The Only Loyal House
Around that same time, Adel von Setia was drowning in worry.
Becoming lord against my will—fine. I was the only one left with Setia blood. But if things keep going like this, I'm going to die. They'll use me however they please, and the moment I'm no longer useful, they'll kill me.
The Four Great Houses were far too powerful. With the highest-ranking families all joined hand in hand, even Adel could not openly defy them.
It had been different under Henrik, and under Andeln. Henrik's own ability had been so overwhelming that his vassals never dared cross him, and Andeln had inherited Henrik's entire support base intact—he had started from solid ground. Adel was different. Suddenly thrust onto the ducal seat without proper education, he had neither a reliable base of support nor any exceptional talent of his own, and so he was simply swept along by the Four Great Houses and their crushing power.
Adel may have neglected his studies, but he was no fool. His tutors had even rated his talent higher than Andeln's. That was precisely why he understood exactly what kind of situation he was in.
This is the most important moment of my life. One wrong step here, and I die.
A judgment driven more by instinct than reason—and yet it was accurate. Adel stood at a crossroads between life and death.
The Four Great Houses are a pack of wolves. The moment Father lost power, they betrayed him without a second thought. I can't trust them. The problem is that almost every other house betrayed him too… There's not a single soul in this world I can trust.
And then something flashed through Adel's mind.
Wait.
When nearly every house—including the Four Great Houses—had turned on his father, there had been one family that alone stood with him. That family was…
House Meyer. They were the only ones who took Father's side, weren't they?
House Meyer, led by Franz Meyer.
Adel remembered that day clearly. Henrik's forces: eight thousand. Andeln's: twenty thousand. In a situation where Henrik's defeat was all but certain, Franz Meyer had still chosen Henrik's side.
Why side with Henrik? When asked, Meyer had answered simply:
Because Lord Henrik was my liege.
That was it. Even in a battle he was certain to lose, that man still offered his loyalty to his lord.
Brother Franz is a true vassal! Even if I fall from power someday, he would never betray me! If I want to live, I have no choice but to put my strength behind a true loyalist!
Adel made his decision. To survive, he would have to take Meyer's hand—because Meyer was the only man who had kept faith through the civil war two years prior.
The first time that decision of Adel's truly bore fruit was after the war began.
Word soon arrived that Leona was preparing an invasion. The Twelfth Kruzenstein–Setia War had begun.
The leading vassals gathered at the castle for a strategy council. The Four Great Houses were there, and so was the loyalist faction led by Franz Meyer.
Once everyone had assembled, Adel spoke.
"Listen well, all of you! We have received word that the Kruzenstein army is mustering its forces! There can be no other destination—they are coming for Torgenberg! If anyone has a sound idea for how we should meet the war that is nearly upon us, speak!"
After a stretch of silence, Franz Meyer was the first to open his mouth.
"Asilia. The map."
"Yes."
Franz unrolled the map Asilia brought and drew a line across one place with a quill.
"There is a river here called the Aquila. It cuts directly across the enemy's line of advance. The water is shallow, but the river is wide—difficult to ford."
His quill followed the river and stopped at a single point.
"Our army takes position on the western bank. Then we wait for the enemy to attempt a crossing."
Franz had offered his counsel, but the head of House Ost—one of the Four Great Houses—snorted.
"An operation that doesn't even grasp the basics of military science."
It was an open insult to House Meyer, a family of storied strategists, but Franz did not react. The man was talking nonsense.
"If you mean to dig in, there are fortresses and hills—why insist on a river? Aren't you throwing away the defender's advantage? The enemy numbers roughly twenty thousand; our own force is at least thirty thousand, and could reach forty. What reason do we have to be afraid?"
"Pfft…"
"Y-you little—!"
Ost's face flushed purple at Franz Meyer's open mockery. From Franz's point of view, though, he could hardly help laughing. After spending so much time around genuinely brilliant people, it had been a long while since he'd heard a criticism this stupid.
"Neither a fortress nor a hill will do. There is a reason it has to be the river."
At Franz's words, our lord Adel von Setia asked,
"And what reason is that, Sir Franz?"
"Muskets."
"Muskets?"
