Chapter 108
Chapter 108
"Gather every ounce of your strength! This is total war!"
The moment Prince Romain stepped out of the council chamber, his sharp command froze the expressions of all the nobles following him.
It was impossible not to be tense—the very thing they had feared had come to pass.
And among them, Roger Vifros' face stiffened the most.
'Damn it all!'
It would be a lie to say he hadn't anticipated this situation at all.
Still, he had held onto the faint hope that any conflict would be resolved through proxy battles or duels at worst. But the conclusion was, as expected, full-scale war.
'No, let's not delude ourselves. Whether it's duels or anything else, as long as the princes are alive, neither side will concede. Neither would I. War was inevitable.'
The problem was that it had erupted far more abruptly than anticipated, leaving no time to stabilize his territory.
'MacLaine. Those lucky bastards...'
Yet, he couldn't openly defy the Second Prince here.
Or rather, he couldn't defy Duke Jordan Walterheim, whose sharp gaze swept over the assembly from behind the prince.
Suppressing his rising fury and tangled emotions, Roger Vifros waited for the Second Prince's lengthy speech to conclude.
Only after the prince returned to his palace and the nobles dispersed did he seek out Duke Jordan Walterheim privately.
"What do you want to say?"
"Forgive me for disturbing your rest, Your Grace. But there's something I must convey."
"Get to the point."
The gray-haired giant's tone was icy.
But Roger knew it wasn't out of any personal displeasure—the man's temperament was naturally frigid, despite his moniker, "Blazing Sword," which referred to his martial prowess.
'Which means he's calculating, at least.'
Swallowing hard, Roger Vifros spoke his prepared words.
"As you're aware, my territory was already at war before this crisis. A certain insolent family, driven by greed, unlawfully seized one of my fortresses—"
"I know. And?"
"...I must mobilize troops in accordance with His Highness's orders, but doing so would mean losing the chance to punish those insolent wretches. Grant me just a little more time."
"Time? Hmm. When full-scale war with the First Prince's faction could break out at any moment, you ask for time to settle internal affairs?"
A wrong answer here would spell disaster.
Meeting those indifferent black eyes, Roger replied swiftly.
"It won't take long. Just ten days—ten days is all I ask—"
"Inefficient."
"...Pardon?"
"The most efficient solution is to bring those 'insolent wretches'—MacLaine—into our faction. There's no need for you to exhaust yourselves in a war of attrition when their forces could bolster our strength intact."
"Your Grace, but—"
"I even sent Luther to negotiate, but someone went out of their way to poison the well. Advertising far and wide that the food was inedible, no less."
"Th-that was—!"
The duke's emotionless black eyes swept over Roger's frozen form, chilling him to the bone.
"It's fine to secure your own interests—in moderation. But harming the faction in the process is unacceptable. What should I do with you, Roger?"
Roger Vifros, pale-faced, immediately dropped to his knees.
"F-forgive me, Your Grace! I was blinded by greed and acted recklessly!"
"You're quick-witted, Roger. But sometimes, your ambition clouds that wit."
"..."
Duke Jordan Walterheim gazed down at him with cold eyes and continued.
"The king's death was unexpected for all, but given the ensuing atmosphere, even you should've realized why Juan and I sought to recruit those insignificant nobles. Were they truly such a thorn in your side?"
"...I have no excuse."
"You're a vital asset to our faction—far more valuable than those petty nobles. But even petty nobles have their uses. Especially now, when the balance between 'enemies' and us feels precarious."
"..."
Roger kept his head bowed, hiding his expression.
Any mismanaged reaction could be irreversible.
"Set aside your greed for now. Fortunately, those wretches haven't joined the enemy, so leaving them be for the time being is fine. After we win this war, I'll personally deliver them to you, nicely packaged. Understood?"
"My deepest apologies."
"Good. That's all. Ah, I'll leave a light warning behind. If they have any sense, they won't dare provoke you further."
"Thank... you, Your Grace."
"Don't worry. Just focus on summoning your elite troops. You should be looking at a far greater future than those insignificant fools."
"Yes."
Far from achieving his goal, Roger hadn't even recouped his losses—only humiliating himself in the process.
Yet, he couldn't help but sigh in relief.
Had this not been a time when every ounce of military strength mattered, the duke would never have let him off so easily.
But why?
At this moment, the image of that insolent bastard—smirking alone in the council chamber—flashed through his mind.
Though he understood intellectually that he had to endure for the future, Roger Vifros struggled to suppress the fury boiling within him.
"Good heavens. What in the world...?"
"As expected, the Golem Tower is truly remarkable."
Patrick could only gape in astonishment, at a loss for words, while Logan grinned brightly and even whistled.
It was only natural.
Even accounting for the two-week round trip to the capital and the ten days spent there, their absence from Tomodo Castle had lasted less than a month.
Yet, upon their return, Logan and Patrick were greeted by towering walls—five meters taller and far more imposing than before—encircling the castle.
—It's the lord and the Grand Prince!
—Open the gates!
Clank-clank-clank!
Amidst the clamor of turning chains, the massive gates descended like a drawbridge over the now deeper and sturdier moat.
Thud.
"Perfect... indeed."
"Yes. It exceeds expectations."
The father and son entered the castle with flushed faces.
The troops, no longer as haggard as when they'd left, welcomed them with confident smiles.
"We've fortified the castle to withstand even Vifros's assaults. Does it meet your approval?"
"Of course, Heinkel. Well done."
"The credit goes more to the mages of the Golem Tower. Ah, though they did consume quite a bit of magic ore..."
"That's to be expected. Everyone worked hard."
"You might be surprised, though..."
