Gerard Millers' Tribulations (5)
As expected, Gerard couldn't immediately refuse Calix's offer.
It was proof that his resolve was wavering.
'He'll crumble soon enough.'
Sure enough, a spark of life began to flicker in the hollow eyes that had once stared blankly in resignation.
After a long deliberation, he finally spoke.
"Simply helping me escape the territory won't be enough."
"Heh, I didn't expect to get something for nothing either. I'll provide you with solid backing—strong enough that no one will dare touch you."
"Do you mean for me to serve under you, young master?"
Calix shook his head.
"You're already a stain on one of the kingdom's most powerful figures. Someone like me is far from sufficient."
"One of the kingdom's most powerful... That can't mean Viscount Servio. Who exactly are you referring to...?"
Gerard trailed off, then realized the answer and let out a groan.
"Ugh... Marquis Antonio?"
"You're a criminal. A tax evader, no less—the kind the royals despise most. And you've even paid tribute to Marquis Antonio, His Majesty's political rival. If you run now, he'll think: What if he sides with the royals? As you know, those in power don't leave such uncertainties hanging."
Despite the grim, despairing words, life sparked brighter in Gerard's eyes.
He had grasped the hidden implication in Calix's statement.
"You're saying I need backing far stronger than yours. And that you can provide it."
"Quick on the uptake, as expected. Of course, there'll be a price. Sign this first, and I'll tell you how."
Calix drafted a single sheet of paper right there on the spot.
It was a kind of receipt stating that Szczecin County had fully repaid all loans from the Millers Merchant Guild.
Paid via anonymous royal bonds, no less.
Gerard stared blankly at the document Calix held out.
His hesitation didn't last long.
No matter how much of the slush fund he used to flee, his odds of success were less than fifty percent.
If the backing Calix mentioned was real, there was no need to even think twice.
Gerard burst into laughter.
"Kuk! You're terrifyingly brilliant. You've fooled the world without a hitch all this time."
He cast aside his doubts.
The boy before him was no one he could judge.
Even a rough estimate put him as a genius among geniuses, deceiving the world since the age of five.
Gerard, who had spent his life latching onto the strong, sensed it instinctively.
This is someone I must never make an enemy of.
An ordinary man might have missed the opportunity, cursing the one who had cornered him like this.
But Gerard would ally even with his parents' killer if it meant survival—or guaranteed profit.
He signed the document in an instant and asked,
"What do I do now?"
"Head to the capital. And... then..."
Calix's whisper continued for a very long time.
After Gerard departed, Krout asked,
"Did you anticipate this and prepare countermeasures in advance?"
"Haha, what am I, some Zhuge Liang? Of course not."
"Zhuge...? What's that? An insult?"
"Tsk! Just get the gist of it..."
"Yes, my lord."
In truth, the biggest headache after deciding to steal the slush fund had been the cleanup.
Of course, avoiding detection entirely would be ideal, but he'd learned the hard way from dealing with Sasquatch that things rarely went according to plan.
Moreover, few families could secretly deploy a substantial knight force to the Golda Plateau.
With the assassination attempt already painting them in a bad light, Szczecin territory was practically suspect number one.
But as the saying goes, bloodlines aren't guilty—without hard evidence, even strong suspicions meant nothing against a formidable foe.
Against a weak one, you could beat them half to death and force a confession.
"They could just use it as an excuse to swallow our territory whole."
"Ugh, it's frustrating to be the weak ones in times like this. If Count Collin were still alive, they wouldn't dare..."
"The problem is that Kosalin Viscountcy outmatches us militarily, and as Marquis Antonio's vassal, they have powerful backing too."
If Kosalin Viscountcy declared war without regard for prying eyes, Calix would have no choice but to flee that very night.
To survive, he needed strong backing of his own.
From that point, Calix had scoured his memories diligently.
This was five years before the game's start, so he didn't know the history in fine detail.
But he could roughly infer events from future outcomes.
Hmm, Kosalin is a viscountcy, not a county... And that bastard Antonio is a marquis, not a duke yet.
Dukedoms were typically reserved for those with royal blood. Raw power alone wouldn't suffice.
That means he's somehow tied to the royals... How does Antonio, the noble faction leader, connect with the royal family? It's like Romeo and Juliet getting married with both families' blessings. Does that even make sense?
With grudges against both noble factions, Calix's first thought for backing was the royal family.
He'd pondered ways to make contact and maximize his value.
But realizing Antonio would rise to duke in the future sent chills down his spine.
Does that mean Marquis Antonio seizes all power in the kingdom? Is fleeing the only option?
No.
If so, the future "Black Prince" couldn't have risen like a comet.
Romeo and Juliet? Marriage?!
Calix realized it then.
Some event would bind the royals and Marquis Antonio, spawning an opposing faction—with the Black Prince at its center.
And if his guess was right, this was a time when Prince Gail was historically at his most "undervalued."
Thirsty for talent, he'd eagerly drink seawater if offered.
