Chapter 60
Chapter 60
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 60
Chapter Title: Laying the Groundwork for the Divine Masterstroke (5)
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His Imperial Majesty's funeral mass was more magnificent, solemn, and splendid than any other event.
In the Elisium Cathedral used for the service, silk banners over three meters wide emblazoned with the crests of all counts and higher nobles taking part in the funeral hung proudly, while the ornate carriages of all barons and above lined up in a row.
Beside the carriages, the guards escorting the nobles marched slowly in cloaks embroidered with their family crests in gold and silver thread, and gleaming silver armor. The citizens watching from the sidelines said it looked like "the Milky Way marching."
However, amid that beautiful procession, for me—a mere baron—this event was nothing but an insanely tedious ordeal.
Showing off noble dignity is fine and all, but did they really have to line up in carriages like this...?
So I vented my frustration to Ella, who was sitting demurely in front of me.
"Ella, this is so boring... How long do we have to keep this up?"
"Just a little longer, and you should be able to go, Master..."
"You think so?"
I peeked out the carriage window to check how much longer until it was my turn, but...
Countless carriages were still queued up, heading toward the cathedral entrance.
Baldt waiting outside would be better off. The weather's cool, so even in armor, he won't be hot...
But staring blankly out the window won't help anything.
I should just think about how to pick a fight with Schwein in a way that gives me clear justification to crush him and sever our lord-vassal ties.
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"The great and majestic Chroni von Elrain XIII, Emperor of the Elrain Empire, now goes to the side of the gods. O great Deus, behold these nobles gathered here in one heart and mind to honor his virtues and majesty... Forgive his sins and grant him passage to heaven..."
Even as the archbishop droned on with his "pre-scripted lines," sobs began to rise from the seats of some great nobles.
"Sob... Your Majesty... Why leave us so soon?"
"Your Majesty, it was your empire. We were there with you..."
"You promised to name my grandson when he was born, so why go already...?"
Meanwhile, in the seats for barons and viscounts like me, there were fewer people focused on the "funeral" and more engaged in "constructive" talk about the future with their neighbors.
"Hey, Baron Rantel, who does your lord, Marquis Brunch, plan to back?"
"No one knows but His Excellency himself. What about your lord, Baron Watson?"
"Our Duke intends to support Second Prince. If Marquis Brunch also has... intentions..."
No matter how boring and meaningless the funeral of an emperor we only know by name seems to lower nobles like us...
Shouldn't a noble who swore loyalty at least pretend to listen instead of chattering?
As I sat quietly waiting for the service to end, a baron I didn't know—but who was sitting next to me anyway—nudged my side and spoke up.
"Baron Kroitel. Who does your lord, Count Nant, plan to back?"
Since I'll be usurping the Count of Nant title anyway, I can ignore him...
Might as well be honest.
"I've lived in the countryside my whole life, so I don't know nobles from other regions well. Who might you be...?"
"I'm Clark von Aslan, lord of the Aslan Barony. I serve Marquis Silver."
"I see...? Asking me who we're backing means you already have a 'prince successor' lined up to support."
At my words, Baron Aslan leaned in close to my ear and whispered so quietly no one else could hear.
"We're backing First Prince. He's a bastard son, sure... but he's still the First Prince, isn't he? So persuade Count Nant well..."
Everyone seems to tacitly allow this kind of "chit-chat," so while we're at it, maybe I should hear their terms?
This could give me insight into how other nobles view Count Nant.
"Then tell me the price you'll pay Count Nant to convince him."
"Good. Marquis Silver promises the Finance Minister post and 10,000 gold coins if he wins the throne war."
Even for the Count of Nant, with the economy of a duchy, offering just a ministerial post and 10,000 gold—no land or marriage alliance—for joining the imperial succession fight...?
How much of a loser do they think he is to make that offer...?
"No way I could convince him with that. Even independent barons with some power wouldn't take it."
"Ugh... Fine. Marquis Silver's youngest daughter will marry Count Nant."
"Did Marquis Silver himself say—"
"I may not look it, but I'm one of His Excellency's closest aides. I can convince him easily."
Believe that at face value? Only an idiot would...
I had nothing better to do, and I'd be stuck at this funeral mass for hours anyway, so I played along with the old man's words—gleaning some reputation intel on Count Nant before I subjugate him.
And soon enough, the cardinal's words signaling the end of the funeral mass rang out.
"This concludes the funeral mass for His late Imperial Majesty."
With that, the royals, dukes, marquises, and counts up front began filing out of the cathedral in order.
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After a long wait, it was finally the barons' turn to exit the cathedral.
Ah, fresh air after hours... I can breathe again.
Now to expose Schwein's idiot antics in front of the crowd, sever the lord-vassal ties, and...
