Chapter 152: A Wise Monarch
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 152: A Wise Monarch
In response to Ferda’s question, Garnet replied:
“Establishing a public presence for a shadow organization that thrives on secrecy is a contradiction in terms. Only you, the Regent, and the Administrator should know the truth of our relationship.”
“Then what do you intend to do?”
“I will create an organization that possesses a legitimate justification for existing within this city.”
“And what would that be?”
“Mezina Palange is a noblewoman from the South who operates a merchant group.”
Mezina Palange.
Ferda recalled the name; it was the alias listed on the very first page of Garnet Swallow’s profile.
“That merchant group is currently interested in the Far East Region. At the same time, they are witnessing the absurdities occurring in various places.”
“And?”
“And so, as a representative of the merchants, she will lodge a formal protest with Hestia Village. After that—”
“You’ll establish a union.”
“Precisely.”
Ferda felt a sharp sense of déjà vu. This was a plan he had already discussed once with Stephan.
“Stephan Pascal is already aiming for that.”
Garnet let out a short, dry laugh.
“The chairman of the Pascal Trading Company is quite greedy. He already controls the labor union; if he tries to seize the merchant guild as well, the union’s credibility will eventually plummet. Surely he doesn't want to become unnecessary prey?”
Stephan had been worried about that very point as well. However, such is human greed—if something can be taken, one finds a way to take it.
Even though Ferda knew they were an intelligence organization, he couldn't help but admire how they struck at such a blind spot.
“I must state clearly that for this matter, the merchants I have gathered must step forward as an alliance.”
Just in case, Ferda checked the current identities of the core members. Out of the twelve, eight were local merchants. All of them belonged to common merchant houses he had never heard of.
“It seems you have little talent for commerce,” Ferda remarked, adding a slight provocative edge to his voice.
Hearing this, Garnet replied calmly, without a hint of being rattled.
“A merchant who uses their goods recklessly is bound to lose trust.”
She was right. If the Black Bandana had truly intended to jump into any market, monopolizing that field would have been child's play. It meant they were information brokers first and remained focused on selling information. Because of this, their reliability was emphasized repeatedly throughout the documents.
“How many within the Black Bandana know of this?”
“Aside from the top executives and core members, no one. Everyone listed in the personal records I handed over has agreed.”
“Then, to the outside world, it will look as though the Black Bandana is being maintained as usual.”
“Yes. However, we will become a group that no longer holds neutrality.”
Ferda felt a brief moment of pity for the clients of the Black Bandana across the Serdes Continent, but in truth, he didn't care at all.
“If you are going to form a union on your own, I won't stop you.”
“We will do it through our own strength, but there is a point I must agree upon with you in advance, Regent.”
“What kind of agreement?”
“The Dandolo Merchant House—the place that has now changed its name to the Hestia Merchant House.”
“Go on.”
“I understand that you and Marquis Burnell hold 51%, while 20% is held by your proxy, Stephan Pascal, and the remaining 29% was left for investors. Of that, 10% is already in Halim.”
“Correct.”
“I would like you to hand over the remaining 19% stake to us.”
Ferda frowned reflexively. “Acting like a fading organization, I see.”
“It may seem that way, but simply by obtaining a certain stake in the Hestia Merchant House, we can secure a great deal of credibility for the merchant union. That will make an ideal shadow organization possible.”
“Explain.”
“Once the Far East Merchant Union is established, won't we also gain the status of citizen representatives and rise to the rank of quasi-nobility?”
“You would have a political voice.”
“That is merely for appearances. What I need is the duty.”
Duty. Most people were desperate to avoid such a thing.
“As a merchant union, we have a duty to contribute to the prosperity of Hestia.”
“Indeed.”
“Therefore, it becomes possible for us to conduct inspections and checkpoints to ensure merchants are not carrying harmful goods or smuggling.”
“I see.”
“If we judge that a simple inspection is insufficient, we gain the justification to independently investigate and track them.”
