Chapter 43: Greed
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 43: Greed
Was he truly the Baron's left arm? The bastard knew so much. Thanks to him, I learned how my father died, and the series of events that followed, as vividly as if I had been there myself.
“Are you okay?”
Piole, who was leaning against the wall of Bertio’s house, couldn’t hide the worried look on her face. I must have looked terrible for even a tomboy like her to be concerned.
I glanced up at the sky. Unusually clear, it revealed a brilliant multitude of stars.
In the memories of my past life, humanity had explained most of the world’s phenomena through the advancement of science, including the fact that those points of light were planets, just like the earth I stood on.
But death alone remained a mystery.
“Honestly, he wasn’t a good father.”
He was a father who favored my younger sibling and, in contrast, found fault with every little thing I did, always looking at me with disapproval. My memories of him were always accompanied by his hands, as heavy as cauldron lids, and the club he wielded.
Perhaps that was why. Even after regaining the memories of my past life and knowing he would die, I felt little emotional turmoil. In fact, I even planned to use his death to my advantage.
And yet, now that I knew the details of how he died, an indescribable emotion seeped deep into my being.
“Still, this unbearable heat that surges from the depths of my chest… it must be simply because he was my father.”
Sharing the same blood was a terrifying thing. I took a deep breath, letting the cold winter wind cool my anger.
It wasn’t time to unleash it yet. Not yet…
“Ah…”
Piole stomped her feet, not knowing what to do. Then, squeezing her eyes shut, she pulled me into her arms.
“Piole. This is cold.”
It seemed she’d forgotten about the chainmail she was wearing. The metal pressing against my face was freezing.
“What? Ah, well…”
“Well, this isn’t so bad.”
I reached a hand inside the chainmail of the now even more flustered Piole and held her body, which was lean and smooth without a trace of fat.
Her muscles were clearly defined, like those of a warhorse, yet coexisted with an extreme softness. She was still a woman, after all. Her body temperature was quite high, and she felt warm.
“Hey, you…!”
“Now I’m finally warming up.”
As I buried my face in her shoulder, her struggling gradually subsided. Then, with a sigh of resignation, she hugged me back.
“Th-This is the only time.”
“That’s how it always starts.”
“Hey, you really…!”
Piole kept grumbling, but she didn’t push me away. We stood there, feeling each other’s warmth. Her lips parted again only after her tense muscles had relaxed slightly.
“I-I helped you for now, but what are you going to do?”
Was I just imagining it, or was she deliberately changing the subject to escape the awkward situation? Pointing it out would surely mean losing this warmth, so I decided to let it go.
“Isn’t it a little late to be asking that?”
“You’re the one who asked for help!”
“And you’re the one who accepted without a second thought. Oh, for heaven’s sake. The daughter of Sir Andrei, a vassal of Quaran, helped kill the Baron’s left arm? Isn’t this tantamount to a declaration of war?”
My exaggerated cry made Piole’s face turn pale.
“I-I only helped subdue him, that’s all!”
“Why leave out the part where you condoned his torture and death?”
“Ah, whatever. It’ll work out somehow. It’s not like they’ll kill me, right?”
So typically Piole. Knowing how shameless she was being, she blushed and avoided my gaze.
“What about you? You’re in bigger trouble than I am. I have someone to fall back on, but you have nothing.”
“Are you worried about me?”
“W-Worried? Of course not. It’s just… if things get too rough, come to Quaran. My father won’t turn you away.”
The way she glanced at me as she spoke made it seem like she wanted me to come to Quaran.
I shook my head.
“I can’t let this opportunity slip away.”
“An opportunity?”
“Yes. I’m going to use this incident as a stepping stone to devour the Baron and become a grand lord.”
Leaving a wide-eyed Piole behind me, I looked up at the stars. Yes. This was the beginning.
I will have your revenge.
A week later, I arrived alone in Polton, the Baron’s capital.
Polton was a proper city. The ramparts surrounding its perimeter were thick and high, and the spires spaced along them seemed to pierce the sky.
The Rhine River, which cut across the southeastern part of the continent, flowed before the southern gate. An arched stone bridge spanned the river, leading to a proper road.
