A Poisoned Chalice Freely Offered (1)
The Vitagarte Grand Duchy is the northern shield that protects the empire. Even if they bear the derogatory nickname of turnip-eating wild boars. Yet the fact that the proud empire bothers to praise them as a "shield" is proof of their strength. Therefore, it was only natural that every successor who leads Vitagarte is a monster. They are strong. Transcendent might that bends armor like snapping wooden chopsticks. Powerful frost magic capable of turning the bones of burning giants into blocks of ice. Beings who wield both powers freely sweep across the battlefield. So the barbarians and monsters that target the north never know a peaceful day—only the day their heads will roll.
Compared to all previous successors, Lady Karalin bloomed her talent early. Though she was still young and it would have been unreasonable for her to take the field. The many tutors who instructed her unanimously praised her as possessing "unprecedented talent." Even so, the lady never grew arrogant. She strove to acquire the character and knowledge expected of a ruler, a rare talent in both letters and arms. She was also the only beloved daughter of the current grand duke, who had long struggled to produce an heir. Thus, no one could dispute that she would one day inherit the north.
"The lady's procession is here!"
Look at them. Even without any planned parade, the moment her presence appears, citizens drop to their knees in reverence.
"Yohan, they are merely showing respect to me, so do not be flustered. Stand tall with your chest out."
"Yes, my lady."
"No matter what anyone says, you are my retainer."
In the past, I had been dying of cold when Lady Karalin picked me up. A few days later, once I had recovered, she asked whether I wished to remain in the castle a little longer to be observed, or whether I would return to search for my family. I had no family. More than that, I had no real choice at all. I wanted to repay her kindness. No—more than that, I already knew her fate. Though she now appeared relaxed and dignified as Vitagarte's sole successor, I knew the countless misfortunes that would soon befall her. I knew she would fall, become a witch, and descend into hell. Even knowing that hideous future, I could not turn my back on the first person in this world who had shown me kindness and push her into the abyss. I wanted to save her. So I chose to stay in the castle. After all, there was nowhere lower left for me to fall. I only wished to remain by her side, doing the lowest work in the lowest place.
It happened on one such ordinary day. As usual, the lady was practicing her riding in the garden. Suddenly, for reasons unknown, the horse became violently agitated.
"Neigh—!"
"W-what is this? Kyaa—!"
The horse thrashed desperately to throw the lady from its back and even charged straight into the barbed-wire fence outside the garden.
Thud—.
With iron thorns now dangling from its body, the horse only grew more frenzied. Looking back, the lady's strength might have been enough to rein it in, but doing so would have torn the animal's neck apart. Whether she refused to harm it or simply could not think clearly in the moment, she could only cling on desperately. Unless she fell, stopping the beast was nearly impossible.
At the time, I had been a short distance away, clearing horse dung from the path—the job I held then. The instant I saw her peril, my body moved on its own.
"My lady!"
Fear of the mad horse? No—saving her mattered more. Fortunately, I was not too late. I caught her just as she fell.
"Kyaa—! Yohan?!"
"My lady! Are you hurt?!"
"Thanks to you, I'm fine, but—"
"Please wait. I'll handle this!"
I snatched the reins and forced my way into the center of the horse's wild thrashing. It was madness, I admit—an act that invited being kicked to death. But I had a reason. I needed to remove what was driving the horse insane. I seized the barbed wire wrapped around its body.
Clang—!!
The wire shattered into nothing. Thanks to the epic skill I had possessed since falling into this world—the Ghost That Eats Iron. With the wire gone and no rider on its back, the horse calmed at once. The lady was unharmed.
"Yohan, that…"
"What is it, my lady?"
"Thank you. That took real courage. If not for you, I might have been badly hurt."
"It was nothing, my lady. I only did what I had to do."
Of course, my hands were torn and bloodied from gripping the wire.
"…Heavens. Look at your hands. Give them here."
