Chapter 8
Chapter 8
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: A Treacherous Subject Has His Uses
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Even if he tried to think it might be another territory named 'Benofis' that wasn't his own, when combined with the keyword 'treacherous subject,' it ultimately pointed to no one but himself.
He tried to consider the possibility that someone who succeeded him had committed even greater atrocities and inherited that name, but he knew that at the time of his death, the Benofis territory was already doomed to be plundered and destroyed, destined to become forbidden land.
In the end, he was forced to reconfirm that the 'Nameless Treacherous Subject' who caused the division in the past, which led to the 'Great War,' was none other than Beonald von Neumel himself. While the label of 'treacherous subject' was accurate, it infuriated him that the bastards of the religious order had exaggerated his deeds so excessively and passed them down to posterity.
'...Damn those religious order bastards. No matter how much they disliked me, was this any way to treat me? How much money did I donate, for heaven's sake? Then again, those bastards were always like that. Utterly inflexible! They just greedily gobbled up whatever was given! Nothing ever came back!'
Duke Beonald von Neumel had a very poor relationship with the 'religious order' during his lifetime.
For one, the empire's medical system in the past was entirely monopolized by the 'religious order,' which was centered on 'Divine Power.' Beonald's use of alchemy and medicine to alleviate the Emperor's illness had encroached upon the domain the order held within the Imperial family. Various subsequent incidents led to disputes, putting him at odds with the order.
'Still, I tried to improve relations... Hmph! Petty bastards! I even asked them to send a priestess, and they refused! Damn it! I won't let this stand!'
"Beonald? Are you feeling unwell?"
"Ah, no. I'm fine, Mother! I was just lost in thought, trying to organize my mind. Trying to learn too much at once... Hahaha."
"Is that so? Perhaps my enthusiasm was a bit much. No matter how quickly your body has grown, you are still only ten... Anyway, let's go have some tea."
Feeling his kind mother's care and love, Beonald followed her for tea time.
The tea leaves weren't particularly high quality, but it was nice to be able to relax peacefully.
Even in his previous life, he had indulged in all sorts of luxuries and extravagance, but it had been far too long since he last shared a cup of tea so comfortably.
Leading a massive family as its head came with such immense responsibility that he couldn't even enjoy a simple tea time in his own mansion without worry.
'Is this the same principle as "the market is a side dish"? These are just ordinary tea leaves, but with a change in atmosphere and situation, the flavor seems to transform.'
'My son truly has the blood of the Callermain family flowing through him. How could he be so elegant?'
Perhaps because the tea tasted unexpectedly good, Beonald momentarily forgot he was a ten-year-old boy and savored it. The noble bearing and posture of a high noble flowed from him unfiltered, startling his mother, but she simply delighted in it, attributing it to his bloodline.
Meanwhile, the story his mother had told him earlier and the thoughts about the religious order were still swirling chaotically in Beonald's mind, distracting him.
After all, he didn't think anything special would happen over a simple cup of tea.
Rather than dwell on that, he needed to calm his confused mind.
'The religious order... I don't know what it's like now, 500 years later, but they've likely grown quite powerful. Five hundred years ago, they couldn't even look me in the eye, but that was only because my territory and the power of the other nobles I led were overwhelming.'
Not only did he dominate the political scene, but Duke Beonald von Neumel's power was truly formidable.
To maintain long-term rule, overwhelming military force was necessary to surpass other noble factions. On top of that, since he held the Emperor, he could command even the Imperial Knight Order and the royal guard, leaving no one who dared oppose Beonald's army.
'...Anyway, it's quite a headache now... Hmm? Why is Mother looking at me like that? Did I do something strange... Could it be? Did she notice something from the way I drink tea?'
'He's such a good child, which makes it all the more heartbreaking.'
While Beonald had been so lost in thought that he only now realized she was watching him, his mother felt increasingly sorrowful the more she saw his outstanding qualities—his intelligence, bearing, humility, diligent focus on his efforts, and more. The fact that he was born the son of a rural upstart noble pained her.
Though he was of the bloodline of the prestigious Count's family in this region, his mother bore scars, and his father was an upstart noble with no roots. A sudden fear and terror arose in her that this might hinder the path of this child's talent and brilliant future. She began to feel sorry for her adorable son.
'Huh? Tears? What's wrong? I don't think I did anything wrong...'
"My poor child..."
"Mother, what's the matter? Did I do something wrong?"
"No, you did nothing wrong. It's just... I'm sorry. When I think of the hardships you'll face in the future..."
"Mother, please don't be sad. Whether it's His Highness the Crown Prince or the child of a high noble, every human being is born with hardships. And we always strive to overcome those hardships with hope. That is the real meaning of life. Moreover, I have such wonderful parents. That alone is more than enough for me."
He tried to console her as clumsily as possible, but Beonald thought it was inevitable that eloquence unbefitting a ten-year-old would flow from his mouth.
Still, he couldn't just leave his mother heartbroken, so after comforting her, he stayed in her embrace until her tears stopped.
The territory of the 'Geral Family'.
The Geral Family. A family that had long served as knights under Count Callermain but had yet to receive a title, operating a small territory as 'Low Knights'.
Still, perhaps due to their long devotion to the Count's family, their territory was slightly larger than the completely rural Dustycloak Barony, but it was essentially six of one, half a dozen of the other. It was only marginally superior, boasting a single inn that served as a post station and a few shops in the village.
And currently, the master of this territory, Sir Kezir Geral—a sturdy man with a fierce countenance—pondered the words of the two bandits prostrated before him before speaking.