He couldn't explain the full reasoning to Krout.
Fortunately, since the Golda Plateau expedition, Krout no longer pressed on dubious points.
"Anyway, the conclusion was we needed backing too. And the most promising candidate was His Highness Prince Gail, the king's eldest son."
"So the info you gave that rat Gerard was what we'd prepared for ourselves."
"Exactly."
"But is that okay? Aren't we handing over our own lifeline?"
"What? Haha! Backing isn't disposable... Think of it as earning 60,000 gold by sharing a good item. That's a steal."
Krout tilted his head.
"When you put it that way, it kinda makes sense..."
"That's how it is. You might not get it now, but you'll see naturally soon enough. Don't strain that stubborn brain of yours."
"Got it. I'll just trust you, my lord."
"Good, good."
Viscount Servio sat in an armchair, reading a thick leather-bound volume. A small side table held an afternoon tea set.
As the steam from his cup faded, urgent footsteps halted outside the door.
Knock knock.
"Come in."
It was the head steward in a crisp white tunic.
He burst in and spoke in a frantic tone.
"My lord, there's urgent news you must hear."
Viscount Servio said nothing.
Only the rustle of turning pages filled the room.
It made the steward's haste seem pointless.
But he waited silently for his master's response.
Finally, after sipping his tea, the viscount looked up and spoke.
"What is it?"
Only then did the head steward pour out his words at rapid speed.
"My lord, there's been a mass desertion from the Shadow Unit. Not only that—the instructors stationed at Golda Plateau Fortress have vanished, and the rest were found dead this morning."
At that moment, another steward rushed in and prostrated himself.
"My lord! All key executives of the Millers Merchant Guild have vanished. Major assets owned by the guild are listed in the ledgers but already sold off. The headquarters is swarming with creditors—total chaos!"
Shocking news came one after another, but Viscount Servio remained surprisingly calm.
He merely savored his black tea with leisurely poise.
The stewards, sensing the calm before the storm, stiffened.
Tension thickened the air.
A mere touch could set off an explosion.
Then a man in leather armor entered and bowed.
It was Cave, commander of the Shadow Unit.
"I have no face to show. I never imagined so many had been bought off by Gerard. They realized the executioners alone couldn't chase them all, so even the malcontents bolted too."
"Hoooh..."
Viscount Servio exhaled deeply to quell his anger and asked,
"Where did the trail go cold?"
"Szczecin County. A week ago, the county's guards reportedly raided Gerard's group and threw them in an underground dungeon. But discreet inquiries confirm Gerard is no longer there. We tried to follow the trail, but as you know, relations with that place are poor—our trackers face severe restrictions."
"Szczecin territory..."
Viscount Servio closed his eyes and muttered.
"Why would that rat Gerard flee? And to Szczecin of all places? Did he really think he could run forever? Is he that stupid?"
A low chuckle escaped moments later.
"Heh heh heh. Took a hit there. Steward!"
"Yes, my lord."
"Send someone to Golda Plateau Fortress. Have them check the secret vault."
"What should they look for?"
"The silver ingot chest, obviously."
The steward tilted his head.
"I heard the mine collapsed and it was buried under rubble..."
"That's why I'm telling you to check personally. Dig it up if you have to—use any means to confirm if the silver's still there. Understood?"
"Y-yes, my lord!"
"And unit commander."
"Yes."
"Recall the trackers embedded in Szczecin for now. Exposed spies do more harm. He's long gone from the territory anyway."
"Understood. Are we abandoning the pursuit entirely?"
"Hmm, yes. Monitor ships on the Elin River. If he hasn't shown up after this week... just return. It means he hasn't fled abroad. As long as he's in the kingdom, we'll get our due someday."
"Yes, my lord."
Viscount Servio rose, donning his overcoat as he said,
"Steward!"
"Yes, my lord."
"Prepare my things. I must see Marquis Antonio."
"At once."
Marquis Antonio gladly accepted Viscount Servio's request for an audience.
Surprisingly, the mood between them was serene.
Gerard's flight was akin to a pet dog slipping its leash—nothing more.
Though it had trashed the house a bit.
The marquis chided him on that point.
"Even a perfectionist like you slips up sometimes."
"Merely one pawn sacrificed. Hardly a crisis."
"Things haven't gone smoothly since that incident. Perhaps we were too hasty."
"But it was a golden chance to eliminate a promising knight nearing class 7. If he'd bolstered the king's forces, maintaining balance would have been impossible."
"True, regrets won't change it now. The cur who ran off with the money—the executioners will handle him... But what of that arrogant pup from Szczecin who aided his escape? Shall we fabricate a pretext and declare territorial war?"
"War...? My lord, what if we apply diplomatic pressure instead?"
"Diplomatic?"
Marquis Antonio's interest piqued.
Truth be told, he disliked war.
It cost too much.
"They still haven't replaced their noble council proxy. Orsel Tiggrim is one of ours—we can use him before he's swapped out."
"Elaborate."
"Well..."