Chapter 74
Chapter 74
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 74
Chapter Title: Great Leap (6)
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"Before that, Your Grace, there's one thing I'd like to ask you."
"Answering a question with another question... Fine, speak."
And then I slammed both hands down on the desk where the duke was sitting and said,
"Your Grace, do you happen to know how a cornered rat behaves?"
"A foolish question... But yes, it bites the cat that's cornered it, doing anything to survive."
"Yes, it bites the cat to survive. So, haven't you considered that I might do the same?"
Honestly, the chances were high that he hadn't.
Because humans are animals trapped in rational thinking within the limits of their knowledge, unable to imagine anything beyond that rationality.
In history, the basic fact that 'the Earth is round,' proven in the West 300-400 years ago, wasn't believed in Joseon even when Hong Daeyong argued it with countless pieces of evidence.
Because the most rational philosophy of that era, Neo-Confucianism like the Theory of Principle and Material Force, claimed that 'the Earth is flat.'
By this principle, the duke couldn't have imagined that Siel von Kroitel, who had just conquered the territory and needed years to stabilize it, would abandon 'territorial stability' and attack the duke.
Because the Siel von Kroitel the duke had observed was a rational figure on par with or surpassing those who had endured far more experience and asuras, despite being nearly three times younger.
And as I expected, the count and the duke began to tremble in their eyes.
"I have absolutely no intention of joining Your Grace's service. Because shuttling back and forth between independent lord and Your Grace's vassal to reap benefits would eventually turn the Kroitel family into Your Grace's vassals. In the end, even becoming the empire's prime minister and crushing other dukes—what use is that? By then, we'd be no different from caged lions, not knowing when we'd die if we lost Your Grace's favor."
Right now, to them, I was an enemy like a tiger that's hard to handle.
But strangely, this tiger 'listens to reason,' and if they offered sufficient 'benefits,' it would surely grant their wishes.
So, the duke and the count probably planned to first win me over with 'benefits,' then make the other nobles in the duchy jealous of me, excluding themselves.
Then those remaining nobles would check me, envy me, and scheme from the shadows.
In that process, there was a high chance Ella or my father could be assassinated for absurd reasons.
Then I would devolve into a loyal hunting dog, forced to show even more competence and loyalty to the duke just to survive.
Because as long as the duke favored me, they couldn't cross the line to check me.
But I'm no longer a cub tiger groveling under Count Nant—there's no need to live leashed like a hunting dog to the duke.
And my intent hit the mark perfectly, as Count Hent behind the duke lost his composure first and exploded in anger.
"You bastard! Siel von Kroitel, just because His Grace looks upon you favorably, do you think you can get away with anything? Do you need to taste the iron rod of the ducal house to come to your senses? Don't you know that serving under His Grace and demonstrating your abilities is the greatest benefit to your family? His Grace personally promised you the position of imperial prime minister, and yet you call us caged lions?!"
So, to deploy the 'ultimate bluff card' I'd prepared at the most effective moment, I decided to provoke the count further.
Just reciting what I'd thought would strike them right in the core and shake them.
I bowed deeply to Count Hent and the duke in apology, then continued.
"Forgive me. But I'm quite worried, you see."
"Worried about what?"
"Your Grace's vassals will envy me. Because if I were them, I'd want to crush this fool who suddenly barged in, overtook Count Hent, and got promised the 'imperial prime minister' position in the imperial succession war—like a rolling stone. Some might even take pleasure in checking me that way."
Count Hent and the duke clenched their fists and trembled upon hearing my words.
Because they realized that no matter how they responded, the 'initiative in the conversation' would shift to me.
So, while they couldn't continue, I opened my mouth to land an additional blow.
"And Count, allow me to ask you something as well. You've supported His Grace for decades. My father also supported the count's family for a few years as their prime minister back when he was Count Nant, so I understand that feeling well."
The count interrupted midway through my words and asked,
"What feeling is that, Count Kroitel?"
"The humiliation of having your position snatched away in an instant by a rolling stone, the emptiness of feeling discarded like an old rag despite decades of service. Can you endure standing under me? What about the other vassals?"
At those words, Count Hent suppressed his anger with effort and replied in a trembling voice.
"If it's His Grace's will, I will obey... No matter how many decades I've served him, if a more capable one comes... I must step aside, mustn't I?"
He'd managed to hold back his anger somehow, but now 'they' could no longer easily demand that I join their service.
Because no matter how capable the duke was or how well he controlled his territory, if even Count Hent seemed unable to support his opinion...
It would make unilaterally appointing me as a vassal impossible.
Reading that atmosphere, the duke rose from his seat as if to threaten me, drawing his sword to my neck.
He lightly pricked my neck, drawing blood, then said in a furious voice,
"Siel von Kroitel! How dare you insult Hent in my presence—are you prepared to die? Insulting my top vassal is insulting me, so I'd love to sever your head as payment... But if you die, Nant won't stay quiet, so I'll spare you. No, if you just hand over one barony, we'll form an alliance.
What do you say? Something like the Crescent Barony would be fine."
The deal just moments ago had been the duke's ideal scenario: me keeping my territory but becoming his vassal. Seeing I wouldn't go along easily, he'd changed it.
Originally, these kinds of contracts have 'initial drafts' that are nice if accepted, but naturally fall through.
That way, both sides can claim they graciously yielded to what the other wanted.
And if the opponent is foolish enough to accept it outright, even better.
So, this current offer was likely the one originally prepared.
That's human nature: when extorting, ask for 100 million first—they won't pay—but after threatening desperately, ask for 1 million and they hand it over willingly.
History is full of such negotiations.
