Chapter 13
Chapter 13
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: Honor or Survival
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“I heard there was some trouble last night.”
Ariel spoke to Lander, who was gazing down at his teacup.
“It was just a minor misunderstanding. Thank you for your concern.”
“If you need any help from me, just say the word. I’d like to apologize for being rude to someone who served my father, even if only briefly.”
She lifted her teacup and offered him some tea.
“From what I’ve heard, you’re traveling alone…”
“Yes. After leaving the military, I didn’t have anything particular to do, so I’ve been wandering around here and there.”
“What do you think of it after seeing the world?”
“It really drives home how vast the Empire is. There are so many places I haven’t been to.”
“It is vast. It’s a wonder the feudal lords stay quiet. Well, they’re only quiet on the surface.”
Land was a medium that amplified greed. Even those without such intentions became landowners, and once they had people under their command, they dreamed of even larger territories.
She feared the quiet yet fierce territorial wars unfolding beneath the unified Empire. She lacked both the ability to win wars and even the confidence to hold onto what she had.
Her father’s absence had brought immense chaos. Clear allies and enemies had become ambiguous in an instant.
In the political arena, where battles were fought with tongues, she was powerless. She felt bone-deep just how thick her father’s shadow had been.
Those who had shown goodwill now had inscrutable intentions, and the moment they became inscrutable, she was isolated. The name ‘Tian,’ which bore the weight of one pillar of the Empire, was growing ever more precarious.
She couldn’t just sit back and take it. To solidify alliances, she took action herself.
Publicly announced as a ‘lavish trip,’ she spent money wherever she went. The image of a spoiled young lady was helpful in many ways.
Dodging the eyes of upstart nobles eager to devour Tian, she met with people. She let them know that Tian would forever be their friend.
The responses were lukewarm. The war was over, and the fierce general who had led the 2nd Legion had died suddenly—there was no need to maintain ties with such a house anymore.
It was the reaction she had expected. The Empire was a colossal living organism. A monster that grew by devouring and being devoured. A house clearly in decline was prey, not a friend.
She was barely holding on thanks to her father’s old friends. Houses that had maintained close bonds since the time the imperial family was in turmoil.
The native nobles, whom upstarts coveted and longed to swallow, were lending their strength.
But even this relationship wouldn’t last long.
Nothing was more important than a house’s rise or fall. The moment shallow friendships frayed, the native nobles would absorb Tian at a speed incomparable to the upstarts.
It was dizzying. She wanted countermeasures, but none were in sight.
From her Schola days until graduation, she had never fallen out of the top ranks.
Everything had seemed easy, and the world’s structure simple. She had even been confident that entering the military or politics would rewrite Tian’s history.
But the reality that hit her was beyond her control. She was learning with her whole body that typhoons weren’t something to block with an umbrella—they were something to evade.
No, even a typhoon could be avoided. This was an inescapable, massive wave coalesced from human desire. No matter how she twisted, it would veer precisely toward her.
Was that why?
The moment she heard Lander had served her father, even briefly, a strange anticipation welled up.
Her father had always known the answers. She even thought this chance encounter might yield some solution.
Of course, she gathered her emotions and realized it was a vain delusion the moment she returned to her lodgings. All she could gain from Lander was a brief reminiscence.
Still, it was far better than the sycophantic flattery that made her ears rot. She set down her teacup and opened her mouth.
“What was Andun like?”
“The first thing that comes to mind is the snow. It was the harshest winter I’d ever seen.”
“Father often mentioned it on snowy days. He said this much snow was like dust compared to what he’d seen in Andun.”
“You’d wake up to it piled up to your waist. In winter, we weren’t fighting enemies—we were at war with the snow. Especially in Masa, where all troops were deployed.”
“Horses must be weak to the cold. It must have been tough.”
“Infantry had no firewood to spare, but horses needed it. We’d fetch wet wood, dry it, and burn even half-dry stuff to protect the horses. It was a first for me. Both enemy and ally lit fires without caring if their positions were revealed. Otherwise, we’d have frozen to death before fighting.”
“I’ve heard Andun’s winters are quite long.”
Lander looked up at the ceiling, as if recalling those days.
“I remember snow starting from October. When the first snow hit the battlefield, everyone tensed up. Fighting in snowfields is dangerous. Plenty of soldiers died when their footing gave way.”
“That’s different from what I learned at Schola. I heard they all died fighting bravely, not a word about slipping to their deaths.”
“That’s how Empire soldiers are supposed to die. Whether caught deserting and beheaded, or freezing at dawn, it was all recorded as dying bravely in battle.”
“That’s probably how it really was.”
She popped a cookie into her mouth, chewed it thoroughly, and then spoke.
“What kind of person was Father on the battlefield?”
