Chapter 160
Chapter 160
The day Logan entered the capital.
The Grand Hall of the royal palace, where the kingdom's affairs and future were being discussed, was stained red with royal blood—an unprecedented event in Grandia's thousand-year history.
Through the mouths of countless soldiers and nobles who witnessed the event, Logan MacLaine's infamy spread like wildfire across Gran.
And the very next day—
"I wish to see His Highness Rogers. Lead the way."
At Logan's single command, the complexion of Count Francisco Romero, captain of the Royal Knights, turned deathly pale.
Yet he could not refuse.
Surely he wouldn't harm the prince who is to become king?
Clutching that single shred of hope, Francisco reluctantly led the way, doing his best to ignore the oppressive killing intent radiating from Logan and the MacLaine knights following behind him.
"Lord Logan. Please wait here for a moment. His Highness will be out shortly."
At the words of the knight guarding the Sword Duke's estate, the procession—which had drawn all eyes as it marched through the streets—came to a halt.
"Is he going to imprison or kill the prince too?"
"Surely not..."
"Surely? Didn't you hear what happened yesterday?"
"Gathering people like this... maybe it's for that..."
As whispers spread among the crowd, Francisco, who had been guiding Logan and the MacLaine knights at the head of the procession, finally sensed something amiss.
A simple fact he had overlooked in the tense atmosphere now surfaced in his mind.
Lord Logan is the Sword Duke's disciple. He must have already known the prince was here. Did he really need me to guide him?
At this rate, he and the Royal Knights would look like mere errand boys for MacLaine.
Just as his expression stiffened at this realization, the estate doors swung open.
Emerging from within was a platinum-haired, blue-eyed young man flanked by knights bearing the eagle crest of Esperanza—the Third Prince, Rogers von Grandia.
His appearance silenced the surroundings.
Ironically, the gazes of the onlookers shifted not to the prince, but to Logan.
Step. Step.
As the prince descended the stairs with a somewhat rigid expression, followed by frozen-faced knights—
Thud.
"Logan MacLaine pays homage to the noble bloodline of His Highness Rogers von Grandia."
Dropping to one knee, fist pressed to his heart in a gesture of utmost respect, Logan bowed deeply.
The sight widened the eyes of many spectators.
Thud. Thud.
"We pay homage to His Highness the Prince!"
The MacLaine knights behind Logan followed suit in unison, their powerful voices unmistakably easing the tension that had gripped the silent streets.
A soft smile replaced the prince's stiff expression, while Louis Hyon, who had been guarding him with tense vigilance, released the hilt of his sword with a sigh of relief.
"Lord Logan—"
"At last, I can fulfill the promise I made long ago. My apologies for the delay."
"A... promise?"
The prince, his expression complicated, momentarily faltered before letting out a small chuckle.
"Ah... I do recall such a promise. Yes, that's right... Hah..."
His quiet laughter soon erupted into hearty peals that echoed through the square.
"...Hahahaha! I never imagined it would come to fruition like this. You've done well, Lord Logan."
The prince clasped Logan's hand, pulling him to his feet before clapping him on the shoulder.
Unconsciously, he had addressed Logan with half-respect—the first time since their reunion.
But those words alone solidified Logan's position.
The Third Prince—no, the future king—was treating him with deference.
After receiving the prince from Louis, Logan escorted him directly to the royal palace.
Announcing a proclamation informing the nation of the new king's ascension, Logan then took up residence in the palace under the pretext of guarding the prince until the coronation.
"Wait—the palace's security has traditionally been the Royal Knights' responsibility, Lord Logan!"
"So I've heard, Your Highness. Shall we proceed accordingly?"
"Had the Royal Knights been trustworthy, would I have needed to stay at the Sword Duke's estate? Lord Logan, I would prefer you by my side."
"I shall serve with all my heart."
"Count Francisco?"
"...I shall obey."
Though the Royal Knight Captain's face twisted in displeasure, even he could not defy the tide.
From that moment onward, the MacLaine knights and their forces began replacing the Royal Guards in defending the palace, Grandpia.
And the very next day, Logan summoned all the nobles in the capital to the palace under the pretext of an interim state council.
"Lord Logan MacLaine... please proceed."
The awkward address—lacking any formal title—made the palace attendants' voices tremble, as they had never spoken it before.
Yet no one dared to laugh at their hesitation.
Instead, the nobles seated in the Grand Hall rose to their feet as the red-haired young man entered through the main doors.
"Ah, there's no need to stand. Please remain seated. Such excessive courtesy is burdensome for someone like me, who holds no title. My apologies for the delay."
With a gentle smile, Logan naturally took his seat at the head of the table and cut straight to the point.
"The reason I've summoned you all despite your busy schedules is that we must form a new cabinet. Though His Highness Rogers' coronation has yet to take place, we still need ministers to oversee the preparations, don't we?"
A new cabinet—meaning those present were candidates for ministerial positions.
The eyes of nobles who had been stifled by factional strife began to gleam with ambition.
Yet despite their visible greed, none stepped forward.
"Ahem. It was Lord Logan who drove out the traitors and rebuilt the nation. We trust and follow your judgment—how could we act out of selfishness?"
