Chapter 157
Chapter 157
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 157
Chapter Title: Royal Marriage Alliance
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“Then when should I tell them to bring the armor?”
“Send two of the knights who came with me to Elan. I’ll have them relay the message to bring the ransom and the armor. It’ll arrive no later than a month from now.”
“I see. But that king and those nobles of yours... they won’t get any funny ideas, will they?”
At Eugene’s suspicion, Prabow gave a wistful smile.
“Your Grace’s forces will be accurately conveyed. However, as a knight of Elan, I can tell you that even the army you currently command would already be quite a burden on our homeland.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
When the time came, his own forces would grow even larger, so Eugene answered indifferently, which left an even deeper impression on Prabow.
“And as I’ve already mentioned, our country seeks only the cooperation of the Bartla Ducal House and has no intention of being hostile.”
“That’s fortunate, then.”
Prabow hesitated for a moment before cautiously asking as Eugene nodded in satisfaction.
“If I may be so bold... are Your Grace perhaps dreaming of unifying Brantia?”
“For now, let’s say yes.”
“Haa...”
Prabow let out a long sigh, as if he’d expected as much. But he snapped his head up at Eugene’s next words.
“If you want, I’ll recognize Elan’s independence. And I’ll cede the islands near Elan as territory.”
“...!”
Staring into Prabow’s widely astonished eyes, Eugene continued.
“My druid told me that unifying Brantia might bring even greater chaos and war. Even if someone succeeds, it won’t last beyond three generations.”
“Mm!”
Prabow groaned.
He had heard similar things multiple times from druids in Elan himself. Even his cousin, the Elf King, knew the story.
That was why the Elf King had resolved to unify Brantia not through brute force like previous dynasties had attempted, but through an entirely new plan.
The visit by high-ranking Elan nobles led by Prabow, and their attempt to persuade and bribe rather than lead with military might, had all been in that same vein.
“By any chance, was the advice from Your Grace’s druid...?”
“A united kingdom. My druid advised forming the Brantia Confederation Kingdom.”
“As I thought!”
Judging by Prabow’s reaction, clapping his hands even, Elan had been thinking along the same lines.
‘This makes things much easier.’
Eugene quickly turned the mind his acquaintances called a “demonic brain” and spoke.
“Brantia being invaded by continental kingdoms—that’s why the Knight King and the dynasties below him fell so easily. My druid sees it all as a systemic issue. In a country like Brantia with so many different races, it’s hard for a powerful royal house to emerge. Do you agree?”
Though a prisoner, Prabow—able to represent Elan—answered without hesitation.
“I agree. Not just me, but my king would agree as well. However...”
He trailed off, unable to voice that Elan should be at the center.
Eugene nodded as if he understood everything.
“I get it. You’re an honorable knight of Elan. You have to stand on Elan’s side.”
“My deepest thanks for Your Grace’s understanding.”
Prabow replied with a genuinely moved expression.
After coming to the mainland and seeing nothing but simple, brutish nobles, meeting someone wise and reasonable like Eugene felt like a breath of fresh air.
‘Isn’t he the ideal knight? Strength, strategy, and such magnanimity too. True kingly qualities!’
“Master, master. That elf dude’s got some weird, creepy eyes. Reminds me of those old days at my pond, the ones who’d strip naked, suck and blow on fish... Kiek!”
The spirit chattered on, dredging up old memories(?), only to get smacked and splatter against the wall as a gooey liquid.
The sight cleared Prabow’s mind and increased his fondness for Eugene even more.
“Anyway, Sir Prabow. If there’s a way to guarantee Elan’s independence and give you a foothold on the Brantia mainland?”
“Hmm? Where would such a method be?”
Eugene gave a meaningful smile to the tilting Prabow.
“Does the Elan king have any unmarried daughters or granddaughters? Oh, fifteen or older.”
“Pardon?”
“If so, I’ll make one the Queen of Brantia. I swear on my honor.”
“...!”
Prabow’s eyes bulged.
But he immediately grasped Eugene’s meaning and raised his voice in excitement.
“What a brilliant stroke! Oh! Your Grace’s wisdom truly reaches the heavens! Hahaha!”
Prabow burst into bright laughter.
If the head of Brantia’s greatest house, the Bartla Duke, claimed the throne, and a direct descendant of the Elan royal family stood at his side as consort, it would be more than just a foothold.
Pure-blood elves lived as long as vampires.
Under the assumption they didn’t marry within their own race, a union between the two was the most ideal interspecies match. There were even precedents of vampires and elves pairing off.
Moreover, the vampire before him had beauty surpassing even elves, and he was a “walker of the day.”
The couple could enjoy simple pleasures like strolling through forests or basking in sunlight without issue.
“I’ll include that in the letter home as well. Haha! Your Grace! Let us build a proper confederation kingdom together with Elan.”
Prabow laughed, already thinking of several candidates to pair with Eugene.
However.
“I appreciate you accepting so readily. Let’s make this work.”
Eugene was matchmaking for someone else, not himself. Prabow was greatly mistaken.
‘Things are going too smoothly?’
‘Bribing Mondelio turned out to be a blessing in disguise!’
“Hahaha!”
“Heh heh heh!”
Unaware of their perfect mutual misunderstanding, the origin vampire and the elf sword master were simply satisfied.
* * *
“Y-Your forgiveness, please! This foolish and clumsy one, for a m-moment I lost my mind... N-No! I was possessed by an evil spirit and had wicked thoughts! It’s a curse! The curse’s fault! I swear!”
