Unexpected Visit (2)
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A week later.
Owen had finally earned his title of junior baronet.
For a while, he was swamped with congratulations from those around him.
"Congratulations on having your name entered in the records!"
That was the main gist of the greetings, and there was a reason for it.
Unlike knights, junior baronets were officially listed in the Imperial Noble Registry.
The one downside was that they had to pay taxes to the emperor regularly in exchange for that honor.
"One day, I'll raid that damned old fool's treasury and get every coin back."
Owen ground his teeth at the new expense, but otherwise, it was all good news.
In high spirits, he treated the breeders of the 5th Dragon Stable to a feast.
"Take the day off and let's roast a whole pig. Speak up if there's anything else you want—we'll have plenty! And stock up on booze, of course!"
The breeders' cheers at the announcement went without saying.
"Ooooh!"
"Meat!"
They dove into preparations from morning, and by noon, the feast was in full swing.
Being on the city's outskirts at the 5th Dragon Stable, they didn't have to worry about prying eyes.
"Sir Leire! Congratulations once more!"
"Wooo! Congratulations!"
The raucous atmosphere showed no signs of dying down.
Owen felt both joy and regret.
He would have to leave the 5th Dragon Stable soon.
No successor had been named yet, but it wouldn't take long.
For now, he'd only told his close aides: Administrative Officer Conrad and Bald John.
"My lord, this humble servant is truly sorry to see you go. I knew this day would come someday, but it's sooner than I thought."
John rubbed the back of his neck, staring only at his cup.
This rough man was surprisingly sentimental and couldn't hide his gloom.
Conrad, beside him, smiled kindly and patted his shoulder.
"Come now. It just means Sir Leire's talents are too great to waste here."
"Brother Conrad, that's true, but…"
In truth, Owen felt a twinge of guilt toward them.
"John, remember what I said before? That honesty leads to poverty?"
"Haha, thinking back now makes me want to crawl into a hole. To think I said something like that."
"No. Ever since that day, I vowed to develop this place as much as the 1st Dragon Stable, and now I'm leaving before I could—it's embarrassing."
John waved it off.
"Don't say that, my lord. Since you arrived, the 5th Dragon Stable has transformed. Even a thug like me feels ashamed of my past."
It was certainly true.
Lately, the 5th Dragon Stable was receiving treatment incomparable to before.
No longer a headache, it had become a proper force.
The dragon match during the recent grand assembly had been the decisive turning point in shifting perceptions.
"I'm grateful for those words. At my investiture, I asked His Grace to improve the stable's standing."
"You did?!"
"His Grace takes great interest in dragon breeding, so things will go well from here."
"Thank you, my lord!"
As they laughed and feasted, a messenger arrived from the palace.
"Sir Leire, His Grace summons you."
Though the party was still going strong, Owen rose promptly at the Surpuk Duke's call.
"Do you know what it's about?"
"I'm not sure. But the palace atmosphere is tense. Even His Grace looks unusually on edge."
Something had happened.
But Owen couldn't guess what.
He hurried to the palace and was led not to the office, but to the rear garden—unlike usual.
There stood the Surpuk Duke, hands clasped behind his back, gazing at the pond's fish.
"Your Grace, you summoned me?"
"Oh? You're here. Come closer."
He beckoned Owen near but said nothing for a while.
Then, with difficulty, he spoke.
"Owen, I received a most peculiar message yesterday. I've been agonizing over how to handle it ever since."
"What is it, Your Grace?"
"…The Dark Elf Queen sent an envoy. She wants to meet me in person."
"Pardon? What do you mean?"
"No joke. She proposed a meeting at a suitable spot on the eastern border."
Owen wondered if he'd misheard.
Why on earth would the Dark Elf Queen want to see the Surpuk Duke?
'No idea.'
Seeing Owen's confused expression, the duke chuckled.
"You always act like you know everything, but now you're finally making a face that suits your age."
"My apologies, Your Grace."
"No need. Even my close aides are stunned. The queen plans to come here to the east herself, with her retainers."
"I can't imagine the reason. Why come here?"
"Rebellion. She barely escaped the capital with her vassals."
Owen's mind reeled.
They'd been discussing lifting her curse, and now this—a revolt out of nowhere.
"…Exile."
"Yes. She requests we treat her as a guest. Protection, in other words. But in all the time the Empire has held this land, this is unprecedented."
"It's hard to decide what to do."
The duke nodded.
Even his four most trusted vassals—the Four Swords—were divided.
"Hot-headed Count Drun called it nonsense. Said it's a golden opportunity: capture the queen and claim the glory."
"The queen wouldn't overlook that."
"True. She won't go down easy. Then there's scheming Russell Count, insisting on deception. Welcome her first, then negotiate with the rebels who hold the frozen north. Sell her off for favorable terms."
"Hah…"
Owen thought it sounded just like the conniving Russell.
"What does Count Bovbert say?"
"Simple: ignore her. Neither attack nor accept. Just wait for the trouble to go elsewhere."