Hearing that, Ferda realized the setup was certainly attractive. That investigation and tracking wouldn't just apply to merchants, but also to those inciting internal rebellion.
If they became the merchant union of the Far East, they would interact with other merchant unions, through which they could gather or leak information and guide events in the desired direction. Since they would have no point of contact other than commerce, others would judge them as a monitoring body, and enemies of the Far East might even approach them to win them over.
If it were the Black Bandana—unrivaled by anyone in the field of intelligence—they would be able to align everything exactly as intended.
“Still, 19% is too much. I’d like to lower it to 10%.”
“A practical stake of 3% is enough for us to manipulate things. The remaining 16% is merely a means for capital contribution and show.”
“Hmm…”
“We will not use it for selfish interests; we will use it solely for Hestia Village and the Archduchess’s territory.”
Stephan had said that the exchange of stakes was an important part of the process. Originally, that was Stephan’s job, but he had been putting it off as he was currently overwhelmed with work.
‘If I leave this to the merchant union…’
Based on the information they possessed, they might achieve more effective results than the busy Stephan. Besides, was this merely about business?
‘The greatest secret intelligence organization is voluntarily revealing its own fatal secrets and coming under my command.’
That was why Ferda was curious. He threw the question he had saved for last.
“You said you seek to destroy the Empire because it betrayed its founding ideology.”
“That is correct.”
“One day, I might become like that as well.”
The day might come when his judgment clouded and the regret settled in his heart consumed him once more.
“When that time comes, will you betray me?”
Loyalty meant following regardless of the decision made. Therefore, if there was a possibility of betrayal, it could not be called true loyalty.
Garnet replied, “A monarch is one who reigns above all people—a superhuman.”
Because she collected information on the high-ranking elite, Garnet knew the patterns of kings and nobles.
“Because of that, they often fall into the arrogance of believing they are justice itself and ignore the will of the people.”
They cannot tolerate their opinions being denied and cannot forgive those who stand in their way. The heads of loyal subjects who offer candid advice roll on the floor, while the tongues of sycophants never have a chance to dry.
“And I thought you, Regent, were such a man as well.”
Ferda seemed like a man who could easily fall into that path. He did not hesitate to kill someone if necessary and possessed the will to discard even his own people. From Garnet’s perspective, such a monarch was someone who should not exist.
“But I was wrong.”
Her judgment had changed starting from that night.
The Evil Dragon, the Red Dragon, who was treated like a watchdog. The reason she lived in self-loathing and isolated himself was because he loved humans.
“You, Regent, constantly doubt yourself.”
Ferda loved the one who loved humans. He learned a dance he had never performed in his life and held a banquet he did not want. To make one woman happy, he suppressed the nature she had perceived and moved forward with conviction.
“One who doubts himself cannot be a superhuman.” Garnet paused, her eyes steady. “But you can be a wise monarch.”
A wise monarch.
A picture was painted of all the people shouting the name of Valdrova in praise. Suppressing a sudden urge to laugh, Ferda spoke to Garnet.
“I’ll consider those the last pleasant words I’ll hear.”
Garnet politely clasped her hands and bowed her head.
“It is an honor to become the shadow of the Great Fire.”
* * *
Ferda gathered all the nobles at the Far East Front Alliance Hall.
“Have you all fared well without any special incidents?”
“A few petty thieves tried to take advantage of the empty houses, but overall, everything was peaceful.”
“The residents who were in a panic have all returned to their livelihoods.”
“Oh, you have no idea how anxious we were when it hit the one-month mark!”
The nobles shuddered with indignation. Their faces looked as though they never wanted to recall those days when they had to huddle together and worry day by day. As much as everyone else had been anxious, so had Ferda.
“I trust that through this incident, all of you harbor resentment toward the Arken Empire.”
“Of course! Those damn bastards!”
“Treating the Far East like a place of exile and trying to use us politically even when we were on the brink of death!”
