Chapter 205
Chapter 205
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 205
Chapter Title: Ember in the Furnace Remains Unchanged (3)
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Duncan Seymour Tudor was noble-born from the start.
He was a man who could have become a king of a nation had he not personally relinquished the throne, and even after stepping away, he commanded the respect and admiration of countless as Tuton's sole duke and the kingdom's pinnacle knight.
No one would call him a mere fortune-teller.
Had it not been for his niece—a princess he cherished like the apple of his eye—he never would have come all this way to a distant foreign land as a mere envoy.
Of course, it wasn't just affection for his niece that made him accept the envoy's mission.
Tuton, once the hegemon of the western continent, was now fading day by day, its past glories lost amid the checks from neighboring states backed by the Empire.
The Empire's civil war had eased that pressure somewhat, but it wouldn't last forever.
Left unchecked, glorious Tuton would devolve into just another middling nation in the west.
The Tudor royal family had pulled out all the stops to find a turning point.
One such effort was forging an alliance with the Leonberg Kingdom—and the reason Duncan Seymour Tudor had journeyed to this far-off land.
But he had no intention of blindly committing to an alliance.
First, he needed to confirm if the Leonberg Kingdom even qualified.
That was one of the tasks the king had given him.
Duncan surveyed the kingdom with clear, unwavering eyes. The reality he encountered was utterly disappointing.
The harbor was cramped, with only a handful of ships coming and going each day. The roads were poor, the cities rundown. The nobles he passed resembled rural village chiefs, and the citizens looked as ragged as slash-and-burn farmers.
It was hard to believe such a country had triumphed over the Empire in war.
The only saving grace was the impressive spirit of the knights and soldiers who greeted them.
Even that paled compared to the knights under his command and Tuton's elite troops.
He couldn't tell if the Empire had been weaker than expected, or if the Leonberg Kingdom hid some hidden strength he didn't know about.
Everywhere he went was a letdown, but he didn't abandon his scouting.
Victory over a rapacious Empire couldn't be chalked up to mere luck.
There had to be something he didn't know.
Yet as he traversed the kingdom, Duncan found nothing of the sort.
The Leonberg Kingdom was exactly as rumored: a poor frontier state at the continent's northernmost edge.
He was deeply disappointed, even doubting the worth of his envoy mission.
But that judgment had come too soon, it seemed.
He realized it the moment he saw the kingdom's knights and soldiers welcoming the envoy delegation.
The knights' auras were impeccably pure, without a trace of impurity. The soldiers' morale was sharp as a blade yet perfectly disciplined.
They were worlds apart from the Leonbergers Duncan had seen so far.
For the first time, he felt genuine interest in the kingdom.
He unleashed the aura he'd been holding back.
On a small scale, to probe their depths; on a larger one, to highlight the gap between Tuton and Leonberg, gaining the upper hand in future talks.
But the results were underwhelming despite his efforts.
He succeeded in demonstrating his superiority, but that was it.
The kingdom's knights showed no sign of buckling under his overwhelming pressure. Their breaths and auras merely wavered briefly.
And even that was fleeting.
One female knight, her womanly grace peeking through her full plate armor;
One knight exuding an oddly decadent air.
The kingdom's Quad Chain Knights stepped forward, absorbing his aura with their bodies, allowing the other knights to regain their composure.
This time, even Duncan couldn't help but express a modicum of admiration.
The courage to step up without hesitation against an overwhelming gap, and the unflinching aura holding firm—that left quite an impression on him.
But what truly drew his great admiration wasn't the Quad Chain Knights.
It was the young man standing beneath the golden lion banner symbolizing the Leonberger royals.
His skill as a knight was unremarkable, but his presence rivaled the Quad Chain Knights all the same.
And his aura—how pure and pristine it was.
Without exchanging a single word, Duncan already felt fondness for him.
He was certain this was the famed young lion of the north.
His aura and appearance were almost too gentle for a lion, but battlefield reputations were made by others anyway, so it hardly mattered.
The fact that the Leonberger royals had such a figure thrilled him immensely.
