A Hidden Secret?
"A hidden secret?"
Simon tilted his head. Count Boldmont's eyes gleamed as he leaned his upper body toward Simon.
"Yes, which is exactly why you should join hands with me."
An out-of-nowhere proposal of alliance.
"I've had every one of your moves reported to me. Your impressive showing at Kizen, of course, and how you entered the service of Grand Duke Jen without forming any personal ties whatsoever. You even blocked an arrow Jen fired! And not just any arrow — one from the Grand Duke who cut down the First of the Three Brothers with a single strike!"
The Count spread his palms open.
"Your strength would be an asset. Work with me!"
He was doing nothing but heaping praise on Simon, while still keeping his own cards hidden. Simon's reaction was somewhat tepid, and the Count chuckled.
"Fine, fine. Then let me tell you something that is truly a secret among secrets."
The Count clasped his hands together, his face turning serious.
"Resources! There are colossal underground deposits buried in the North — near the Frost Field, to be precise! Just from what I've confirmed so far, eleven mana stone mines, and two sapphire mines!"
He spread his arms wide.
"Can you imagine it? You and me. Enough reserves for our entire families to live in opulence for generations without earning a single coin! Those barbaric Northerners have no idea of its worth! Even when you explain it to them, they couldn't care less. All they say is, 'What good does that do our life of struggle?' Fools who know nothing but fighting! If they'd just pick up the gems lying around down there and sell them, they could build magnificent mansions and live out their days in the warm, peaceful South without ever having to look at another monster!"
He clapped his palms together with a sharp slap.
"Let's do it! Ten percent!"
Then he pointed at Simon's chest.
"I'll give you ten percent of all revenue! Together, we'll turn the world upside down! Kick the backsides of those high-ranking nobles who laugh at us...!"
"Hold on."
Simon raised a hand. The excited Count stopped mid-sentence and blinked.
"Don't like the terms? Then fifteen percent?"
"No, no. The premise itself is strange."
Simon sighed inwardly and continued.
"The North is the Grand Duke's land. How exactly do you plan to take the mines?"
"To be precise, only the North *excluding* the Frost Field belongs to the Grand Duke. And honestly, that part is nothing to worry about. I've built an airtight plan! The Northerners don't understand the value of underground resources, so with a few clever touches to the contract, wresting ownership of the mines away will be no trouble at all."
He'd already thought all the way to the contracts? Simon gave a bitter smile.
"You've only just gotten rid of the Three Brothers. Isn't that getting ahead of yourself?"
"Is it, though?"
Count Boldmont wore a meaningful expression.
"The Northern God, having lost the Three Brothers, is nothing. The God is terrifying only because it commands a vast number of undead — its true body has no combat ability whatsoever! It could never stop the Grand Duke. This war is as good as over."
He pointed at Simon once more with his fingertip.
"What matters is this: while everyone else is focused on destroying the Northern God, we broaden our vision and think about what comes after!"
"......"
Simon closed his eyes.
Still concealing his most important card, circling around the point with roundabout words. Count Boldmont was young, but no pushover.
With an opponent like this—
"When the war ends, you're asking me to betray the Grand Duke?"
It was better to drop the pretense and strike at the core.
In a fleeting instant, Simon saw the Count's fingertips tremble slightly. But his expression was still smiling pleasantly.
"Not betrayal — simply handling matters effectively, for everyone's sake. It's all a path forward for the North."
The Count answered proudly, gesturing to his own chest.
"Did I ever say I'd swallow the resource profits all by myself? Once the war with the Northern God is over, the North will have no choice but to change, whether it likes it or not. The Pride of Protection, courage, fighting prowess — none of it will be needed anymore. I will free the Northerners from mere survival, make them live like proper human beings, let them enjoy life as much as it deserves."
He tapped his chin lightly.
"Of course, it's true that the new North after the war will have no need for an absurd outlier monster like Grand Duke Jen. Hmm, ideally he'd volunteer to go serve somewhere like the Holy Federation front line."
Simon took away many things from that conversation.
Decades of love and hate for the North he had lived in for over ten years.
An inferiority complex toward the Grand Duke, with his absolute strength and charisma.
And above all—
"You."
Simon stared quietly at Count Boldmont.
"You deny the North's culture."
The duality of a man who held love and hate for the North, yet denied its very culture.
"That's right."
The Count raised his hands and admitted it without a shred of hesitation.
"Have you ever tried to earn the Northerners' recognition?"
"I see no need to earn some barbarian's approval."
The Count's perpetually relaxed expression sharpened.
"I have spent all this time building railways connecting North and South! I've negotiated with merchant companies to keep food supplied without a single gap! I've provided every necessary material without shortage, and tried to bring diverse cultures flowing in. I've played my part for the North too! And yet the residents just insult me as a money-grubbing slob who only knows how to punch numbers into a calculator, and laugh at me!"
The Count's face flushed crimson.
"Ten years! I came to the North at nine years old and lived here for a full ten years, and those people *still* call me an 'outsider' or a 'Southerner'! I've lived in the North longer than I ever lived in the South! If not for me, every one of them would have starved to death, unable to survive the winter!"
BANG!
He slammed his fist down on the armrest.
"Why? Why is it that here, a person who doesn't fight is treated like garbage? Everyone simply has different things they're good at! I—!"
The Count bit his lip hard at that point.
