Arjen
Meanwhile, at the very moment when the hot spring water was shooting high into the sky, a caravan of carts came tearing through the blowing snow from far off in the distance.
"Yah! Hurry up, hurry up!"
"Watch the wheels so they don’t sink into the snow! Do you have any idea how much is in these carts?!"
It was the Northern noble ATM squad, led by Baron Killian.
After surviving a life-and-death negotiation with Kael the day before under the guise of investment, they had spent the entire night scrambling to liquidate every hidden asset they possessed into cash.
Their country villa in the south, the paintings stacked away in storage, even the prized purebred horses they had cherished like children—all of it had been dumped at bargain-bin prices and loaded onto the carts.
"Huff, huff... There! I see where His Highness the Prince is!"
Baron Killian arrived at the scene, panting hard.
And then he stopped dead at the sight before him.
Whoooosh!
A column of water soaring into the sky.
And thick white steam pouring down in waves, radiating such heat that even the icy northern wind couldn’t cool it.
"...Huh?"
"W-What is that...?"
"Could it be... that heat...?"
The four of them stood there with their jaws hanging open.
Wait. What had His Highness the Prince said yesterday again?
If any one of you proves to be the most capable, I might consider handing over the operating rights to this facility.
A giant luxury entertainment complex... with natural hot spring water!?
"Ohoho...! Genius! His Highness is truly the god of business!!"
"A hot spring has burst forth in the North’s barren land! If a super-luxury VIP casino resort is built here, the rich nobles from across the Empire will flock to the North, carrying money in both hands just to enjoy this hot spring!!"
"This is insane! It’s not a goose laying golden eggs—it’s a gold mine itself!!"
The four of them screamed in delight, tears streaming down their faces as they stared at the surging spring water.
Right then and there, they were ready to throw themselves at Kael’s feet, so they yanked their carts full of gold coins toward the tent area at once.
—
"Y-Your Highness!!"
"Hm?"
I turned my head, towels in hand, after wiping the hot spring water off myself while trading jokes with Chloe.
The four nobles slid to a stop before me, flinging themselves face-first into the mud and sobbing like their lives depended on it.
"Your Highness! Great and glorious Your Highness!! We’ve brought every last bit of our investment money in cash!!"
"Your foresight, Your Highness! To think you’d build a hot spring resort on this northern land—we can barely keep up just trying to follow the tip of your boot!!"
What the hell was this now?
Hot spring resort?
When I gave them a blank stare, Baron Killian ripped the tarp off the cart he’d dragged in behind him.
Flash!
Gold bars and sacks of coins gleamed as they caught the sunlight.
No, seriously—just how much had these idiots been hiding away?
Damn it, no wonder the North looked like this!
Once again, I felt a fresh wave of admiration for Giselle, who’d been holding this bunch together while also enduring the imperial court’s pressure.
"We give you everything we have! Please, grant us a share in the glorious hot spring resort business!!"
"......"
I looked from the mound of gold coins to the bastard kneeling in front of me.
Then I flicked a glance back over my shoulder at Giselle and Hexion, who were staring at the whole scene with dazed expressions.
Anyway, this is an absolute win!
I hadn’t even thought of this. Perfect timing.
They’d just given me the most lavish money-laundering operation imaginable.
Anyone could see this wasn’t extortion money shaken loose through threats—it was a voluntary investment by nobles moved by a promising business opportunity.
"...Ahem."
I forced down the corners of my mouth, which were trying very hard to twitch upward, and put on my most solemn expression.
"Good. You’re all very enthusiastic. Leave the carts here and come back once more later. I’ll give you receipts."
"Th-thank you, Your Highness!! We’ll be your loyal dogs for life!!"
The four nobles bowed until their foreheads nearly hit the ground, then ran off to get hit by the hot spring spray.
"......"
Chloe, standing beside me, watched this absurd farce for a moment before tugging at my sleeve.
"Hey, you know."
"What."
"Those old men were talking about a hot spring resort and all that, right? Aren’t they totally misunderstanding something? You said this was supposed to be a public bath for poor people."
"Shh."
I pressed a finger firmly against her mouth.
"Chloe. There are truths in this world it’s better not to know. Let them live inside that happy misunderstanding until the day they’re scrubbing the floor of my bathhouse and realize the truth."
"...You’re really a con artist."
Chloe shook her head in disbelief.
—
Meanwhile, Giselle had been watching the whole thing.
...Just how is something like this even possible?
