Chapter 88
Translator: Ace
Chapter: 88
Chapter Title: Northern Honey Wine (2)
Whiiiiiing―
The blizzard outside the window was growing fiercer.
Soleil, patriarch of the Meursault House.
He sat before the fireplace, lost in thought.
"……."
Soleil was originally a margrave.
The Meursaults traced their lineage to a warrior from the party that felled the Demon King long ago, a storied house known since the Mythic Era as the iron-blooded sword clan of the North.
They had stood firm as the northern bulwark, repelling monsters and barbarians, earning autonomy over countless ages.
The Emperor himself had granted these northern frontier lands to the Meursaults as a fief, and within them, they wielded supreme administrative, military, and judicial authority. Truly, the Meursaults were the unchallenged overlords of the North.
"But that holds only in the North."
The Meursault House's raison d'être was to suppress the North's monsters and barbarians.
The vast autonomy of frontier lord houses existed solely for that purpose.
"If the Meursaults meddle in the power struggles of the capital…… we'd forfeit the very justification for all that autonomy we've enjoyed."
Soleil stroked his chin.
He had sworn absolute loyalty to the current Emperor—a steadfast knight.
But that wise and benevolent sovereign had long since become a vegetable, bedridden.
The Emperor, descendant of the Mythic Era Hero.
A iron-willed ruler expected to live three centuries easily, struck down in his seventies.
"The Emperor has too many heirs. Blood will flow, and fiercely."
With no clear successor named, the situation was dire.
Dozens of factions—imperial in-laws, guardians—lurked inside and outside the Empire.
Most commanded formidable military might.
"Which side to back. That's the crux."
Soleil sighed deeply.
In most fights, sitting out was wisest.
But not all.
Sometimes, neutrality itself picked a side.
"If you must fight whether you join or not…… better to dive in from the start."
There was no true neutrality in this world.
Even if there were, human judgment couldn't pinpoint it perfectly.
One had to lean somewhere.
All the more for the patriarch leading a behemoth like the Meursaults—he needed wise choices.
…Crack!
A thick log split in two, flames roaring high.
Soleil closed his eyes, bathed in the firelight.
"……A great heart finds peace always; a small one, endless anxiety. Broaden your thoughts, and paths to action appear."
When choices weighed heavy, he recalled his ancestors' teachings.
Soleil pictured his father's broad back from childhood.
And soon.
"……."
He knew which path to take.
The next morning.
Though the blizzard raged on, Torch Castle buzzed with activity.
Days after the Purosange battle, Federback was assembling another expedition.
Its goal unannounced, but with Federback leading, knights volunteered in droves.
All yearned to join the footsteps of the boy hero echoing across the North.
"Queenbits."
At Federback's call, Queenbits's ears perked from afar.
"Study the pattern of Shedioldis's body reconstruction closely. It'll help complete the Garmelda Equation."
"Already on it. It's incredible. Every dissection yields answers I couldn't find alone in three years. This'll slash research time dramatically."
"I'll look forward to results after this expedition. Something substantial."
"Um, hey……"
"?"
Queenbits stopped Federback as he turned to leave.
After hesitating, she spoke.
"It's nothing big. Just…… come back safe."
"……? Got it."
Federback tilted his head once, then wheeled his horse away.
Then, someone fell in beside him.
"Young Master, you're awfully popular."
A man with gray hair and orange eyes winked with a grin.
Scolseiji Meursault.
A steadfast, loyal collateral knight who'd devoted his life to the Meursaults.
By blood, Federback's tenth cousin or so.
He'd briefly aided Federback during the Levarb subjugation.
Having grown fond during the Torch water source purge, Scolseiji cheekily chimed in.
"The realm's fairest beauties gaze only at you, sir. As a man, I'm envious."
"Beauties? Who?"
"Who else? Queenbits and Lorschach, obviously!"
Haundid popped up beside Scolseiji.
No telling when they'd bonded, but they trailed Federback persistently.
"It's unfair, Young Master. I've never even dated at my age."
"Relative deprivation's tanking the knights' morale. Time for emergency measures."
Federback's eyebrow twitched.
"Emergency measures?"
"Among the recent migrants from Torch, there's an all-female vigilante group. Not Purosange Rangers, but fierce fighters who racked up kills against monsters during the move."
"Get to the point."
"Well…… how about arranging a group blind date with our Meursault knights? Heh heh."
Haundid rubbed his hands, fawning.
"We're dying of loneliness from endless war. I'd love a sweetheart too."
"We wanna try dating!"
The knights bellowed.
Federback's brow furrowed in mild irritation.
"Dying of loneliness?"
