Adaptation, Part 4
...This is dangerous.
Irene, who had ridden out on horseback, bit her lower lip as she watched the peasant bowing before her.
"S-so... anyway, Lord Edrin resolved the matter in the blink of an eye. He looked so dignified and benevolent. I truly believe the future of our fief is bright—"
"Yes, I see. Thank you."
Though she forced a smile, Irene could not bring herself to be pleased.
These people were merely ordinary peasants. There was no way they could understand the power struggles within the castle walls, or the tense tightrope walked by Irene and Edrin.
It was no different from how Irene didn't meticulously explain the ecological dynamics between goblins, wild beasts, and orc tribes when she went out to exterminate them.
To the peasants, nobles were simply nobles. Since they were siblings, they were undoubtedly praising Edrin under the simple assumption that praising one family member would please the other standing right in front of them.
But...
Irene could not smile.
Just what on earth is he doing out there?
She was in no position to confront him directly. The best she could do was tour the villages he had passed through, checking if he had made any blunders.
Of course, for someone of Edrin's status, treating commoners roughly wouldn't be considered a major flaw.
But if she could gather enough of those minor flaws, they would eventually become her leverage. Believing this, Irene had followed his trail to this nearby village.
Yet, those who had met him in person bowed their heads deeply, singing his praises.
It looked almost as if they had been bewitched by a cult, but she couldn't point that out.
If a crowd bowed before an altar of blood and skulls, it was the worship of a wicked cult. But if they bowed before the Emperor, it was proper imperial etiquette.
Bowing before Edrin was neither strange nor unusual. It was just that their loyalty was exceptionally deep.
Sigh...
It was no different in the city, let alone the villages.
Those who had met Edrin in person praised his wisdom and ability, revering him like devout believers.
It wasn't as if he had accomplished anything grand. He had merely handled mundane, trivial matters that the fiefdom's administration could have resolved on its own.
Even if corruption and crime existed, it was a stain on Arcteria that the entire territory had to bear together.
Yet, Edrin had cleverly avoided any blame. After all, he was the one who had been asleep, doing absolutely nothing for the past year.
It only looked as if the territory's problems were being solved the moment he woke up. It was no wonder his supporters were growing in number.
Damn it...
It couldn't be helped. During the time he was unconscious—no, even before that—the territory had been in chaos.
With monsters actively threatening the land, she couldn't afford to send her scarce vassals and knights to play judge in the villages.
Not everyone supports Edrin, but...
Those meeting Edrin for the first time had no doubt he had always been this way. However, those who hadn't met the changed Edrin, or those who knew his past, felt differently.
Those who knew the old, spoiled brat Edrin were not swayed by a few words of praise from others. They knew exactly what kind of person he was and how his mind worked.
Nevertheless, the fact remained that Irene was being pushed further into a corner.
"I understand. Good work."
It wasn't that her control was slipping.
Irene still held absolute command over the territory's knights, and many villages and merchants had been saved by her forces.
But if things continued like this, she would eventually be eclipsed by Edrin. Irene's worries deepened.
"L-Lady Irene! It's an emergency! You must return to the castle immediately!"
A mounted knight galloped toward Irene. She frowned.
"What is it?"
"C-Count Wilhelm... the Lord!"
"What?"
"He has passed away!"
Irene's face contorted in shock and grief.
Time was moving far too quickly.
"Gather the knights! As fast as possible!"
A knight wearing a red helm barked orders, his face twisted in a deep scowl as he urged the others forward.
"Wait, I thought there was no battle? Lady Irene isn't even here, so why go this far..."
"She must not find out about this. There's no time to explain. I'll tell you once we're mounted, so just get on your horse!"
"...What?"
No one present doubted their loyalty to Irene.
So when one of their fellow knights declared they had to act without Irene's knowledge, they instinctively realized something grave was afoot.
Twenty knights quickly armed themselves and mounted their steeds.
With mounted soldiers following to support them, a unit of dozens was formed in an instant.
"P-please explain! We have a right to know by now, don't we?"
Although some felt a sense of unease at the sudden mobilization, most assumed it was nothing out of the ordinary.
Rebellions, monster subjugations, and bandit raids happened all the time, and not everyone was privy to every report.
But that only applied when things were handled through proper, lawful channels.
"Unless you want your head chopped off for treason, move it!"
No matter how chaotic the territory was, knights mobilizing on their own authority was not something that could be easily overlooked.
Without a plausible excuse for their superiors, they would end up executed for treason.
"Lord Wilhelm has passed away."
"...What?"
"This is our last chance. If we had more time, maybe, but if the vassals gather now to elect a new lord, we stand no chance. Edrin, that despicable bastard, will take the throne!"
The knights were no fools. They had eyes to read the situation.
They simply lacked greed, and knew how to distinguish what to abandon from what to hold onto.
Irene viewed herself as just another knight, and the other knights accepted her as such.
Yet, she also knew all too well how much influence the noble vassals of the Silverline family wielded over the administration of the territory.
Those tight-knit bonds of status and blood were the very shield protecting the territory from foreign invasions.
The political power they secured through high society and the government offices they held were proof of the family's legitimacy.
"This is our last chance! By any means necessary, we must eliminate Edrin for Lady Irene's sake!"
But the knights thought differently. Their loyalty belonged entirely to Irene, and they did not care if Arcteria fractured slightly in the process of putting her on the lord's seat.
"I-is that even possible? Even if we succeed, we..."
"We'll have to see how it plays out... but we'll likely have to flee. Even if we succeed, don't expect honor or riches to await us."
"..."
"If anyone wants out, speak up now! You can report us, or even draw your sword against me—I'll gladly accept it! So, what will it be?"
It was assassination. An assassination far more extreme and dangerous than anything they had originally planned.
There was no time to disguise themselves as bandits, nor to coordinate with Selen, who was escorting Edrin. Irene's own knights were going to kill Edrin without a shred of justification.
Still... if we don't use a method this drastic, there's absolutely no way forward!
They knew this went against Irene's wishes. In fact, they had no intention of asking for her orders in the first place.
Irene was fundamentally a good person. Nobles, commoners, knights—as long as they were within the boundaries of Arcteria, she would protect them with a sense of duty.
Therefore, she would never abandon her knights.
If it were a matter of dying in a glorious war to protect their families and friends, that would be one thing. But she would never authorize a dishonorable assassination that would turn them into hunted fugitives.
"If anyone is afraid, speak up right now!"
"We are not afraid!"
"Good! We strike fast and annihilate the enemy! For Lady Irene!"
"FOR LADY IRENE!!!"
Not all the knights and soldiers present fully grasped the weight of those words before joining this madness. Yet, their loyalty to Irene was absolute.
Common soldiers and heavily armored knights moved as one.
They loved their homeland, they loved their comrades, and they loved their lord.
And to them, their 'homeland' was the ground Irene stood upon, their 'comrades' were those who followed her command, and their 'lord' was Irene herself.
They set out. Toward Edrin, who had not yet returned from his census survey.