Having confirmed the kingdom had some backbone after all, it would have been a disaster if the man worthy of his niece turned out to be a letdown despite his fame.
"Hm?"
Duncan, lips curling in satisfaction, suddenly shuddered as if struck by lightning.
Beyond the crowd welcoming the envoy, from the direction of the castle gates, an monstrous aura approached.
It felt like a massive fortress had abruptly risen before him, or like tens of thousands of troops charging out of nowhere.
Duncan swore he'd never encountered such an aura in his life.
Goosebumps erupted across his skin. Every hair stood on end, a chill racing down his spine.
Suppressing a groan rising to his jaw, he sought the source.
It wasn't hard.
That colossal presence was impossible to hide.
A man pushed through the crowd and stood beneath the Leonberg royal banner.
"Ah..."
In that instant, Duncan realized.
The one he'd thought was the north's young lion was merely another Leonberger royal.
The true lion was elsewhere.
His mane-like hair whipped in the wind, his aura ferocious as a beast's.
The man curled his lips.
It was a savage smile, devoid of any goodwill—like a lion's.
Formal greetings were exchanged through an interpreter.
In the meantime, I stared piercingly at Duncan Seymour Tudor. He met my gaze without flinching.
He truly lived up to the title of the west's greatest knight.
Among the ring knights I'd seen, he was the strongest. Perhaps even on the verge of the Penta realm.
No doubt few ring knights could beat him. At least, none I'd met.
Under different circumstances, in another place, I probably would have shown at least some respect for his achievements.
But not now.
To me at this moment, Duncan Seymour Tudor wasn't a knight of lofty heights—he was just a rude guest terrorizing his host, forgetting the basics of etiquette.
And that wasn't all.
Another key figure in the Tuton envoy—the Tudor royal family's eldest daughter—hadn't even shown her face.
They'd sent advance notice claiming exhaustion from the long journey, but it felt more like a one-sided declaration.
It grated on me.
Both the knight's rudeness and the envoy's subtle disdain for the kingdom irked my nerves equally.
My gut boiled, but I tamped down the anger for now.
I couldn't just chase off alliance-seeking guests without a word.
Not even if those "guests" were nasty pieces of work threatening their host.
"Brother. I'll take it from here."
Thankfully, Maximilian picked up on my mood and offered to guide the envoy himself.
Duncan glanced at me before following Maximilian away.
"Hah."
I let out a scoff at Duncan Seymour Tudor's arrogance to the end.
"Let's see how long you keep up that haughtiness."
Mark my words: sooner or later, he'd pay for today's arrogance.
I'd make sure of it.
Relieved I didn't have to deal with entertaining the envoy, I headed to the palace, consoling myself.
But it might have been better to guide them after all.
"Your Highness. Isn't it time you started acting like the crown prince?"
No sooner had I arrived than Marquis Villepelle ambushed me with a tirade.
Why leave without warning whether going or coming? Did I know how much he and Maximilian had worried? Didn't I realize how crucial this envoy was to the kingdom?
The nagging went on endlessly.
"I left a note, at least."
"That note with no date or details?"
My lame excuse only earned more scolding.
After that, I clamped my mouth shut and waited for the Grand Marshal to calm down.
"Sigh. So what exactly kept you away during this critical time?"
After a long lecture, he sighed and asked.
"Montpellier."
Montpellier had fled north with the royals during the capital raid. Everyone else returned, but he alone stayed behind.
"Come to think of it, I'd completely forgotten about him."
My sudden absence was to fetch Montpellier.
"Why that guy all of a sudden...?"
"He's such a slimy bastard, I can't relax leaving him where I can see him."
The marquis's face twisted in shock at my words.
"Of all times, for something so trivial...?"
He scolded that for such a minor errand, I could've just sent someone to bring Montpellier back.
So I revealed the real purpose.
"No. That would've been too late."
"You think a guy who's been fine would suddenly run off?"
"Not that, but we wouldn't make the deadline."
I explained why I'd fetched Montpellier at this precise moment.
