a world where they purge even their own children if they rise up, how valuable are hostages?
Thus, the role of ambassador held little meaning in most territories or kingdoms.
Except for King Eschrick.
"That insolent pup... I'll tear him apart...!!"
Unlike typical superhumans, the king had one precious being he could use as a hostage.
His adorable youngest princess, Arabella Eschrick.
His flesh and blood, more precious than a thousand gold pieces, whom he wouldn't hurt even if he poked her in the eye.
He didn't care about the other princes or princesses, but he could never hand over this youngest daughter as a hostage.
"War...!"
The king muttered, blood rushing to his head.
There was no need to consider—it was war.
Whether it was the knight Duke or Duke Providence,
at 8th rank himself, he could surely win.
"Prepare the army!"
If anyone dared target his treasure, he would kill them, no matter who.
Even if it was one of the Twelve Warlords—he'd rather die fighting than hand over his daughter.
As if resonating with the king's rage, the palace began to shake.
The ministers, pale-faced, bowed their heads and obeyed the command.
"We shall obey your... "
But before they could finish, an uninvited guest entered the council chamber.
"Father! What's going on?!"
It was Arabella Eschrick, the king's sore spot and the trigger for this fury—the youngest princess.
Seeing his youngest daughter, the king instantly softened his rage, gazing at her with tender eyes as if nothing had happened.
"My dear, we're in a meeting right now. And you should call me 'Your Majesty' instead of Father."
The doting king gently scolded her, unable to help himself.
But this spirited princess ignored the other ministers staring at her and spoke.
"Father, I heard everything. The duchy needs a hostage, right?"
"Don't worry, my child. Your father will handle it all."
"But it's war. Won't a war mean many more people die?"
"My dear, you're a princess. Your life is far more precious than you think."
"No. I don't think so."
She looked straight at the king with unwavering eyes.
"This is exactly the moment I must take responsibility for all the privileges I've enjoyed and the weight of this name."
"Princess!"
The king bellowed, shaking the council chamber.
It wasn't enough to rattle the palace, but it was the anger of a parent scolding a child heading into danger.
"Never say such a thing again!"
"Father! I'm the proud daughter of King Eschrick!"
At her cry, the king fell silent, his face struck as if slapped.
"I'm proud of you, Father! But I'm not as great as you. I have many shortcomings. This incident is my chance. Please, let me achieve my dream."
With tears welling in her eyes, the youngest princess pleaded, leaving the king torn.
He was willing to give her anything she wanted.
But if it endangered her, was it right to allow it?
Yet after Arabella's persistent persuasion, the king ultimately respected her will.
'Who does she take after...'
Her personality mirrored his, but her righteousness came from her mother.
Seeing his late concubine's face in Arabella's, he couldn't break her stubbornness.
In the end, the king yielded to her resolve.
"Fine. I understand. Just wait ten years."
He vowed to retrieve her within ten years and wage war to annihilate that damned duchy.
*
With a graceful bow at her father's decision, Princess Arabella left the council chamber.
As she departed, the ministers vied to praise her nobility.
"As expected of the princess."
"Even the heavens aren't heartless. Why must someone like her face such trials?"
Of course, these superhumans, who devoured etiquette and morality, weren't sincere.
They could say it because her rank was conveniently low.
If it matched theirs, they'd call it hypocrisy and point fingers, but lip service to a non-threatening low-rank superhuman was fine.
Naturally, it doubled as flattery to the king.
"Blood is thicker than water, indeed."
Though indifferent to morality, they didn't mind being called virtuous—even if insincere.
While the ministers praised the princess profusely, she returned to her detached palace and sat at her vanity.
She replaced her resolute council expression with a sinister smile.
"What an idiot."
She cared nothing for the people's welfare or the nation.
Half-truthfully, though, she didn't want war.
For a con artist thrives in peace but risks their tongue on the executioner's block in wartime.
War awakens a nation's dormant self-correction.
Incompetent officers die naturally on the battlefield,
useless bureaucrats get purged,
and without it, the nation collapses on its own.
Thus, she loved peace endlessly.
The battlefield was far too harsh for her.
However, her idea of peace differed slightly from others'.
"Well, it's about time to switch anyway."
Her peace meant siding with the victor and enjoying comfort.
The loser's fate? None of her concern.
In that sense, lingering in a doomed nation was far from peaceful.
"King Eschrick's gotten tapped out~"
She defined herself as a parasite.
Not strong herself, she latched onto powerful superhumans, basking in their glory.
Most superhumans in this world were muscle-brained.
As long as you didn't threaten their side, they opened up easily.
Focused on killers, they ignored non-lethal charms.
She exploited that gap.
Sometimes lover, nanny, concubine, sister.
Freely changing face and body, she played the ideal they desired, sucking them dry in return.
Over long years, she extracted slowly to avoid detection, then moved on when their lifespan ended.
And now was that time.
"I wonder what the duchy's like."
Through cycling countless superhumans, she honed a unique instinct.
A sense for when nations fall or superhumans decline.
'The king can't beat the duchy.'
Though charm-clouded eyes rationalized it, even with other earls or marquises' aid, the royal family couldn't win.
Duke yanking the minister's tongue via crystal ball was the clincher.
