Chapter 126
Chapter 126
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 126
Chapter Title: The Prodigy of Defeat
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* * *
Much about the Sorceress Council, a secret society within the Blue Magic Tower, is shrouded in mystery.
They are masters of intrigue and deceit, their true nature eluding even the Empire and the Red Magic Tower. Not even Lord Black, who knew all the Empire's secrets, nor Dale himself, had ever suspected a connection between House York and the Sorceress Council.
The Empire is not ruled by 'humans.' But that doesn't mean the beings who cannot be called human are all united under a single cause.
Vampires, succubi, and countless other inhuman races were merely locked in a struggle for dominance, a battleground simmering beneath the surface.
This was the true state of the world, a constant cycle of alliances and betrayals revolving around 'Shadow and Gold.'
In such a world, concepts like eternal enemies or lifelong allies were nothing more than pleasant-sounding illusions.
* * *
After concluding his meeting with House York, the Black Prince returned to the Lancaster duchy.
The blood of succubi flowed through the veins of the York women. Using the power and wisdom of that bloodline, House York had risen to become one of the Empire's great noble houses, establishing themselves as undeniable powers behind the throne.
The true nature of the inhuman beings who ruled the Empire. There was a reason they were called the 'Enchantresses of York.'
At the very least, this was a fact that Dale and Lord Black knew as 'insiders' of the Empire.
However, even Dale could not hide his surprise at the revelation that they were also among the silent rulers of the Blue Magic Tower.
After all, House York had always overtly displayed their allegiance to the Emperor's faction, as evidenced by their borrowing of the power of the Demon Sword and Holy Sword, prides of the Imperial family.
All as spies for the Blue Magic Tower, whose cornerstones were intrigue and deceit.
For that reason, they did not hesitate to borrow the strength of the Imperial family and the Red Magic Tower to achieve their goals, and the Holy Sword Master was no exception.
'The Holy Sword Master was a man who deserved to fall. The Empire itself no longer felt the need for him.'
Titania had never doubted that Dale and the Shadow Court would once again triumph over the Holy Sword Master.
The only thing she had miscalculated was how quickly it would happen.
Caught between his alliance with House Lancaster and the proposal from House York, Dale's mind was a tangled mess.
Even so, there was only one decision he could make.
* * *
A room in the Lancaster castle.
“Lord Mikhail.”
“Ah, Lord Dale. You’ve returned sooner than I expected.”
Mikhail Lancaster, seated at his desk, glanced up.
“Thankfully, it seems the war will come to a swift end,” Dale said.
“With the capture of the Holy Sword Master, the balance of power among the exceptional has crumbled, and House York has offered terms of surrender.”
“Oh?”
“They propose to accept your succession as heir, on the condition that they take the eldest son, Lord Richard, as an adopted son-in-law for House York.”
“How fortunate.”
Mikhail smiled, his expression unreadable.
“To think you would neutralize the threat of House York so easily. A feat truly befitting the name of the Black Prince. And I, along with House Lancaster, are prepared to honor our ‘alliance.’”
“I am grateful to hear you say so.”
“As I’ve said, I intend to fulfill my duty as the ‘Heir of Lancaster.’”
Mikhail smiled, savoring the title of heir that was finally within his grasp.
“Is that why you joined hands with the Red Magic Tower?”
Just then, Dale shot back without a moment's hesitation.
“To become the Archduke Lancaster’s heir, did you borrow their power to brainwash your brother and pin the blame on House York?”
“...”
Mikhail remained silent. It was a deeply ominous silence.
“I used to find life incredibly dull,” Mikhail finally said, breaking the silence.
“Talent with the sword, the finest bloodline... I was born with the world in my hands, simply treading a preordained path to success. Even my position as the second son, unable to formally inherit the archduchy, didn't matter. I was given so much that I had nothing left to desire.”
He had chosen a life of smooth sailing, following the tracks laid before him, assisting his older brother Richard, the next archduke.
“At least, until that day.”
“...”
“The day my sword, once called the greatest talent in the Empire, was defeated by the blade of the Black Prince.”
That duel at the fight club had changed Mikhail’s life.
“I finally realized I was a frog in a well. And I imagine the young heir of the Red Magic Tower was no exception.”
Mikhail smiled bitterly as he uttered Ray Yuriseu's name.
“And I realized that to face the world outside the well, I could not continue in such a pathetically complacent manner.”
“Was that the reason you joined forces with the Red Magic Tower?”
“It was.”
“Then you have finally obtained what you desired, Lord Mikhail.”
Mikhail nodded silently. And as he did, the hilt of the sword hanging at his hip shot forward.
A draw so fast it was nearly instantaneous. Mikhail’s sword, the hero’s beloved ‘Peacemaker,’ was pointed at Dale.
“Can my sword reach you now, my lord?”
“As you can see, it’s reaching me just fine.”
Dale replied as if it were someone else's problem.
“This world must seem so ridiculous to you, Lord Dale.”
“Not at all.”
Dale laughed as if the suggestion was absurd.
“The one who took the world for a joke wasn’t me, Lord Mikhail. It was you, from the very beginning.”
Mikhail remained silent, and Dale continued without pause.
“I have fulfilled my promise. Now it is time for the heir of House Lancaster to fulfill the obligations of our alliance.”
He was referring to borrowing the power of House Lancaster to contend with the northern Demon Lord's territory he ruled as Viscount Sachsen.
