Chapter 123: Queen Maker (21)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 123: Queen Maker (21)
The Prona Kingdom is dominated by four great noble families.
In the south, the Oller Ducal Family.
In the east, the Sentry Count Family.
In the north, the Collins Ducal Family.
In the west, the Lopez Count Family.
In their respective territories, they wielded authority as powerful as the king’s. That was why Callion Oller, the legitimate heir of the Oller family, was utterly flabbergasted.
Why have the North and the West knelt?
The great nobles were beings that even the king could not treat lightly.
It was strange enough that they had knelt, but to think they had answered the summons?
The more the king’s authority waned, the more they stood to gain. Why would they go out of their way to help the king?
Are they trying to indebt the fledgling queen?
While Callion was lost in his own speculation, Cloud extended a hand toward the rulers of the Prona Kingdom’s northern and western territories.
“Thank you for complying, even though it was more of a one-sided notice. You must have had a difficult time assembling your armies so quickly. I will not forget the efforts of you both.”
“Not at all. We have only fulfilled our duty as vassals.”
“The same is true for me.”
As he finished speaking, Duke Collins produced a round, metal medallion from his coat and placed it on Cloud’s palm.
A dragon’s crest was engraved on it.
The eyes of the nobles who recognized it trembled uncontrollably.
“The… the Ferdiac family’s medallion…?”
One of the five ducal families of the Empire, and the most prestigious of houses, which had produced the Hero, Frillite.
For mere nobles of a kingdom, they were beings one was not even permitted to meet.
That was the Ducal House of Ferdiac.
So why was Cloud, not Frillite, in possession of such a family’s medallion?
Noticing the questioning gazes of the nobles, Cloud tucked the medallion into his coat and said, “It’s not a family token, but a guest medallion. A gift, of course.”
Who would have gifted him such a thing?
It wasn’t difficult to figure out.
There was only one person in the Ferdiac family with whom he had any connection.
Frillite de Ferdiac…
The nobles’ expressions hardened as they recalled the reputation of the Red Demon. A risk like her had not been part of their plan.
Had they known beforehand that Cloud and Frillite were that close, they would never have gotten involved in this matter.
After all, the influence wielded by Frillite alone was greater than that of Lorian and his entire family combined.
The losses from confronting her would far outweigh any potential gains.
The nobles bit their lips, calculating the damage their families would suffer because of this incident.
Cloud turned to the man with the mustache.
“Anything else to say?”
“…Sir Hero, this is a misunderstanding—”
“I guess not.”
Cloud’s sword vanished for an instant. As the mustached man blinked, a thin red line appeared on his neck. The line grew steadily more distinct.
“Huh…?”
Those were the last words of his life.
With a light push from Cloud, the man’s head separated from his body and rolled across the floor. The headless neck spewed blood, drenching the clothes of the surrounding nobles and knights.
A heavy silence fell.
No one in the inn screamed or made a fuss. The nobles, their faces pale as sheets, stared at either the corpse or Cloud.
Amidst the silence, Callion cautiously spoke up.
“…Sir Hero. Don’t you think you’ve gone too far? To so easily take the head of a noble, not some commoner. Can you handle the consequences?”
At first glance, his words sounded like a warning.
But if one looked deeper, it was clear they were nothing more than a pathetic plea for his own life.
A plea not to kill them because they were nobles.
Wiping the blood from his cheek, Cloud replied, “I don’t think my head will fly for killing one or two scumbags like this. It won’t be any different for a third.”
“…”
Not wanting to be the third, Callion shut his mouth. The others did the same. Cloud lost interest in the nobles who had tucked their tails between their legs.
“Duke Collins, Count Lopez. I apologize for asking this of you as soon as you’ve arrived, but please place them under arrest.”
Leaving those words behind, he walked out of the inn. As he walked alone down the darkening street, he took out the Ferdiac guest medallion.
I didn’t intend to use this for political purposes…
Would Frillite be angry if she found out?
No, I’d be lucky if she was just angry.
What if she says she’s disappointed and wants to cut ties?
Cloud gazed at the guest medallion with a distant look in his eyes before clenching his fist and crushing it to dust.
*
Lorian’s eyes fluttered open to a strange sensation, as if something was wrapped around his body.
A purple full moon.
Below it stretched a vast plain, covered in withering, dying grass.
Lorian blinked, taking in the mystical yet desolate scenery.
“What the…”
He looked down. The strange feeling was coming from the purple thorn vines coiled around his body.
He might not recognize anything else, but this was familiar.
The Constraint Witch.
These were her thorn vines.
What? Why am I tied up in this? I was…
He flinched.
As his mind cleared, Lorian remembered what had happened and his body trembled. Slowly, his face twisted into a hideous scowl.
“Constraint Witch!”
If he was bound by her vines, she had to be nearby. He shouted into the desolate, violet-tinged landscape, but the witch did not appear.