Declare war. Where's Count Nant?
Looking around for Schwein, I spotted him soon enough.
A massive body that looked over 100 kilos, short stature propped up by high-heeled shoes to seem taller...
Everyone else skipped the heels for a funeral, but this guy...
Then I heard Ella's voice near Schwein.
"Count Nant, have you seen Baron Kroitel?"
Schwein replied in an irritated tone.
"Kroitel... He'll be out soon. But why are you waiting here for that Siel fellow?"
"His carriage was moved, so I came to guide him there."
"I see... But you know..."
Schwein eyed Ella up and down like he was licking her and said,
"You know when to come out and when to go in. Prettiest face among any woman I've seen... Mm..."
Ella, as if knowing what came next, looked at Schwein in terror and said,
"Ella belongs to Baron Kroitel... So she can't belong to you, Count..."
"Even nobles have limits. He's just a baron, and I'm a count. Plus, I'm his lord... So don't worry, Ella. A decent compensation to Siel will settle it."
...Is he insane? No, why pull this crap in front of everyone?
Fine, trying to steal another man's woman is bad enough, but is that even human?
Despite the crowd watching—needing to maintain dignity—I rushed to protect Ella from Schwein.
Just as Schwein thought he had her and reached for her chest, I wedged between them and blocked his hand.
Ella, relieved I was there, clung to my back, tears streaming down.
Schwein, pissed his scheme was foiled, glared at me and exploded.
"Siel von Kroitel, Ella's too good for you. I'll give you other women, so hand her over. This is an order from your lord."
This isn't some absolute monarchy or stratified noble fantasy Europe, so how rotten has this guy gotten in a year?
I did support those two maids I sent as concubines to rot his brain—with money, goods, and minor errands...
Even so, if he had 0.01% common sense, he couldn't steal a vassal's maid bound by a double-witch contract with a mere "order"...
But this lunatic actually tries. No more.
I wanted to end the lord-vassal ties cleanly here and fight fair in war, but now? I can vent all my pent-up rage with a few punches first.
What Schwein von Nant tried with Ella crossed a line no human should.
But scum or not, without breaking the contract first, I can't hit him.
So to build momentum for thrashing him, I knelt on one knee, bowed my head, and—for the last time—withdrew my oath of loyalty.
"Count Nant. My lord. I now withdraw my oath of loyalty."
Schwein, caught off guard, stared at me in shock.
Not giving him a moment, I pressed on with exaggerated gestures and a booming voice appealing to the crowd.
"It's not your indulgence in women and drink that breaks centuries of loyalty. When Baron Santoburg and Baron Celt—after I inherited my title—declared war on you, you didn't help. Worse, when I repelled them by God's grace, you seized 3,000 gold coins over some absurd 'peace treaty' excuse."
Schwein, with no rebuttal, blurted unfiltered what he thought.
"Th-that's because you made a peace treaty on your own! And you repelled them without my protection. Seizing 3,000 gold was merciful."
"Not just that—against Count Helsman, you promised to lead the lance charge, then fled from the vanguard. Your loyal knights died because of it. No shame?!"
This "romantic oath-breaking" felt like playing with fire, a delightful show for anyone unconnected to House Nant.
Applause and cheers rained down for me, clearly on the side of justice.
"Better to be a wandering knight than serve that trash!!"
"No, kill that trash!! Death to any noble or count who breaks oaths!!"
"Siel von Kroitel!!!"
Buoyed by the roars, I now stood tall—no more deference—with the lord-vassal contract ended, meeting his eyes directly.
"Thus, I, Siel von Kroitel, declare myself a noble of equal rank to you, serving only His Elrain Imperial Majesty! And Schwein von Nant!!"
Not giving him time to recover, I yanked off my left gauntlet and slapped it across his face.
"Daring to touch another man's woman right after His Majesty's funeral mass!! Is that human?! I challenge you to a duel!!! Let all witnesses here bear record!!!"
The crowd roared back in applause.
Soon after, I swung my right hand, slapping Schwein's cheek.
Then the left, followed by a hard kick from my right foot to his gut, knocking him down.
As the fallen Schwein raised both hands to grab my shoulders for a counter, I smashed my left shin into his right flank as hard as I could.
He flew sideways, dazed and disoriented.
I mounted his belly and pummeled his face until his jaw nearly shattered.
Schwein's nose gushed blood, his face ballooned with bruises like a bloated pufferfish.
Then I pulled the trembling Ella close with my right arm around her left shoulder, turned, and said,
"Schwein von Nant, it's war! War! I'll send a letter with the date. Lie there like the sack of shit you are!"
Whew... Beating that damn pig barehanded feels good today...