Chapter 73
Chapter 73
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 73
Chapter Title: Great Leap (5)
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The deepest part of the barracks was primarily the room where the highest-ranking commander stayed and also served as his office.
Because of that, even within the barracks—which were already difficult to extract secrets from due to all sorts of security measures—this place was the most strictly controlled.
That's why barons occasionally placed small but expensive luxury beds in the commander's room for secret trysts with their lovers.
Because the area was so tightly controlled, no one except the duty soldiers and officers of the commander's office could know what went on inside.
As I entered the innermost part of the barracks where the commander stayed, there—as expected—sat a "sixtysomething man with sharp eyes" at the desk in the office.
The duke's figure, clad in a top-class overcoat of red velvet fabric far more expensive than silk and embroidered with his family crest in gold thread, exuded an overwhelming aura of intimidation.
No exaggeration—if Ella saw the duke sitting here like this, she'd probably whimper "Master is scary!" while hiding her face against my back and refusing to look.
Behind him stood another sixtysomething man in white velvet attire with a coat embroidered in silver thread, a rapier engraved with gold embroidery at his side.
The pressure radiating from these two felt much like the emotion I'd experienced facing dozens of mounted knights during the Sternheim battle when we repelled Schwein von Nant.
So I flinched for an instant, but shrinking back here would be like bowing to them with my eyes wide open...
I straightened my back and knelt on one knee—not obsequiously toward the duke, but not overly bold either—offering my greetings.
"Baron Siel von Kroitel humbly pays respects to Your Highness, the Duke of Brussels, lion of Brussels. It is an honor that will shine upon my family for ten thousand generations that you receive me so graciously."
After hearing my greeting, the duke laughed so hard he clutched his belly for a good thirty seconds before speaking.
"Cut the crap, Count Kroitel. The White Reaper of the battlefield who repelled 1,800 knights with 2,000 infantry doesn't need to bow to this old man like that. You weren't planning to anyway, right?"
But you're thinking that if I don't bow right away, you'll seize the moment, bellow to shatter my focus, and then negotiate.
Even if I'm on the verge of getting my count title approved, if a lowly baron who isn't a count yet commits lese-majeste against Your Highness... the fallout would be enormous...
To steer the negotiations a bit more in my favor, I smiled and offered sincere praise for the duke from the heart.
"I believe news of our army's conscription and training methods has already spread far and wide, but you're the only one who's actually adopted them, Your Highness. To instill 'honor and responsibility' when enlisting soldiers, you've even devised baptisms for them and use signing bonuses to equip them with weapons and armor. Therefore, I guarantee that Your Highness's army will undoubtedly play the greatest role in the war of imperial succession that's about to begin in earnest. A minor count like me has no choice but to seek Your Highness's mercy if he wants to survive."
Everything I said was pure fact.
Honestly, if I could just stabilize the entire County of Nant, I could knock back a shot, back one imperial successor, join the war, and win...
But our Nant is too far from Elisium, the Elrain Empire's capital and imperial city, to participate on our own.
Thus, among those able to join the 'Great Game' of the imperial succession war, the Duke of Brussels—with the largest forces and the system to produce the most elite troops—is already destined to win.
The duke pondered my words for a moment before speaking, his face full of curiosity.
Actually, he already knew—but if I didn't answer properly, he asked with a smile fierce enough to devour me whole.
"Is that so? According to Baron Wilhelm, who secretly watched the war against Schwein at Sternheim, your infantry is the strongest in Europa?"
"Even if they are the strongest, I have no intention of aiming for His Imperial Majesty's regency. Naturally, I won't participate in the war to enthrone the emperor either. The reason... Your Highness knows it too, doesn't he?"
Hearing that, the duke laughed and said,
"Even if you say that, I can't believe it at all! Wilhelm said that even with our 3,000 knights, we'd definitely get crushed by your 5,000 infantry in a place like Sternheim."
"Your Highness, even Baron Wilhelm's keen eye aside, that's..."
To my rebuttal, the duke replied as if it were nonsense.
"Wilhelm is a Swordmaster recognized on a blade stained with Franch blood. That guy wouldn't mispredict the 'outcome of a clash of arms'."
I couldn't find words to counter that.
Because although this world lacked magic power, the title of Swordmaster existed—and those who bore it were acknowledged as the pinnacle of knighthood in martial prowess, regardless of status.
In fact, a Swordmaster could defeat three knights even in a 3-to-1 fight—a true knight among knights.
Against regular peasant soldiers, with a touch of exaggeration, they could win 100-to-1.
Of course, stripped of armor, even 10-to-1 would be tough.
But with armor, no attack from 100-to-1 would land.
Thus, rebutting a Swordmaster's assurance solely on 'clash of arms' without basis would get me branded a 'Schwein'.
"My humility was excessive."
"Good that you know. And what I learned to build this infantry unit? It was you. When you headed off to fight that pig bastard, fearing you might win, I sent 'spies' to investigate. This unit was built solely from the info gathered by the spy who enlisted as a private about a month later. No wonder it's lacking in so many ways."
I'd already guessed the duke had copied how I gathered and trained infantry by observing this unit's operations...
But to think he'd pieced together such a massive unit system from the extremely fragmentary reports of a spy who infiltrated as a lowly private...
This was a typical duke of the era? Damn, my chest swells with pride.
Schwein's grave was calling—I wanted to smash his tombstone again. If only I'd been under this man, I'd have lived easy!!
