Chapter 144: Toward the Colony (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 144: Toward the Colony (1)
Luxible was a small grand duchy bordering the Mysterious Jungle Ronobelli, consisting of only a few combined territories.
Though it was called a grand duchy, its power was pathetically weak compared to the other nations within the United Kingdoms.
And that wasn't all.
In fact, most of the funds required to operate the Luxible Grand Duchy came from a single place: Caslot, located on the border of the Mysterious Jungle Ronobelli.
Of course, the taxes collected from that area were substantial, but they weren't nearly enough to fulfill the great cause of Famillono, the seventh king of Luxible.
Famillono harbored ambitions even greater than those of his father, the sixth king.
He intended to grow his grand duchy into something so grand and vast that it could truly be called a nation, just like any other country.
In "theory," it was entirely possible.
As a member of the United Kingdoms, territorial expansion through war or provincial disputes was strictly forbidden, but purchasing territory with money was a different story.
And if he truly needed more land, he could always head south.
To the south lay the lands of the demi-humans, which did not fall under the jurisdiction of the United Kingdoms.
But unfortunately... in reality, it was closer to an unattainable dream.
First of all, purchasing territory required an astronomical amount of money.
It was a sum so vast that the national treasury would be bled dry, potentially leading to the dissolution of the grand duchy itself.
The other option was to seize territory by waging war against the demi-humans, but unfortunately, they were not so easily defeated by the meager forces of a grand duchy.
In the first place, the reason the United Kingdoms tolerated the demi-human territories—unlike the barbarians who invaded the inland—was precisely because of their strength.
But above all, the reason the seventh king’s great cause remained nothing more than a dream was corruption.
Yes. Corruption.
Regrettably, even the few small territories of the Luxible Grand Duchy were deeply depraved.
To what extent?
A simple example was that the private armies of the Grand Dukes were far larger than the soldiers under the King’s direct command.
That was why, from the moment he was crowned as a puppet king, he agonized over it.
How could he break through this hopeless situation?
As he brooded over his plight, an opportunity finally presented itself.
A deal with a devil.
No, actually, "devil" wasn't the right word.
The one who made the proposal was a human.
However, the reason he thought of it as "shaking hands with a devil" was because the offer was simply too sweet.
It was a deal where he stood to lose practically nothing.
If he stayed as he was, he was destined to be forced into a political marriage, produce an heir, and then be poisoned once his time was up—just like his father.
The typical life of a puppet king.
He decided to take the chance, thinking he had nothing to lose even if he was being deceived.
He didn't harbor high expectations.
It was essentially a final act of desperation.
But today.
Thud—!
Famillono received the results.
“…….”
He stared down blankly at the floor.
There lay the heads of the old men—no, to Famillono, they were pigs he wouldn't mind chewing to death.
The heads of Grand Duke Richterton and Grand Duke Bofur.
Famillono looked up.
There stood a girl.
Clad in white leather and gripping a spear dripping with blood—
“……Is this for real?”
“Can’t you just check for yourself? They’re right in front of you,” Swift Sirkal replied, casually nudging the two heads with her spear.
Famillono swallowed hard.
“……I don’t think that will be necessary.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. I couldn't forget the faces of those bastards even if I tried. They’ve haunted my dreams long enough.”
“That’s good to hear. Oh, and just in case you were wondering, I’ve taken care of all their soldiers too, so don’t worry.”
“……Is that true?”
“I have no reason to lie.”
“I see.”
The girl’s voice was devoid of emotion.
Famillono let out a heavy sigh and stared intently at the rolling heads.
“Right. Since I’ve gotten what I wanted, I must pay the price. There were two conditions, weren't there? Tell me what you want.”
As he spoke, Famillono’s expression grew tense.
When the girl had first made the proposal, he hadn't worried much about the price.
He hadn't truly believed she could actually kill the two Grand Dukes.
But now, it was reality.
Because of that, he steeled his resolve to pay whatever price was demanded, but...
“I want you to hand over a place for my tribe to live.”
“……Are you asking for territory?”
“It doesn't have to be anything grand. About half of the land belonging to these pigs will do.”
“……I accept.”
The first request wasn't as outrageous as he had expected.
Famillono was slightly bewildered, but only for a moment.
“The second proposal is the most important one.”
“……Speak.”
He tensed up again at her following words.
“Make our god the state religion.”
“……A god?”
“Yes. Establish the god we believe in as the national religion and erect statues of him throughout the territory. Those are my two requirements.”
The seventh king replied.
“That is not difficult.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
Of course, he had to be mindful of the Holy Kingdom Rosario, but hadn't Rosario washed its hands of Luxible a long time ago anyway?
It meant there would be no problem even if he didn't establish Sironia as the state religion right now.
Famillono nodded, and at that, the girl—Swift Sirkal—gestured lightly toward the shadows.
Soon, another girl, Jenira, emerged from the darkness and handed Famillono a statue.
“……This is.”
“It is a statue of the god we serve.”
The statue depicted a man whose face was shrouded in shadow.
He wore an ink-black coat fluttering in the wind, clutching a bolt of lightning in one hand.
“……What is the name of this god?”
Famillono asked as he looked at the statue.
“He is the only god of our Thunder Snake tribe, and our savior—”
Jenira smiled, as if she had been waiting for the question.
“He is Lord Kalanon, the Lightning Receiver.”
She proclaimed the name.
A faint hint of fanaticism flickered in her eyes.
* * *
Penia Kraysinne had been very happy lately.
……Well, there were moments when she wasn't, but for the most part, she was.
