Chapter 56
Chapter 56
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 56
Chapter Title: Laying the Groundwork for the Divine Masterstroke (1)
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In this Europa continent where we live, the Elrain Empire is known as the wealthiest empire of all. The bards speak of the opulence of its capital, Elisium, in this way.
The capital's walls caress the heavens, its streets are paved with bricks, and its people are sated on meat and beer... It must be the place on earth closest to paradise.
When I heard this song at the frequent banquets in the County of Nant, I dismissed it as the typical exaggerated, poetic flair of bards...
But the scene unfolding before my eyes inside the city walls boasted a prosperity that perfectly matched those words.
The city walls, built from massive square stones, appeared to be over fifteen meters high by rough estimate, and though the streets inside were a bit worn, they were entirely paved with bricks.
Even the slaves inside the city weren't wearing torn clothes—no matter how threadbare.
In other territories, only middle-class citizens or above could walk around in decent attire...
Overwhelmed by the splendor of the royal capital that Ella, Baldt, and I were seeing for the first time, we stood speechless. Then, some young noblewomen passing by covered their mouths with fans and whispered in small voices.
"They must be nobles from the countryside, visiting for the first time."
"It's too dazzling for bumpkins from some backwater. Well, not all nobles are created equal, even if they share the title."
"Still, they don't seem like poor nobles. The knights and even the maid are wearing silk maid outfits."
"They're still country folk. Come on, hurry up, Lady Reint."
Judging by the lack of servants trailing them, those girls were probably just daughters of knightly families at best...
Yet even they paraded around in dresses lavish with silk and frills. Truly befitting nobles of the imperial capital.
In our County of Nant, only a baron's wife or her daughters might wear such outfits...
Standing there dazed for a moment, gawking at these extravagantly dressed women, Ella shot me a pouty look, clearly displeased.
"Does Master prefer flashy women like that? If that's what Master wants, Ella will learn to do makeup too."
What nonsense. No matter how much makeup those women slathered on or how dazzling their silk dresses, they couldn't hold a candle to Ella in her rags.
Proof? Everyone around us was staring at 'Ella', not those two daughters of knightly houses who had just passed.
To keep Ella from turning into a cake of makeup like them, I stroked her hair and said,
"No, Ella. It's just rare to see people dressed so glamorously in a barony, so I stared too long."
Ella replied in a slightly dejected voice after hearing my explanation.
"I see... Master... Ella isn't flashy like them..."
To cheer her up, I channeled a Casanova from some drama, gently lifting her chin with two fingers and said,
"Ella's prettier than those girls. And once the funeral's over, I'll buy you some pretty clothes like that. Next time we go out beyond Kroitel Castle, you can wear them."
Tears welled in her eyes as she beamed happily and said,
"Yes, Master!"
"After the funeral, let's pick some out together. You're so cute, Ella—they'll look great on you."
**
The imperial palace, built of brick and lime mortar, was as tall as a modern low-rise apartment and as vast as Gyeongbokgung Palace...
But once we entered the palace, there was no chance to leisurely admire it like we had the walls earlier.
Because...
"That gentleman over there, the plump one in the coat with gold buttons—that's Viscount Brandel of the Court. Go greet him first."
We had to immediately pay respects to superiors higher than me the moment we entered.
"Good day, Viscount Brandel. I am Siel von Kroitel, lord of the Barony of Kroitel. I've lived in a remote place and this is my first time in the capital."
Viscount Brandel, dressed in red velvet embroidered with gold thread and frilled like a 16th-century European noble, looked at me annoyedly and replied,
"You're the new Baron of Kroitel? Your father was a fine man... refined and excellent... I'm sorry I couldn't offer condolences."
Typically, inheritance happens upon the 'death of the title-holding father', so his words weren't entirely wrong.
Still, asking a stranger, "So your dad kicked the bucket? That's how you got the title?" was pretty brainless, wasn't it?
If the father was dead, it was a dad joke gone wrong; if alive, it sounded like "Hope your dad dies soon."
Normally, you'd say, "So you're the new Baron of Kroitel. How's your father?"
A dimwit like this was a court viscount? No wonder the empire was heading for warlord chaos after the emperor's death...