Heinkel muttered as he watched the delighted MacLaines.
After the lord's departure, Clayton had driven his disciples relentlessly, as though he were a changed man.
And in the process, an astronomical amount of magic ore had been consumed.
Given that the cost likely far exceeded the lord's estimates, Heinkel couldn't simply laugh it off.
His prediction proved accurate.
Upon hearing the expenses, both father and son's faces twitched violently.
But even that was swiftly pushed aside due to an urgent magical communication received at Tomodo Castle.
"The Walterheim Ducal House?!"
"Why them?"
"I don't know. But a retainer claiming to represent them demands to speak with the lord..."
The two had no choice but to rush to the communication chamber with stiff expressions.
[We respect your declaration of neutrality. However, should you break that promise and continue provocative acts, punishment will take precedence over all else. This is His Grace's will. Do you understand, Baron?]
"...Of course. I shall engrave His Grace's words in my heart."
[Hmph. Maintain that attitude.]
Bzzzt.
The communication ended abruptly—without even a perfunctory farewell.
"...The audacity of a mere proxy. Tch."
"Well, it's the Walterheim Ducal House. Still, this eases our worries somewhat. At least we won't have to rely on Master's intervention."
"If that retainer's words hold, Vifros will focus on gathering troops for the capital rather than attacking us. That buys us breathing room, but the situation remains concerning."
"What's done is done. For now, we should focus on what we can do."
Patrick nodded absentmindedly.
But he still hadn't realized that the scope of his son's "what we can do" far exceeded his imagination.
The murder at the Grand Noblesse—the death of scribe Larry Clet—escalated into civil war within a week, marked by direct armed clashes.
The first spark ignited in Count Tritan's territory, north of the royal demesne centered around the capital, Gran.
Count Tritan, aligned with the Second Prince's faction, bordered the royal demesne to the south and Count Zahid's territory—aligned with the First Prince—to the east. While mobilizing troops in response to the prince's summons, Tritan's forces unexpectedly clashed with Zahid's army, which was heading east through the royal demesne for similar reasons.
The unforeseen battle between the two counts upended all strategic plans crafted by the central command.
Since this was a civil war over royal succession, territorial conquest wasn't the primary objective—targeting the princes or the two dukes was.
Thus, those who had planned to strike at key figures were left floundering as war erupted in an entirely unexpected location.
Worse, because the clashing forces were border lords—critical military assets neither faction could afford to lose—reinforcements had to be dispatched.
Consequently, all expectations of short-term central clashes or assassination attempts were dashed. Instead, a sprawling frontline emerged, stretching from the northern territories down to the royal demesne, cleaving the kingdom east and west.
Moreover, scattered clashes erupted across the realm as nobles who hadn't gathered at the capital began mobilizing their forces independently.
The war showed signs of prolonging—the worst possible outcome, drawing sighs from the kingdom's wise and concerned minds.
As the situation deteriorated, both factions' leadership began squeezing every last drop of manpower from their subordinate territories.
Thus, Vifros, too, had no choice but to leave behind a minimal garrison and march the bulk of his forces to the central front.
"Your Grace, isn't it too risky to strip the main castle of so many troops?"
"Lentor remains. As a high knight, he's more than capable of maintaining order."
"That's not my concern. What if the MacLaines—"
"...Unless they've gone mad, they wouldn't dare ignore Duke Jordan's warning."
"Still, as a precaution, Sir Lentor's tactical skills aren't quite on par with his martial—"
"It's fine. Most of the kingdom knows why Duke Jordan earned the title 'Blazing Sword.' Unless they're suicidal, they wouldn't defy his word. Unless they've gone mad..."
Unconsciously, Roger repeated the phrase—"unless they've gone mad."
Even he had mobilized his forces so recklessly out of fear of the duke's temperament.
Any sane man would.
Yet, even as he spoke, an inexplicable chill of foreboding settled in Roger's chest.
Had anything involving MacLaine gone as expected lately?
His words trailed off under the weight of that unshakable unease.
And as if to reassure himself, he muttered again:
'Surely... they wouldn't dare. Unless they've gone mad.'
"We must seize Vifros now!"
At the gathering of his vassals, Logan declared war once more.
Naturally, they were aghast.
"Didn't you receive a warning from Duke Walterheim?! Are you suggesting we ignore the caution of a duke—a Transcendent?!"
"Yes."
The sheer brevity and finality of his answer left Dwain speechless, frozen in place.
"Vifros can't retaliate anyway. In this situation, they can't afford to withdraw forces of his caliber from the central front."
"But the warning itself could be seen as a challenge to the Second Prince! They might absorb losses just to make an example for other neutrals—!"
"No. We started this war before the civil war. This is purely a feud between houses—interpreting it as a challenge to the Second Prince is stretching it. Neither the prince nor Duke Jordan is foolish enough to take losses over such a forced interpretation."
"Surely you didn't anticipate this when fortifying Tomodo—no, that can't be. You don't know the future. Hah. Hahaha. What in the world...?"
Logan smiled faintly as Heinkel unknowingly hit the mark, but the mood remained grim.
When the vassals glanced pleadingly at Patrick, the lord—who had been lost in thought since before the meeting—finally sighed and spoke.
"Fine. Even if everything you say is correct, Duke Jordan Walterheim will hold you accountable eventually. Have you considered that?"
"No. I haven't."
"What?! Have you forgotten your past mistakes already?! For once, consider all possibilities before—!"
"There's no need. Duke Jordan Walterheim won't live long enough to hold us accountable."
The sheer certainty in his voice left the room speechless.
Soon after, MacLaine's forces began moving busily once more.