Chapter 25
Chapter 25
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 25
Chapter Title: Sad Misunderstanding (1)
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Alhena was an exceptional merchant. And exceptional merchants turned their heads quickly.
"Ahaha, th-that's impossible. Even rotten, she's still of golden blood. No matter how tempting the Prince Consort title might be, she'd never even joke about having a child with a barbarian... What are you laughing at!? Meb! Don't hug the barbarian! It's making me feel weird too!"
Denial.
"Do you think such vulgar threats would work on me? I can find ways to neutralize the twin link anytime. There are super-grade beasts on the continent besides that black dragon, just like last time... What? You think I can find one within ten months? That's... um, why ten months? No way, you're not saying..."
Anger.
"A-alright! Let's talk this out rationally. Barbarian... no, Ivar? If you promise not to lay a finger on Meb, I'll let you conduct business in about half the North..."
"Eek!? D-don't tickle me!"
Bargaining.
"No, everything I've built would crumble over a single word from a barbarian. I couldn't mingle in high society, attend auctions, or even stand properly during important meetings if sensations got shared right in front of everyone..."
Depression.
"Um..."
"What?"
And acceptance.
"Please don't..."
"..."
"I beg you."
In a short time, Alhena had gone through all five stages of grief. With those final words, she unilaterally cut off the communication. Whatever she was imagining, her face looked ready to explode by the end.
"Is that good enough?"
"Yes, more than enough."
"I was hoping for a more solid surrender."
"When a merchant begs instead of negotiating, it's basically surrender. She'll be too busy shaking in her boots to touch the North for a while."
With a three-inch tongue, I'd reaped an absurdly huge reward. Sure, it sacrificed my social face a bit, but it wasn't far from my existing image. To them, I was just another barbarian either way.
That's why such a ridiculous threat worked. Ignorance breeds fear.
Meb getting pregnant was unrealistic. To become the Imperial Vault Keeper, she'd eventually have to return to the capital and couldn't withdraw from high society. It would be a huge obstacle to her guild master duties right away.
Meb herself probably knew that full well. Abusing the twin link like this would lead not to Alhena's ruin, but mutual destruction for the sisters.
"Hmm, shall we start by slamming her pinky toe in the door crack? She wakes at five a.m., so from four-thirty, pull for seven minutes a day..."
She knew, but the pent-up resentment from years of torment outweighed it. Understandable. Half a lifetime practically imprisoned in the mansion, threatened with death multiple times.
But piling more punishment on Alhena, who'd already tucked tail and fled, wasn't wise. Even rats bite cats when cornered.
"That tickling earlier was good too. Our sensitive spots seem similar—behind the ears, underarms... What do you think? An hour more?"
"Meb."
"Yes...?"
I faintly drew upon Ancestral Power. I couldn't sever the twin link completely, but temporary neutralization was possible.
Just like how Kael tried to kill Meb where the black dragon's energy lingered. Activating my seventh rune would block Meb's sensations from reaching Alhena.
In the frozen air, I slowly placed my hand on her head. A light stroke tousled her neatly combed hair. Meb offered no resistance, just swallowed hard while I smoothed her bangs.
"Don't ruin the grand plan. If you want revenge, you can have it later to your heart's content."
As long as I was around, she was safe—so focus on the guild operations first. If she really wanted to settle things with Alhena, I could hand her a club under my supervision in the capital someday. Low chance it'd happen, but it'd be a sight.
As I withdrew my hand, she collapsed. Her legs had given out. I grabbed her nape just in time to keep her from hitting the floor. Her slightly parted lips and dazed eyes looked somewhat entranced.
"You okay?"
"Th-this is more dangerous than I thought."
She wore a magic tool laden with all sorts of spells, but Meb was still just a civilian. Her body wasn't as tough as Serath's.
I'd experienced it once in the cave, so I thought it'd be fine. Need to be more careful from now on.
"Guess the mana was too strong for you to handle."
"No, it's not that—couldn't breathe, couldn't twitch a finger... Eek! Feels like it'd condition me the wrong way..."
"Condition?"
"N-never mind! Time to work. Appraise the treasures first. Who knows what tricks my sister pulled, so be extra thorough."
Fortunately, she shook it off quickly. A merchant's posture: repay what you receive, be it goods or grudges.
I'd fully—if temporarily—resolved her long-standing feud with Alhena. In return, Meb looked at me with renewed vigor.
"Anyway, I'll do my best for your grand plan too, Ivar."
"Huh?"
...My grand plan?
*
"We're the Schmidt Merchant Company from the Pharon region. We've heard the rumors about the Great Warlord."
