Chapter 72
Chapter 72
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 72
Chapter Title: A Dysfunctional Alliance
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The mighty do not act rashly. For they understand, more than anyone, the power and sheer weight their very presence holds.
But in the Empire after the Unification War, the ‘Holy Maiden Orelia’ had started a war of independence, overcome a four-to-one disadvantage in numbers, and annihilated a great Imperial army.
The establishment of the nascent Kingdom of Britannia.
This was a situation where the Empire could no longer afford to weigh its options and act leisurely. Thus, the Purifier units, led by ‘Lady Scarlet,’ a high elder of the Red Magic Tower and one of the Empire's famed executors of the zeitgeist, were deployed in force.
Furthermore, the ‘White Mages’ of the White Magic Tower joined them, led by Nikolai, an elder of the White Magic Tower and a cardinal of the Sistine Church, to determine the truth of the Holy Maiden’s claimed revelations.
Count Brandenburg, the Holy Sword Master, one of the Seven Swords of the Continent and a warrior beyond measure, also marched to war, leading his Order of Saint Magdalena. With him was his son and heir, the lecherous Phillip.
Finally, the ‘Black Prince’—who had carved a Geas of Absolute Obedience into Cardinal Nikolai’s heart and who had captured the count’s wastrel son, Phillip, in the Battle of Black and White, only releasing him after receiving a hefty ransom—joined the Imperial high command.
He led five hundred heavy infantrymen from the Black Armor Company, as well as the Night Raven Knights of House Sachsen.
The ducal prodigy, hailed as the Empire's greatest talent. The mercenary captain of the Black Armor Company, whose fame resounded endlessly across the continent.
And that very same ‘Black Prince,’ renowned for his boundless cruelty and infamy.
***
The wind carried the scent of salt. Gulls cried out. Sunlight shattered like gold dust along the undulating horizon.
Dover, a port city on the island of Britannia. The landing point for the great Imperial army, situated across the Strait of Calais from the continent.
In the fortress of that port city, the high command of the Imperial army gathered, their last soldier having finally landed on the island of Britannia.
“Ah, Lord Phillip.”
“…”
“And Cardinal Nikolai.”
“...!”
Dale, the eldest son of House Sachsen, was also there. With him was Sephia, his adjutant and a 6th-circle elf mage. He stood before the mighty figures of the Empire he so despised.
“You- you- who the hell do you think you are, daring to show your face here...!”
Seeing him, Phillip, the count's wastrel son standing beside the Holy Sword Master, raised his voice.
The loser of the historic battle whispered about by gossips... the ‘Battle of Black and White.’ A living sacrifice for Dale's renown.
He recalled the crushing defeat on the battlefield that day. He recalled the days spent in unforgettable shame and humiliation after being captured by House Sachsen.
“Huhu, the world is so unfair, isn't it?”
It was then that Lady Scarlet, glancing at Phillip, chuckled with amusement.
For a moment, the lecherous Phillip’s gaze was drawn openly to her cleavage. As if to show it off even more, Lady Scarlet loosened her attire and continued speaking.
“In a single war, there is a sacrificial lamb who experiences unforgettable shame and a crushing defeat...”
Winking with an enchanting smile.
“And then there is a wonderful man whose victory and deeds earn him renown throughout the entire Empire.”
Her words were not for Phillip, but entirely for Dale of Sachsen.
“Th-that battle was won only through cunning and cowardly tricks...!”
Just as Phillip, refusing to accept Scarlet's words, was about to raise his voice.
“You worthless loser.”
The Holy Sword Master's roar, devoid of any emotion, shot back.
“What gives a talentless hack like you the right to run your mouth at the ‘Black Prince’ of Sachsen?”
“F-Father...!”
“Please forgive my son's insolence.”
The Holy Sword Master bowed his head impassively toward Dale.
“Forgive him?”
At those words, Dale let out a cold sneer.
“On the contrary, I feel an incomparable sense of gratitude toward Lord Phillip.”
He recalled the victory that had sent his stock soaring.
“Even the name I hold, the ‘Black Prince’... is an honor I never could have obtained without Lord Phillip's valiant struggle.”
Phillip's foolishness in calling for a fight to the last man in the Battle of Black and White. That very foolishness had allowed Dale to be reborn as a paragon of unparalleled malice and cruelty. As the ‘Black Prince,’ a master of military strategy who showed his enemies not a shred of mercy.
“D-don't be ridiculous...! That battle was not my defeat!”
Phillip raised his voice, refusing to be outdone.
“I-I was never defeated by you!”
As if it was in no way his responsibility.
“It was all because those incompetent underlings disobeyed my orders...”
He was shifting the blame to the knights who had been annihilated to the last man, their only crime having an incompetent commander.
“Indeed, the knights there were hardly a match for ‘Lord Phillip's caliber.’”
“That's right! Exactly!”
Dale’s words made Phillip nod vigorously and raise his voice.
“Those mere knights! How dare they defy me, not knowing their place...!”
Phillip shouted, blaming the knights of Saint Magdalena who had been massacred thanks to their incompetent commander. It was a truly indescribable disgrace.
“That mouth.”