A fierce will was visible — the determination that those next words, of all words, must never be spoken. Before long, whether his emotions had settled or not, he let out a long breath.
"Sorry, friend. You had to see an ugly sight."
"It's fine."
Simon, an outsider himself, understood his feelings.
From his very first day in the North, the warriors had picked fights with Simon, and on the second day, he'd faced retaliation. Of course, Simon had the strength to deal with it — but what about ordinary people without power?
And.
Simon recalled the servants he'd seen in this mansion.
One might assume they were simply hired for the Count's convenience, but their wrists and necks bore the marks of chains.
Criminals, most likely — people who had committed crimes and fled north.
But people who weren't strong enough to adapt even to the North. Count Boldmont had been taking in outsiders who could never become Northerners.
The Grand Duke had the Grand Duke's justice.
The Count had the Count's justice.
Which side should he choose?
"Simon."
Count Boldmont pointed at Simon with his index and middle fingers pressed together.
"Twenty percent of all mine revenue. Honestly, our finances are stretched thin just rebuilding the North, but that is the utmost sincerity I can offer."
"......"
"I don't know how long you'll stay in the North before returning to Kizen, but the necromancer life is expensive, isn't it?"
The corner of his mouth curled upward.
"By the time you return to Kizen, you'll be the wealthiest financier Kizen has ever seen! Ah, of course, I'm not asking you to answer right now. Take your time and think it over—"
"No. I'll tell you right now."
Simon rose from his seat and gathered his coat.
Simon had left.
Count Boldmont stood with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing quietly out the window.
I'm sorry, but I'll pretend I never heard that proposal.
That had been Simon's answer.
The Count wore a wry smile as he looked out the window. In the distance, he could see Simon returning alone to the Grand Duke's castle.
Knock knock knock.
"My lord."
"Come in."
An elderly head butler entered.
"Student Council President Simon......"
"Regrettably, it seems we won't be able to bring him over to our side."
Count Boldmont turned around.
"There's no room for choice anymore. Maintain the plan as it stands."
The head butler bowed deeply at the waist.
"Yes, my lord. I shall follow your orders."
The next morning.
Simon reported to the Grand Duke's castle again today.
The warriors who had been visible all over the streets and castle grounds — the very ones who had drunk themselves stupid just yesterday — were working away without a hitch. The traces of the duels had been tidied up cleanly, and even the wounded, having wrapped on a few bandages and shaken themselves off, were preparing for their next battle.
The decisive battle with the Northern God is close now.
Simon, too, as a Legion Commander, had to grow far stronger than he was now. Steeling his resolve once more, he knocked on the office door.
Knock knock knock.
"Grand Duke, it's Simon."
THUD!
CRASH CLATTER CLATTER!
A tremendous racket came from inside the office, along with the sound of someone scampering frantically about. Simon, a little startled, knocked again.
"Is something the matter?"
"Nothing is the matter! Do not come in yet!"
A short while later—
Simon entered. The room around him was tidied up impeccably. And there sat a black-haired woman, her back still turned in her chair.
"You're in uniform today, not training clothes?"
Simon remarked as he sat down on the guest sofa.
"One cannot spend every day training."
She said it with her back still turned. Simon glanced at the training top peeking out of the drawer, half-spilled from it.
"Did you sleep well last night?"
Simon made small talk as usual, but somehow the Grand Duke's responses were not quite themselves today.
She gave short answers, or sometimes replied only after a noticeable delay.
Above all, since he'd entered the office, she had not turned to look at Simon even once.
Sweat beaded down Simon's face.
D-did I do something wrong?
Something might have gone wrong when he'd carried the drunken Grand Duke to her bedroom last night. Perhaps he'd said or done something she found unpleasant.
But if it wasn't that kind of mistake—
"Um."
Simon lifted his head and looked the Grand Duke squarely in the eye.
"I went to meet Count Boldmont yesterday."
Many of the warriors had seen him speaking with the Count's servant, and right after that, Simon had vanished from the banquet hall.
People must have guessed he'd gone to meet the Count.
Given that relations between the Grand Duke and Count Boldmont could hardly be good, he'd have no excuse even if word got back. It was probably better to lay the facts bare here.
"I see."
She still did not turn around.
"He knew my name and status precisely, so I wanted to confirm things."
"Right."
The Grand Duke gave a small shrug.
"Obvious. He must have offered you some deal or another again."
As if to say the gist was easy to guess.
Simon nodded.
"Whatever was discussed in there, whether you accepted his deal or not — it's of no concern to me."
The Grand Duke rose from her seat.
"Ours is a transactional relationship of mutual use, is it not? I teach you, and you cooperate with me. That is all. You making another deal with someone else is no problem of mine."
Simon smiled faintly. She spun on her heel and strode away.
"Come. The day of the decisive battle is nearly upon us. Today's training will focus on practical combat."
"Yes, ma'am!"
Yet even as Simon followed the Grand Duke out, she never once looked back at him.
Simon scratched the side of his head.
And then—
This is so difficult.
The Grand Duke was dragging her palm down over her face.
All I have to do is ask. Why am I dragging this out like this? It's so unlike me.
The Grand Duke stole a glance back at Simon.
But the moment she was about to meet his eyes, she hastily turned her gaze forward again, looking straight ahead.
Ever since that night, she hadn't been able to look at him properly. Because that face kept overlaying itself in her mind whenever she did.
He really is absurdly like him.