The city, built at a crossroads of the continent’s southeastern transportation network, was bustling with people coming and going, even in the early dawn. It was a real city, incomparable to my manor. Greed stealthily reared its head.
I urged my horse toward the gate, a spear with a cloth-wrapped bundle tied to it resting on my shoulder.
Those I cut in front of scowled, but no one voiced their complaints. Fully armed, I was clearly a knight to anyone who saw me.
“Halt! From where do you come?”
The guards at the gate were different. Seeing me for the first time and noticing no family crest on my equipment, they stopped me.
The guard flinched as I glanced down at him. My sharp eyes often acted as a provocation to my superiors and a source of intimidation for my inferiors.
“I am Allen, son of Maxim Tobalts. I have come to see the Baron. Go and inform him at once.”
“Sir Maxim’s…?”
The guard’s eyes darted back and forth. Deciding this was not a matter for him to handle, he left the gate to his colleague and entered the city.
I asked the new guard, “Am I to wait here?”
“My apologies. The Baron has ordered that knights are forbidden from entering the city until their identities have been confirmed.”
The guard spoke with a genuinely apologetic expression, not forgetting to add that it was all because of the war.
“If it is the Baron’s command, I have no choice.”
The guard who had gone to deliver the message returned a short while later. His face was even more rigid as he guided me into the city.
“You are to be escorted.”
As soon as I entered, I saw well-maintained roads and buildings constructed of wood, stone, and plaster. The people were full of life, and the eyes of the children who looked at me were filled only with curiosity.
The atmosphere was much freer than at my manor.
The more I learned of the city, the more my greed grew, reaching its peak when I finally faced the lord’s castle.
Built on high ground, the castle was surrounded by another set of ramparts, a massive structure with square watchtowers connected at its four corners.
Standing before it and looking down at the city, the buildings and people looked as small as ants. This was the view of a true ruler.
“Sir Knight?”
“Ah, yes. Let’s go.”
I followed the urging guard into the castle. In a great hall, the Baron and his vassals were waiting for me.
A carpet stretched from the entrance of the hall to the few steps at the far end, and his vassals were positioned on either side. The Baron himself was seated on a chair atop the raised platform.
“Ahem.”
The vassals, who hadn’t hidden their discomfort from the moment they saw me, cleared their throats and avoided my gaze when our eyes met. Having colluded in the Baron’s plan, they naturally found my presence awkward.
Traitors.
What was unexpected was the Baron’s attitude. Skeletal and gaunt, he simply stared at me with an unreadable expression.
He beckoned to me.
“Come closer.”
I walked along the carpet, stopping midway to kneel on one knee and place my right hand over my left breast in a salute.
“Allen, son of Maxim Tobalts, greets the Baron.”
“Yes. I remember. I believe I saw you at Sophia’s wedding, did I not? What brings you to my castle unannounced?”
I glanced around at the Baron and his vassals. They were all my enemies, and I had walked right into the heart of their den.
Even so, I intended to provoke them further. It was a rite of passage I had to endure if I wanted to use them. Better to get the beating over with quickly, as they say.
“I have captured an imposter. A man who not only dared to impersonate one of your knights, but also made absurd demands in your name.”
The Baron’s brow twitched. In that moment, I unwrapped the bundle. The object inside fell to the floor, rolled, and came to a stop against the steps in front of me.
Simultaneously,
Shing.
The vassals on either side drew their swords and pointed them at me. The object was none other than the head of Jude Horn.
Thanks to the winter cold, the face, undecayed even after a week, was frozen in the despair of its final moments.
“H-How dare you!”
“Th-Th-That’s Sir Horn, is it not!?”
The horrified vassals looked back and forth between me and the Baron. The Baron stared intently into the eyes of the severed head. Taking advantage of the moment, I turned to the vassals with a look of bewilderment.
“Do you all know this imposter? He must be famous. Then again, how common could it be for a man to not only impersonate one of the Baron’s knights but also try to seize a manor in his name?”
“…”
The clamor died down in an instant. The vassals avoided my gaze again. Yes. If they had any conscience or shame, it was only natural they couldn’t lift their heads. I turned my attention to the Baron.