After going to the Marquis’s estate to confess her secrets out of fear for her life, she had unexpectedly received a wonderful proposal.
In exchange for assisting Marquis Palatio with his magical research, she was given the excellent condition of being allowed to learn magic from Heinkel without having to hide their relationship.
For her, it was a joyous situation with nothing to lose.
Of course, she had to continue assisting with the Marquis’s seemingly endless magical research, but that wasn't a big problem.
The point was that she could now learn magic from Heinkel without any trouble.
That was very, very, very, very, very, very, very important.
Furthermore, while the presence behind the Marquis was a bit terrifying, supporting his magical research was quite interesting.
His magic was of a kind she had never seen before.
Alon’s magic, which didn't even belong to the standard Tiers, naturally piqued the curiosity of a magic-obsessed person like Penia.
For a while, she had quite a bit of fun exploring the magic.
To the point where she could even subtly meet the gaze of the eyes behind the Marquis.
Of course, that period of exploration didn't last very long.
Unfortunately, the "Hand Seal" that Marquis Palatio had asked for help with could only be used by him.
Why had Marquis Palatio, who possessed higher magical knowledge than her, asked for her help in the first place?
She was puzzled for a moment, but soon shook it off.
She had decided not to harbor any more questions than necessary regarding the Marquis.
What mattered to her was Heinkel’s magic, and satisfying her curiosity while helping the Marquis was enough.
Anyway, she had achieved her goal, and her life lately had been quite satisfying.
……Yes, until a few days ago, when Marquis Palatio left to take care of some business.
“Aaaaaaaagh!!!!!!”
“Hiek—”
Penia screamed.
It was a blood-curdling shriek that made Pellin, who had been timidly flipping through a journal beside her, reflexively hold his breath.
But she seemed oblivious to her surroundings, her bloodshot eyes fixed solely on the journal.
It was the journal where Alon had described the Hand Seals he discovered during this research, along with the resulting mana array structures and how the molecular structures changed.
“This... how on earth—”
Penia’s hands trembled as she gripped the thick stack of papers.
“How am I supposed to finish all of this?!”
She let out another shriek and recalled the conversation she’d had with Alon a few days ago.
‘Vice Tower Master, I’m leaving this to you.’
‘Uh…… exactly what part?’
‘Based on the research so far, we’ve learned that when the molecular structures of mana combine, they change into new forms, right?’
‘Yes, yes, that’s... right?’
‘I’d like you to organize them simply while I’m away.’
‘……All of this?’
‘Yes. It’s not that much, is it?’
‘No, I mean—’
‘Do you not want to?’
It hadn't been a conversation.
It was like a devil wearing the mask of a kind professor…… yes, casually exploiting a poor student—
Penia squeezed her eyes shut and let out a groan.
Only now did she realize why he had asked for her help.
‘Was it because of this……!!’
Since the laws of molecular structure had already been somewhat established, all that remained was the task of finding the various permutations of how those structures could be fitted together.
In other words, this was no longer research; it was manual labor.
And grueling labor at that.
Because of that.
“Marquis Palatio, you son of a—”
Bitch!!!!
She swallowed the rest of the sentence silently.
“Huaaaaaagh—”
She let out a strange breath and slammed her head onto the desk.
Penia lay there, slumped over.
Her shoulders shook for a moment as if she had finally lost her mind.
“Somehow—I’ll get it done.”
Soon, with bloodshot eyes.
“No matter what, I will……!! I will definitely learn magic from Lord Heinkel……!”
She gritted her teeth and released her mana.
“I’ll do it, I’ll do it, I can do it!!!!”
Seeing his sister-figure frantically equipping more than five pens like weapons and beginning to scribble on the paper,
“…….”
Pellin quietly curled into a ball.
* * *
At that same time.
‘I wonder if she’s doing well?’
Alon thought of Penia while eating a sweet potato.
‘Well, organizing things shouldn't be that difficult.’
The task of organizing the molecular structures he had left to the Vice Tower Master.
‘Once the primary arrays are organized, it’ll be faster to just implement and link them directly.’
He took a bite of his sweet potato, completely unaware that Penia was organizing not just the primary, but the secondary and even tertiary arrays.
Just then.
“Marquis.”
“What is it?”
“I’ve heard some rather strange and interesting news.”
“Strange and interesting news?”
Evan brought up a new topic.
“Yes. I heard that Line is now the only High Councilor left.”
“Why?”
“Well, the reason is unknown, but apparently, every time someone becomes a High Councilor, some unfortunate accident occurs and they all end up dead. Thanks to that, Line is currently serving consecutive terms as the sole High Councilor.”
“……That is indeed strange.”
“Right? I thought so too.”
A brief silence followed.
“……It couldn't be, right?”
Alon’s murmur broke the silence.
Evan pondered the meaning of those words for a moment and then laughed.
“Oh, come on—that would be way too obvious, wouldn't it?”
“……Yeah, I suppose so.”
After enduring a week of travel with such conversations, they arrived in Lartania, where Alon met Line.
“You’ve arrived, Godfather?”
“It’s been a while.”
“Please, come inside first. It’s starting to get hot out here.”
The two of them entered the office together.
“Oh, Godfather. You said your birthday was September 20th, right?”
As soon as the door closed, Line asked out of the blue with a calm expression.
“……It is. Why do you ask?”
“Ah, I’m preparing a ‘gift.’”
“A gift?”
A faint smile played on her lips.
“Yes. Well—I hope you like it.”
……She looked toward the Lord’s Castle of Lartania.