Chapter 403: It’s a Proclamation Ceremony… Right? (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 403: It’s a Proclamation Ceremony… Right? (2)
“Is that... truly the case?”
Queen Torimabia of Laxas spoke with a trembling voice.
In response to her question, Duke Colban nodded with a grave expression.
“According to the information we’ve gathered, the giant who saved Calliban knelt before the Marquis and addressed him with the utmost respect.”
“...My goodness.”
Torimabia let out a gasp of shock, her mind flashing back to the Divine Blood she had seen from a great distance not long ago.
That bizarre, insect-like entity—as massive as a kingdom—was something the forces of Laxas could never have hoped to stop. Even with the help of the pirates allied with Laxas, specifically Ladan, whose power transcended human limits, the situation had seemed hopeless.
‘...’
The memory of the hope and despair she felt then came rushing back.
At the time, the majesty Ladan displayed was nothing short of awe-inspiring. The blue rifts tearing across the sky and the torrent of weapons pouring from them had utterly overwhelmed her.
Yet, despite Ladan’s full-scale assault, the Divine Blood remained unscathed.
She had felt utter despair. If even that superhuman onslaught couldn't leave a scratch, she believed there was no hope for Laxas.
But in that moment...
She saw it.
Something colossal emerging from the depths of the sea.
With a single tentacle-like limb that looked capable of crushing all of Laxas, it had dragged the floating insect down into the abyss.
And that was the end of it.
The massive Divine Blood she feared would erase Laxas without a trace had been vanished by another Divine Blood.
‘And the one who stands above such a being is... Marquis Palatio?’
Torimabia’s mouth hung open, her royal dignity forgotten in the face of this shocking revelation. However, she didn't doubt for a second that it was true.
After all, this was Marquis Palatio they were talking about.
Torimabia knew of him. She knew of the path he had walked until now.
His feats were so superhuman that it was hard to believe he was a mere mortal. The way he handled every crisis as if he had foreseen it...
In fact, it felt more unnatural to think of Marquis Palatio as an ordinary human.
But if one assumed that Marquis Palatio was actually a Divine Blood hiding his true identity—
‘Everything falls into place...!’
Realizing that everything now possessed a plausible logic, Torimabia suddenly recalled a piece of information she had heard before.
“Duke.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“The last time, when that giant Divine Blood appeared in Calliban... you mentioned rumors that it came because Marquis Palatio sent it, didn't you?”
“Yes. It was information the information guilds were charging a high price for. Though I imagine most nations have collected it by now...”
“...It seems the claim that Marquis Palatio can command the Divine Blood was true after all.”
“It appears so.”
Listening to the Duke’s answer, Torimabia turned her gaze.
There stood the statue Marquis Palatio had sent as a gift.
It was... a bit overwhelming to look at.
Even with Ladan’s cooperation, she had agonized over what to do with it. It was a difficult statue in many ways.
However, as secret information began to spread, it had become a statue that everyone now desperately coveted.
“...Duke.”
“Yes.”
“...When did you say Marquis Palatio’s proclamation ceremony was?”
“There is about a month left.”
“...A month, then.”
Torimabia furrowed her brow in deep thought.
“...The Marquis does not yet have a partner, correct?”
“That is correct.”
“No partner, I see...”
As if she had made a firm decision, she spoke.
“That is good...”
“Are you referring to... the Princess?”
“A king who reigns over the heavens needs someone to look after the ground beneath his feet—someone he might otherwise overlook.”
She nodded firmly.
* * *
A little more time passed, and as Alon’s group was nearing the Marquisate...
“As I thought, it’s not working.”
“Is that so?”
“What’s the problem...?”
Alon and Penia were in the middle of a discussion about magic.
“Hmm, this is a bit tricky. It’s not something that can be produced through a standard formula.”
“True. Or is it simply impossible?”
“I suppose that’s a possibility,” Penia replied after a moment of thought. “After all, your magic requires a medium of some sort.”
“I guess so...”
What they had been obsessing over for the past few months was research regarding that 'medium.'
By converting the chanting of Phrases into magic, they had managed to change the 'medium' to allow for faster casting.
However, that was merely an intermediate step. The goal of this research was something beyond that.
To be able to recite the Phrases without speaking. In other words, to chant through thought alone.
Unfortunately, despite a month of effort, progress was slow.
“Hmm—should I give up and try a different angle?”
“In my opinion, it would be better to set up another stepping stone first. We don't even know if it's possible yet, so continuing to waste time like this isn't ideal.”
“You’re right.”
As Alon sighed and agreed, Evan spoke up.
“Marquis.”
“What is it? Are we almost there?”
“No, well, not quite yet. But soon.”
“I see. Then why?”
“I was listening to the rumors lately, and something occurred to me.”
“...And that is?”
“Oh, it’s nothing that important, really.”
Evan hummed in thought before continuing.
“I was just wondering how the United Kingdoms haven't been swallowed by the Empire yet.”
“...Isn't it because they formed an alliance specifically to prevent that?”