"When my liege, Count of Nant, changed heirs, my father became my guardian and passed the title to me."
Only then did Brandel realize his blunder, stammering in panic,
"Forgive me, pardon the slip. Yes, Baron of Kroitel. First time in the capital, I imagine. If you need any minor assistance, call on me. I swear on Viscount Brandel's honor to lend you some help. But for this matter..."
Let's see—a court viscount handles accommodations and ceremonies for top nobles like direct imperial royals and dukes at funerals...
I could ask him to arrange a meeting with the 'His Grace the Duke' I needed to see.
The ducal house ruling the duchy next to the County of Nant, for sure...
"Actually, I'd like to meet Duke of Brussels during this visit, if I may ask?"
"Very well, but in exchange..."
"No worries. I'm simply thrilled to have the fortune of meeting the renowned Viscount Brandel today."
Satisfied, Brandel nodded and said,
"His Grace the Duke can't meet anyone for three days due to presiding over His Majesty's funeral. Normally, a baron like you couldn't see him even if you begged... but I'll pull strings for an audience within the week. When the date and time are set, I'll send a servant."
"Thank you, Your Excellency."
I'd planned to draw attention with 'modern cuisine' banquets common in isekai stories, then cook for the duke personally when he showed interest...
No need now.
So, about two weeks left until the funeral ended...
How could I lay the foundation for my scheme in that time?
**
For the next five days in the palace, I was dragged to various funeral rites and banquets, barely keeping my wits.
Four days were spent glued to Count of Nant, greeting like a machine.
Like this.
"Ah, I'm Siel von Kroitel, newly inherited Baron of Kroitel."
"Is that so? I'm Gran von Seitel, lord of the Barony of Seitel. Ho ho, you're quite handsome. Do you enjoy women and drink?"
"I haven't married yet..."
"What?! A talent like you?!"
"But I'll wed Alice, His Excellency Count of Nant's stepdaughter, once she comes of age... haha."
The remaining day was spent in the never-ending 'memorial mass for His Majesty's passing'.
I sat on the church's long pews all day, steeling myself to endure the cardinal's sermon laced with sleep aids.
To think there was a drowsier lecture than my college prof's one-year-to-retirement sleep-inducer. The world is vast, full of wonders.
How did the top nobles like dukes endure this mass twice already?
Made me think, that's why they're dukes.
By the way, Count of Nant, seated above me, had his eyes closed, quietly dozing by the third hour of the sermon.
Word would spread soon: the disloyal noble sleeping during the emperor's memorial sermon.
But after this, until the final eulogy declaring the emperor 'fully deceased' in a week, I had no obligations to attend banquets.
Planning a brief rest in the capital, Ella entered my room and said,
"Master, a hunter suddenly showed up with the wild boar Baron of Kroitel ordered, demanding payment and making a fuss. Should I tell Baldt to chase him off?"
My informant had arrived at last. Wild boar meat—clever cover.
I handed Ella a gold coin and said,
"No, Ella. Pay him with this, and bring the hunter here. Have the boar shared among the soldiers who came with me. Want some, Ella?"
Ella shook her head vigorously.
"Ella doesn't like boar meat... too tough and tasteless."
She quietly left the room.
Soon after, in with a 'fake hunter'—pale-skinned despite the boar leather armor and hunter's cap.
"From Viscount Brandel?"
"Yes. And this is a letter from His Excellency for Baron of Kroitel. Please read."
Finishing, the fake hunter handed me the letter.
It read:
[Three days from now, evening. Enter the fourth confessional in Elisium Cathedral dressed as a priest. His Grace the Duke will come under pretense of confession. Hopefully, this settles our prior unpleasantness.]
I thought he was an idiot, but it was just court noble obliviousness to the provinces?
Even a king couldn't casually enter confessionals—secrets were safe there...
If I disguised as a priest, no one would even know I'd met the duke.
I tossed a few gold coins to the helpful informant and said,
"Good. Take this. Burn the letter."
The informant lit the letter with the candle before me, pocketed the gold, and slipped out quietly.
Normally, I'd be blowing fortunes on banquets right now, yet here's an easy shot at the duke.
At this rate, is the universe on my side?