Now he's extorting with a slightly smaller amount, as if appealing to conscience...
In that case, it's time to put into practice the wisdom I learned in America: fire a blank at the extortionist first to make them flee.
Of course, if that fails, use real bullets—but these are intelligent people, not like Schwein, so they won't think of taking a shot. No worries there.
I placed both hands on the duke's desk, leaned forward until my face was near his, and said with a smile,
"Your Grace, we wanted to maintain friendly relations, so I didn't want to play this card."
"What method? Honestly, us taking one barony and you keeping the rest—that's the best deal."
Then, I gave the duke the most sinister, meaningful smile I could muster and said,
"Your Grace, now I'll teach you the true meaning of the proverb about a cornered rat biting."
At those words, the duke and count swallowed hard and listened intently.
"In my territory, I have 400,000 gold coins stockpiled. The money from selling sugar, salt, grain, and such is more than expected. No exaggeration—I could pave a room the size of Ella's bedroom in gold if she wanted, and still run the territory as is."
"Th-that doesn't make sense..."
"Count Kroitel, what nonsense are you spouting? Even His Imperial Majesty would cripple his territory's finances attempting such a project..."
If someone asks how this is possible, I'd answer like this.
In this era, salt is like a coal mine, and extracting sugar from beets is—slightly exaggerating—like mass-producing oil from dirt.
Moreover, with Spain's supply unstable, I control all supply to Elrain, Britannia, Romania, and Franch—equivalent to monopolizing an oil field.
In other words, I'm richer than a Middle Eastern oil king.
So, hiring mercenaries for war? No exaggeration—I could employ 100,000 for a while.
"Your Grace, nobles must indulge in luxury even if it means debt. Otherwise, they lose face and honor. To them, sugar that makes food delicious and precious is like life itself. How could I, who holds it, lack money?"
Hearing that, the duke and count seemed to recall the amount of sugar in their banquets, their pupils vibrating side to side.
"That's how I amassed 400,000 gold coins. So, rather than giving up a barony first for the future, we'll persuade Count Romelia of Franch, Count Kale and Marquis Amiens of Elrain to attack Your Grace. It'll take about a year, by which time we can train around 40,000 and join. We'd only get one county that way, but... better than starting by losing a barony."
Hearing that, the duke looked at me with despairing eyes and said,
"...Are you even human?"
"For my beloved Ella, the nobles and knights who respect me, the soldiers, and the serfs—I could become a demon or a devil. And if you wish, send spies to verify the 400,000 gold coins. Out of regard for Your Grace, I'll let any spies live—as long as they don't enter Ella's bedroom."
The count and duke, hearing my brimming confidence, stared at me blankly as if doomed.
Now that I'd completely seized the initiative, it was time to forge a treaty they could accept, while securing my benefits.
So, smiling, I proposed something realistic they'd accept, with slight benefits for them.
"However, wasting 400,000 gold coins on conscription would be too regrettable. And I have no interest in positions like imperial prime minister or regent, so I won't expand the territory further for the next three years."
The count's face finally began to relax.
"So, if we form a non-aggression and tariff reduction treaty, I won't interfere in Your Grace's imperial succession war at all. In exchange, I'll block all the Romanian offensives for you. Also, for the next year, I'll stay only in Blueport in the northwest of Kroitel Barony. How's that?"
Hearing that, the duke gave a wry smile, as if it wasn't bad, and said,
"Draw up the contract. And one last time—on an 'equal alliance' level, no desire to take my daughter? She just turned 20 this year; you'd match well... Though Ella would end up as a concubine..."
"No, thank you. And I'll marry this year or next, living like this only until then. Probably to a woman from Maxburg or Romania."
"Dull... You're no fun. Since you've come this far, the ducal tailor's exclusive artisan will make a dress for Ella, and the one for baronies will make one for that girl Chris. Gifts—take them."
"Gladly, Your Grace."
"But swear: if you break it and leave Blueport next year, you'll pay the due price."
Going to Blueport is partly so I don't meddle in your imperial throne grab idiocy, and to ease your guard...
Truth is, I'm planning to create a 'representative transit trade port for Nant' by really gouging the Northern Alliance with port specialties.
But saying that would make them think 'that Siel guy's plotting another invasion,' even if they don't say it, so I'll keep quiet.
"I'll accept Your Grace's goodwill purely. And our family specially prepared a dessert called 'ice cream' for Your Grace and me today. Cold as ice, softer than snow, with a sweetness you'll never forget. I'll even teach the recipe—serve it to your vassals to bolster your dignity."
Hearing that, the duke sneered,
"Just a dessert? Come on... Trying to satisfy me with dessert? You're hopeless in this area."
**
And over the next few days, I stayed at the duke's mansion, enjoying all services except 'sexual favors' with Ella and Chris, taking a rest.
I wanted to return to Nant right after negotiations, announce minimal stability and rewards, then hole up in Blueport...
But that would seem like I distrusted the duke, tarnishing my honor, so no choice.
And by departure, I'd successfully spread ice cream as 'a trend' among the duke and other nobles.
My effort? Just having Ella wear a pretty dress and deliciously eat white ice cream.
A girl as pure and cute as Ella—even objectively—eating white dessert was the perfect product placement.
As a result, they all wanted to try ice cream, and I gave it out for free.
Then, they all became captives of ice cream.
And I left them detailed instructions on 'how to make ice cream' and 'ingredients used.'
The remaining ingredients are available, but the magic ingredient for making ice in summer can only be bought in our territory—so it'll sell like hotcakes.
And this ice cream will gradually weaken this duchy and all of Europe by spreading 'impractical luxuries' as a cornerstone.
Yeah, you're my food from now on.