As always, those men had been opportunists wallowing in greed.
The same men who would hide like rats at the slightest hint of loss had only recently been donating money voluntarily, and now they’d brought their entire fortunes in carts and were practically begging to be allowed to invest.
No.
Giselle shook her head.
Whether he’d threatened them or swindled them with clever wordplay, the important thing was the result.
In the end, Kael had done it without taking a single coin from the Grand Ducal Castle’s treasury, and instead had forced the rotten nobles to spew out the wealth they’d hidden away.
And with that enormous capital, along with the miracle of the hot spring, he was trying to rebuild the poorest district in the North—the territory’s deepest wound.
"Hoo. I suppose I’ll trust him one more time."
With a sigh, Giselle called Hexion over.
"Hexion."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Inform the knights assigned to that construction site. They are to obey the Prince’s instructions without argument and support the work with everything they have. Until that place is complete, all administrative support from the territory will also be directed there first."
"Understood."
—
The Imperial Capital.
Deep within the imperial palace stood the banquet hall.
As a chandelier made of top-grade mana stones scattered crimson light across the room, the Emperor and the great nobles who controlled the Empire sat around a round table.
On the table lay top-shelf wine and a feast worth feeding hundreds of Northern subjects for an entire year.
"Heh heh heh. Your Majesty, were the dancers the southern governor offered you last time to your liking?"
Duke Valere, with his greasy face, gave a sly smile as he spoke.
"Don’t even start. They were howling so fiercely all night that my back’s been stiff for days."
"Hahaha! I do hope Your Majesty’s noble body hasn’t suffered. Still, they were serving the supreme ruler of the Empire, so they should count even that pain as an honor."
"Naturally. Though they did wear out rather quickly. Bring me some new ones soon. Unblemished virgins only."
It was disgusting filth—vulgar talk that treated human life and dignity like cheap toys and expendable goods.
But none of the men seated around the table felt the slightest bit of guilt.
To them, commoners and slaves were little more than livestock.
As if by reflex, the conversation shifted to money and power.
"By the way, once we tightened our grip on the grain routes, the merchant caravans from the south and east practically begged for their lives, coughing up blood all the while. We raised the tolls by double, and they still paid up."
"Good. If they’ve fattened themselves under the Empire’s protection, then it’s only right that they give blood back to the Imperial family and our noble house. Any caravans that resist, slap on smuggling charges, execute the lot, and confiscate everything they own."
The Emperor swirled his wine and lifted his chin.
They were not fools without brains. On the contrary, they were too cunning for that.
They were intelligent parasites who knew exactly how far they could tighten the noose around the people’s throats without triggering a riot, and how to keep sucking blood while everyone stayed obedient.
Just then, the head of Imperial intelligence hurried into the banquet hall.
"Your Majesty! An urgent message has arrived from the North!"
At the intelligence chief’s voice, every noble at the table turned to look at him at once.
"What now? Did those uncivilized northern brutes cross the defensive line again?"
"No, that is not it... In the Northern slums, a natural hot spring has burst forth!"
"...A hot spring?"
The Emperor’s brow furrowed.
"Yes! And furthermore, His Highness the Eighth Prince is building a massive facility using that hot spring. Baron Killian and the other Northern nobles have sold off all of their private property and invested enormous sums of money into it!"
The air around the round table turned cold.
Duke Valere slammed a hand on the table in irritation.
"What nonsense is this! The Northern nobles funded the Eighth Prince?! If that hot spring facility is completed and the North’s finances become self-sufficient, everything we’ve done to keep a stranglehold on their necks will be for nothing!"
"Your Majesty! We must send auditors at once, or mobilize the army and stop the construction! We cannot allow the North to grow stronger!"
The nobles instantly sensed the threat. The North gaining capital and slipping out from under imperial control—that was the most painful scenario imaginable for the ruling class of the Empire.
The intelligence chief wiped away sweat and added one more piece of news.
"A-and... His Highness the Eighth Prince has taken in a young red-haired girl as his direct guard knight, and that child is... apparently a mage."
"What!?"
Even the Emperor’s eyes widened this time.
A mage. Rare beings, each one essentially a strategic weapon of the Empire.
"A young mage? Send assassins at once and kill that girl—or kidnap her to the palace! That Eighth Prince bastard must be planning to join hands with the Grand Duchess and spark a rebellion by putting a mage at the front!"
Just as the nobles’ anger and suspicion reached a fever pitch, and the banquet hall was on the verge of descending into chaos—
"Everyone, calm yourselves."