Rather than resenting Ferda for not bowing his head, they showed rage toward Alexander Arken. It was clear how much had built up over time.
“Therefore, I have been called to testify at the Post Mortem centered around Alexander Arken.”
“Do you mean the post-war conference?”
“Of course, since we were the ones under siege, it is right that we attend, but…”
The nobles’ reactions were lukewarm. Even if it was a place to judge Alexander Arken, they knew it was all the same crowd—birds of a feather.
“As your reactions suggest, there is a very high possibility they will try to pin this entire matter on us.”
“Wouldn't that be obvious?!”
“They’ll clearly try to protect that delinquent Crown Prince!”
“I desire the peace of this Far East, and I know that you all desire its development as well.”
Ferda reached out his hand toward them and said, “Therefore, I, Regent Ferda Valdrova, demand your wisdom here and now.”
The lords willingly rolled up their sleeves. They discussed how the Post Mortem would proceed, how the Empire would try to shift the blame to Ferda, and how to counter it. By creating several scenarios, they built loopholes through which Ferda could escape.
The meeting continued late into the night without pause. As the meeting progressed smoothly, Count Consilus’s expression remained grim throughout.
* * *
“It is not a good idea.”
A full day had passed, and the lords' carriages were dispersing as the dawn broke. Consilus approached Ferda, who was watching the procession, and went out of his way to speak.
“You mean putting our heads together?”
“It is not wise to believe that all of them are allies. Among them are those who love the Empire’s walls more than the safety of the Far East. If you let them know of this situation—”
“An informant will emerge.”
Ferda cut him off. “That is exactly what I am aiming for.”
Ferda spoke quietly, interrupting him. Consilus looked surprised but lowered his voice in turn.
“What do you mean, you are aiming for it?”
“I was told to let the information leak like this,” Ferda emphasized each word. “So that the traitor walks into the execution ground on their own two feet.”
“I see…”
Consilus flushed with embarrassment. He felt like a fool for believing the young Regent was naive enough to think everyone was an ally.
Seeing this, Ferda said, “Seeing as you came to tell me this, at least you don't seem to be a turncoat.”
“That… is truly a relief.” Consilus laughed awkwardly.
“Then, may I ask how you plan to handle the public hearing?”
“At first, I plan to speak according to the scenario. I must judge whether or not the scenario ‘we’ thought of has been leaked.”
“Do you plan to flush out the traitors that way?”
“I already know who the traitors are.”
“If you already know…”
A sharp energy could be felt from beneath Consilus's drooping white eyebrows. Unlike the blazing blood energy of the youth, the old man’s power flowed quietly. That made it all the more chilling.
“If I may be so bold as to request… could I be the one to deal with the traitors?”
“You?”
Ferda had intended to handle it with his own hands. After all, among the lords, Ferda’s image was already that of someone who didn't hesitate to kill.
“You may not know, Regent… but simply being sent to this Far East is no different from being exiled.”
Consilus knew this better than anyone, having been here longer than most.
“When you live in a place without hope, you eventually become lethargic and start looking for ways to escape.”
The nobles grew fat, the soldiers grew lazy, and the residents died off as they always had.
“Into such a place, a rope was lowered. Not a rotten rope, but a very sturdy one—a rope that wouldn't be out of place if called ‘hope.’”
Count Consilus’s eyes gazed deeply at Ferda. They were eyes filled with sincere gratitude and respect.
“But if there are rats who don't know their place and try to gnaw away at that rope…”
A poisonous light entered Count Consilus’s eyes. When one who lived in despair gains hope, they become more vicious than anyone else.
“This old man will gladly become the executioner who punishes betrayal.”
Hearing that answer, Ferda nodded. “I shall leave it to you, Count.”
“Everything for the Archduchess’s territory.”
Ferda could feel it clearly. Before long, a bloody wind would blow, cutting away the rotting, diseased parts.