Chapter 13
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: Persuasion
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"Damn."
A curse slipped out under his breath.
He was caught between a rock and a hard place. Opening the gates would shatter the Empire's pride and the safety of his territory, while blocking them meant risking all-out war.
And Helena's rage showed no signs of stopping at just killing the Emperor. She was clearly plotting to shake the Empire to its core and flaunt Roselia's influence in one fell swoop.
Knock knock.
The door to the office was rapped cautiously.
"Come in."
His adjutant opened the door and placed a stack of documents on the desk.
"Your Grace, a messenger from Argent territory. The border guards have spotted Roselia's vanguard. They're facing off now—no clashes yet, but tensions are rising."
Duke Karls closed his eyes. A map unfurled in his mind: the Argent plains, Roselia's red banners visible beyond, and the Emperor locked in the underground dungeon.
'Batanias.'
The root of all this chaos. One of his mad escapades had sent the continent's balance spinning into turmoil.
If only he'd beheaded him back then. Helena might have been furious, but she wouldn't have waged war over a corpse.
But the water was already spilled.
"If only the escort force..."
He muttered to himself. Was there no other way to persuade Helena? Some clever ploy that would let her withdraw her troops in peace while saving the Empire's face.
Then the Emperor's face flashed in his mind.
'That guy.'
It was a crazy idea. But what would that mad Emperor make of this mess? And it was his antics that had ignited Helena's fury in the first place.
Maybe some nonsense from that fool's mouth could puncture this deadlock like a pinhole.
Duke Karls rose from his seat. His chair scraped back with a harsh grind.
"I'm going to the underground dungeon."
The air in the dungeon was heavy and stale. The dawn chill crept along the floor, biting at the ankles, but the tension Duke Karls brought with him was far colder.
His footsteps were as heavy and rhythmic as ever, but today they carried a faint discord between them.
His face, bare without the helmet, was shadowed, his blue eyes still as a deep well, hiding bottomless anxiety.
He stopped before the iron bars and looked down at me. I was leaning against the wall, rolling a dry biscuit between my fingers.
"Queen Helena's vanguard has crossed the border."
Duke Karls spoke. His voice was low, emotions reined in tight, dry as if chewing gravel.
"Five thousand regular troops. They've advanced to the gates of Argent territory and set up camp. The Queen demands I open the way."
I chuckled and popped the biscuit into my mouth.
"So? Just open them. They're here for the Emperor's head anyway. Kill me and it's all over—why agonize?"
My sarcasm didn't faze him. He gripped the bars tighter. His leather gloves creaked.
"This is all because of you, Batanias."
His voice sharpened.
"That disgrace you pulled in the council chamber provoked the Queen. Killing you alone won't satisfy her. She wants to trample Imperial soil and crush my territory to restore her sullied honor."
He paused, catching his breath.
"I don't want war. Especially not spilling my people's blood in a fight with no cause. That's why I'm asking you."
He stared straight at me.
"This is your mess. Do you have a way to fix it?"
His question was desperate. Even the continent's greatest swordsman couldn't slice through this tangle of politics and diplomacy with a blade alone. He was grasping at straws, begging answers from the Emperor he'd deposed.
"Oh, and."
Duke Karls added,
"Magical communication is useless. I've tried contacting her multiple times, but she won't respond. She even chased off my envoys. She's refusing dialogue outright."
I swallowed the biscuit in my mouth. My throat tightened, but my heart started pounding. This was my chance—the moment I'd been waiting for. Her refusing talks meant I just had to force her into one.
I rose slowly. My chains rattled against the floor. I stepped close to the bars, meeting Duke Karls' eyes.
"I have a way."
My voice rang with certainty.
"Take me to the Oath Room."
His brows furrowed. The Oath Room—the imperial palace's top floor, the continental council chamber. A place steeped in the Emperor's absolute authority.
"What are you talking about?"
"The Queen won't pick up? Then make her. The giant crystal orb in the Oath Room isn't just a communicator. It's enchanted with the 'forced assembly' spell by past Emperors. If I call a council from there, Helena has to sit before the screen whether she likes it or not. She can't cut the line or refuse."
