Chapter 103
Chapter 103
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 103
Chapter Title: The Poisoned King's End
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Boundless horizon.
As the days grew cooler, the ripening yellow grains painted the vast fields in beautiful shades of gold.
It was a heartwarming sight that would lift the spirits of any farmer or passing traveler.
Yet the ruler atop the towering castle that pierced the heavens scowled at the view, displeased by something he couldn't quite place.
"...Insufficient."
This ruler was the king of the realm—the one who occupied the highest seat, commanding the utmost respect and possessions as if it were only natural.
But for ages, this kingdom had failed to fulfill that natural order.
And the current king reigning over it, himself included, was no exception.
The hands of the ruler leaning against the castle wall's window were etched deep with wrinkles.
"Though it was impossible in my lifetime..."
Yet defying the years those wrinkles betrayed, the old ruler's eyes blazed with fiery ambition.
"My descendants will ensure the royal family stands tall once more."
The old man stared at the fields for a long while before turning away.
"I shall forge a nation where the king truly reigns as king."
We had rushed here fearing King Montmart might flee, but instead, he sat calmly in his seat, awaiting us.
"You've arrived."
He seemed utterly serene, as if he had anticipated this all along.
"Your presence here means the Livia Archbishop dispatched from the Empire has been defeated, I presume."
"We do not deny it, Your Majesty."
As I stepped forward to respond, the king fixed his gaze on me.
"...You're the one from the Ikenia Kingdom. The third son of the Carviot Count family, was it?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Hah! To think the one who foiled our Philador Kingdom's long-laid scheme was a mere youth like you."
Montmart leaned back in his chair with a hollow laugh at my reply.
"Come, sit comfortably. There's nothing to do until the marquis arrives, is there?"
Instead of answering King Montmart's invitation, I glanced at Mark.
"Young master, I'll guard the entrance and send a letter to the marquis."
I nodded in agreement with Mark's suggestion.
As I sat facing King Montmart, he personally poured me tea.
Slurp!
"Hm? Drink up. There's no poison in it."
For a king whose palace had been seized, his demeanor was far too composed.
"...Your Majesty, if I may be so bold. Are you fully aware of the current situation?"
Until last evening, I had assumed his relaxed chat with Marquis Midas from the walls stemmed from some hidden backing.
But we had dealt with all those Imperial lackeys he relied on.
Even with that support gone, he remained this nonchalant.
'Has the sudden turn of events driven him mad from pressure? Or is he hiding one final card?'
The king addressed me as I stayed on guard.
"Hm? Of course I know. The Empire's reinforcements have all fled, and now it's just a matter of Marquis Midas storming the palace, grabbing me by the hair, and dragging me out. In a word, we're fucked, aren't we?"
Spot on. I had nothing to say to that.
"...You seem well aware."
It was the only idiotic response I could muster.
Slurp!
"......"
"......"
After an awkward silence, I was about to speak first.
It was only natural for the curious to ask, like the thirsty digging a well.
But King Montmart beat me to it.
"You're wondering, aren't you? Why I'm so calm."
"...Frankly, yes."
Clink!
Setting down his teacup, King Montmart turned the question on me.
"Well then, why don't you take a guess? You ruined even my clever son's plans, so you must have some insight."
It was a riddle of sorts.
With the Empire he trusted having withdrawn, he had nothing left to lean on...
Ah.
"...Your Majesty opposed drawing in the Empire."
King Montmart gave a bitter smile.
"Indeed, sharp as ever. One wonders who dared call you a worm."
"...No one calls me that anymore."
I replied with a furrowed brow, and the king chuckled merrily.
"Hahaha! Oh dear, that was insensitive of me. My apologies."
But his laughter seemed somehow hollow.
"Just as you guessed. This king opposed allying with the Holy Empire."
"Then all this was Prince Versailles's doing alone?"
That could drag both the Philador royals and the marquis house down with him. But King Montmart shook his head firmly.
"No, not entirely. I too sought to elevate the Philador royal family above the marquis house. However."
His throat seemed parched, as he kept wetting it with more tea.
"The kingdom I envisioned was one where the king stands truly regal. A puppet regime dancing to the Holy Empire's strings? Unthinkable."
That was the crux of it. Both King Montmart and Versailles clearly wanted the Philador royals to rise.
The difference lay solely in their methods.
Unlike Montmart, who sought to rise through their own strength, Versailles had chosen to grasp the hand of foreign powers.
And a most vile foreign power at that.
"I didn't realize until he became crown prince. That the pillar of the nation would grasp the hand of our kingdom's sworn enemy..."
A thin trickle of blood seeped from the corner of the king's bitter-smiling mouth.
"Cough!"
"!?"
I rose to support him at the sudden change in his complexion, but the king waved me off.
"I-It's already too late. Poisoned long ago. That wretched bastard made it so seizures strike without his regular antidote. Heh. The boy learned power games well."
Even on the brink of death, King Montmart's face seemed at ease.
"Haha! Well, I couldn't restore the royal house, but at least I won't see this land become the Empire's puppet. I can go peacefully. Oh, right—you."