A quiet voice brought the room to heel.
The speaker was the First Prince, Arjen, seated in silence at the Emperor’s right, savoring his wine.
"Arjen, Your Highness! But the Eighth Prince’s movements are far from ordinary! He’s gathering funds through a hot spring and even securing a mage!"
At Duke Valere’s frantic cry, Arjen only smiled with ease and shrugged.
"My lord duke, you are all overreacting. Who exactly are we talking about here? My younger brother, Kael."
At the name Kael, spoken from Arjen’s mouth, the nobles flinched.
"Think about it. The Empire’s most notorious scoundrel is trapped in some backwater corner of the North. Then, by sheer coincidence, a hot spring appears. Do you really think that boy would build anything for Northern economic independence or for the relief of the territory’s people?"
Arjen let out a thin smile.
"Come now, obviously he’s building some enormous pleasure palace where women are thrown into the hot water and drinking parties go on every night, or just a private bathhouse for his own use."
"...!"
"As for the Northern nobles who invested money, they’re no different. Those rats are greedy for the smell of money; they invested to enjoy pleasure, not to fund a rebellion. In fact, the North’s capital is simply sinking deeper into a swamp of luxury and indulgence. For our part, it’s better to leave them alone."
At Arjen’s reasoning, the nobles’ eyes began to waver.
"B-but what about that young mage?! Isn’t the Eighth Prince trying to build up military power?"
"A mage is still just a young girl from an orphanage."
Arjen gave a small laugh and tilted his wineglass.
"Doesn’t Kael usually like keeping young girls around and treating them like toys? He probably just picked up some little thing with a strange talent as a curiosity, then appointed her a guard knight to strut around and show off."
Arjen cast a gentle look toward the Emperor.
"Your Majesty, if we send an army over something as trivial as a prince’s bathhouse construction and one orphan child, the people of the Empire will laugh that the Imperial family has developed a paranoid fear of the North. Wouldn’t it be far more useful to let that brat sink deeply into the hot spring and waste the North’s budget on it? That would give us an excellent pretext to tighten the noose around the North completely later on."
The Emperor stroked his beard after hearing Arjen out.
"...Now that I think about it, Arjen, you’re absolutely right."
The Emperor, too, had watched Kael’s behavior with disgust for years, so Arjen’s explanation hit home.
The boy had no intelligence with which to build power for himself. He was probably just making a playground for himself because a hot spring happened to burst forth at the right time.
"Kwahaha! As expected of the First Prince! No one can match Your Highness’s insight! We were blinded by a moment of fear and overreacted!"
"Exactly! Let’s leave that Eighth Prince bastard alone until he gets so bloated from the bathhouse that he bursts! Gwahahaha!"
The corrupt nobles, having fallen for Arjen’s slippery tongue, clinked their wineglasses again and burst into vulgar laughter as if they’d never been worried in the first place.
—
After the banquet ended, Arjen stood alone on the terrace.
He shook the wineglass in his hand while gazing up at the North Star hanging in the night sky.
The Empire’s most notorious scoundrel.
The title of his younger brother he had just tossed around in front of the nobles.
"...Heh. I see. So that’s how it was!"
Arjen burst into laughter, his expression intrigued.
When they were children, it had only been suspicion.
That his younger brother was acting.
But now, he was nearly half convinced.
There was still more to verify, but Arjen trusted his instincts.
My stupid, pitiful little brother. The moment he slipped out of my sight, he started growing the fangs of a beast at frightening speed.
And yet Arjen had done the opposite of stopping him—he had just used his own power to cover for him and protect him.
Why?
"That’s right, Kael. Grow big and strong. Become even more cunning, and even stronger."
Arjen raised his glass.
It didn’t matter if it was only an assumption.
As long as he made it real, that was enough.
To carve out the rotten heart of this Empire, he needed a huge, sharp blade that could slash through the decayed flesh from the outside and work its way in.
Until now, he had hoped Giselle Claude would play that role, and had squeezed the North to its limit for that reason alone. But she was too noble, too straight; she would break before she would ever draw the knife of rebellion.
But Kael was different. Arjen could feel it.
A mutation who might overturn the entire chessboard Arjen himself had laid out.
"Gather the embers of rage in the frozen land of the North."
Arjen’s eyes curved like crescent moons.
"And the day you finally turn that blade toward the Imperial Capital... your older brother will gladly become the firewood that burns this rotten Empire to ash."