Chapter 59
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 59
Chapter Title: Alteria (1)
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"Is that so? Hmm. Gilmore Grime..."
Roderick's eyes flashed coldly.
"Yes, sir! I suggested we first deal with the gate guards and secure a few ships to block the escape route completely, but Sir Grime stubbornly insisted it was fine..."
Though Samuel Luthrus was several years Roderick's junior, he kept stealing glances at him even as he spoke.
He too hailed from the Blue Hawk Knights and led his own force, but he knew he was in no position to compare himself to Roderick.
Besides, Roderick was the man chosen as Earl Darlington's son-in-law.
A single word from him could determine the fate of Luthrus and the Crimson Wind Knights.
"So in conclusion, you let him slip away. And you exposed his identity to everyone in the process..."
Roderick stroked his chin, where unkempt stubble prickled against his palm.
"Th-that was because some punk named Lindelmann Zaroph started blabbing out of nowhere. And now rumors from the north have spread everywhere, making a huge fuss."
"Rumors from the north?"
As Roderick narrowed his eyes, Samuel Luthrus seized the moment and replied swiftly.
"Yes! Talk of the honor duel at Dunfries has already spread not just here, but to Elberra and Rochel. With this incident on top, it'll cover the entire Bran River region in a matter of days."
"That's strange. It took us less than a fortnight to come from Whitenoden Gate to here, yet rumors about him are spreading faster than we are?"
Roderick turned his head toward someone, speaking in a low voice.
"The northern lord must have gotten involved."
Jonathan, his reddish-brown hair caked in dust, spoke with a face as impassive as stone.
"Likely. He even sent the Iron Knights to Dunfries... Still, things are unfolding oddly. Why would the northern lord, who's been quiet all this time, suddenly step in?"
"Probably saw our humiliation in the north as an opportunity. It's reason enough to fan the flames deliberately. Hmph! If not for that fool from the Lancaster family..."
"No. If that were the case, he would've acted when we were pretending to linger in Nolford. Hmm..."
Roderick fell deep into thought.
Seeing this, Jonathan sensed something amiss and lapsed into his own contemplation.
As Samuel Luthrus watched the two men nervously, Roderick lowered his hand from his chin and spoke.
"We won't figure it out just sitting here. For now, send a personal letter to Elliot. Even if Craig recovers, tell him not to return immediately—keep monitoring the north a bit longer."
"Will Elliot be up to it?"
"He's cautious, so he should manage. Plus, his boyish looks make others drop their guard easily. Sir Luthrus, can you dispatch a rider to Whitenoden Gate right away?"
"Of course!"
He hurriedly summoned a knight.
Roderick wrote the letter, sealed it with his signet ring, and handed it over.
"Deliver this to Elliot Hartley at Whitenoden Gate. You have business there too, Sir Luthrus."
"Y-yes, understood."
After Samuel Luthrus and the knight left the room, a brief silence fell. Roderick took a sip of his wine, then narrowed his eyes.
"The real problem is Blake, though... We just let him waltz right into the capital. The recipient of that letter he's carrying is almost certainly tied to the imperial throne dispute. What a shame."
"Should we send someone to the capital immediately? We could relay the message in about six days, but..."
Jonathan trailed off.
Sending a rider to the capital meant handing over decision-making authority on this matter from Roderick.
Jonathan hesitated, worried it might lead to repercussions for failing his mission.
"I know what you're worried about. But no need to fret. Prince Henrik's letter is definitely headed for the capital anyway. Even if we'd intercepted Blake and seized the letter ourselves, the final reckoning would still happen in Alteria."
"But..."
"The greater good comes first. The only path to continue leading the empire on its road to glory and showcase the Blue Hawk Knights' prestige to the world is for Prince Tobias to ascend the throne, with Earl Darlington taking a major role in the imperial court. Remember that."
Roderick cut off Jonathan's lingering objection decisively.
"Understood, Sir Swent."
Jonathan nodded, his expression still uneasy.
Roderick smiled faintly at his old friend, who clearly prioritized his own safety far above the empire or Earl Darlington.
"Don't be too disappointed. It's not over yet. The real game begins once he reaches the capital—both with Prince Henrik's letter and with Blake."
"True enough. Then promise me just one thing."
"Hm?"
Roderick looked at him with feigned curiosity at this rare request from his friend.
"Blake... I'll be the one to finish him."
"...Very well."
He flashed a deep smile at Jonathan, one of the empire's finest swordsmen, whose killing intent burned hot enough to heat the air around them.
Thirty-two musicians in ivory silk formal attire played a lively martial dance tune.
In the vast marble hall, supported by intricately sculpted columns adorned with golden candelabras.
At its center, ladies in vibrant primary-colored gowns swirled like blooming flowers, gracefully tracing circles hand-in-hand with their partners.
At the head of this epitome of noble culture—the grand ball—sat the only helmeted knight in formal attire among the guests: a middle-aged man accompanied by a woman in a lavish red silk dress dripping with jeweled accessories.
They were the hosts of tonight's ball, owners of this grand hall that could seat a thousand: Prince Tobias and his wife, Duchess Abelia.
"Our second son-in-law just bought a new estate outside Edelin, and get this—the original owner..."
"Ho ho! Our youngest became a deputy commander at Blackcastle just the other day."