"Yes. The enemy has used the fertile land and port cities of the Kruzenstein Duchy—and the overwhelming wealth those advantages bring—to stockpile thousands of muskets. And muskets misfire far more often in high humidity. Add a river crossing on top of that… and they become useless."
"So you want to fight them on a damp riverbank."
"Exactly so."
Adel nodded in admiration. The Four Great Houses, however, were not ready to give up.
"Ridiculous!"
The one who rose to his feet was the head of House Endia.
"The enemy is half our number! I don't know what madness has seized them that they would attack with only half our strength, but this is a golden chance to annihilate their main force! We can barely spare enough men to march out in full—and you want to defend? Defend? I've never seen a coward like you!"
"Hear, hear!"
"Hear, hear!"
The other heads of the Four Great Houses chimed in. Franz could only feel a crushing sense of frustration.
Incompetent fools, the lot of them.
Leona was a genius. If a genius of her caliber chose attack over defense, there was a reason to attack—and a reason she was confident. Clemens, who had once served as her vanguard, had held thirty thousand with only five thousand, if only once. Leona's army was strong. Not quite one-against-a-hundred, but easily one-against-ten. Charging out first against people like that was the act of a man whose guts had spilled out of his belly.
Franz drew a long breath and spoke.
"The Duchy of Torgenberg is not fertile land. We have no port that brings in money, either."
"Are you insulting the land our forebears cultivated?"
"I am not insulting their efforts. Land has its own character, no matter how carefully you tend and manage it. The Duchy of Torgenberg simply does not have the financial power of the Kruzenstein Duchy."
"So we should tuck our tails between our legs like frightened dogs? How very like the soft-handed heir of a scholar's house!"
"Hahaha!"
"But the Duchy of Torgenberg has one great advantage no other region possesses."
"…And what is that, Sir Franz?"
"Overwhelming defensive strength. This land has overwhelming defensive strength. The secret of how House Setia has repelled House Kruzenstein's invasions eleven times out of eleven lies right here. This land is blessed by nature to favor the defender—and refusing to use that defensive strength is like locking a hard-won treasure in a chest and never taking it out."
"I see…"
"Your Grace! Will you fall for such honeyed words?"
"Please heed the counsel of your senior vassals! Franz Meyer is still a green boy! We are the ones thinking of this house's future!"
At the words of House Endia's head, Adel answered in a thin, quiet voice.
"Is that so?"
"Of course!"
"If you care so much for the house… then why did you betray my father?"
"…"
"Ah. So you think of the house, but not of your lord?"
"…"
A cold wind seemed to pass through the hall. The Four Great Houses could only work their mouths soundlessly, unable to produce a single word.
"In my view, Sir Franz's counsel is the sounder one."
"Your Grace!"
"Do not misunderstand. I do not hate any of you. I simply… wish to choose the tactic with even a slightly higher chance of victory."
"Ah…"
That day, the Four Great Houses understood. They had begun to slip from the center of power.
After that day, rumors that House Meyer had become the true power behind the throne spread in every direction. Word that their lord favored House Meyer and kept the Four Great Houses at a distance rode the wind and flew far and wide.
When Georg Meyer heard those stories, he could barely contain the nameless emotion surging up inside him. What had House Meyer been like in his own generation? They had had to watch the Four Great Houses' faces at every turn. To avoid offending them, they had deliberately lost, bowed low, and scraped by on careful politics just to survive.
And now? Those same Four Great Houses stood at Meyer's feet. The relationship between the two powers had been completely reversed.
How in the world…
Even when his only son had taken the side of Henrik—a setting sun—Georg had wondered whether handing over the family headship had been a mistake. But now that choice had returned as a blessing in disguise. Compared to the trust of their lord that they held now, the losses of those days were nothing more than a scratch.
Did he know it would turn out like this?
Had Franz Meyer sided with Henrik in advance, knowing things would come to this? If he thought of it that way, every piece fell into place. Even the reason Henrik von Setia—who had insisted on fighting to the last—had chosen to surrender despite knowing his own son would kill him. If it had been to leave a trustworthy retainer at his second son's side… didn't that make sense?
If that is true…
Then House Meyer would reach its golden age in Franz's generation. And for the chance to see that sight with his own eyes, Georg Meyer resolved to manage his health as carefully as he could—and live a long, long time.