Lorian yelled again, his voice louder this time.
“Where is the Constraint Witch! Show yourself at once!”
—So noisy.
The Constraint Witch’s voice pierced his mind. Unlike her previously languid tone, it was sharp and cutting.
In front of Lorian, purple thorn vines shot up from the ground and began to intertwine. The vines, twisted into a human shape, transformed into a woman with skin as fair as jade.
The woman’s light purple eyes glared at Lorian, filled with killing intent.
“You… Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me, shouting so brazenly…?”
“That’s what I’d like to ask! I demanded that you restrain Cloud for five seconds. But you released him in less than three. Why? Why did you break the contract! Because you broke it on a whim, I…”
Lorian couldn’t continue, biting his lip in frustration.
On the day he was humiliated by Cloud, Lorian had sworn revenge.
He would pay back the humiliation he suffered dozens of times over.
He would win the woman he loved.
To catch both those rabbits, he needed power and authority.
Immense power and authority.
So Lorian had returned to the kingdom, united the nobles to build a solid political foundation, and persuaded his father, the king, to pass down the national treasure, the Armor of the Lion King, to increase his strength.
When he thought he had gathered enough power, an opportunity arose.
Eager to achieve his ambitions as quickly as possible, Lorian had seized the chance, only to fall flat on his face.
What was the reason for his plan’s failure?
If he looked hard enough, there were probably many. But he couldn’t deny that one of them was that damned witch.
Lorian glared at the Constraint Witch with hatred. Receiving his gaze, the witch let out a hollow laugh as if she found it absurd.
“Ha… Haha… You really don’t know, do you…? What… what you’ve done to me…?”
She clenched her fist.
The thorn vines wrapped around Lorian tightened.
“Guhk…”
Lorian winced in pain, but her expression didn’t change.
“A thousand years. A whole thousand years. That’s how long I’ve been laying low, hiding so I wouldn’t catch the eye of those bastards! But because of you, it’s all been ruined.”
“Kgh… Was… was restraining a single Hero for five seconds really that dangerous…?”
“A single…? Did you just say a single? No, right? I must have misheard you, right? Because there’s no way anyone with common sense would describe that as a single anything!!!”
Squeeze—
The vines tightened even more. An ordinary person would have been crushed already, but the sturdy Lorian was able to endure it.
“Kuaaargh…!”
Though it hurt like hell.
“Shut your mouth. I can’t stand the sound of your voice.”
Thorn vines covered Lorian’s mouth, and not a single sound could escape his lips.
After a long moment, her eyes, once filled with passion, grew dark and sank.
The Constraint Witch spoke in a somber voice.
“I have to abandon this place, everything I’ve built, and run. I’ll spend the rest of my life wandering without a single sanctuary. All because of your one little request. Don’t you think that’s just too miserable?”
“…”
Lorian couldn’t answer, his mouth sealed by the vines.
The witch hadn’t been expecting a reply anyway. She caressed Lorian’s cheek and continued.
“The only silver lining is that my life isn’t the only one that’s miserable. The price you offered… it was your destiny, wasn’t it?”
“…!”
“Don’t look at me like that. I’ll only take an equivalent price, just as the contract states. Yes, an equivalent price.”
The witch smiled, bringing her lips to his ear.
“Listen well. From now on, your life will be filled with grief and despair. You will lose your reputation, your fame, your trust, and your popularity. In the end, you will even lose that pathetic life of yours. I swear it on my name as the Constraint Witch, Eriache.”
The Constraint Witch, Eriache, met Lorian’s gaze.
“Your end will be utterly, utterly miserable.”
A demonic aura swirled in her light purple eyes.
.
.
.
.
.
“Hahk…!”
Lorian’s eyes shot open, and he sat up reflexively. He whipped his head around, surveying his surroundings. It was a small space enclosed by stone walls and dense iron bars.
“Where is this…?”
“It’s the dungeon, Sir Hero.”
From a cell across the way, the Saint Candidate Marietta, locked up with the other women, answered his question.
Her face was filled with discontent.
No, it wasn’t just her.
The rest of his companions wore similar expressions. Just as Lorian, sensing this, was about to say something, a throbbing headache pulsed through him, and something like a memory replayed in his mind.
—Listen well… young… lose… losing… in the end… even—
But the memory was hazy, as if shrouded in fog.
A woman had been looking at him and saying something, but he couldn’t recall her appearance, let alone her words.
“Brother? Are you alright?”
Inside the dungeon, only Lorraine voiced her concern for him.
Lorian didn’t answer.
He was only trying to recall the blurry memory.
But no matter how hard he tried, the memory only grew fainter, never coming into focus.
*
“H-Huh…? What did you say?”
Eri asked again, her voice trembling. I repeated what I had just said, enunciating each word clearly.
“I’m talking about Callion. Your brother. Normally, he should be executed, but if you want, I can think of another way. What do you want to do?”