'That knight. At least 7th rank. Maybe 8th.'
Unlike misconceptions, superhuman firepower loses meaning past 6th rank.
They could vaporize cities then,
but in 6th-rank duels, dispersing mana like that gets you killed by a focused strike.
It's not inability—it's impractical. City-busting is pure vanity.
Ironically, firepower rises with rank until 6th, then dips—forming a ∧ curve.
From 6th rank, range, precision, and variables matter.
A sniper piercing kingdom's end to end.
A sage with nationwide vision.
A mage appearing anywhere.
And Duke's feats transcended in variables, range, and precision.
Killing a distant, unseen foe with telekinesis via crystal ball?
Unheard-of mastery.
'Of course, the king's strong too.'
His awl-fist pierced shields and walls.
But bad matchup.
Same rank means matchups matter; higher crushes them.
The king needs melee range, but Duke sniping from afar would exhaust him before contact.
So the king falls to Duke.
And Duke isn't alone—Peter, other commanders aren't idle.
The kingdom's doom was sealed.
'I'm always on the winner's side.'
Conveniently, the duchy had a fitting identity.
Arabella White.
The duke's concubine—fate's joke, she'd thought.
'That brat's still alive?'
Replacing identities meant eliminating originals cleanly.
Her current "Arabella" was such a case.
Conveniently born a beastkin for painless substitution.
But a knight rescued the original, causing unease...
'Who knew it'd circle back.'
It became opportunity.
With Arabella already the duke's concubine, swapping was easy.
New identities are hard; swaps simple.
'Hehe...'
If Arabella too strong to swap now, wait—birth of her child, etc.
Options abound.
Eschrick's Arabella smacked her lips at the mirror.
"I wonder what the duke's like."
The reclusive duke evaded even royal intel on his face.
(Academy photo deemed disguise.)
The woman who'd donned countless shells, dooming superhumans—
Legendary villainess Isabella smiled, applying her favorite red lipstick.
'...Probably scheming some petty plot.'
And a knight who grasped that villainess's mind like clockwork existed.
'Different cause from canon, but she ends up in the duchy as envoy. Is this fate's flow?'
In canon, Isabella visited the duchy too.
Not for the factory raid, but as peace envoy on the 5th anniversary truce.
She led it to parasite off Rex.
The duchy's explosive growth threatened the kingdom.
Duke eyed flustered Rex at the head of the council, recalling the bat-like woman.
"Huh? Why send a real envoy?"
Rex hadn't sent the diplomatic document hoping for peace.
They provoked first, so he poked the king's reverse scale in retaliation.
War inevitable, but scratching the king first would sate him.
He stuffed it with unacceptable unequal terms.
Forcing war cries.
Even as Rex averted eyes, kingdom striking first aided future rule.
King: petty tyrant who raided factory then raged for war.
Rex: sage who offered hand despite raid for people's sake, forced to arms against unreasonable tyrant.
Post-conquest, he'd legitimize rule as savior sage from trash tyrant.
Of course, Rex, overwhelmed by ducal burdens, ignored such perks.
But lo and behold.
The princess volunteered as hostage, accepting the unequal treaty.
Rex and civil officials couldn't fathom her rational choice.
If she were as noble as Rex or Duke, it might make sense.
But suddenly now?
From that corrupt royal family?
Thus, the hyper-rational suspected ulterior motives over nobility.
And they were right.
"Whatever that princess schemes, we must prepare thoroughly."
Duke quietly observed their council.
He could spoil Isabella's abilities here.
Disguise, launder identity, charm superhumans, nibble scraps slowly.
Appears 2-3rd rank, actually 6th-rank peerless femme fatale.
Duke could recite her past.
But saw no need.
Expose her?
Unnecessary.
Rex hard-counters her utterly.
Any shell, charm, frame—
Rex's system nullifies.
Shell swap? System shows Isabella.
Charm? Warning pops, repelled.
Frame Ari? Rex views her logs 24/7.
This incident even reveals Ari's birth secret, leads to Rex's betrothal—blocking harms.
'Hardship strengthens soil after rain.'
Duke let appropriate trials be since their adventurer days.
No need to block harmless Isabella now.
'Unless she touches me.'
Otherwise, let Rex handle.
Plan set, Duke uncrossed arms and spoke.
"I haven't forgiven them. But if they apologize that profusely, we have no choice but to accept. We can't slap away a hand extended for a handshake."
Of course, Duke was quite pissed too.
Respected figure insulted, diplomatic affront—we wouldn't be calm.
His blood boiled enough to whirlwind the kingdom now.
But knowing Isabella would provide casus belli, he held back, phrasing thus.
Once pretext born, vent as final boss.
But councilors interpreted differently.
- They're apologizing; preemptively snubbing lowers our dignity.
- I'm angry too, but duty as knight demands restraint.
- Fulfill our duty. For the people.
2nd Company Commander Saga nodded.
"Can't trust barbarians, but we're civilized. At least until they act, can't reject the handshake."
Council concluded: welcome delegation grandly.
To show stature difference, maximally so.
The "You ain't got this at your crib" strat.
And days later.
"The delegation has arrived!"
The kingdom's delegation arrived.