28. Grand Marshal (2)
28. Grand Marshal (2)
Yuma was damn tired.
So he had no idea why they were looking at him with such fear-filled eyes.
Teo-eok!
Too tired, he just sat down in the chair right in front of him.
As it happened, that seat placed him directly facing First Prince Schubertche.
......
Yuma stared straight ahead, motionless.
There was no particular intent. He was just too tired to move his head. But from the perspective of Prince Schubertche, who was directly facing that Yuma, all sorts of thoughts inevitably raced through his mind.
'This bastard...! Is he warning me?! Telling me not to provoke him!'
Yuma slowly opened his mouth.
I understand you intend to send me to the southern border front.
On the way to the conference room, he had heard the detailed story from Viscount Bennet. Resolve the crisis on the front first. Smash through the Barbarian Kingdom Pyneton, and then locate the White Night Clan. That was what he'd been told.
Bennet had originally intended to emphasize one more thing to Yuma.
It would be best if you appeared to be someone who obeys only the orders of Princess Brigitte. That was what he had meant to say.
But just before going out to meet Yuma, the footage the Red Magic Tower Lord Eldrie had shown him had made it impossible for him to bring himself to utter such command-like words.
He had merely said that it would be good to advocate for entrusting him with the position of Grand Marshal of this war, as Her Highness the Princess's sword.
And Yuma fully understood what implications those words carried.
They're trying to give Princess Brigitte authority, no doubt.
And he had no aversion to that. Because it aligned with Yuma's own thoughts as well.
Yuma decided to put on some serious bravado.
I will stand on the front lines. Because I consider it the duty of one who sets foot on the soil of this Astes Empire.
The problem, if you could call it that, was that to others, it didn't feel like bravado at all.
In any case, he intended to brazen it out.
And I have no intention of following anyone's orders on the battlefield.
Gulp—
Someone swallowed dryly.
And the vast majority felt their breath catch in their throats. The footage they had just seen made anything Yuma said seem justified.
Even when he took no action at all, it created an overwhelming, oppressive atmosphere.
Yuma slowly scanned the faces of the nobles.
I also have no intention of listening to anyone's orders on the battlefield. What position would I have to take so that I don't have to?
A moment of silence passed.
The one who broke that silence was none other than the 1st Princess Brigitte.
A smile drew itself across Brigitte's lips.
There is no position but Grand Marshal. No one on the battlefield can defy your will. And you need not listen to anyone, either.
Yuma tilted his head slowly.
And that's fine? Even if no orders are given?
Brigitte grinned.
Because the current situation felt less like a conference hall and more like the two of them were having a private conversation.
Anyway, Yuma, won't you simply become a one-man army and slaughter all the enemies yourself?
That's probably how it'll go.
It's been that way so far.
The nobles could not bring themselves to follow the flow of this bizarre conference.
In a situation that felt like the two of them were having a casual chat, they dared not speak a single word.
Brigitte now decided to bring this situation to a close.
I now declare before this assembly. I appoint Yuma as Supreme Commander of this war, Grand Marshal. And if this war is successfully concluded, I shall grant him the title of Grand Duke. Let anyone with an objection step forward.
The moment Brigitte's words ended, the eyes of the nobles, who had been suppressed by fear of the existence called Yuma, flew wide open.
Grand Duke, she said.
A man who held no title whatsoever, suddenly a Grand Duke!
From the nobles' standpoint, they could not help but be displeased by that shocking declaration.
...I believe the granting of the Grand Duke title is a matter that requires careful consideration, Your Highness the 1st Princess.
Though most harbored discontent, there was only a single noble who stepped forward to voice that complaint aloud.
So Brigitte calmly continued to explain the reason.
Yuma has already achieved countless feats of merit. He quelled an act of treason involving a former Ten Seats-level figure. He single-handedly vanquished the dragon that appeared in the County of Rubelt. Is there anyone in this assembly now—no, on this imperial soil—who could match the feats of this Yuma?
All the nobles maintained their silence.
Brigitte looked toward her older brother, Prince Schubertche. Schubertche, too, was unable to say anything.
His merits may indeed seem somewhat lacking, which is why I attached the condition that it be upon the end of this war. If Yuma distinguishes himself in this war as well, I judge him fully worthy of being acknowledged for the Grand Duke title. Let anyone with a grievance speak now.
Schubertche, looking at Yuma who had unintentionally ended up sitting directly opposite him, spoke.
If you are to receive the Grand Duke title, what lands would you wish to be granted?
He felt no desire to voice any dissatisfaction over the Grand Marshal matter.
In the eyes of most nobles, the current situation was that, because of him, the Ten Seats—the core of imperial power—had been cut in half.
For in the present circumstances, there was no one but Yuma who would step forward to the front lines.
Schubertche intended to gauge whether Yuma had a lust for power or material greed.
Even if not now, so that he could later approach Princess Brigitte in secret.
But the words that leaped out of Yuma's mouth were beyond the scope of prediction.
Well... I've been moving busily, so I still don't know the empire's territories well. If there's a piece of land with a decent view somewhere, a recommendation would be nice.
Schubertche's mouth fell wide open.
A recommendation...from me, you mean? Lands you are to receive? Somewhere with a nice view...?
Yeah, as a prince, you'd know well, wouldn't you?
Schubertche felt his vision go dark!
'Of course I know! But what kind of madman would say such outrageous nonsense to the First Prince of a nation!!'
