Chapter 74
Chapter 74
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 74
Chapter Title: The Commander's Gambit
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* * *
Around that time.
A messenger arrived from the Britannian independence army, which had entered Imperial territory, to negotiate Phillip's release. And the 'ransom' they proposed for Phillip was by no means a vast fortune.
Food and weapons. War supplies to continue their campaign.
“Oh, what a shame, Count.”
Lady Scarlet remarked with a sneer upon hearing the news. The ransom the Britannian independence army proposed for Phillip.
War supplies.
Acceding to their demands was tantamount to admitting defeat in the war. It would be giving the enemy, whose offensive was gradually losing steam, the resources to prolong the fight.
However, sacrificing the family's black sheep, Phillip, would be the same as ending the proud line of House Brandenburg right then and there.
Moreover, even if he managed to get his hands on the 'Holy Maiden', there was no guarantee that 'his seed' planted in her would properly function. That was precisely why Phillip, a scoundrel without a shred of talent, was still alive. It wasn't because of some lingering affection between father and son.
On the other hand, if he were to save the family line by trading war supplies for Phillip… the Holy Sword Master would have to bear the full responsibility for losing the war. The entire Empire would point their fingers at him.
It was the worst kind of dilemma.
“……”
The Holy Sword Master bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. It was then.
“—We will pay the ransom and get Lord Phillip back.”
Dale spoke. And for a moment, the Holy Sword Master doubted his own ears at the sudden declaration.
“What did you say?”
“It seems you're weighing the continuation of your house against the responsibility for defeat.”
Dale said, as if he could see right through the Holy Sword Master. He had hit the nail on the head.
“However, there is a way to save Lord Phillip and not lose this war.”
“What, what did you say…?”
The genius for military strategy Dale had previously shown was something even the Holy Sword Master could not doubt.
“Tell me at once.”
The Holy Sword Master demanded.
“Ah, I’m afraid I cannot.”
But Dale let out a cold sneer.
“Not after you shoved me into a corner to monopolize all the glory for yourself.”
“…!”
“Don’t you think that’s rather shameless?”
The Holy Sword Master’s expression froze.
“…State your terms.”
But this was no time to be picky. Even if he was dealing with a mere twelve-year-old boy, there was nothing even the great Holy Sword Master could do in the face of the 'Black Prince's' talent.
“Promise me two things.”
“What do you want me to promise?”
“First, that you will obey my commands absolutely in all future battles and operations.”
In other words, to officially appoint Dale as the supreme commander of this battle.
“Second, that the treatment of any prisoners captured in this battle will be left entirely to my discretion.”
“Ha!”
The Holy Sword Master burst out laughing, as if in disbelief. For a mere brat to spew such reckless nonsense in front of a world-renowned war hero.
“How dare a brat like you not know your place…!”
There was a limit to such insolence. No matter how much of a 'military genius' the eldest son of House Sachsen was, he could not accept such an outrageous humiliation.
“Aren’t you afraid?”
Dale asked, unperturbed.
“Of a future where your family’s bloodline vanishes into history, and you alone bear the burden of a lost war.”
He wore an expression that seemed to peer right into the Holy Sword Master’s heart.
“Nobles are a truly cunning and despicable lot.”
“……”
“Even those who now hail you as the Empire’s great war hero need only the slightest pretext to turn their praise into ridicule.”
It was the truth.
“But you needn't worry.”
“What is there not to worry about?”
“If you accept my proposal, I am prepared to bear a fitting ‘price’ myself.”
A price.
“Should you accept my proposal and this war still end in defeat.”
Even the Holy Sword Master could not laugh off the words that followed.
“I will stake my heart.”
His heart. A chilling silence fell for a moment.
“Ah, that’s not all.”
“…!”
“Along with my heart, the full responsibility for any defeat in this battle will be ‘mine alone’.”
He, not the Holy Sword Master, would take responsibility for the defeat. A wager made with his heart and his honor on the line. Even Lady Scarlet could not smile at Dale's words.
“……”
For the first time, her smile vanished in front of Dale.
“Coincidentally, the elders of the White Magic Tower are here.”
“Don’t tell me…”
It was exactly what he thought. The contract magic the White Magic Tower was famous for, Geas, the Pledge of Binding.
“What do you say?”
If he could not lead them to victory, Dale of Sachsen would bear the responsibility for defeat and offer up 'his own heart'.
“Why go to such lengths?”
“Because I can win.”
He was certain, without a hint of hesitation.
“And what do you gain from this?”
“I will monopolize the glory of victory.”
Dale answered.
“Not as Count Brandenburg’s victory, but solely as the ‘Black Prince’s victory’.”
“……”
Half the truth.
“But whether we win or lose, you stand to gain something, Count.”
Dale continued.
“If we win, you get Lord Phillip back safely and are freed from the responsibility of defeat.”
And if they lost, nothing would change for him. He would still get his eldest son back safely, and it would be Dale who took the 'blame for the loss'. An unbelievable amount of nerve.
“Can you really win?”
They had already lost half their forces because of Phillip. Even if the Empire possessed 'extraordinary powerhouses' like the Holy Sword Master or Lady Scarlet.