Count Roberts Floyd, ever the diplomat, broke the silence with smooth, courteous words.
The other nobles nodded in agreement, chiming in with flattery.
"Well said!"
"Who among us could match Lord Logan's insight?"
"If Lord Logan recommends someone, we'll trust them unconditionally!"
Insight? Unconditional trust?
Logan couldn't help but smirk at the excessive sycophancy.
But this was precisely the reaction he had intended.
Suppressing the twitch at the corner of his eye, he continued.
"Hmm. Since there seem to be no objections, I'll share my humble opinion. Here is a list of 'candidates' for ministerial positions, selected based on my 'limited judgment.'"
Emphasizing certain words, Logan distributed the prepared documents.
As the nobles scanned the list, they could only sigh.
The name at the very top alone made Logan's intentions crystal clear.
[Chancellor: Count Roberts Floyd]
The highest administrative position was given to his future father-in-law.
The rest of the list, too, was filled with names of those close to Roberts—a selection based on connections rather than merit.
At a glance, it seemed like a recipe for disaster, yet no one protested.
"Ahaha... ahem. For Lord Logan to hold this unworthy man in such high regard... I'm at a loss. I shall gladly dedicate myself to the nation."
Though everything had already been decided, Roberts smoothly maintained the cordial atmosphere.
"A brilliant selection!"
"As expected of Lord Logan—your discernment is unparalleled!"
"Unanimous agreement!"
Those on the list smiled, while those left out clapped in hopes of at least receiving scraps.
'In my past life, I executed all the corrupt officials of the First Prince faction who ruined the country. At the very least, these men are better than them. Some were even dismissed due to factional politics.'
Though the list heavily favored Roberts' recommendations, it was still an improvement over the cabinet Logan remembered from his previous life.
'And they'll have no choice but to follow my lead.'
Holding onto that expectation, Logan spoke again in a gentle tone.
"If anyone has objections, voice them now."
There were none, of course.
"Then I shall present this to His Highness. With such swift 'unanimity' among the nobility, he will surely be pleased."
Unanimity?
More like a two-man agreement.
The same thought crossed everyone's mind—except Logan and Count Roberts.
Naturally, no one objected.
"Formal appointments will take place after His Highness' coronation. Those on the list should prepare accordingly."
For the first time since entering the hall, Logan smiled genuinely.
In his past life, he had never cared about administrative competence—he hadn't even heard rumors about it.
After all, how could there be rumors about famous bureaucrats when they weren't knights or mages?
But he had at least one safeguard.
"The lower-ranking officials will prioritize former administrators dismissed due to factional bias, supplemented by graduates of the Administrative Academy. Any objections?"
"None!"
Among the gathered nobles, Roberts was one of the few smiling sincerely.
With his hearty response, the "interim state council" came to a swift conclusion.
Though the civil war had ended and one faction had seized power, not everything had been neatly resolved.
Over a week was spent cleaning up the aftermath of the final battle in MacLaine territory, and another week passed before the Sword Duke returned to the capital, Gran.
By the time he arrived, the capital was abuzz with news of Logan's deeds.
After hearing the stories, the Sword Duke fell into deep thought before seeking out Logan with a grave expression.
"Was all that truly necessary? The royal descendants were mere children, barely past ten."
"I believed it best to leave no future threats. Though, admittedly, I failed to eliminate the First Prince's heir."
Logan's reply, as if regretting only his failure to kill the last royal, left the Sword Duke momentarily speechless.
"...Do you truly believe this serves the kingdom?"
"Yes. Considering the future under His Highness Rogers' reign, this was the optimal course."
"Not your own ambition?"
"Of course not."
Logan's unwavering gaze showed no trace of personal desire.
Yet that very absence unsettled the Sword Duke even more.
"Did you rush to the capital first because you feared I would stop you?"
"...I saw no need to dirty your hands, Master."
"Excuses— Hah, very well. At least you're aware it was a dirty deed."
"...Master."
Logan's expression darkened.
"I've no intention of undoing what's already done. Rest easy."
"...Thank you."
"But remember this: you've already crossed a line."
"Pardon?"
"Your actions today had reason and justification, so I'll let it pass. But I am concerned."
The Sword Duke's piercing gaze met Logan's wavering eyes.
"What do you mean...?"
"Be certain of the lines you must never cross. The moment crossing them no longer troubles you, you'll become no different from Jordan or Juan."
"Master, that's—"
"You once vowed never to resemble them, didn't you? Do not disappoint me further."
Silence lingered between them before Logan finally spoke in a heavy voice.
"...I will never change."
"I wonder."
"...?"
"Had you been the man I first met, you would have answered my question honestly. You came to the capital first to keep me from interfering."
Gasp.
The unexpected remark made Logan's pupils dilate momentarily.
The Sword Duke sighed at his disciple's reaction.
"People always change, Logan. Just as I, who once swore to stake my life on my word, changed to protect you."
"That... I'm truly sorry."
"There's no need for apologies. That was my choice. But you must recognize that you, too, have changed. And remember this: retainers—no, all people—must uphold certain lines to remain human. The moment those lines blur, a man becomes a monster. Like Jordan, who died by your hand."
With those final words, the Sword Duke turned and left, leaving Logan to stare blankly at his retreating figure.