Chapter 172
Chapter 172
"Oh, Cleo. Come in."
Unlike the king, who seemed pleasantly familiar with the visitor, the Sword Duke raised an eyebrows at the unfamiliar voice and instinctively turned around.
The sight that greeted him through the opened doors of the grand hall made his eyelids twitch involuntarily.
Court ladies carrying trays of extravagant palace cuisine.
The lavish spread, more fitting for a banquet than a memorial service, was accompanied by the ladies' scandalously thin garments, revealing glimpses of skin beneath their fluttering silks. The Sword Duke couldn't help but frown.
"Your Majesty. What in the world...?"
"Ah, as I mentioned—this is a ceremony. A memorial service, if you will. Today marks the conclusion of the 27th Rite, so let us be indulgent. Hahaha."
At those words, the Sword Duke's brow furrowed imperceptibly.
The 27th Rite—a memorial service where prayers were offered alternately to the Nine Deities for three days each to honor the departed.
Of course, no memorial service in any kingdom involved such revelry with wine and feasting.
Suppressing his disappointment, the Sword Duke deliberately shifted the topic.
"That gentleman appears unfamiliar to me?"
The amiable-looking official, who had been directing the court ladies to arrange the food and placing a bottle of wine retrieved from his sleeve, flinched slightly.
"Ah, he was originally a clerk in the Inner Palace Bureau, but his talent for understanding people's hearts earned him a promotion to Chamberlain. Your Grace may entrust most matters to Cleo from now on."
"An honor to meet the esteemed Duke."
Though the Chamberlain bowed with impeccable courtesy, the Sword Duke instinctively found him grating—perhaps due to the circumstances.
"Once the 27th Rite concludes today, pay special attention to His Majesty's health. Ensure his wine intake is moderated."
Though the words were directed at the Chamberlain, they were clearly meant for the king.
Yet, whether oblivious or indifferent—
"How could I possibly sway His Majesty's will? I merely follow orders."
The Chamberlain's reply grated on his nerves.
"You worry too much, Royal Tutor. I know my limits."
Even the king seemed slightly uncomfortable.
While offering loyal counsel was a subject's duty, pressing further when the sovereign refused was not. The Sword Duke could only suppress a sigh and bow his head.
"My apologies, Your Majesty."
"Nonsense. How could I not recognize your concern for me? But I am no longer the child you once guarded—spare me the excessive worry."
"I shall keep that in mind, Your Majesty."
"Good. Now, we've strayed from the matter at hand. What brings you here?"
"Indeed. It concerns..."
Eager to move past the awkward topic, the Sword Duke cut straight to the point.
"...the decision regarding Kairan Ulvus, who has been prostrating himself before the palace gates. I fear idle rumors may spread if he were to perish there."
"Ah, that opportunist? I was just about to reach a conclusion. Given the palace's still-recovering state, we have little choice but to accept him, insolent as he may be."
Fortunately, the king seemed to share his view.
"However, I intend to demote his title, leaving him only a small fief in the borderlands while restricting his military authority. And given his hidden wealth, I suspect at least an elder from the Royal Magic Tower will accompany him."
"...A wise judgment, Your Majesty."
Relieved that the king's faculties remained sharp, the Sword Duke exhaled silently—
"Haha. Now that official business is concluded, Royal Tutor, won't you join me for a drink? Surely you didn't come only to discuss work?"
—only to reluctantly raise his cup at the king's insistence.
When was the last time I drank in broad daylight?
Today, the wine tasted especially bitter.
"Your Grace. A communication has arrived from the palace. If you would review it..."
After enduring an unpleasant, drawn-out conversation, the Sword Duke was about to leave the palace when the voice of a palace attendant stopped him, earning a baffled look.
"Why report this to me?"
"Chamberlain Cleo is currently in audience with His Majesty, leaving no one else to consult but Your Grace."
