Chapter 94
Chapter 94
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 94
Chapter Title: A Brother's Role
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On the way back to the inner castle.
“What are you thinking about, Young Master?”
“Nothing.”
Carlyle replied to Maranello's question.
“This old man finds you quite remarkable, Young Master.”
“What’s this all of a sudden?”
“You’ve caused quite a major incident, haven’t you?”
“Have I?”
“…Young Master.”
Maranello squeezed his eyes shut at Carlyle’s reaction.
“You are trying to shatter the order of the United Kingdom, which has been maintained for the past several hundred years.”
“So what?”
“Young Master, this is a truly serious matter. The entire kingdom could be shaken…”
“If it shakes, it shakes.”
Carlyle retorted as if it were no big deal.
“Even if it wasn’t me, it would have been revealed someday. Do you really think this disgusting charade could have lasted forever?”
“Hmm.”
“What’s meant to happen will happen. The chaos that follows is only natural.”
“But…”
“A lot of people will die. Because a war will break out. I know that much.”
Anyone who had played the game [Overlord] would know this.
The moment the truth was revealed, tension would grip the United Kingdom, and the pent-up resentment and hatred toward the royal family would erupt, inevitably leading to war.
That was, after all, the main scenario of the game [Overlord].
“In the end, as long as the North is fine, that’s all that matters, right?”
“Pardon…?”
“Whether the United Kingdom falls or not. Whether the royal family is deposed or not. Whether the other families tear each other apart or not. What does any of that have to do with us?”
“You’re not wrong.”
The United Kingdom was, quite literally, a confederation of thirteen families, including the royal family and the twelve great domains.
The territories ruled by each family, and the people who had put down roots there, had such distinct identities that they did not consider themselves one people.
Their temperaments were different, their values were different, and so were their ways of thinking.
This was why the royal family, even with their foresight, had failed to completely unify the United Kingdom and had settled for merely reigning over it.
“We just need to live well. The Sigmunds have defended the United Kingdom from barbarian invasions for the past several hundred years. And what was our reward?”
“That is…”
“We received no compensation, only empty honor. Instead, we were the only ones who bled, and the lives of the northerners, far from improving, grew more and more destitute. Does it make sense that this is all we get for centuries of bloodshed?”
“You speak the truth.”
“So whether chaos comes or not, it’s none of my business. We can just watch from the sidelines and profit from the chaos.”
“It won’t be easy.”
“We’ll have to make it so. We know the royal family’s secret, and the other families don’t. If we can leverage this advantage and let it snowball, it’s not an impossible scenario.”
“You are wise. Truly wise.”
“I’m not the one who needs to be wise. The Grand Duke, Selena, and Frey are.”
Carlyle answered indifferently and continued walking.
* * *
For the remainder of his leave, Carlyle quietly holed himself up in his room, reading during the day and training in swordsmanship with Maranello at night.
His leave was nearly over, about three days before he was due to return to his unit.
“Maranello.”
“Yes, Young Master.”
“Is Frey home right now?”
“At this hour…”
Maranello took out the pocket watch he always carried, checked the time, and replied.
“He should be training in swordsmanship with His Grace the Grand Duke.”
“When does it end?”
“The training usually lasts about an hour, so it should be over soon.”
“When he’s done, tell him I want to see him tonight.”
“Why are you suddenly looking for Young Master Frey?”
Maranello asked, puzzled.
It went without saying, but Carlyle and Frey were not close.
It wasn’t that they fought with each other.
It was just that Carlyle had lost Frey’s respect during his hooligan days.
Of course, Frey still treated Carlyle as his older brother, but they hadn’t had a single private interaction in the past few years.
“Thought I’d try acting like a big brother for once.”
“Pardon…?”
“What, is it strange for someone like me to want to act like a brother?”
“How could it be?”
Maranello waved his hands as if the thought was absurd.
“It’s just that you two have been so distant. That’s all that surprised me. Why would this old man find it strange for a brother to act like a brother?”
“Well, there are brothers, and then there are *brothers*. Only the ones who deserve the title get to act like one, and that’s not me, is it?”
“Ahem, ahem.”
“What is it?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Don’t give me that. Your face says it all: ‘And you’re just figuring that out?’”
“N-no, it’s not that.”
“Yes, it is.”
Carlyle glared at Maranello.
“Anyway, go tell him. I’ll be waiting, so tell him to be there by midnight.”
“Understood.”
Maranello beamed and bowed his head to Carlyle.
*I don’t know what this is about, but it’s a good thing. The Young Master is finally starting to look after the youngest master as well.*
Mending a broken relationship is very difficult.
But for family, for people who share the same blood, it’s not impossible.
Besides, while Carlyle had acted atrociously, he had never directly harmed his family, so there was still plenty of room for reconciliation.
That night.
As midnight approached, Carlyle headed to the meeting place with Frey.
“You’re here, brother.”
Frey, who had arrived first and was waiting, greeted him.
“Ah, yeah.”
Perhaps because it was his first time speaking alone with Frey, Carlyle’s reply was awkward.
*I know him better than anyone, yet this feels strangely awkward.*
Carlyle scratched the back of his head sheepishly.