Classic Bovbert.
The last of the Four Swords, Eastern Dragon Commander Bernart Count, showed no interest.
"Bernart only cares about dragons and orcs. His head's full of riding out to sweep the plains clean."
The four counts' views were starkly divided:
Attack.
Deceive.
Ignore.
Whatever.
Owen inwardly marveled at their distinct personalities.
Naturally, it gave the duke a headache.
But Owen couldn't just step in.
A fresh junior baronet meddling in counts' opinions was tricky.
Yet the duke suddenly asked.
"What do you think? What's the best course?"
"Your Grace, wiser heads have spoken. How could I presume?"
"Haha! As if you haven't been presuming all along, young as you are. Don't hold back now."
Even so, Owen hesitated.
He couldn't fathom why he'd been summoned.
Seeing his puzzled look, the duke hinted.
"You've dealt with dark elves directly in Edel."
"That's true."
"Your report said you attended the interrogations. So you know their kind somewhat. My circle only knows orcs—we've obsessed over them our whole lives."
Then he dangled another point.
"Plus, you can consult Bellatel."
"Ah…"
Now Owen understood.
The duke wanted the archmage's wisdom.
Bellatel was currently treating the body-modified Luke.
He'd see no one but Owen and planned to leave after.
Apparently, the duke's requests for meetings had been repeatedly refused.
'Even the mighty Surpuk Duke can't command Bellatel.'
To Bellatel, Owen was the fool who'd nearly suffocated in horse dung, but his fame and status were immense.
Owen racked his brains, deciding to leverage that perception.
In short, sell Bellatel out again.
'Using someone else's reputation is awfully convenient!'
Impressed inwardly, he began with what he'd learned from Bellatel about dark elves.
"Oh? Really?!"
The orc-obsessed duke perked up.
"Yes. Traveling together, I heard plenty. He called the Dark Elf Queen a monster without equal in the world."
"Hmm… Probably. She stabbed Duke Glendower herself, after all. You wouldn't know, but he was a monster too. I still can't believe he's dead."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. Ah, off-topic. Go on."
"From what I learned from Lord Bellatel, it's highly unusual for the queen to abandon her capital and flee. Her power breeds immense pride. She'd normally fight to the death against rebels… This is exceptional."
"So?"
"I think she has a plan. Otherwise, she'd never swallow her pride and come east. She must have something better than dying honorably."
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Listening, the duke nodded to himself.
"Right. She's the brave soul who stabbed Glendower. Not the type to flee a rebellion out of fear. She has something in mind."
"You should meet her."
The duke said he'd already agreed with the queen on a neutral meeting spot.
Accepting would mean leading his entourage from Bris.
Owen planned to tag along somehow.
'Rebellion in the frozen lands is bad news. At least with the queen holding the throne, we can talk. The other houses are mad dogs who just want to enslave all humans.'
Lifting the queen's curse would benefit his future moves.
Though she'd stabbed him in his past life, she'd been the most reasonable until then.
Circumstances had left them no choice back then.
'Revenge is fine, but I can't fight everyone like a thunderbolt-headed fool. That's why past-life Owen Glendower failed. Impossible in my current position…'
Someday he might have to kill her, but not yet.
Not with plains orcs eyeing humans hungrily.
"Best to meet her?"
"Yes, Your Grace. Her aid against the orcs would be invaluable."
"I see. We could be mutually useful?"
"Exactly. She needs to crush the rebels. An alliance with the east's overlord would help greatly."
"Hmph! I won't send my army for those pointy-eared brown-skins."
"It doesn't have to be troops. Supplies for war, or just the pressure of a new ally."
"Hmm…"
"The same for you, Your Grace. Word of allying with the Dark Elf Queen would rattle the orcs."
"You're right. Soldiers with swords aren't everything. Sometimes a single diplomatic missive does more."
Experienced in such matters, the duke grasped Owen's point instantly.
He pondered the Empire's situation and the gains from allying with the queen.
The conclusion: not bad.
"The problem is His Imperial Majesty objecting…"
"No worry there. He uses dark elf mercenaries himself. Hard to pick a fight over it."
"True enough."
The duke thought silently for a long while, then decided.
"Very well. I'll meet the queen. Owen, you give answers my vassals couldn't in one go."
"You're too kind."
"Join us this time. Advise me with that wisdom of yours."
"Of course."
Owen was thrilled inwardly.
He'd needed to see the Dark Elf Queen anyway—now legally.
But the duke added one more thing.
"Oh, Owen. Bring plenty of dragons. Time to show that queen the east's dragon matches."
Owen caught on immediately.
"Ah, a show of force? For negotiations."
"Exactly. Heh heh heh! Smooth talks need such decisive action."
Then came an unexpected proposal.
"You're leaving the 5th soon. How about one last blazing match?"
"A blazing match?"
"Yes. Why not pit us against the 1st Dragon Stable? Last time, the incident cut it short. But now the stage is reset—let's do it!"
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