The lady personally treated my wounds. That incident was how I became her retainer. From then on, she always kept me at her side. There were complaints, of course—voices saying she was too indulgent with an unknown commoner boy. But as I said, she was now Vitagarte's one and only successor. She possessed both the power and authority to silence such discontent.
"Well, it was fortunate timing."
A few more months and even she would no longer have been able to keep someone like me close.
"My lady, there is a splendid procession gathered before the castle."
"Hm…? That must be…"
"…It seems the new madam has finally arrived."
"Ah. So she has. Earlier than expected, but since it is not winter, the journey from outside would not have taken long."
"Shall we return to the castle at once?"
"Yes. I cannot allow my stepmother to be welcomed modestly in my absence."
The current grand duke's new wife—Lady Karalin's stepmother, Shagalor—was coming. Once she arrived, everything the lady possessed would be stripped away and her downfall would begin. In a way, that was a relief. At least then there would be nothing left for me to lose.
Shagalor was a bitch. Not merely a bitch, but the ultimate, omega-level bitch among bitches. Barely past twenty, she possessed the devastating beauty of golden hair that anyone would acknowledge. She knew exactly what weapon she held and the ambition she intended to realize with it. Reading the weakness of Lexus von Vitagarte, the Tiger of the North, was therefore simple. His weakness was women.
"Darling, your eyes are clouded with worry… yet how beautiful they are. You have been forgetting something for a long time, have you not?"
"Oh, Shagalor…! My beautiful Shagalor."
Though it was a political marriage with a forty-year age gap, she accepted the old man's body without the slightest distaste and gradually brought him under her control. It was all part of her struggle to obtain what she desired.
Knock, knock—
"Father, it is Karalin. I have come to speak of state affairs…"
There was no answer—only the unmistakable sounds of pleasure echoing from beyond the door.
"My lady. Another time."
"Yes… It seems Mother is quite unwell."
"Hmm. I rather doubt that is the case…"
This pattern continued for months. With no one attending to governance, the castle fell into paralysis and the outer defenses weakened. Yet Vitagarte gained something in return: a new successor.
Living in such lust-soaked indulgence, the birth of new life was only natural.
Waaah—!!
A lusty infant's cry.
"Congratulations, Madam Shagalor. You have given birth to a son!"
"Thank you, midwife…"
"Splendid, splendid, Shagalor! You have accomplished what even my late first wife could not. This child's name shall be… Abel. Abel von Vitagarte!"
For decades, Lexus had produced only a single daughter despite countless attempts. Obtaining a son was therefore an event of supreme importance to him—something even Lady Karalin's own mother had failed to achieve.
"Karalin, come and hold your younger brother. You will be seeing him for a long time, after all… Uhu hu."
"……"
In other words, it was the moment the succession of Vitagarte was shaken to its foundations. The lady understood this perfectly. Vitagarte followed the principle of male primogeniture. She had become successor both because of her outstanding ability and because no suitable heir had existed. Now that Abel had been born, if Shagalor whispered sweet poison into the grand duke's ear and secured Abel's position, it would no longer be impossible for the boy to inherit the duchy. That had been Shagalor's goal from the very beginning. After all, there was only one reason a young and beautiful woman would marry the aged monster of the north.
"Do not worry, Yohan. The successor will not change. I do not know how Father will judge the matter… but if I continue to strive as I always have, everything will be fine."
One day Lady Karalin said those words to me. She was wrong. This world was the world of the game I had played. After pouring thousands of hours into it, every strategy, history, and setting was etched into my mind. So I could say with certainty: the moment Shagalor entered the territory, the lady losing her position as successor was already a foregone conclusion.
'No. Abel will soon replace the lady as successor.'
Yet how could I speak such cruel words aloud? I had watched every day how desperately she worked to remain worthy of the title.
Still…
'It does not matter.'
At least in the future I envisioned, even if Abel seized the succession and Shagalor grew arrogant, it would change nothing. For now, everything happening inside this territory was merely a game played only among them. Until the time I waited for arrived, I would endure beside the lady until our teeth shattered. We would see who laughed at the very end.