"Regardless of who it is, His Majesty's affairs take precedence. Simply inform them to contact us later."
"But, Your Grace..."
The attendant hesitated, further souring the Sword Duke's already foul mood.
"Is this communication truly urgent?"
"Yes. It is from Count Logan MacLaine."
A twitch.
"Ah, Logan. Hah... Very well, lead the way."
"Thank you, Your Grace."
The lingering influence of his former student within the palace was not entirely welcome, and the attendant's incessant bowing only worsened his irritation.
A new era, carved at the cost of tarnishing a lifetime of honor.
The growing weight in his chest hinted that this era might diverge slightly from the future he had envisioned.
[It's been a while, Logan.]
"...Master? Why are you receiving this communication?"
Logan, midway through bowing to the face reflected in the communication orb, froze in surprise.
[His Majesty appears occupied at the moment. Speak to me instead.]
Even his master seemed in low spirits.
"...Is something troubling you?"
[No, nothing. Not yet.]
"Not yet?"
The peculiar choice of words stiffened Logan's expression.
[Pay it no mind. You contacted the palace for a reason, did you not? State your business.]
Pressing further when his master spoke thus would be improper. Trusting that his master would handle matters, Logan cut to the chase.
"I wish to confer a title upon one of my retainers. Having exhausted the peerage-granting authority awarded as wartime recompense, I sought His Majesty's permission for an additional barony."
Given Logan's current standing, such a request wouldn't be difficult.
Yet his master's already grim expression darkened further.
[...A title, you say? Logan, recklessly exceeding your authority will...]
"...lead to corruption. I know. But this will be the first and last time. I swear it. I failed to properly reward a retainer who served me loyally in an area where my foresight fell short. This is my belated redress. I beg of you, Master."
Logan prostrated himself fully to convey his sincerity.
After a prolonged sigh, the Sword Duke finally relented.
[...Very well. You seek no additional fiefs or rewards beyond this?]
"None."
[Hah. Fine. I will speak on your behalf. But remember, Logan. This is the last unwarranted title you confer.]
"I will remember."
[Good. Expect news soon.]
"Thank you, Master."
The communication ended without further reply.
His master's demeanor was undeniably unusual, far from pleased with his request.
Something must truly be wrong.
Lost in concern for his master, Logan was about to leave the communication chamber when—
"Sob. My lord, why... for someone as unworthy as me... Hic."
Dwain, his face a tear-streaked mess, burst into the room, overcome with emotion.
Logan soon found himself wrestling free from the bearded administrator's sobbing embrace.
And within a week, Dwain's baronial appointment arrived in MacLaine.
"...In recognition of his significant contributions, commoner Dwain Filchner is hereby elevated to the rank of baron. By order of His Majesty, King Rogers von Grandia."
"WOOOOOAH!"
The moment Logan finished reading the decree, thunderous cheers erupted.
Every official, attendant, and soldier gathered in the administrative hall roared in celebration.
Given the lack of ill will toward the bearded administrator, smiles spread across most faces in the crowd.
"Sob. Thank you... Thank you, my lord."
The newly minted baron, who had wept a week prior, now welled up again.
Logan instinctively stepped back before chuckling and clapping Dwain on the shoulder.
Then—
"Our brother is a noble now!"
"Don't you dare look down on us again! Hmph!"
—came the shouts from the remaining two of the portly trio, sparking a cascade of congratulations.
"Congratulations, Baron Dwain!"
"Baron Dwain Filchner! Congratulations!"
Amid the cheers, Dwain was swept into the crowd, his massive frame vanishing as he was paraded boisterously around the estate.
"Now, with Fabian and Rockman—was it?—those new administrators, you'll have capable hands to rely on, won't you?"
Still emotionally overwhelmed, Dwain sniffled with an odd mix of laughter and tears.
"Though truthfully, they're more competent than I am. Truly... truly... thank you."
