Chapter 107
Translator: Ace
Chapter: 107
Chapter Title: Groundwork (1)
Federback gazed beyond the walls.
Originally, nothing but endless white snowfields stretched out there.
But now, massive ice walls stood in rows.
It was all thanks to the knights, soldiers—everyone, without exception—breaking the frozen lake's ice and hauling it over.
They cut the ice into rectangular blocks, stacked them in two layers, and filled the gap between with soil, creating crude but sturdy walls.
The soldiers poured water over the soil mounds between the thick ice walls and tamped it down firmly with stone rollers.
Towers of earthen ramparts—no, ice fortresses—now encircled the entire horizon.
Impregnable bastions that could withstand even hundreds, thousands, or tens of thousands of monsters charging at once.
Below them, knights and soldiers, now bulging with muscle, tirelessly cut ice and shoveled soil, repeating the process.
"Heave-ho! I can haul these ice blocks all by myself now!"
"Hah! Still a rookie! I can carry twice that!"
Hundred and Scolseiji sweated profusely as they sliced and hauled ice chunks.
Federback nodded as he watched them.
'The Northern Region's mana has begun to take notice of them.'
For now, they probably just felt a bit more accustomed to the cold.
But in truth, it meant the mana composing the North's harsh blizzards was starting to show favor to the Meursault House knights.
Once that happened, it wasn't just adaptation to the cold—various additional effects would emerge.
Nutrient absorption would improve, bodily waste would be expelled more efficiently, the mind would sharpen, and stray thoughts would vanish.
Up to this point, it wouldn't differ much from the benefits of cold-water therapy.
But as time passed, the pre-existing physical limits of the human body would gradually fade.
Muscle mass would increase, bone density would rise, and joint flexibility would grow.
Going further, each organ in the body would become incomparably more sensitive than before.
They'd hear the sound of snowmelt droplets falling and shattering, discern the crystalline structure of falling snowflakes, smell things frozen within thick ice, and distinguish temperature differences in snowflakes touching their skin.
And advancing even beyond that... they'd reach a realm where they could precisely control the density of mana channeled into their swords.
Federback planned to elevate every Meursault House knight to at least 4th Circle.
'...Among them, Hundred and Scolseiji are growing especially fast. After Sister, I should deploy them to the dream battlefield.'
Unaware of their futures—or not—
"Kahahat! I lifted three times as much! I'm Young Master Federback's right arm!"
"Can't lose! Four times for me! This body's his left arm!"
"But there's two of us, and Young Master Federback has two arms. Why fight? We could just each take left and right."
"Huh? You're right!"
Hundred and Scolseiji were still engrossed in their ice-cutting contest.
They kept yammering and stacking walls until Sir Dvorak bonked each on the head with his fist.
Federback crossed over the newly built walls.
There, a new village was taking shape.
It was space to settle the territory folk who had migrated from Levarb and Furosange.
At that moment.
"Federback."
A carriage racing down the new roadway suddenly halted, and Rorschach leaped out from inside.
"I was just on my way to find you. Big trouble."
"Bad news?"
"No? If anything, it's good?"
"Then why 'big trouble'?"
"It is big trouble. The Patriarch has declared for promotion."
"!"
Federback's eyes narrowed.
Promotion.
It meant raising one's noble rank.
The Rikeion Empire currently maintained a five-rank nobility system.
Duke, Marquis, Count, Viscount, Baron.
Generally, upon knighthood, one received quasi-baron treatment, but it wasn't an official title.
The Meursault House was currently a count family.
Patriarch Soleil held the count's rank.
'But originally, Meursault was a duke house. It was once even called a ducal royal house.'
Under imperial law, promotion was possible in only two cases.
Either earning merit and receiving the Emperor's permission for a rank increase, or requesting it for command authority during wartime.
In this case, Meursault seemed to be taking the latter path.
Federback nodded.
"To command Levarb and Furosange again—not to mention the North's five fingers like before—promotion is essential. Not back to duke, but at least marquis."
This wasn't just to lead the North's houses.
