Chapter 129: Coastal City Alliance
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 129: Coastal City Alliance
It was a cloudless sky. The sun, reigning supreme, made the sea shimmer with golden waves. The humid wind felt as if it were tugging at my trousers, urging me to dive into the water.
The salty scent of the sea permeated the breeze, and the deck swayed with every wave.
The sailors were raising the anchor and checking the various ropes. Once the lines mooring them to the dock were cast off, the ship would unfurl its sails and venture into the vast, open sea, where only the horizon remained.
The dock, usually bustling with merchants and laborers with barely any room to stand, was now controlled by mercenaries.
They sat on the bare ground or perched on crates, chattering endlessly with their comrades. It was as noisy as a marketplace. Their unrestrained behavior made them look like a disorderly mob.
However, knowing there were a thousand of them would force anyone to reconsider.
Watching them from the deck, I couldn't help but be impressed. To think that Aron, the margrave's heir—pushed aside by his younger brother and stripped of his power—still had this much strength remaining.
“Looks like he really wanted to strike back, huh?”
I wondered what kind of face the Count would make if he learned that the ousted heir had backed me with a thousand soldiers just to reclaim his position.
Worse, because of his promise to me, he was now responsible for supplying all one thousand of them.
Even for a count as inscrutable as a fox, it wouldn't be easy to maintain his composure.
“This is a force I raised with the help of the families and people who support me, as well as my wife's family. This means we've bet everything on this expedition. But you, Baron, seem far too relaxed. Do you even intend to keep your promise?”
Unlike me, Aron looked displeased. I was, after all, a little late for our appointment. He continued.
“Even without this, many of my vassals argued against handing over command to a baron who came alone, without a single soldier. You have no idea how hard it was for me to persuade them and quell their complaints, Baron.”
He had a point. Not only would they dislike a stranger like me being placed above them, but a commander usually takes 30% of the plunder.
“Don't worry. I guarantee you'll accomplish far more than Erik on this expedition.”
“Words are cheap. My father and Erik have already set sail. Erik won't miss the chance to strike while the enemy is still unaware of the expedition, which means we're already falling far behind from the start.”
“Leaving early doesn't always mean arriving first. Isn't that right, Mollak?”
Mollak, who had been so engrossed in the map I'd lent him he looked like he might be sucked into it, raised his head. A confident smile played on his lips.
“Of course. With this, we can easily make up for a week's delay.”
The route to the East always passed through the Northern Continent, as it was closer than the Western Continent. It wasn't for nothing that Dresden, located further north than Quaran, had developed into a trading port.
Therefore, Mollak, a merchant who sailed the great oceans, was bound to be an expert on the Northern Continent's sea routes. And now that he even had my map in his hands, he was brimming with confidence.
“What is that?”
When Aron showed a hint of interest, Mollak was startled and quickly tucked the map into his clothes.
“Hehe, it's a secret.”
He happened to stuff it into his trousers, and Aron recoiled in disgust. After giving one last displeased look, he transferred to his own ship.
I remained on Mollak's ship. We had agreed to travel together as far as the Northern Continent on his way to the East.
Soon, the preparations for departure were complete, and the ships carrying the thousand mercenaries cut through the sea. A white, ribbon-like trail of foam followed in their wake.
“It will take about two weeks to reach the Northern Continent.”
Mollak added that even this was a week shorter than usual, thanks to the map and his skills.
“Do you know about the recent situation on the Northern Continent?”
There wasn't much to do on the vast, open sea. I intended to get information about the Northern Continent from Mollak and compare it with what I already knew.
“To sum it up in one word, it's a mess. The previous king died without leaving a direct heir, and for the past five years, the collateral branches of the Torrent dynasty have been waging a civil war, each claiming the throne.”
In the process, a promising heir was assassinated, the next one died of illness, and another died in an accident—they'd been dying in all sorts of ways, so the civil war showed no sign of ending.
“Rumors are circulating that the Lord has abandoned the Torrent dynasty. Of course, in my opinion, it seems like a rumor deliberately spread by the Pope.”
The chaos on the Northern Continent was likely continuing because even the Pope coveted secular power.