The enemy was no exception when it came to possessing such extraordinary powerhouses.
The Holy Maiden Orelia. And the powerful figures of the old Kingdom of Britannia who followed her. It was these very individuals who refused to remain silent in the face of the Empire's tyranny and joined the independence army.
The Archbishop of the Britannian Isles and a 7th-Circle high elder of the White Magic Tower, ‘Thomas Becket’, was one of them.
In such a situation, if they returned Phillip and provided a large quantity of war supplies, not even the great Holy Sword Master could guarantee victory.
“Do you really… think you can win in this situation?”
“It’s not an impossible fight.”
In that very situation, Dale had wagered 'his own heart' and the full responsibility for defeat as an offering for a Geas, confident of a victory that was beyond doubt.
The one who would later become the Empire's greatest threat. That very person was now staking his own heart.
And he was doing so with absolute confidence in a near-impossible victory.
As Dale had said, it was a deal where he stood to gain something whether they won or lost.
“I accept your proposal.”
For Count Brandenburg, it was an offer with no reason to refuse.
It was just that if Dale truly did achieve this near-impossible victory—in other words, if the 'Black Prince' were to monopolize all the glory…
He deliberately turned a blind eye to the repercussions such an act would bring.
* * *
Immediately after.
To retrieve the captured black sheep of the count's family, Phillip, and pay his ransom, the Imperial army's 'new supreme commander' headed to the negotiating table proposed by the independence army.
Into the heart of the enemy, where the standard-bearer of salvation, the Holy Maiden Orelia, awaited.
* * *
“Lord Dale of Sachsen.”
She was a noble and graceful female knight.
Her immaculate blonde hair fluttered over pure white armor. A sword in a scabbard embroidered with gold thread was fastened at an angle to her sword belt.
She was so beautiful and elegant that it was impossible to believe she was the daughter of a serf; even the daughters of noble houses lacked the words to describe her dignity and grace. A princess of a nation? An imperial princess? No, neither.
Only one title could describe her.
“The Holy Maiden (La Pucelle)…”
Dale murmured softly. But his awe at her appearance, like a walk through a dream, was brief.
Quickly cooling his head, Dale bowed.
“It is an honor to meet you, Holy Maiden Orelia.”
“Someone from the Empire calling me ‘Holy Maiden’.”
The Holy Maiden Orelia replied, as if surprised.
“How unexpected.”
“This war is to prove your claims, after all.”
Dale answered coldly.
“Until the side that sheds the last drop of blood is decided, there is no reason to deny that claim.”
Thus placing the responsibility for all the blood being shed on this island squarely on her.
“……”
For a moment, the Holy Maiden Orelia remained silent.
“Are you prepared to meet our demands?”
“Do you intend to march all the way to Rheims?”
Dale countered with a question of his own.
“Unfortunately, I cannot answer your question, my lord.”
“You’ll retake Rheims, and there you will crown Charles VII as king…”
Dale continued.
“What do you plan to do after that?”
He unilaterally seized control of the conversation.
“That depends entirely on His Majesty the King’s will.”
Orelia answered.
“I am merely a servant carrying out the revelations of the Sister Goddesses Sistina.”
“Since you say you've received a divine revelation, there's something I'd like to ask.”
“Please, speak.”
Dale tilted his head as if he couldn't understand.
“Why would the omnipotent goddesses in the heavens care so much about a squabble between mere mortal nations?”
“……”
“The Sister Goddesses… they remained silent even when the nation of goddesses fell to ruin.”
After tilting his head, he continued nonchalantly.
“Is there any reason to treat the Kingdom of Britannia as special?”
Orelia’s expression turned to ice.
“The Empire, too, is just one of the countless nations that rise and fall, is it not?”
But Dale was not just blaspheming Orelia’s faith. It was a dangerous statement that denied the sanctity of Orelia's faith, the Empire's faith, the faiths of both powers.
“After you complete the coronation of Charles VII according to the goddesses’ will, whose orders do you intend to follow?”
Dale continued calmly.
“Will you revere the commands of King Charles VII, the king of the new Kingdom of Britannia, as if they were ‘divine revelations’?”
“…It is not my role to think.”
She seemed to profess that, as the sword of the goddesses and the standard-bearer of salvation, her virtue lay solely in execution.
“No, you must think, Lady Orelia.”
“That is enough small talk.”
Orelia cut Dale off coldly. This was, after all, a negotiation to pay the ransom for 'Lord Phillip'. She could not allow herself to be drawn into her opponent’s game.
“Oh, the ransom is ready, of course.”
Dale smiled as if he had expected this.
“That’s just a trivial matter now.”
“What do you mean, trivial?”
To Orelia’s question, Dale answered.
“The capital of the old Kingdom of Britannia, where the legitimate royal line has held coronations for generations…”
Rheims. The ultimate goal of the Britannian independence army. Voicing the name of that very city, Dale smiled.
“I intend to offer that very city, Rheims, to you, Holy Maiden Orelia.”
“……!”
Leaving behind the 'Geas' carved upon his heart, from which he could never be free of the responsibility of defeat.