To block the barbarians forever eyeing the Empire's borders and the monsters spilling from humanity-inhospitable zones, massive military expansion and private soldier training were needed.
Under current imperial law, a count house's allowable forces were limited—woefully insufficient for Meursault to suppress the North's rabble.
Until now, lacking the military and finances befitting a marquis house, they'd voluntarily held off on promotion.
But now, there was no need.
Of course, with the Emperor who would grant it bedridden, a proper promotion wouldn't happen immediately.
Still, the promotion itself had a high chance of passing smoothly with time.
Federback asked.
"Investigations into the past incidents complete?"
"Yes. I haven't even washed properly in a full seven days because of it..."
Rorschach paused, swallowing a frustrated groan.
Come to think of it, her eyes were bloodshot like a rabbit's—she probably hadn't slept well.
"...Anyway. As ordered, I thoroughly re-investigated the two 'demotions' from the past."
The Meursault House had suffered rank drops twice: from duke to marquis, then marquis to count.
At Federback's command, Rorschach had meticulously retraced both events.
And.
"As expected, the Berserker Marquis House was behind them."
Federback nodded at Rorschach's words.
"The hypothesis holds."
"The proposition proven true. Do you remember 'Haralds Kvedi Merchant Association'?"
"I do. The group that came up during Shedioldis's interrogation."
"We found circumstantial evidence of them lobbying heavily everywhere to lower the Meursault House's rank. And as reported before, the real money behind Haralds Kvedi is the Berserker Marquis."
"Dig deeper. The ones running that merchant group aren't just the Berserker Marquis House."
"On that note, new intel. From Portia, the merchant we met recently... She said the Fianna Duke House backs Haralds Kvedi."
Fianna House.
A semi-independent wandering warrior clan renowned for ferocity even before the Rikeion Empire's founding.
A historic house granted dukedom for aiding the first Emperor in building the Empire.
But their once-lauded integrity was ancient history; now, they were the epitome of conservative self-preservationists.
Federback stroked his chin.
"So the Fianna Duke House behind the Berserker Marquis? By all appearances, they don't get along."
"Just surface rivalry. Harmony in war, war in harmony—common in politics."
"Doesn't matter. Can't leave either alone anyway."
The reason to crush them was clear.
The black magic organization Coquito, which Shedioldis and his underlings belonged to—traitors no better than Demon King puppets—were tied to both houses.
'Whether those houses know the Demon King backs the Coquito Church doesn't matter. Cut out thorns before they prick.'
On the surface, the Coquito Church might seem a mere doomsday cult.
But Federback didn't buy that houses like Berserker Marquis or Fianna Duke were simply duped by ordinary fanatics.
"They've had bad blood with Meursault House for ages anyway. Time to crush them both."
It was also essential bloodshed for humanity as a whole.
"...Only you could say that against a duke and marquis house."
As Rorschach stuck out her tongue in awe,
"Young Masteeeer!"
Knight came running from afar.
Hundred, Scolseiji, and others waved at Federback.
"91st wall construction done for today! Basically complete—complete!"
"We prepared meals from what we caught in the lake! A modest feast—please grace us!"
Among them were several knights from Levarb and Furosange.
They seemed fully integrated after the grueling project.
"Oh!? Lady Rorschach's here too!"
"Third Administrative Chief, join us! Before the food gets cold!"
"You two together make such a perfect picture! Total golden couple!"
At the knights' fussing, Rorschach's face flushed red.
"W-what perfect picture! I haven't washed properly—can't."
"Aw, come on! We're all the same! Kahahat—"
The knights surrounded Federback and Rorschach, cheering nonstop.
Rorschach covered her flushed cheeks with pale hands.
"Jeez. Fine, just one spoonful next to you while you eat..."
Right then.
Fwump—
Suddenly, a falcon descended from the sky.
It flew to Federback and dropped something at his feet.
...Plop!
It was a tightly sealed letter.
Federback picked it up and opened it.
"Faster than expected."
The letter's opening line read:
—To Young Master Federback of the Meursault House, your unworthy Sancho stakes his life—
It was the result from Sancho, who had gone to the capital.