"...So, you're saying some wandering knight who used 'Aura' appeared, killed all of you, and took the kidnapped villagers back? And that Paul and Shante have also disappeared from the territory?"
"Y-yes! How could we dare lie to you, Sir Geral? We've been wronged, truly."
"Damn it, who the hell interfered? Damn it! Damn it!"
Thud!
Sir Kezir Geral frowned and, as if unable to contain his anger, slammed his fist on the armrest of his chair.
He was the mastermind behind sending bandits to the Dustycloak family's territory and recruiting Paul and Shante.
His family, which had served for generations, remained mere 'Low Knights,' while that upstart noble went from a mere mercenary to a baron in an instant, which rankled him.
This sentiment wasn't unique to Sir Geral; other retainers under Count Callermain felt the same. They had all instructed Sir Geral to handle it and devised a plan that couldn't possibly fail, yet unexpected interference had caused it to fall apart.
"...To think we can't even handle one rural upstart noble! If this continues, my position... will become difficult!"
'Snatching that backwater territory would just make managing the front line a hassle. However, I can't stand the sight of a rootless mercenary acting like a noble... So, Sir Geral, handle it yourself. I'll give you that land... Just make sure it's done cleanly. Otherwise, your family will remain low knights, and you'll be the last of your line.'
'Damn it! If this happens, my standing... Ugh!'
The Geral family was currently in a situation where the children of the family head, despite diligently training in the mana breathing technique passed down through the family, were utterly unable to accumulate mana within their bodies.
Of course, the mana breathing technique itself was crude, which could be part of the problem. But until now, they had somehow managed to awaken mana and use Aura, maintaining their position as 'Low Knights' in the Count's service.
However, with the heirs completely unable to awaken mana, they were anxiously on edge, fearing their knightly qualifications might be revoked.
'Damn it! That's why I planned to eliminate that damned Dustycloak Baron and take... have our Geral family take that position!'
Originally, after the war in which the Dustycloak Baron's founder earned his title ended, the Geral family, which had long served Count Callermain, was supposed to receive a title.
But then, that damned mercenary happened to save the Count from a dangerous enemy attack, and in gratitude, the Count personally bestowed the family name 'Dustycloak' and appointed him as a baron.
"Anyway, I must... obtain a title before I die. Only then will our family survive!"
Even if they held territory, the difference between becoming a titled family and remaining a knightly family was like heaven and earth.
Becoming a titled family meant receiving recognition from the Count Callermain family, which dominated the region, and being able to continue as a family. A knight's position, however, was uncertain, dependent solely on whether one could use 'Aura' or not.
Thus, Sir Kezir Geral devised and executed a plan to eliminate the Dustycloak Barony to ensure his family's survival, only to fail spectacularly.
"Damn it, where did that knight come from? Did that scar-faced Baroness hire him? No, impossible. At best, she could afford a few soldiers. Hiring a knight would cause the Count's other wives and children to stir up trouble."
True to his status as the Count who ruled this entire vicinity, including political marriages and personal concubines, he had a total of nine wives.
Even if you subtracted the five who were concubines, if the remaining four wives learned he was paying attention to a daughter they had already discarded as useless, they would pester him relentlessly and inform their own families, giving the Count a headache.
"Anyway, what do I do now? Damn it! Even if I try the same thing again... without an insider, it's impossible!"
This plan was only possible with the cooperation of Paul and Shante, retainers of Leon Dustycloak. With them gone, repeating the same scheme was now out of the question.
Given the situation, the only options left were direct use of force or seeking help from a higher-ranking noble.
'Should I just use force? Dealing with an upstart noble who doesn't even know mana breathing techniques and can't use Aura shouldn't be too hard... But that would require setting up the board again...'
Still, as they were all subordinates under Count Callermain, he couldn't recklessly start a fight. Sir Kezir Geral pondered other schemes.
With little time left, he tried to quickly think of a solution, but the actions he could take alone were limited, and moving directly carried too much risk.
'But now that the original plan has gone awry, I must take that risk. If this fails, our family is... finished. Without producing a knight, we'll return to being commoners, farming or living as mercenaries using our combat skills.'
Of course, they had some wealth accumulated over generations, which could serve as capital for other businesses or starting a merchant company, but Sir Geral possessed no such knowledge.
All that was left was mercenary work, and on some chaotic battlefield on the war-torn continent, he would likely die a lonely death.
'...Still, there's no need to take such a reckless gamble alone. It's better to borrow strength, even if it requires some effort and cost.'
Sir Geral immediately pulled a blank letter from a drawer and began writing something.
After finishing, he sealed it with wax and handed it to a retainer waiting beside him.
"...Andel, take this letter directly to the Delmain Viscountcy and deliver it."
The Delmain Viscountcy.
One of the two pillars under Count Callermain, it was also the family home of the Count's third wife. Its master, Viscount Delmain, was a central figure of the 'Delmain faction' and the one who employed Sir Geral as a retainer.
In other words, Sir Geral was now asking his master for help to break through this tangled situation.
"But is that wise, sir? The Viscount's opinion of you may fall."
"It's better than losing the family by pointlessly hoarding usable resources. Even if financial costs are incurred as bribes, the family comes first now."
"Understood, Sir Geral."
Sir Geral judged it better to be labeled somewhat incompetent than to let his family vanish. His retainer, Andel, immediately left the mansion and headed for the Delmain Viscountcy.
Two days later, Andel arrived at Viscount Delmain's castle.
Though somewhat small, the fact that a castle surrounded by walls was built on the territory showed how important the Delmain Viscount's land was, and the massive mansion within it proved the Viscount's status.