I swallowed hard.
"I'll persuade her myself. For you—no, for the Empire. I'll stake my life to soothe her rage."
My plan was flawless. Use the [Fusion (Active)] skill to infuse the crystal orb with [Persuasion], then pour my sincerity(?) into the forcibly connected Helena.
[Fusion (Active)]
Infuse crystal orb with [Persuasion] → Target locked in unbreakable connection
In that absolute situation where she can't hang up, I'd win her over with my enhanced silver tongue.
Duke Karls said nothing. He stared through me. Countless thoughts crossed his blue eyes. The only way to avert war.
But the risk of escorting a deposed Emperor back to the throne room. And above all, could he trust this lunatic's tongue?
I shot him a pleading look. [Persuasion (Lv.1)] activated. Please, please work.
[Persuasion (Lv.1)]
Pleading gaze deployed → Target resistance: High
"Trust me, Karls. I don't want to die either. If war breaks out, I'm the first to go. You think I'd pull some stupid stunt? Just this once—hear me out."
Tension hung thick in the air. Duke Karls' lips parted slowly.
"I refuse."
It was firm. No hesitation whatsoever.
"What?"
I blurted in shock.
"I said I refuse. Batanias, you've been dethroned. The Oath Room is a sanctuary for the Emperor alone. A criminal setting foot there violates Imperial law."
"Hey! Is law the issue right now? War's about to erupt!"
"Without law and principle, the Empire can't stand. And."
His eyes gleamed coldly.
"I can't trust your tongue. Who knows what stunt you'll pull in there? Or if you'll provoke Queen Helena further and make things worse? Drop your pants for another farce like last time? Incite the other kings? I won't risk it."
Failure. The faint ripple of [Persuasion] couldn't pierce his ironclad principles.
He acknowledged me as a variable, but not as an uncontrollable threat.
"I'll find another way."
Duke Karls turned to leave.
"Wait! Karls! Hey! You stubborn bastard! Hear me out!"
I gripped the bars and yelled, but he didn't look back.
His silver cloak faded into the darkness. Click, click. His footsteps marched on, crushing my hopes.
I slammed my forehead against the bars. The cold metal only fueled my boiling frustration.
"Argh, damn it."
It was the perfect chance. The one shot to hit Helena with fused Persuasion. Ruined by that pigheaded wall of a man. A rebel preaching principles? Pointless to mock, but still.
Now it was down to whether Helena would really attack or if Karls could miraculously talk her down.
But knowing her personality from the game, the former seemed far more likely.
I slumped to the floor and shoved the remaining biscuit crumbs into my mouth like tearing flesh.
"Just watch. You'll come crawling back begging at my feet."
"Yeah, you do that."
I voiced the taunt I'd held back last time.
Just an empty echo.
Duke Karls walked, listening to his own footsteps receding from the dungeon.
The dank air thick with moss and old iron pressed heavy into his lungs.
His silver armor had chilled, absorbing the underground cold.
Each step up the stairs sent irregular stone sensations through his soles.
'The Oath Room.'
He swallowed a hollow laugh. Batanias' words from that deposed Emperor's mouth were nothing but a madman's ravings.
A criminal entering the Emperor's sacred domain? Sacrilege. Especially the one he'd dethroned? Unthinkable.
The throne for the Emperor alone, the giant crystal orb for his hands only.
They weren't mere objects—they were the Empire's soul and history.
'But.'
Duke Karls clenched his fist. His nails dug into his palm beneath the leather glove.
Reality was harsher than any law book. Queen Helena's army was at Argent's gates.
Five thousand elite troops. Their spears aimed at the Empire's heart, her rage leaving no room for compromise. She demanded one thing: the Emperor's head.
And she wanted to sever it herself, the blood-soaked obsession of an insulted Queen.
Duke Karls stopped at a corridor window. Beyond the thick glass, the sky was shrouded in gray clouds. A suffocating weather, rain imminent.
'Maybe I should take him there.'
Another option surfaced in his mind. Load the Emperor into a carriage and drag him straight to the Argent border.
Hand him over to Queen Helena—the surest, swiftest way to quell her wrath.