39
Chapter 39
Meanwhile, in the Grand Duchy of Kronor in the North.
The former Grand Duke of Kronor had been defeated by the Crown Prince, losing both his territory and his men.
As a result, the retainers' trust in the Grand Duke had hit rock bottom.
While trust in a leader was important in a centralized society, it was incomparably more vital in a feudal one. In such a society, a retainer was not someone who gave unconditional loyalty, but a contractual partner in a mutual exchange with their lord.
The vassal provides military service and taxes, and the lord provides protection. The Grand Duke had failed to uphold even this basic contract through his reckless operations, leading his retainers to view him with cold disdain.
Consequently, rebellions erupted across the North. Retainers scraped together every last soldier they could find to revolt. The threat was immense; the rebel forces raised by the vassals alone numbered ten thousand—a staggering army that seemed to have appeared from nowhere.
Meanwhile, the Grand Duke could only muster 5,000 soldiers. The number of new recruits was roughly equal to the number of deserters fleeing to the rebellion, leaving his forces stagnant.
Ten thousand against five thousand. It was a fight the Grand Duke should have lost, but the issue was that not all rebel factions were the same.
Since they failed to unite and instead raised their own flags in scattered locations, the Grand Duke was able to defeat them one by one.
Though he lacked strategic brilliance, the Grand Duke was a formidable warrior who had spent his entire life on the battlefield. By leading from the front and cutting through the enemy with reckless abandon, he systematically crushed the rebels.
Kronor believed this rebellion would soon end. In his experience, revolts were common; typically, executing a few ringleaders was enough to keep things quiet for a while.
But this rebellion was unlike any he had ever faced. He was a lord who had lost his people's trust, facing vassals consumed by resentment over their lost soldiers. Commoners devastated by the endless civil war took up arms as bandits or rebels, creating a vicious cycle that further crippled the Grand Duchy.
It was a downward spiral that only weakened the state. Everyone agreed that someone had to break this political deadlock.
However, that someone was not the Grand Duke. Overwhelmed by the stress of the unending revolts, he had lost himself in alcohol casks.
"Why... why do these rebellions never end..."
The Grand Duke sat with a whole beer cask, gulping it down greedily. Given his massive frame, he had a legendary tolerance; even the potent beers of the North could barely make him stumble.
The Grand Duke of Kronor had always taken pride in his legendary tolerance for alcohol, but this time, he cursed it. He was in a situation where it was simply impossible to endure without being drunk.
He had lost the war, and due to his own poor judgment. Because of this, many retainers lost their men and lands, and in their fury, they were launching endless rebellions. Who could possibly withstand such pressure?
In the midst of this, a voice called out.
"Daddy~ are you drinking again? Your liver won't like it if you keep this up~"
The Grand Duke was momentarily horrified, thinking it was Emilia. *Is this girl crazy?* he wondered, but when he turned around, he realized it wasn't her.
"Dorothea."
She had the same face and voice as Emilia. However, in contrast to her sister, she had shoulder-length bobbed hair and a constant, beaming smile. While she looked like Emilia, she was a completely different person inside; this was Emilia's younger sister, Dorothea.
Meanwhile, the guards watching the scene gulped. Many retainers had been beaten to death by the Grand Duke's bare hands for daring to advise him against drinking. Moreover, he had been ruthlessly violent toward Emilia. The guards expected the Grand Duke to swing his heavy palm across his second daughter's face any second. But...
"I had a bad day, so I drank a bit."
Surprisingly, Karl von Kronor said nothing more and didn't lay a finger on Dorothea. The guards were stunned, unable to believe there was someone who could advise Karl von Kronor and actually survive.
'Is it possible that Karl von Kronor is soft on his daughters after all...?'
No, the fury with which he had beaten Emilia the day before was far too intense for that. It occurred to them that he might not be soft on his daughters in general, but specifically toward Dorothea.
Meanwhile, Dorothea looked indignant.
"Is it those retainers again? You can lose a bit of territory in a war! The Crown Prince lost over twenty thousand men, so you've saved face, haven't you?"
Karl von Kronor felt a strange emotion at her words. To have the one person who took his side when everyone else condemned him... he felt a longing for the mother he had lost as a child reflected in his second daughter.
However, consumed by a twisted sense of machismo, Karl was ashamed to feel such an emotion for his daughter. He hid his expression as best he could and spoke.
"It's just a rebellion by ignorant fools. It'll be suppressed in no time."
"But I heard this particular rebellion is quite large?"
Karl von Kronor flinched at those words.
"Large? Where did you hear such a thing?"
"It's a rumor I gathered from people while wandering about. The nobles are preparing a massive uprising. Soldiers are flocking to the vassals' military camps by the day; one noble who had only a thousand men yesterday reportedly has three thousand today."
The Grand Duke was appalled. Could this really be happening? If so, they would soon reach a scale that could completely overwhelm the Kronor army.
"Those damn bastards! Another rebellion! They just don't know when to stop! This time, I'll cut them out by the roots! My sword! Bring me my sword! And summon the soldiers—"
At that moment, Dorothea wrapped her arms around the Grand Duke's back.
"Daddy... are you going to war again? I'm so scared that my one and only daddy will get hurt... please don't go..."
The Grand Duke was flustered by his daughter's sudden hug. He was a giant over two meters tall—at that height, a person looks less like a human and more like a building. Since no one ever tries to hug a building, no one had ever treated the Grand Duke with such casual affection.
"My daughter..."
Kronor felt a sudden surge of emotion, but that didn't mean he could simply ignore the war.
"My dear, but if I don't go, won't the rebels only grow stronger? I must lead the army and crush them now so they'll give up on this rebellion. I have to leave immediately."
"But...! I don't want you to die, Daddy!"
"Still, if we don't fight..."
"Then just send my sister instead!"
Grand Duke Karl von Kronor flinched.
"Your sister... you mean that brat Emilia?"
"Exactly. Emilia von Kronor. I heard she became a Sword Master, right? If a Sword Master leads the army, the soldiers' morale will soar. When is a better time to use her than now?"
"But..."
The Grand Duke of Kronor had always led his armies in person. He believed that if he didn't step forward himself, the soldiers wouldn't follow. He had personally overseen every rebellion suppression, which was how he had managed to achieve victory even against superior numbers.
Moreover, there was a larger problem. Emilia von Kronor was a woman of mystery. On the surface, she was docile and obedient, but he had no way of knowing what schemes she might be plotting in secret.
'Perhaps if I give her soldiers to suppress the revolt, she'll use them to start a rebellion of her own.'
This was why the Grand Duke always insisted on leading. If he gave troops to his retainers, they might simply use that power to declare independence.
For these reasons, he felt he could never entrust soldiers to Emilia. However...
"Daddy..."
His second daughter, Dorothea, continued to act cute and clingy.
"I don't want you to die. Please don't go to the battlefield. Let someone else handle the war."
Normally, the Grand Duke would have ignored her. But he was worn down by endless wars and hollowed out by his addiction to alcohol. In this state, he found himself completely defenseless against Dorothea, the only person who wasn't afraid of him and showered him with such affection.
"Very well..."
Kronor made up his mind.
"Since you put it that way, I have no choice. I'll send Emilia instead."
"Daddy!"
Upon hearing this, Dorothea leaped into the Grand Duke's arms, clinging to his neck. He laughed heartily and held her waist to keep her from falling, but in the excitement, he failed to see the meaningful smile playing on Dorothea's lips.