“The epitome of a soldier.”
“Good sense or bad?”
“It’s hard to divide it that way. As I said yesterday, I was just a lowly foot soldier, and I served the Legion Commander only briefly.”
“What was your impression of Father during that short time?”
“A very human… soldier. He cared for his troops. Once, liquor was distributed. Warm liquor that saved the frostbitten hands and feet of soldiers. In the midst of supply shortages, it was the Legion Commander who procured it for them. Out of his own pocket.”
“He was strict, but full of affection too.”
She said with a smile.
When she entered Schola, he had bellowed at the boys not to mess with her, but the chief chamberlain said he’d seen him secretly crying in his office the next day.
Gentle yet upright—the person she most wanted to emulate.
If Father were alive, the Tian house would never be in peril. The thought made her despise her own incompetence with a shiver.
“What would Father have done?”
She blurted it out unconsciously, then gave a wry smile. Her fragility was poking through. Complaining to a total stranger, no less.
“Is something the matter?”
Lander asked in return. She shook her head, saying it was nothing, then spoke after a pause.
“Want to hear a boring story?”
She explained her situation. Perhaps because he was someone utterly unconnected to the seats of power, she could confide without suspicion.
It wasn’t some great secret anyway. Even a child knew Tian’s power in politics was crumbling.
It wouldn’t cause trouble if common citizens knew. Information was only valuable to the powerful.
“What is it you desire, miss?”
“Me? To protect Tian. My castle, my house, my lands and people. That’s the duty and right of anyone born a Tian.”
“Then what needs to be done is simple.”
His word ‘simple’ made her laugh. Even university graduates were fledglings in political fights.
Even the Empire’s prodigies were at a loss with politics—no way ‘simple’ could sum it up.
“Really? What’s this simple thing I need to do?”
“Narrow the radius.”
“Narrow the radius?”
“You can’t hold what two hands can’t grasp—let it go. Problems usually stem from not letting go. Select what you can protect with your abilities and focus there.”
She ended up laughing. It was textbook advice. Even a child knew it.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to mock you. It was just so obvious said so seriously that I couldn’t help it.”
“Did you know it already?”
“Who doesn’t? Desire feeds on ability. Desire without ability is mere vanity and greed. It’s inscribed at Schola’s main gate. Even citizens know the famous saying.”
“Then the problem is solved.”
She shook her head.
“Not at all. Ideals and reality differ. I’m not悩ing over things I can let go of. My worry is protecting what I can’t let go of.”
“And those things you can’t let go of are…?”
Lander said, gently turning the handle of his teacup. She paused before answering, suddenly feeling the conversation atmosphere incredibly warm.
Like chatting with Father in the study—cozy, with perfect focus.
She already knew no clear answer would come. The end would be futile. Yet she invested the time. The conversation’s charm, the nostalgic feeling, was too good.
“The house’s prestige. The lands I must lead and the people living there. Things I can’t abandon. And they’re all tightly interlinked.”
“Name, people, wealth. Important things. But there must be priorities.”
“Miss one, and the rest collapse together. To a free citizen’s eyes, it seems simple, but complex political elements lurk within. That’s why I can’t let go. The moment I do, Tian’s name hits the dirt.”
“Even if it hits the dirt, it won’t be the end.”
“It’ll be just before the end. A weakened house becomes an old beast with claws and fangs pulled. The moment it’s seen as toothless, the hide gets stripped.”
“Then act before it’s stripped. Old or not, claws and fangs remain. But with an oversized body, food is insufficient. So trim it down. Cede lands, give people, sell the name to create means of survival—that’s the priority.”
A free citizen’s thinking, she thought. Survive first. Scheme for later.
Possible for an individual, but she led a massive collective. Collectives ended when they crumbled.
“The Holy City isn’t that lenient. Hunkering down marks the house’s limit. I’d become the worst head to drag a proud name into the dirt.”
“If that’s how you see it, there’s no other way.”
“If there were, I wouldn’t be悩ing like this.”
She checked the clock. It meant nothing—it had been a pleasant talk.
“I enjoyed our conversation today.”
“I’m glad.”
Lander stood, lowering his eyes as he spoke.
“The Legion Commander once said something like this. ‘I choose a squalid life over an honorable death.’ Tian’s honor and the name Tian are surely different things.”
With that, Lander bowed and left the room. She rolled the words ‘honor’ and ‘name’ on her tongue.
“Can a halved Tian… still be Tian?”
She recalled the prestige Father had built for the house. She’d always thought it better to end cleanly than limp on disgracefully without it.
An honorable death.
That was Schola’s, the Empire’s, teaching.
“Honorable death, squalid life. Father, what should I do?”
Covering her eyes with both hands, she whispered. She ached sorely for the father who had always taught clear answers.