“Well, yeah—but honestly, I don't see how the United Kingdoms can even compare to the Empire.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Just think about it. The United Kingdoms have been helpless since the Divine Blood appeared, but the Empire is holding its own quite well, isn't it?”
“The United Kingdoms are holding on too, aren't they?”
“...To me, it looks like they only survived because of you, Marquis.”
Alon pondered this for a moment. From a certain perspective, it could certainly look that way.
“Besides, the Empire has far more Divine Blood entities than we do. Seeing that, it’s a bit strange that the mighty Empire has left the United Kingdoms alone all this time.”
As Alon fell into thought, Penia, who had been quietly listening, spoke up.
“Sigh... Are you really asking that?”
“What? I can be curious.”
“Even though the answer is obvious if you just think about it for a second?”
“...Is it?”
Penia seriously considered where to begin before launching into an explanation.
“There are many reasons why the Empire leaves the United Kingdoms alone. Both positive and negative.”
“For example?”
“Look. Suppose the Empire decides to attack the United Kingdoms. Who would give the order?”
“The Emperor?”
“No, the Emperor wouldn't give such an order.”
“Why not?”
“From the Emperor’s perspective, he wants the United Kingdoms to be maintained.”
“...Huh? Why?”
As Evan asked in confusion, Alon answered slowly.
“...Because he needs an external enemy?”
“Exactly.”
Penia continued, as if confirming the correct answer.
“To the Emperor, the United Kingdoms are a very useful 'justification.' They’re a convenient excuse to use when controlling the citizens or the nobles. You know those small frontier nations around the Empire?”
“Ah, I’ve heard of them.”
“The Empire doesn't leave them alone for no reason. They aren't a threat, but they’re easy for the Emperor to exploit.”
Penia added, “That’s why he doesn't bother touching the kingdoms,” before continuing her explanation.
“So, in the end, the only people who want to strike the United Kingdoms are those who need military achievements. Like a Prince or a Princess.”
“...To become the next Emperor?”
“Yes. But even for a Prince or Princess, the United Kingdoms are a difficult target. Their available troops would be limited, and the probability of failure is high. Unless they could wipe out one or two kingdoms completely.”
“Hmm.”
“And if they happen to fail, they’d be immediately removed from the line of succession.”
“But you said there are other frontier nations in the Empire?”
“Conquering a frontier nation that can be dealt with at any time wouldn't count for much as a military achievement. They wouldn't get any praise from the Emperor for that.”
“Ah...”
Evan nodded at Penia’s words. Alon, too, finally understood.
‘So that’s why the Empire only pushed in when one or two kingdoms were on the verge of collapse.’
While Alon organized his thoughts by recalling the game, Penia’s voice continued.
“And—though it’s mostly a formality now—it’s also likely because of a promise.”
“A promise?”
“Yes. I’ve heard that hundreds of years ago, the Empire and the United Kingdoms signed something called the ‘Contract of the Seeker.’”
“...What’s that?”
“I don't know the details. I just saw it in an old book I read out of curiosity once.”
“The Contract of the Seeker...?”
Alon muttered the words, thinking to himself. For some reason, they sounded familiar.
After pondering for a moment...
‘I’m sure there was a setting like that.’
Alon recalled seeing those words in the game.
‘...Right. I remember when the Empire would invade and trigger a Bad Ending, the text would say the world was ruined because the Empire broke the Contract of the Seeker.’
Of course, that didn't mean Alon was particularly interested in the topic. The only reason he remembered it was because he had seen that Bad Ending so many times.
As Alon was finishing that thought...
“Ah, we’re almost there...”
Evan, who had been focused on the conversation until a moment ago, spoke up.
“...Wait...?”
He couldn't finish his sentence.
“...?”
Alon was puzzled.
“What’s wrong?”
At Evan’s strange reaction, Penia tilted her head and looked out the carriage window.
Soon.
“...Eh?”
She let out a dazed exclamation, just like Evan.
Alon, wondering if something was wrong, leaned his head out of the carriage as well.
“?”
He couldn't see anything unusual.
The sky was still blue.
Lowering his gaze, he saw his own statue standing atop the wall in the pose of a Northern Chief—a sight that was still too embarrassing to look at with a sober mind.
Looking further down, he saw people outside the seemingly sturdy walls.
A massive number of people.
“Hmm...?”
And then, he saw the shantytown.
Starting from the city walls, a sea of makeshift shacks covered the entire hillside where green meadows should have been.
“...Hooo...”
Alon pulled his head back into the carriage.
“Evan.”
“Yes, Marquis.”
“...What... is that?”
That was all Alon could manage to say.
To that.
“Uh...”
Evan, who was staring blankly at the staggering number of temporary houses, replied.
“...Citizens...?”
Only then did Silli’s words, which Evan had relayed a while ago, flash through Alon’s mind. Her boastful promise that he wouldn't have to worry about believers or citizens at all.
‘I mean... I’m certainly not worried anymore...’
Not worried, but...
‘Isn't this... a bit much?’
Just what on earth did you do, Silli-Silli...?