“The obligations of the alliance will be fulfilled.”
Mikhail Lancaster nodded grimly.
“Furthermore, the Red Magic Tower has also agreed to lend us their flames in accordance with the great cause of our ‘Grand Alliance Against Demons.’”
“How reassuring.”
Dale nodded, unsurprised.
“But before that, House York must pay the price for brainwashing my brother and turning him into a puppet.”
He nonchalantly framed his own ambition to seize the Lancaster succession as York's doing.
“...Are you saying you won't end the war?”
“No, we will accept House York’s offer of surrender.”
Mikhail smiled.
“One war has ended, and now, it is simply ‘Lancaster’s turn.’”
“You intend to declare a territorial war against House York in return?”
“You have performed your role admirably, Lord Dale. I swear to fulfill the duties of the Grand Alliance Against Demons as soon as matters with House York are settled.”
One war had ended, and another was about to begin. And the war to come was no longer Dale’s concern.
“Understood.”
Dale turned his back without hesitation. Without a shred of reluctance.
“As you said, Lord Mikhail, this is no longer my domain.”
* * *
That dawn.
“Follow me, my proud Knights of Saint Magdalena!”
Despite the late hour, a thunderous voice announcing a night raid echoed through the air.
It was a completely unexpected maneuver, catching not only Lancaster but even House York by surprise.
Acting solely on the information Dale had leaked about the ‘Holy Sword Master’s location,’ they had scraped together every remaining knightly force for a rescue mission. It was a small force, not even a hundred strong.
“...No way, they actually came?”
Dale, having anticipated the enemy's movements long before the raid, was nevertheless utterly astonished when they appeared.
To march so brazenly into the jaws of death prepared by him and the Shadow Court.
“Well, I’ll be damned.”
Watching the scene, Master Baro clicked his tongue.
“Heard that pig’s son was a special kind of moron, but this one’s a top-class idiot.”
Just then, as Master Baro and the shadow assassins readied their formation in the darkness, Dale spoke.
“Master Baro.”
“We’re ready to take their heads.”
“No, don’t take them.”
But Dale's command was entirely unexpected.
“Capture their leader, Phillip, and inflict just enough damage to make the rest of them disarm. Stop there.”
“Huh? You planning to get a ransom for him now?”
“There’s something better than ransom.”
Dale said no more.
He watched the ‘Scoundrel Phillip’ charging bravely toward a small city within the Lancaster duchy.
* * *
The situation was resolved in short order.
However, making the desperately struggling Phillip understand the situation and convincing him to surrender peacefully was another matter.
“Lord Phillip.”
Dale spoke to the kneeling prodigy of defeat.
“You, you bastard...! To think you’d use your cunning and cowardly tricks to lure me into a trap again...!”
“Ah, I’m overwhelmed by your praise. Thank you.”
Dale flicked his fingers casually.
*Swish!*
A shadow assassin’s sword descended upon a captured Knight of Saint Magdalena. They were barely a hundred men, with no Holy Sword Master or Aura Master-level warriors among them.
“H-Heeik!”
But that foolish act turned into an unexpected boon for Dale.
“Soon, just before the end of the ‘First War of the Roses,’ Lord Phillip will execute an ‘unbelievably brilliant and daring strategy’ to rescue the Holy Sword Master and return safely to York territory.”
Dale continued.
“Later, in the ‘Second War of the Roses’ between York and Lancaster, you will build a reputation that will echo throughout the Empire.”
For a moment, Phillip tilted his head, not understanding Dale’s words. Dale went on, unconcerned.
“And we will bind Phillip, throw him in where the Holy Sword Master is, and get out of the Lancaster duchy before dawn.”
“You mean to return to the Sachsen duchy?”
“We need to make it look that way from Lancaster’s perspective. But we are not going back yet.”
Dale replied to Master Baro’s question.
“From now on, we will fight for House York.”
“...The hell?”
Master Baro asked, dumbfounded.
“You handed victory to those Lancaster bastards, and now you’re going to side with the Yorks you just crushed with your own hands?”
“Mikhail Lancaster played me from the start. The very pretext for this fight was a fraud.”
It was never House York that had brainwashed and bewitched Richard, the eldest Lancaster son. It was the ambition of Mikhail Lancaster, who, after losing to Dale, sought to seize the position of heir for himself.
“Do you think I can just go back to my northern territory with my tail between my legs and sleep soundly after being stabbed in the back like this?”
“The one who’ll be sleeping soundly is the bastard who did the stabbing.”
Master Baro chuckled as if it were someone else's problem.
From the beginning, Dale had been nothing more than Mikhail's puppet. And the battle between the red-and-white and black-and-blue roses, between Lancaster and York, was not yet over.
Dale had no intention of being played on Mikhail's stage any longer.
But the ‘Black Prince,’ having already served as Lancaster’s standard-bearer, couldn't just flip sides like a bat and fight for House York. Officially, the ‘Black Prince’ would withdraw from the ensuing conflict. The one fighting on House York's side would not be Dale.
“From now on, don't call me the ‘Black Prince’ of Sachsen...”
It would be the role of ‘Phillip,’ the eldest son of a count’s house allied with York through an engagement to their second daughter, Catherine.
Looking at the captured, struggling Phillip before him, Dale continued impassively.
“Call me ‘Phillip,’ the Prodigy of Defeat, the scoundrel of a count's house.”