Frey van Sigmund.
One of the protagonist characters in the game [Overlord].
As the young lord of Decaron, his goal was to rebuild the Sigmund family after it suffered a devastating blow from a certain incident and, further, to achieve the complete independence of the North.
Of course, that was an event nine years in the future, and with Carlyle around, it was no exaggeration to say it would never happen.
He intended to prevent the future tragedy of the Sigmund family at its source.
“Follow me.”
“Okay.”
“…”
“…”
An awkward silence fell.
They were distant, and with nothing particular to say, neither of them spoke.
Carlyle was the type to get straight to the point, while Frey, though kind, couldn’t think of any topics to discuss with Carlyle.
“Um, brother.”
“What.”
“What was the battlefield like?”
“Heh.”
Carlyle laughed.
“Is that really the best topic you could come up with?”
“…”
“The battlefield. Dirty, uncomfortable, loud, horrible, and exhausting. Something like that.”
“I-I see. Wasn’t it hard?”
“Isn’t that what I just said?”
“Ah…?”
“You don’t have to talk if you have nothing to say.”
“Okay.”
The place Carlyle took Frey to was one he had visited before.
Arriving in front of the wall, Carlyle turned to Frey.
“Your hand.”
“Huh?”
“Give me your hand.”
“Ugh!”
As Carlyle sliced his palm with a dagger, Frey jumped back in surprise.
*When did he…?*
Carlyle was quite surprised by Frey’s quick movements.
It was amazing how he had put more than five meters between them in the blink of an eye.
*So this is Frey, after all.*
While Carlyle was inwardly impressed, Frey frowned and spoke.
“What are you doing, brother?”
“Quiet, and come here.”
“I asked what you were doing.”
“Just come. There’s a reason for it.”
“F-fine.”
Frey approached Carlyle, his expression slightly tense.
“Don’t be surprised.”
Carlyle grabbed Frey’s wrist and pressed his bleeding palm against the brick wall.
*Srrk*, the wall distorted, and a door leading to the Sigmund family’s secret passage appeared.
“Wh-what is this?”
“The door to our family’s secret vault.”
“Hah.”
“You need the blood of our family to enter. That’s why I cut your palm.”
“You could have just done it yourself, couldn’t you?”
“Then I would’ve been the one in pain.”
“…”
“Besides, you’re the younger brother. You should do it.”
Frey looked aggrieved, but Carlyle didn’t bat an eye.
“Here.”
Carlyle handed a potion and a handkerchief to Frey.
“Ah, this much is fine. I’ll just take the handkerchief.”
Frey said, wiping the blood with the handkerchief.
“It’ll hurt if you leave it.”
“It’ll heal soon. Look.”
Frey showed him his palm as if to prove his point.
“Wh-what the.”
Carlyle frowned, looking at Frey’s palm.
The palm that had just been cut by the dagger was healing in real time.
“Why are you so surprised? We’re Sigmunds.”
“What does being a Sigmund have to do with healing fast?”
“What do you mean? We heal quickly whenever we get hurt. You too.”
“Me?”
“Have you already forgotten when you fell off that cliff while running away?”
“Mm.”
“A normal person would have never recovered. Back then, your head was cracked, your spine was broken, and an artery was ruptured. If you weren’t a Sigmund, you would have never survived.”
Frey wore an expression full of pride, as if pleased.
*The Sigmunds… Maybe they’re even bigger monsters than I thought.*
Carlyle thought to himself, shaking his head.
* * *
Meanwhile, Grand Duke Guntram, who had been anxiously wringing his hands for the past few days, tensed up when a letter arrived from the royal family.
His second son… the worst hooligan in the history of the North had caused an incident beyond his control, so even the great Grand Duke Guntram couldn’t help but feel uneasy.
So when a letter arrived from the royal family, it was only natural for him to be tense.
However, the actual contents of the letter were not what the Grand Duke had been worried about.
In fact, it was rather surprising.
“…A full-scale offensive against the barbarians this autumn, in the nature of a preemptive war.”
At any other time, this would have been enough to make the Grand Duke’s blood boil.
Usually, when the royal family ordered a full-scale offensive, they would only mobilize Decaron’s forces.
Each time, Decaron would suffer enormous losses, and even if they won the battle, they always ended up at a net loss.
It was a gain for the royal family and the United Kingdom, of course.
But this time was different.
“They’ll send troops drawn from the twelve great domains, excluding Decaron. What is this…?”
To his surprise, the letter stated that the royal family planned to send large-scale reinforcements.
And the scale was said to be at least fifty thousand troops, to the point that the Grand Duke even doubted if the letter was truly from the royal family.
The royal family, which had always demanded sacrifices only from Decaron, was now going to extract troops from the other families and send them…
Suddenly, Carlyle’s words flashed through the Grand Duke’s mind.
-They’ll conclude it was the barbarians’ doing and sweep it under the rug. In fact, they’ll probably squeeze troops out of the other families and send them our way. Because the North doesn’t have the strength to retaliate against the barbarians on the royal family’s behalf.
“…The boy was right.”
The royal family was moving exactly as Carlyle had predicted.