Flanked by guards in half-plate armor and swords under soft silver-white lighting, nobles chatted merrily around the princely couple.
"Haha, is that so."
The prince and duchess smiled warmly, indulging their every word.
And rightly so—these were his most loyal supporters, wielding considerable power and wealth.
Not comparable to the imperial family, of course, but enough to overwhelm most neighboring kingdoms of the Villand Empire.
However...
Even these formidable nobles cast cautious glances at one man conversing right beside Prince Tobias.
This noble, appearing in his early-to-mid forties like the prince, dressed far more plainly than the others.
His ankle-length tunic-like robe was so austere it could pass for clerical garb, somewhat out of place here.
Yet the fabric was rare silk, its hems and cuffs embroidered with intricate golden threads in elaborate patterns.
And the most striking peculiarity...
He was the only one, aside from Prince Tobias and the guards, carrying a 'weapon'.
The dagger, ornate with jewels and gold plating, was clearly decorative, yet no one batted an eye at him bearing arms while speaking beside the frontrunner for the throne.
Because...
He was Oswald Darlington, Earl of Darlington—Prince Tobias's right-hand man, one of the empire's top three magnates, and the true power broker of the capital.
"What will you do?"
"Hm. Do we really need to go that far...?"
Prince Tobias furrowed his brow slightly.
"We need firm internal control. And if the rumors are true that Duke Soria sent an envoy, the letter's recipient is obvious, isn't it?"
Duke Soria.
His brother, Prince Henrik.
"Hmm..."
Unlike his brother's rugged manliness, Prince Tobias had a calm, gentle face. He stroked his well-groomed beard thoughtfully.
Meeting the faint wrinkles around the prince's eyes, Earl Darlington spoke in a low but firm voice.
"If we can't fully secure Sir Ilaine, the capital defense commander, as Your Highness's man, it could spell trouble when you ascend the throne."
"Come now! Sir Ilaine is a knight sworn to the empire and His Majesty. Should the day come when I replace you, his loyalty will naturally turn to me. No doubt about it."
Prince Tobias's eyes narrowed slightly.
But it wasn't a genuine rebuke.
Darlington knew this, yet bowed his head solemnly out of respect.
"My apologies. Please forgive my overflowing loyalty to Your Highness."
"Hmph! No need for apologies. Anyway, you seem convinced Prince Henrik's letter is going to Sir Ilaine... I don't doubt your insight, but even if it does, there's no guarantee of the trouble you fear."
Phrased diplomatically, it boiled down to: Henrik's letter likely concerns the throne, but would the defense commander really side with him?
Darlington lifted his head cautiously.
"Your Highness is right. However, Sir Ilaine and Duke Soria campaigned together. If the duke harbors ambitions for the throne and reveals them in the letter to Sir Ilaine... wouldn't it be obvious he'd support him?"
"Hmm!"
Despite the tactful wording, the certainty hit home. Prince Tobias's expression visibly hardened.
The music drowned out their low voices, but the nobles noticed the change and exchanged glances.
Tak tak.
Frowning, Prince Tobias drummed his fingers on the armrest, then turned his head slightly.
His gaze met Darlington's steady, resolute eyes looking up at him.
He knew exactly what the earl wanted.
Yet Prince Tobias couldn't grant it easily.
Darlington sought unprecedented privileges, unheard of since the empire's founding.
'Not yet. I can't approve until I have proof. Duke Soria... Henrik wouldn't...'
As he resolved himself and parted his lips—
Tak tak!
In the presence of such august company, the servant didn't dare run but hurried over almost at a jog, approaching on his knees to deliver a sealed note to Tobias and Darlington.
Utterly improper, yet the prince didn't reprimand him. Instead, he wondered what urgent news warranted this.
"Hmm..."
Darlington's eyes narrowed as he scanned the note.
The other nobles watched him with curiosity and tension.
Finally, he looked up.
Leaning close to Prince Tobias, he whispered.
"An envoy carrying Duke Soria's letter left Elberra seven days ago. Via waterway, not land."
Soon everyone here would know, but his voice dropped even lower, and the prince's face grew sterner.
Waterway, not land, narrowed the destination to one place.
Here—the imperial capital, Alteria.
It also meant Darlington's fears were likely coming true.
"And..."
Darlington's voice continued into the prince's ear as he pondered.
"The envoy from Duke Soria is a man named Blake. Unknown family name suggests he might be a knight they picked up..."
Darlington trailed off involuntarily.
Prince Tobias, who had maintained a dignified posture, suddenly gripped the armrest and whipped around to face him.
"Your Highness, what's wrong?"
Startled, Darlington asked. Tobias replied in a trembling voice.
"You just said... Blake?"
"Yes, Your Highness. Do you know the name...?"
A name the prince knew but he didn't.
Darlington's mind raced faster than ever, but he merely looked concerned.
The prince's sudden shift was undoubtedly due to that name.
But as Tobias shuddered, clutching the armrest with a grave expression lost in thought, he slowly shook his head.
"No, it's nothing. As for earlier—let's go with your recommendation."
"Pardon?"
Another unexpected turn; Darlington blinked in surprise.
"I'll lift the manpower cap on the Blue Hawk Knights and appoint them as my personal guard. I'll take full responsibility and push it through..."
"...!"
Darlington's eyes widened in shock.
(To be continued in the next installment)