“That can't be right. In times like these, the Pope should be the one to step forward and quell the continent's chaos...”
I glanced over Mollak's shoulder. Archbishop Raceni, who had come out for some fresh air, had subtly moved closer upon hearing the Pope mentioned.
He pretended not to be eavesdropping, keeping his gaze fixed on the sea, but his ears perked up every time the Pope was mentioned.
“You're expecting too much. This is a Pope who's said to have more than ten illegitimate children. And is that all? Not only did he turn the sacred house of the Lord into a brothel, but he also supposedly prayed to a heretic's god for help when gambling with dice. It's truly absurd. There are even rumors that the Pope is involved in the suspicious deaths of the heirs vying for the throne.”
The rumors were true. The Pope's goal, as I'd seen in the game, was to build a theocratic state.
The Archbishop's face hardened, and he began to pray repeatedly, so I changed the subject.
“Since the civil war has been going on for five years, the nobles' power must have been significantly weakened, right?”
“Not as much as you might think. The nobles of the Northern Continent don't care who becomes king. That's because their lord-vassal relationships are looser than on other continents.”
The nobles of the Northern Continent don't pay taxes to the monarch they serve. The monarch isn't so much an object of loyalty as an ally or a regional representative.
Therefore, they have nothing to gain or lose regardless of who becomes king. That's why they're just watching the fire from across the river.
Mollak continued.
“However, there are times when that loose alliance becomes very strong: when an external enemy invades. Historically, the nobles of the Northern Continent have always united against foreign foes, even while fighting amongst themselves.”
The Northern Continent had nationalistic tendencies, which was unusual for the medieval era. That must be why they were able to rally so quickly when a central figure—a named character—appeared.
This meant the fight would be tougher than I'd thought.
In any case, aside from the Pope's misdeeds being far more numerous, it wasn't much different from my memories. And even that was information that worked to my advantage.
“I wonder if Count Dresden knows that.”
“He must, don't you think? He's a great noble who controls a trading port where all sorts of information gathers.”
“True…”
I couldn't imagine the fox-like Count Dresden not having gathered intelligence. And that wasn't all the Count had prepared.
It was when we arrived at Barda, the southernmost port city of the Northern Continent. We had expected Barda to be hostile. But instead, the mayor of Barda came out to the docks to greet us.
“Welcome, men of Dresden!”
Aron explained as he disembarked.
“The civil war has been going on for five years now. Did you think Dresden has just been sitting idly by?”
For someone who'd been pushed out of the line of succession, he wore a smug expression, his pride in his family apparently still intact.
However, it didn't take long for that expression to turn to shock. After greeting us, the mayor of Barda looked around and asked.
“By the way, where is the Count?”
Count Dresden, who had supposedly departed a week before us, had not yet arrived. A startled Aron turned to look at me.
“No, how…?”
“Didn't I tell you not to worry?”
Count Dresden's fleet appeared in Barda the next morning.
The Count and Erik were also visibly surprised to see us already ashore and encamped. And, just like Aron, he asked.
“...How? How could you be faster than us?”
“Thanks to a skilled navigator.”
“Unbelievable. To think Dresden's navigators were outmatched. By a whole week, no less?”
The lord of Dresden, who ruled the seas of one side of the continent, looked incredulous.
‘I'd be disappointed if you were only this surprised.’
The Count was surprised once again when he saw the thousand soldiers already encamped, and when he learned that this was the force Aron had raised to support me, his face crumpled like a sheet of paper.
“Foolish boy.”
He had conceded the Broua County to borrow my strength, only for his own eldest son to provide that strength, and now he even had to handle the supplies. His patience in not cursing out loud deserved praise.
“You are the one who made things this way, Count.”
Aron didn't back down. Wasn't the Count the one who had tried to use me to assassinate him? That was why he had to bet his life on this expedition.
The two glared fiercely at each other. It was as if sparks flew where their gazes met.
The Count soon turned his head as if Aron wasn't worth his time. He was looking at me.
“Then the Baron's forces must have remained on the continent.”
He seemed to be wondering if he should turn his forces back even now. He had concentrated his family's entire military power for the Northern Continent expedition; it would be a disaster if some random fool decided to raid his empty home.