Baron Mondelio, who had rushed out barefoot, prostrated himself flat on the ground and wailed desperately.
“Mercy, please!!!”
All the nobles of Mondelio territory followed him, slamming their heads to the dirt.
“Kie! Pathetic! What kinda crap is this?”
Mirian clicked his tongue.
Not just him—everyone in Eugene’s army looked at Baron Mondelio and his nobles with pitiful eyes.
And for good reason: the moment Baron Mondelio spotted Eugene’s army, he’d gathered his family and all the castle nobles and run barefoot to the village entrance to declare surrender.
“No honor, no spine. And these clowns thought of betraying a ducal house with that kinda guts? You lot who bribed him are just as pathetic.”
Galpredic sneered, glancing at Prabow and the elf knights.
Though he couldn’t understand the words, Prabow got the gist from the tone and averted his gaze awkwardly, clearing his throat.
“Evil spirit? Curse? Pretty creative bullshit.”
“...!”
Baron Mondelio and the nobles shuddered at Eugene’s cold voice from atop Silion.
Before the overwhelming might of Duke Bartla—who had captured Elan’s sword master—and his army, all they could do was grovel and beg for mercy.
“As of this moment, Mondelio territory is annexed to the Bartla Ducal House. It will henceforth be governed by an administrator acting in my stead. Baron Mondelio and his family—your titles are revoked. Any objections?”
“N-None, Your Grace! May the spirits bless you with boundless mercy!”
“Blessings upon Your Grace!”
Though his proud lordship vanished overnight, Baron Mondelio praised Eugene nonstop, thinking it a miracle he’d survived at all.
“And two of your direct kin—to the ducal castle as servants. Understood?”
“Y-Yes, understood.”
His heart sank at “servants” instead of squires, but Baron Mondelio could only nod. Better than being hauled off as slaves.
‘That should be the end of it?’
“The ducal forces and my own took heavy casualties. You’ll need to pay compensation—ransom for the knights plus reparations, right?”
...It wasn’t.
Baron Mondelio swallowed dryly and asked cautiously.
“H-How much would that be, Your Grace?”
“I want to see your sincere apology and heartfelt devotion.”
Here it comes!
One of the scariest things in the world is when they won’t name a figure but say, “Show me your sincerity.”
Especially when the one saying it holds a sword that could lop off your head anytime.
“Ah...”
Baron Mondelio looked up at Eugene, his face drained of color.
At that moment, Eugene’s lips moved subtly.
With all other nobles faces-down and Eugene’s knights behind, only Baron Mondelio could read the lip shape.
-Everything. All. Assets.
Flinching, Baron Mondelio soon bowed his head with a mournful expression.
“I... I offer all my assets.”
“Hm! I accept your burning sincerity.”
Baron Mondelio had committed a grave error, but strictly speaking, as an independent lord from the Bartla Ducal House long ago, there were limits to personal sanctions beyond revoking his title.
Moreover, with direct heirs of other vassals—disguised as squires—present, and high Elan noble Prabow watching.
‘Damn customs and laws, annoying but unavoidable.’
Still, stripping every last asset made this a fine end. The vassal heirs and Prabow would surely etch the new duke’s mercy deep in their hearts.
But that was only Eugene’s thought.
‘All assets? He’s gonna drag them straight to ruin!?’
‘How will lifelong lords and their families endure such humiliation? Better to just behead the baron.’
‘His authority as lord and family head is done. The duke is thorough and ruthless indeed.’
Knowing noble power came from land and wealth better than anyone, they trembled not at mercy, but at the ironclad revenge that uprooted the family pillar.
* * *
“Then we’ll be off, Master.”
“We’re ashamed to leave you all behind like this.”
The two elf knights, handed Prabow’s personal letter, bowed their heads.
“No need. Your mission is vital—don’t stray, deliver it swiftly.”
“We’ll keep that in mind.”
“Then until we meet again, Master and Duke Bartla, may the spirits’ grace be with you.”
The elf knights mounted and departed after polite bows to Eugene and Prabow.
Then, Knight Bonmer approached Loraine, who clung near Luke, and whispered low.
“Lady Loraine, we must resolve our ransom swiftly.”
“Huh? Why? It’s not uncomfortable or anything.”
Bonmer stifled a sigh at the flighty girl still peeking at Luke and spoke quickly.
“Of course, Sir Eugene—no, Duke Eugene—and Count Krollmarin are treating us honorably. But you must think of your lord and brothers. Especially your eldest brother, Lord Rayma—how worried he must be?”
“Uh...”
At mention of her big brother, Loraine’s eyes shook violently.
News of her must have reached Rayma by now—who knew what a furious brother might do.
‘I explained well in the letter, but...’
Stealing glances at Luke’s reliable face while picturing her angry brother, she sighed and nodded.
“Then let’s send another envoy. Ah! Sir Bonmer, you should go.”
“That won’t do.”
“Huh? Why not?”
Because if I leave now, who knows what nonsense you’ll get up to with Count Krollmarin!
You think I can’t see through your obvious scheme?
Unable to say that outright, Bonmer mustered maximum patience.
“That’s—”
“Gold coins... jewels... offer them... pair me... with the count... and bring him...”
“Hk!?”
Bonmer nearly drew his sword at the sudden sinister whisper.
(To be continued in the next installment)