Unable to bear his wastrel son's disgraceful behavior any longer, the Holy Sword Master finally broke his silence. Quietly, but desperately suppressing a rage that boiled like magma.
“Shut it now.”
The incompetent wastrel, so desperate to agree with Dale that he didn't even realize he was being mocked. The Holy Sword Master pushed aside the urge to beat his son on the spot and continued.
“If you spout any more nonsense about my knights, I will throw you into the sea myself.”
“E-Eek!”
Count Brandenburg, at least, was no fool. He remembered ‘his knights,’ who had formed mountains of corpses during that great defeat.
The eldest son of House Sachsen was a monster that a dullard like Phillip could never hope to match, even if he dedicated his entire life to it.
The humiliation and self-loathing squeezed his heart all the more. To see his incompetent, worthless son flapping his gums without a clue before a monster for whom the word "genius" was insufficient.
How could such an incompetent, worthless child have been born of his blood?
That's right. It must be because the blood of the ‘talentless’ was mixed in. That was why he needed the Divine Sword's daughter, Charlotte Orharhart. He believed that by mixing his blood with the Divine Sword's blood she carried, he could birth the ‘greatest swordsman.’
To birth the ultimate vessel truly worthy of the Holy Sword.
But he had failed. Because the Black Prince before him, and by extension Duke Sachsen, had beaten him to it.
Furthermore, when he received intelligence that the Divine Sword's daughter was training as a knight under House Sachsen, that she had become a knight serving its eldest son and was displaying her swordsmanship daily, the Holy Sword Master's rage was indescribable.
But Count Brandenburg no longer cared about that.
Because the ‘ultimate vessel,’ one who might even surpass the Divine Sword’s daughter, had appeared.
Right here, on the island of Britannia.
‘The Holy Maiden Orelia…’
When he heard the full story of what had happened on the island of Britannia, the Holy Sword Master did not hesitate.
A knightess said to be the advent of the goddess. The standard-bearer of national salvation who had reached the state of an Avatar, said to be the ultimate form of combat for a knight.
‘I will impregnate that wench with my seed and create the ultimate vessel worthy of the Holy Sword.’
Every time he heard tales of her sword, Count Brandenburg could not control his desire.
A man's twisted and distorted desire for eugenics. A desire to plant his seed in the Holy Maiden's womb. And the Holy Sword Master was by no means the only one with such dark intentions.
Though their aims differed, this was the true nature of the ‘great cause’ for which they had gathered under the pretext of serving the Empire.
A nominal unity, a mere facade hiding each person's true purpose. This ‘facade of unity’ was, in the end, the nation called the Empire itself, and it was for this very reason that the Empire could not rashly deploy the ‘exceptional powerhouses’ residing in the imperial capital.
‘What a dysfunctional mess.’
Dale was surely no exception.
“...Then let us begin the strategy meeting.”
Dale spoke softly, collecting his thoughts. Or rather, he tried to.
“Wh-what right do you have to give orders to the proud Imperial army!”
Phillip shouted at Dale, who was trying to take charge of the situation. His inferiority complex was so desperate it was ugly.
“Ah, then I shall quietly hold my tongue.”
Dale shrugged and fell silent.
“Huhu, Phillip dear.”
Seeing this, Lady Scarlet spoke in a soft voice, filled with a sensuality and allure that would make the lecherous Phillip lose his senses.
“L-Lady Scarlet?”
Phillip looked at her with a hint of expectation, drawn in by Scarlet's meaningful smile.
“Would you please shut that disgusting mouth of yours? It stinks of pig.”
Immediately after, a frigid reply devoid of any emotion came back.
“An incompetent, degenerate boar who can't even hold a candle to Lord Dale.”
“...!”
“Soaked in your inferiority complex, oinking like a pig without a clue of your place.”
A cold expression, as if looking at an insect. A frigidity incomparable to the attitude she had shown before Dale. But the malice on her face was fleeting.
“Huhu, compared to that, Lord Dale is so radiant!”
Scarlet turned her head toward Dale.
“Aaah, I just can't wait to see Lord Dale in action.”
Sephia's expression froze at Scarlet's blatant coquetry, unable to contain her ecstasy. Dale paid her no mind and simply turned his head away.
“Y-y-you...!”
There stood the lecherous Phillip, trembling with rage from the humiliation pouring in from all sides.
‘That bastard... he’s going to cause some real trouble.’
***
Two powers coexisted on the island of Britannia.
The Imperial territory, ruling the island of Britannia under the Governor of Burgundy. And the new territory of the ‘nascent Kingdom of Britannia,’ reclaimed by the Britannian independence army under the command of the Holy Maiden Orelia.
It was not difficult to predict the Holy Maiden's objective as she began her advance leading the independence army.
The heart of the old Kingdom of Britannia, which they had not yet captured. The city where heirs to the Britannian royal family had held their coronations for generations, and which had served as the kingdom's capital.
It was Reims.
Therefore, the Imperial army that had made an additional landing on the island of Britannia also began to move, matching the independence army's movements. To achieve a swift conclusion, and with their own purposes and interests intersecting.
With dark desires stirring on all sides, the curtain finally began to rise on the war.