“Someone has to keep the king in check.”
It meant I wasn't foolish enough to make an enemy of Dresden when I'd already made an enemy of the king.
“Tsk. I should have held the wedding, no matter how rushed.”
But that alone didn't seem to be enough to convince him, as the Count regretted postponing the wedding.
Clicking his tongue, he entered the command tent first. I was just about to follow him inside.
“Wait, you can't go in, brother.”
Erik stopped Aron, who was following me. Aron's face twisted.
“What are you talking about!”
“Father intends to discuss the future schedule in a private meeting between commanders.”
“And you?”
“I am no exception.”
As Erik stepped aside from the command tent, Aron could no longer protest.
“Baron. I'm counting on you.”
I nodded and entered the command tent. The Count was pouring wine into a glass on the table. He slumped into a chair and spoke.
“Baron, you've backed the wrong horse. Look at him, entrusting his command to another. If Aron wanted my acknowledgment, he should have stepped up himself.”
This was the Count's way of pointing out his eldest son's mistake. Of course, that wasn't the only reason he separated Aron from me.
‘He wouldn't want Aron helping me.’
He must have judged that having Aron—the heir who was once the frontrunner in the succession race—assisting me would put him at a disadvantage when negotiating the future plans.
“Who in this world is perfect? Besides, utilizing talent in the right place is a virtue of a ruler. If I achieve great things in the Northern Continent expedition, then Lord Aron will also receive his due reward.”
“Fine. If that is your will, Baron, I will not mention this matter again.”
The Count couldn't protest further. Our promise was that I would help Dresden obtain the throne of the Northern Continent. It didn't matter who I helped, as long as I ultimately fulfilled that promise.
The Count continued.
“To win the throne of the Northern Continent, we must first capture the royal capital. It holds symbolic meaning as the starting point of the old Great Empire.”
“It's also the largest city on the Northern Continent.”
As mentioned before, the nobles of the Northern Continent were so independent they could each be called a small kingdom.
Thus, the monarch couldn't demand taxes from his vassals, and most of his revenue came from the lands he owned directly. This was why the royal capital, the largest city on the Northern Continent, was so valuable.
“Correct. If we capture the royal capital, we can consider more than half of the expedition's objective achieved.”
“The problem is that the royal capital is in the very center of the Northern Continent. And those vying for the throne will be watching for an opportunity around it like tigers.”
“That is why your role is important.”
The Count spread a map on the table. It was an exquisite map for this era, a testament to how much he had prepared.
The Count continued.
“I need you to attack the coastal cities.”
“What is the reason? The land route to the capital should be faster than following the coast.”
“Because the sponsor of our strongest competitor is the Coastal City Alliance.”
“Are you planning to use me as bait?”
A feint to the east to attack the west.
The Count intended to use me as bait to draw out his powerful rival and then strike the opening.
“Are you aware that each city in the Coastal City Alliance is wealthier than a decent county? So this won't be a bad deal for you either.”
It was an offer that was hard to refuse. Mollak and Robert had just started their trading business, so I would have to wait quite a while for any profits.
And the Count clearly knew my financial situation wasn't good.
“They're not fools. Do you think they'll fall for it?”
“Just once. It will work once. The enemy doesn't know our objective yet.”
“The problem will be Lord Aron, then.”
This would make me the supporting force and the Count the main force. Naturally, this meant the achievements Aron could claim would be diminished.
He had surely considered that point when making the offer. The Count was truly a fox of a man.
“Is that really a problem?”
The Count asked, moistening his dry throat with wine. He meant that whether I was the main force or the supporting one, I was still helping Aron, so it wasn't a breach of my promise to him.
It seemed he had excluded Aron precisely to make this offer. I smiled faintly.
“Depending on how you look at it, it might not be a problem.”
Thinking his ploy had worked, a smile just like mine soon appeared on the Count's face.
But I wonder if he knows. That a named character, whose combat prowess rivals that of a hero, is waiting on the land route he chose.
Besides, when do things in this world ever go as planned? It wasn't so rare for the supporting force to become the main one, and the main force to become the support.