"Yes!"
"A knight dying for such frivolity would be a huge loss."
"Right?"
Scolseiji and Haundid's lips curled slyly.
Federback pointed at them alternately.
"Not dying of loneliness—you'll die in battle. Both of you, drafted for the expedition."
"Gasp!?"
"Chattering nonsense like that means you're brimming with energy. Vent it on the battlefield."
Federback spat coldly and rode off.
Scolseiji and Haundid stood glumly.
……But.
"See? Told you—this gets us on Federback's expedition."
"You're a genius! I'll be right by Young Master's side again."
"Phew, his fame grows, harder to stay close."
"Tons of rivals. Gotta survive like this. Equal skill? Social savvy wins."
"Heh heh heh—We're the boy hero's left and right arms!"
Surprisingly, the knights perched atop Federback's head.
Passing knight Dvorzak tsked.
"Tsk tsk—Young folks chase luck. Earn recognition with skill."
"How, with no chance to show it? Young Master finishes everything solo."
"Quiet, you fools! Federback plans to subjugate Levarb again tonight—prepare thoroughly! Don't drag his heels!"
"Yes sir! On it!"
Meursault knights bustled.
Thus, Federback was already their pride.
Just following him repaid years of knighthood struggles.
Levarb House's fortress.
Thick frost encased ancient bricks, standing sentinel for centuries.
At its heart, a tower pierced the sky, tip lost in blizzard and clouds.
The gate: sturdy conifer, iron-studded, barred with steel.
Granite floors sprouted ice stalagmites, ominous and lethal.
As tall and sturdy as Purosange's Torch Castle…… yet new lord Brayvi Levarb hid his anxiety poorly.
"Why no word from those Purosange bastards? Why haven't the Torch envoys returned? Damn it!"
Brayvi.
After Viscount Bargo's detention by Meursaults, the house fell to him, the eldest son.
Brayvi's jowls quivered.
He gnawed his thumbnail, muttering.
"Arrogant Meursault scum. They'll pay for scorning Levarb. Thanks for ousting Father…… but the house crumbling? Pointless conquest. Damn. To court the capital, those Meursaults must vanish fast……"
Then.
Knock knock knock―
Someone rapped on Brayvi's office door.
"Come in!"
"Ex, excuse me."
A gaunt bald man entered—Habu, Brayvi's retainer knight.
Brayvi snapped.
"Well!?"
"That is……."
Habu spread documents.
"As planned. Meursaults mobilized into Purosange territory."
"And? Annihilated?"
"No word yet. But obviously, right? Purosange Rangers are elite. Plus that fearsome mage."
"Yeah? Had to be."
Brayvi nodded.
They'd coordinated with Purosange already.
Habu added.
"Don't worry. We have an inside man—Knight Jono."
"Jono? Who's that?"
"Your cousin, sir. Viscount Bargo's nephew."
"Ah, right. That idiot. Trembling behind curtains while a corkscrew stuck in Father's neck."
"He's ashamed. Volunteered as envoy to Purosange to atone."
"Rat-like, good at spying."
Brayvi nodded.
But unease lingered.
"Still, no contact. If they'd killed or captured that cocky Federback as planned, a messenger bird should've come."
"War's busy."
"Can't wait. No more."
"Pardon? Young—er, Patriarch. What're you……?"
"Patriarch, not Young Master!"
Brayvi slapped Habu's cheek, bellowing.
"Ready five hundred troops. I'll march on Meursault's main castle myself."
"Even so, that's too much."
"Doesn't matter. Meursaults are probably wiped by Purosange now. I'm raiding an empty house."
"We don't have five hundred. Federback wrecked finances; cut troops. Scrape together, barely two hundred."
"The mercenaries we bought recently!"
"Cheap hires—peasants who can't even shoot straight. Slash-and-burn farmers till lately."
"Doesn't matter. Bodies to fill ranks. Meursaults: annihilated or remnants. I'll crush 'em. Claim the biggest glory."
"Hmm, could rescue detained Viscount Bargo from their castle."
"Perfect. Then I'm rightfully Levarb patriarch. Heh heh heh―"
Brayvi laughed.
"Spot on, heh heh heh―"
Habu echoed his lord.
"Heh heh heh heh―"
"Heh heh heh―"
As the men cackled sinisterly.
"Patriarch, visitor at the gate."
A maid called from outside.
Habu replied.
"Patriarch's in strategy meeting! Tell 'em wait!"
"Urgent business."
"Argh! What's more urgent than strategy? Who dares!?"
Habu roared; the maid answered puzzledly.
"From Meursault House…… Federback."