Fumbling in his bosom while seated, King Montmart tossed me a small key.
"This is...?"
"Take it. Joining the rebels was insolent, but you prevented this land from falling to the Empire. Consider it recompense."
After explaining how to use the key, King Montmart gazed out the palace window at the Bertie Plains.
The endless fields brimmed with ripening grains.
"Eve-every time I see it, what a beautiful sight. I wished to be this land's true sovereign. Such a pity... such a pity."
Soon after, King Montmart breathed his last while gazing at the golden fields.
This was one hour before Marquis Midas arrived.
The capital's citizens had long been roused by the night's battles in the palace, Livia's holy magic, and the ensuing commotion.
"Wh-what's happening?"
"A fight in the palace!"
"I-is it Marquis Midas's army?"
The unrest spread even to the walls of Bertie.
Led by Mark, the marquis's knights marched the bound palace knights, soldiers, and servants toward the walls.
"The war is over! Cease this pointless resistance and open the gates!"
"Don't make me laugh! Who do you think you are?"
"W-wait. Aren't those the Royal Guard who returned recently?"
"R-really?"
Those doubting the marquis's knights quieted briefly upon rebellion but fell silent upon confirming the Royal Guard truly bound.
Grrr!
The gates opened, and Marquis Midas entered the capital triumphantly like a victorious general, heading straight for the palace.
There, he soon faced it.
The cold corpse of his lord of decades, King Montmart.
"Your Majesty..."
Marquis Midas approached the body seated in the chair.
His eyes held emotions too complex for words.
"...Did His Majesty leave any final words?"
"He said your rebellion was outrageous, but he was grateful you prevented the kingdom from becoming the Holy Empire's puppet."
"I see..."
Marquis Midas fell silent for a moment.
Gazing at the king's body, he gently touched the face, bringing a brighter, more peaceful smile to it.
"...What would you have me do?"
"That's for you to decide, Marquis."
I drew a clear, cold line at his words.
From here, it was Philador's internal affair. Even my advice might count as interference.
Thus, how to conclude this rested entirely with Marquis Midas.
"Indeed..."
Aware of that, the marquis accepted it readily.
"......"
After closing his eyes in deep thought, the marquis opened them with resolute determination.
The central square of the capital, Bertie.
A man was tightly bound at the foot of a massive cross.
Crowds of capital citizens surrounded him, hurling jeers, stones, and eggs.
"Boo! Kill him!"
"Killing his own father! Not even beasts would touch such scum!"
"Burn him! Burn him! Burn him!"
The mob spewed raw malice, demanding swift execution.
Marquis Midas, standing directly below the cross, stepped forward only when their fury peaked.
"It's Marquis Midas!!"
It was odd.
Just days ago, he had been the rebel leader terrorizing the citizens. Now, he basked in their fervent cheers.
"Silence, all of you!"
His voice, amplified by magic, echoed far and wide.
The bustling square gradually quieted at his command.
As the murmurs died down, the marquis shouted again.
"Hear ye!! The criminal, former Crown Prince Versailles, conspired with the Holy Empire to sow chaos in the realm. Moreover, he poisoned His Late Majesty King Montmart to death. This is!!"
Pausing, he signaled, and papers rained down from surrounding buildings onto the crowd.
"Proof of Versailles's collusion with the Empire! He sowed discord between this marquis and His Late Majesty to bring mutual ruin, then sought to sell the kingdom to the Empire!!"
"Boooooo!!"
"Kill him! Kill him!!"
"You filthy traitor!!"
"Die already!!"
The crowd howled for Versailles's death.
"Thus, I render judgment!! Former Crown Prince Versailles shall be burned at the stake!"
As Marquis Midas declared the verdict and glanced around, executioners lit the cross binding Versailles.
Whoosh!
The flames crept slowly but steadily toward Versailles, licking at the wood.
Feeling the heat, perhaps.
Versailles, who had been unconscious, opened his eyes and laughed maniacally.
"Ha, hahahahaha!! Foolish, ignorant masses blind to the tide of history. You will rue this choice one day!!"
"Booooooo!!"
But the crowd ignored his vengeful curse, jeering until he was fully engulfed and reduced to ashes.
With Versailles's gruesome punishment complete, Marquis Midas spoke again.
"Sir Michael and Sir Yungken, who served under Versailles's orders, along with the rest of the Royal Guard, acted without knowing the full truth, following royal commands! Yet ignorance is no excuse for crime! Thus, they too shall be punished!"
Instead of jeers like with Versailles, the crowd listened intently.
Michael and Yungken were Philador's esteemed, capable knights.
The realm's talents might yet become dew on the execution ground.
As attention peaked, Marquis Midas cried out.
"All of them shall atone by swearing unchanged loyalty to the next king!"
Sighs of relief swept the square at the marquis's judgment, soon turning to questions.
Late King Montmart was dead.
Crown Prince Versailles had been executed for patricide and treason.
Who, then, would be the next king?
None could stop Marquis Midas from ascending if he chose, holding the fertile Nile lands and near-peerless Bertie.
As most expected the marquis to claim the throne himself, he spoke.
"The next king shall be...!"