"I need people I can trust, not just skilled ones. I know nothing about administration. Bear with me a little longer. No thoughts of retirement, understood?"
"Yes, yes, my lord! I'll give my all as long as I can still read documents!"
Good.
Because you'll be handling paperwork for a long time yet.
The day Logan could finally step back from administration was nearing.
That thought alone brought a satisfied smile to his face.
Dwain's ennoblement had a greater impact than expected.
Not only on the man himself but also on the morale of both existing officials and newly appointed administrators.
-In MacLaine Territory, even civil officials can earn nobility by proving their loyalty and competence.
Administrative efficiency soared, and though the officials still looked exhausted, their eyes shone with an almost eerie fervor.
How long this will last remains to be seen.
Moreover, the number of applicants for administrative positions had multiplied in the meantime.
For MacLaine, currently swamped with work, this was undoubtedly positive.
"What's with that bustling crowd over there?"
"Ah, those are applicants for administrative positions."
"Administrative applicants? Civil officials?"
"Yes, Sir Heinkel."
"That many people vying for bureaucratic jobs? Don't those require some brains?"
"Word has spread of the territory's rising prominence, attracting talent from all over. I've heard knights petition for enlistment regularly too..."
"Oh ho, is that so?"
The soldier's words made Heinkel's eyes gleam.
He promptly headed straight for the estate.
"My lord!"
"Oh, Sir Heinkel. What brings you here?"
"I heard a thousand applicants flock daily for civil service positions."
"Hm? Are you interested in administrative affairs now?"
"Not at all. But if educated, literate candidates gather in such numbers, recruiting soldiers now would yield even greater results."
It was a plausible argument.
Becoming a soldier of MacLaine, now the kingdom's most influential house—
With no ongoing wars, enlistment would undoubtedly surge.
"Ah, I was just considering recruitment. Our current forces are insufficient to garrison the expanded territory. Would you oversee it?"
Crossbow troops could be expanded by merely enlarging the existing militia.
But recruiting and training as many potential knights as possible was also essential.
Logan had no reason to refuse if the veteran knight was eager to take charge.
Heinkel grinned and nodded.
"Of course. I'll use the aptitude test you mentioned before as the selection criteria."
"Please do. Though it may seem unusual..."
"Not at all. Those selected by that standard seem to manifest Force far quicker than others."
"...What?!"
Heinkel's words stunned Logan.
"...You can sense that?"
Something Logan believed only he could perceive—
Could a knight who had lost his Force truly detect it?
"Yes. It's... Losing my Force made me more sensitive to its absence."
How is that possible?
Losing Force heightens sensitivity? I've never heard of such a thing, not even in my past life.
Unaware of Logan's inner turmoil, Heinkel smiled sheepishly.
"Regardless, it's rewarding. I can clearly spot those with knightly potential."
"Ah... I see..."
"I'll prepare a report detailing the required numbers and training schedule."
"Yes, please do. But Sir Heinkel, could you elaborate on this sensation?"
Noticing Logan's changed expression, Heinkel tilted his head but obliged.
"Of course. It's quite simple."
Heinkel explained in detail the shift in his perception after his injury.
Hmm. Is this possible?
Logan fell deep into thought, unable to shake off Heinkel's words.
He didn't doubt the knight.
His account aligned with what Logan himself had long sensed.
But the process—
His explanation—
Struck something profound in Logan's subconscious.
Losing Force and surviving is already rare. And Sir Heinkel was gravely wounded by Aura—making his case even more unique... Yes, Aura!
The destructive power of Aura, which disrupts Force at its core.
And the heightened sensitivity after losing Force to Aura.
When I died in my past life...
The final scene he witnessed.
And the transcendent senses he gained upon regression.
If he could find the common thread...
At that moment, a golden light flickered at Logan's fingertips.
As night deepened, the radiance gradually intensified into a richer hue.
A luminous glow, starkly different from ordinary Force.
A sacred light.