Schubertche felt a profound sense of helplessness and loss at the fact that he dared not voice those thoughts directly to the Dragon Slayer before his eyes.
Born of the most noble bloodline in the nation, this was the first moment in his life he had ever felt so utterly powerless.
Yuma was still staring at him with a bored expression.
As if he were a man who expected no answer at all.
...I'll give it some thought, and recommend you one later.
Sure, looking forward to it.
He wasn't looking forward to it at all. He was just tired.
But the onlookers' gazes were different.
This was the War Grand Marshal, completely toying with the First Prince.
Grand Marshal Yuma slowly rose to his feet.
One last question. Let anyone who has an objection to me becoming Grand Marshal of this war speak now.
Yuma slowly swept his gaze across the assembly.
The nobles knew it instinctively. If they didn't speak now, they would have no further opportunity to protest.
But even knowing that, they could not utter a single word.
Schubertche felt a crushing sense of powerlessness.
God of War Yuma. He had managed to speak up against that bastard—and it had become a meaningless slip of the tongue with no substance whatsoever.
"Then, I'll take it that there are no objections and be on my way."
Yuma strode briskly out of the hall.
***
A night passed.
The place where Yuma opened his eyes was an empty guest room within the 1st Princess Palace.
After sleeping in a high-grade bed, his body finally felt refreshed.
Soon after, the sound of knocking came from outside the door.
"Come in."
The one who opened the door and took a step inside was none other than the Head Attendant, Roian.
"Her Highness the 1st Princess Brigitte has said you absolutely must join her for breakfast. For you are to depart immediately for the front tomorrow morning."
Originally, the plan had been to stay at the Imperial Palace for at least three days, but an urgent dispatch from the front had forced the schedule forward.
It was because the Barbarian Kingdom Pyneton's movements had suddenly commenced.
"Got it."
Yuma sat in the dining hall of the 1st Princess Palace, facing the 1st Princess.
"Yuma."
Brigitte had asked the chefs to prepare a modest feast for Yuma before he headed off to war.
So what appeared before Yuma was, of all things, a steak. Having a steak of passable quality in the morning wasn't half bad.
"It's delicious."
Watching Yuma say that, Brigitte smiled with pride.
"One must eat well to be able to defeat one's enemies properly, so I prepared it with all my sincerity. Hmm, yes. If I were to put it metaphorically... with the heart of a wife sending her husband off to the battlefield."
The analogy seemed a bit strange.
Yuma picked up a napkin and wiped the corners of his mouth, in a manner that appeared highly dignified to others.
"How much has your faction been formed? To the point that, once I've done my work, you could ascend to the Imperial Throne right away?"
This time, Brigitte showed a bitter smile.
"You underestimate me far too much. Of course, a somewhat equal faction has now been formed. All of it is thanks to you. The factions have become comparable now. I suppose everyone has realized just how powerful a force you are."
They were still short of the support of a few countships, but that was a problem time would solve. Because if he completely ended this war, Yuma himself would come to represent the military might of the empire.
"What sort of clan are the White Night Clan?"
It was Yuma who asked the question.
The existence they had to find by breaking through the barbarian nation. The White Night Clan.
"A clan where legend and reality coexist. Even I only became certain of their existence after receiving the oracle through the Saintess this time. It's clear they existed several centuries ago. They are a clan whose continued lineage up to the present was uncertain."
Such a clan hadn't appeared in <Loof Blood> either.
"Their characteristics?"
"Snow-white skin, like white itself. Blue hair. And crimson eyes. Mystical, near-divine swordsmanship skill... Those are roughly the characteristics passed down through legend."
Yuma engraved those traits into his mind.
Brigitte turned her head toward the direction of the small training ground within the Princess Palace.
"Her name was Hestia, you said—a Cat Tribe swordswoman. Were you interested in that sort of type? Yuma."
Yuma stared at Brigitte blankly for a moment.
Was she asking him just now if he was some kind of sexual deviant?
Yuma clicked his tongue inwardly.
"She's useful. Has talent for the sword, too. I merely put her in place as my escort, akin to your knight."
Brigitte's eyes lit up.
"Oh-ho, Yuma. You mean she's an uncut gem of talent you've spotted? Now that you say that, my interest is piqued as well."
An uncut gem of talent, she was indeed.
After all, she possessed the talent to attain the rank of Sword Master.
Brigitte's gaze narrowed slightly. Her two blue eyes met his. Brigitte slowly opened her mouth.
"I felt a little jealous. The being you've chosen... in that regard, I was quite sincerely envious. Cloné must have been jealous too. Of that cat tribe."
Cloné?
Yuma tilted his head.
Knowing Cloné's personality, he didn't think she would feel jealousy toward others—well, he wasn't sure about other people. But toward Hestia, it didn't seem likely.
Hestia was older, but even from just a few days of observation, Cloné had been the one taking care of Hestia. It was the feel of an eldest daughter diligently looking after the youngest.
"Where's Cloné?"
At Yuma's words, Princess Brigitte rose to her feet and answered.
"Both are at the training ground. They'll be training at opposite ends. Hestia with my guard knight, Michael. Cloné will be receiving instruction from the Red Magic Tower Lord Eldrie. It's only a single day of training, at best... so every moment must be precious."
Yuma followed after Brigitte as she walked ahead.
Their destination was the small training ground.