The duke seemed to love my frustrated expression, beaming with the brightest smile I'd seen from him yet as he spoke.
"Oh, and that guy you were asking around about? He's the spy who enlisted as a private. He performed so well that I recognized his talent and made him a company commander. I've even set aside a fief to knight him if he racks up merits in the next real battle. Keep it secret from him."
Why had this duke stolen even the merit-based promotions and treatment I'd thought I pioneered?
Next thing you know, he'll decree his own medals tailored to his territory. I'm losing my mind.
So I just let out a hollow laugh.
"I never imagined a noble of Your Highness's prestige would adopt my methods... truly."
"If it's good, you learn it. At first, I was pissed learning from a young punk in his early twenties, but the more I observed and analyzed you, the less I minded. Right, Jack?"
The man behind the duke laughed and replied.
"Exactly. I still remember Your Highness clutching your head and shouting, 'Damn it, why did Deus bring me into this world—and that Kroitel bastard too?'"
"Drop it... embarrassing memory. Who'd expect me past sixty to spout lines like that—and for you to hear them..."
"Well, Your Highness and I shared everything but beds in our youth, exaggerating a bit. First times were separate."
"Count Hent, shut your mouth already. Keep flapping and I'll dock your pay."
"We both feared pay cuts back when we were bastards. Now? Doesn't faze us. It's been twenty years since Your Highness stopped paying my salary, hasn't it?"
"......"
Normally, I'd crack a smile at high nobles bantering like that and let my guard slip.
No, middle-aged dads sixty years my senior—a duke and count far above me—bickering like high schoolers at their age was downright hilarious.
Some weirdos even called scenes like this "cute"...
But in a 'meeting of nobles above count rank', dropping your guard gets you called a brainless bastard—no, a Schwein.
Because the moment I relaxed, those wicked count and duke would bow with eyes open, then—bored—claim an arm as a souvenir.
So with that evil comedy staged by those political geniuses right in front of me, I stared at them with an even more serious expression.
Then the two spoke in disappointed tones, as if they'd expected it.
"When I was that age, I'd have bitten and dropped my guard just seeing that. As expected of Kroitel—not fooled. Look at that face, glaring like he wants to kill someone."
"My apologies, Your Highness. Even after your tale, I..."
"No loss, so it's fine."
My prediction was spot on...
For now, both Brussels and Hent needed me alive to pry something from me, so killing me here wasn't on the table.
However, they were reversal heroes in politics with three times my experience and seniority—and twice the numbers.
The thoroughness to corner me for talks in their most advantageous place and situation, when I was most flustered.
At this point, one might relax—but their wicked resolve to squeeze even a speck of dust from a mark like me, casting honor and prestige aside... the epitome of ideal politicians.
Continuing the pre-negotiation 'standoff' would only hurt me, so I abandoned starting from a position of strength.
Damn—whatever the negotiation, beginning from superiority maximizes gains...
You're the first since my reincarnation to make me forfeit that, Your Highness...
"I'll be direct, Your Highness. What do you want?"
The duke grinned from ear to ear and said,
"You're human after all. Good—what I want is simple. Here's a summary of the terms. Let's negotiate."
"I humbly receive it, Your Highness."
Then I read the contract outlining the duke's approximate terms.
The contents were roughly as follows.
1. Recognizes Count Kroitel's governing rights over the County of Nant he occupied, its subordinate baronies, the County of Helsman, and the County of Kroitel.
2. For the above, the House of Duke of Brussels will guarantee negotiations with the imperial family; upon recognition of the count title, Count Kroitel shall tribute 10,000 gold coins in return.
3. The House of Duke of Brussels is the patron of the House of Count Kroitel and bears the duty to protect it.
4. In exchange, the House of Count Kroitel shall provide support to the House of Duke of Brussels to the maximum extent needed.
5. Henceforth, the two houses shall treat each other as liege and vassal; the head of the House of Count Kroitel shall meet with the head of the House of Duke of Brussels once every year or two to discuss the peace of Elrain.
6. Both parties shall uphold 1~5; should the head of the House of Count Kroitel agree, the House of Duke of Brussels shall strengthen the alliance by sending a daughter to Siel von Kroitel for a marriage alliance.
Basically, "crawl under me if you don't want to lose"—why phrase it so elaborately...
But in my current situation, full territorial recognition plus title approval for 10,000 gold coins? Profitable deal.
Unless the duke was mad, he wouldn't disdain me once I commanded over 20,000 soldiers as strong as knights in a few years.
Worst case, I'd become the duke's house's 'lead vassal'—treated equal to or above Count Hent right there.
And with me aboard, the House of Duke of Brussels would 100% throne their preferred imperial claimant...
If lucky, duke as regent, me as prime minister—not bad terms.
Confirming I'd finished the contract, the duke beamed like the sun and asked me,
"Count Kroitel, be honest. If you and I join forces, we win the imperial succession war hands down. Your soldiers just need to train my infantry—we'd command over 50,000 elite foot soldiers and about 5,000 knights, dominating every battlefield. Three years of war, and we install a puppet emperor. I'd be regent, and you? Imperial prime minister. Power, women, wealth... everything—don't you want it? And if I succeed in crowning the emperor, I'll help make your concubine Ella your principal wife. Sure, it'd mean taking my concubine's daughter... but whatever. So, what's your answer?"
At that moment, the duke looked like the devil himself.
Sweeter than sugar, whiter than snow—the beautiful temptation of the devil who lured Deus in the scriptures...
After a moment's thought, I opened my mouth.
"I..."