"We pay respects to the Ruler of the Plains."
This wasn't what I meant. The true meaning of my words...
Not long after Meb left for the empire to exchange gems and launch full guild operations, merchant caravans visiting the plains for trade began greeting me. They bowed as if meeting the emperor.
At first, I thought they were just making connections. But when they offered tribute and luxuries, I realized something was wrong.
I denied it, just like Alhena.
"You're misunderstanding. First off, I'm not the Ruler of the Plains."
"Does that mean... the North, no, the entire empire...!"
"Shut your mouth, idiot! That's exactly right!"
It worsened. To imperial citizens, I apparently looked like an invader about to trample their country soon. I sat the Schmidt merchants down and asked what rumors were circulating. Had to grasp the situation first.
"V-various things."
"Not just one?"
"Yes. From the tale of the Ruler of the Plains sending back the Moonlit Flower of Frost to her garden after claiming the Prince Consort title, then going to pluck his own flower..."
Moonlit Flower of Frost referred to Serath, who could enter the Flower Garden. In other words, some people feared I'd swallow the empire whole, just as Kael worried.
"Especially recently, among us merchants, the rumor that the Ruler of the Plains impregnated the Golden Lotus with a single word."
"Me? Alhena?"
"Yes. Sightings of her suddenly covering her mouth mid-meal and leaving, or avoiding tight dresses at parties."
That was purely psychological. After chewing bland plains meat, Meb was back in the empire gorging freely, right?
She seemed to take it seriously, though. No plans to correct it now—maybe later.
Anyway, Schmidt Merchant Company. They knew capital rumors, so good intel network. Worth remembering.
"Got it. Safe travels."
"We are humbled by the Ruler of the Plains' vast mercy..."
"Don't."
"Yes, sir."
As I sent off the groveling merchants, Grak beside me snickered. He rode Karangal with me toward the Great Rock Mountain.
"You're popular, Ivar. Where's that greenhorn who shivered before the Winter Witch?"
"No memory of shivering. That's your story, buried in snow."
"You really planning to take those rats' land?"
"No way. Only interested in the plains."
Even as Great Warlord, things flowing my way were just a handful amid the world's currents. I stayed still, yet people kept framing me oddly.
Invading the empire. Plucking all the empire's fairest flowers. Breeding Uni and Satti for a new super-grade beast rivaling top tiers. Everything but the last was a sad misunderstanding.
"The Golden Edict's lifted, easing tensions with the imperial military. No reason to reignite it."
This winter, no war needed. I'd made Meb guild master.
Economic self-sufficiency like farming or commerce wasn't immediate, but the plains tribes wouldn't starve. So I could focus elsewhere.
"Why the Great Rock Mountain?"
"To get stronger."
"For real?"
Grak looked at me like I'd lost my mind. But dead serious. Sure, after the black dragon, what was left? But three plains lords remained.
The hard-won rune was half-baked. Dragon Tongue, costing lifespan, wasn't freely usable. Without Meb falling for me, I couldn't have sunk Alhena.
When brains ran short, raw power was easiest.
Eighth rune would be nice, but I'd try everything first. Already prepped one before coming.
We arrived at the Great Rock Mountain. Before the sheer cliff—not the Karangal path—I handed Grak the reins.
"Watch Satti."
"You?"
"Climbing bare-handed."
A rock face too tough for axes. A fall meant severe injury, plus flying eagle-like beasts eyed prey.
But insufficient. This alone wouldn't push body and mind to extremes.
"Know this, Grak? Someone climbs this mountain every morning. Bare-handed."
"Who?"
"Olgen. Harald's first wife."
I gazed wistfully toward where the merchants had gone. Soon, a dust cloud rose beyond the horizon.
"Recommended a ninth wife to Harald this morning. Bailish Tribal Chief's daughter, Raggedfoot Brothers' sister."
Diplomatic masterstroke. Frost Scale Gorge would become a bustling trade route; allying with the resident Bailish Tribe was ideal.
"Sat those two by the gorge lake, said I'd bless them in the Great Warlord's name if needed."
"Ivar, you don't mean...!"
One issue: that vow was staked on my life. Imperials had sad misunderstandings. I wasn't the Ruler of the Plains. No one could be—but the closest was right here.
Rooooar—.
From the dust cloud, black mana shimmered like heat haze, bringing darkness to the plains. The reaper came. In her hand, no scythe—a sharply honed skewer.
"See you alive, Grak."
As I greeted him, Grak was already spurring two Karangals up the mountain at full gallop.
Soon, the terror of death enveloped me.