"I'm planning to hand the Tuton envoy over to him."
Marquis Villepelle stared at me like I'd spouted nonsense and asked what the hell I meant.
What about that worm made me trust him with such an important kingdom affair?
I replied indifferently.
"You've already forgotten? Until recently, he was one of the Empire's few marquises."
"What does that matter?"
"Means he knows a ton of valuable info."
"If that's all, just wring it out of him and let someone else negotiate."
I was pleased the marquis now knew exactly how to handle Montpellier.
But that aside, my view differed.
"No. I've already decided to put him on this."
The marquis asked why.
"He's the best at wheedling concessions out of people while strutting around."
In the kingdom, Montpellier got kicked around everywhere, but he wasn't incompetent—quite capable, in fact.
Provided no swords were involved, when it came to achieving things through words, he was unmatched in my experience.
He'd nearly toppled the kingdom root and branch with that silver tongue before.
"I want to bash his head in thinking of him as an enemy, but as an ally, he's surprisingly useful."
From an Empire perspective, he was a proven talent.
Plus, with nowhere else to go, betrayal was unlikely. His only path was to rack up merits here and secure a place.
"Bet he'll see this as his big shot and go all-in."
Imagining the Tuton envoy's guts churning dealing with that loathsome Montpellier made me want to chuckle already.
But unlike me, Marquis Villepelle looked thoroughly displeased. He clearly hated using Montpellier for something so vital.
Still, he didn't outright oppose—just suggested assigning Countess Siolin Kirguyen to oversee him and guard against mishaps.
I hadn't planned to leave it solely to Montpellier anyway, so I gladly accepted.
As we wrapped up, Adelia peeked through the door.
"Your Highness. Let me fix your hair."
Come to think of it, riding the wyrm had left it a mess.
"Please do."
With my permission, Adelia deftly combed it out.
While she worked, someone came calling.
Arwen.
"Your Highness. If you'd at least tipped me off, the fuss wouldn't have been this big."
Her gaze fixed on Adelia, a rare hurt flickering in her eyes.
She seemed miffed that I'd slipped away without a word to her but taken Adelia along.
"Next time, you come too."
Arwen replied coolly.
"Properly, you should promise not to vanish without notice and trouble everyone next time."
She fought to suppress her upturned lips.
Her dishonest reaction just made me laugh.
"I'll keep that in mind too."
With her mood softened, Arwen left. Next was Kals.
"Your Highness! Am I really your knight?! If you're going to keep ditching me like this, just dismiss me!"
Having been sidelined multiple times already, Kals's face brimmed with genuine grievance as he vented.
"I promise no more of that."
I soothed him too.
Then Ilai showed up.
"Want me to soothe you too?"
"What do you mean...? I thought you'd be back after everything, but you timed it perfectly."
"Picking a fight?"
"Me? Never. Just glad you're back."
"Spit it with a straight face."
After a few perfunctory words, Ilai shut up.
Then he rolled his eyes and asked.
"By the way, Sir Arwen..."
"Out!"
I shooed him away mercilessly.
As that happened, Maximilian visited my room.
"Brother! Brother! Brother!"
I asked the incessantly calling Maximilian.
"Here to nag too?"
He shook his head.
"I resented how unpredictable you were before you left. But now it's fine. A bit late, but you made it back on schedule."
"Not curious why I went north?"
"If I needed to know, you'd have told me already."
His compliance tickled me oddly.
"Brought back that Montpellier stuck in the north."
I explained to Maximilian how I'd use him. He raised no questions.
Just gave a thumbs-up, calling it a great idea.
His unwavering loyalty brought a smile. Feeling good, I shared another purpose I hadn't told the marquis.
"Wasn't the only thing I brought from the north."
Maximilian's eyes sparkled expectantly.
"The real prize is this."
Feeling smug, I pulled out a large chest and opened it for him.
"This is..."
Maximilian's eyes widened.
Recalling the arrogant envoy, I snickered.
"Let's see if they stay so cocky after seeing this."