“But there was no chance I would be fooled! Who is my father? Is he not the knight who served you for over ten years, who stood at the forefront to crush your enemies? To think you would reclaim his manor the moment such a loyal vassal died? Would you ever be such a person, my lord Baron?”
To be honest, I couldn’t say this plan was entirely devoid of personal feelings.
The atmosphere instantly grew heavy. The vassals, holding their breath, swallowed hard and watched the Baron’s reaction. I, still feigning ignorance, tilted my head.
“My, why does everyone look so grim?”
Just then, the Baron slowly raised his head. His left arm had unexpectedly returned as just a head, yet his expression remained unchanged.
“Sir Jude was my knight.”
“I-Is that truly so? But then, why would this man say such a thing…?”
I feigned a look of shock, my voice trailing off.
“Sophia and Roland would have attested to his identity.”
The wily old Baron deftly sidestepped the uncomfortable topic. But his evasion didn’t last long.
“With all due respect, my lord…”
“Speak.”
I glanced at the vassals before speaking, as if I had no other choice.
“The two of them have eloped.”
Only then did the Baron’s languid eyes widen slightly. The vassals, too, looked at one another, their eyes darting about. Faced with this sudden, public scandal, they didn’t seem to know how to react.
“Eloped, you say.”
It was a marriage he had arranged, with a knight he had introduced. He couldn’t escape responsibility, yet the Baron just chuckled. He didn’t even ask for the details, as if he knew it would be pointless.
In truth, even if he had asked me for the details, there was no guarantee I would tell him the truth. In other words, it was a meaningless question.
Instead, he focused on the revealed facts.
“My niece has disappeared with the knight I introduced her to, and the knight I sent as my messenger has returned as only a head. Son of Maxim, don’t you find this all too coincidental?”
The vassals, his accomplices, backed him up.
“His Lordship is right! There is clearly foul play afoot!”
“He could be a spy for the enemy!”
Let them talk. I calmly watched the Baron. Then I attacked the point he had glossed over.
“Are you truly saying that the order to reclaim the fief of a vassal who had just proven his loyalty was your will?”
The Baron smirked.
“There has been a misunderstanding. I never gave such an order.”
The Baron was shameless, but he had the power to be. The vassals, who knew full well it was a lie, remained silent.
The Baron continued.
“What’s important is that, even if it was a misunderstanding, the crime of harming my messenger is great. Moreover, he was the strongest knight in my confidence. To compensate for this loss, not only must the manor be reclaimed, but you must also offer your head.”
The Baron was trying to use this opportunity not only to achieve his original goal but also to dispose of me, a troublesome thorn in his side. There was a reason the miserly man had held his position for so long.
Yes. The one who wanted me dead most in this room was the Baron. But the only one who could save me was also the Baron.
At the Baron’s signal, knights surrounded me. Their drawn swords gleamed coldly. I ignored them as if they weren’t there and looked at the Baron with an expression of disbelief.
“Are you saying that a man who couldn’t even block a single strike from me was the strongest knight you favored? You must be joking.”
“How dare you! Do you mean to insult Sir Horn!”
One of the knights surrounding me stepped forward, leveling his sword at me. The blade trembled as if it would pierce me at any moment.
“Wait.”
Had the Baron not stopped him, he surely would have thrust his sword. Raising a hand to halt him, the Baron looked at me. His gaze was like that of a merchant in the marketplace, appraising the value of goods.
Right. The most important question had been left out, hadn’t it? The question of how, and by whom, the great Jude Horn had died.
The curtain of prejudice that had labeled me a scoundrel was lifted. Would a greedy baron who had lost both his left and right arms simply kill the man who claimed to have slain his favored knight in a single blow?
The bait to hook his greed was none other than myself.
“You killed Sir Horn… by yourself? And in a single blow?”
“It was easier than wringing a chicken’s neck.”
At my arrogant display, the Baron smiled.
“If that is true, I shall give you a chance to redeem your mistake. Adrian.”
The knight who had been standing before me with his sword leveled showed his respects to the Baron, then faced me again.
“Draw your sword, son of Sir Maxim.”
Before drawing my sword, I opened my status window. The glittering, double-digit bonus points tempted me, begging to be used. Without a moment’s hesitation, I chose to invest them.