Chapter 162
Chapter 162
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 162
Chapter Title: Audience in Byzantium
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The streets, painted a stark, pristine white and devoid of color.
Following Luna's guidance, I walked the austere paths inside the Vatican toward Byzantium.
As a delegation, we'd received word that a carriage would be provided, but I politely declined.
We had ample justification. Though we'd come to lodge a protest, this was the land of His Holiness the Emperor, the most sacred figure on the continent. Walking on foot to show proper respect would do. The messenger practically skipped away in delight.
Of course he did. The scion of the Carviot Count's family—their biggest obstacle—was humbling himself. They must be thrilled.
Fine, revel in it all you want. In exchange, I'd scout every corner of the Vatican's inner workings as I moved.
"The day has finally come."
Luna, who had been slowly guiding us through the Vatican, suddenly spoke up.
"It has."
"Who do you plan to back?"
Luna cut straight to the point.
"Personally, I see the First Prince—backed by Pope Francesco—as the strongest choice. But considering future moves, the Second Prince isn't bad either. He controls the empire's commerce. And His Majesty the Emperor? Well, he's the master of this nation already."
A razor-sharp assessment. Backing any one of them had clear advantages. But that also meant their flaws were equally glaring.
"Conversely, the First Prince becomes a kite without a string once the elderly Pope falls. The Second Prince has nothing but money. The Emperor will pour all his power into preserving his throne. If Ibarella makes concessions and strikes deals, there's no reason for him to block her external maneuvers."
Plus, whichever two I didn't back would harbor grudges against me.
"Ibarella probably calculated that far, which is why she didn't bother ambushing us. No matter who I back, she figures the tide will eventually turn in her favor once time passes."
"You understand well, Young Master Jerome. So I'll ask once more. Who do you intend to support?"
As Luna repeated her question, a towering palace came into view ahead.
"You'll see the answer for yourself inside there."
Though we'd set out before dawn, the Vatican's immense size meant we arrived at Byzantium in the early morning, the sun already fully risen.
With prior arrangements in place, we entered Byzantium smoothly and were promptly ushered into the imperial presence.
Thud, thud.
I advanced step by step toward the one seated at the pinnacle of the current continent.
About fifty meters away?
"That's far enough."
A heavy pressure, like a mountain range, emanated from the man standing behind the Emperor.
"Do not approach further, whelp of a kingdom."
It was an arrogant, condescending attitude unfitting for receiving a formal delegation from another nation, yet no one objected to the man's behavior.
He was the sort who viewed every nation on the continent as beneath the empire—and he possessed the skill and bloodline to back it up.
One of the Three Dukes: Duke Kaiser the Mount Tai.
No matter how much my power now surpassed my past life's, I couldn't afford to act brashly against Duke Kaiser on his throne. He was a powerhouse who saw the world from the same heights as my father.
Stepping back one pace from the range of his pressure and kneeling caused the mountain-like oppression to vanish as if it had been a lie.
To control aura with such precision over a mere step's difference—it was astonishing.
"Third son of the Carviot Count's family, Jerome von Carviot, you may raise your head."
Only after the elderly man seated languidly before Duke Kaiser spoke did I lift my gaze.
"I'd love to say you've had a hard journey... but you didn't come here for empty pleasantries, did you? So, what is it you want?"
A brazenly direct question.
"We'll express our thanks for safely escorting the empire's Grand Archbishop all this way. As for your family's spy... well, fine. A child's failing is the parent's failing. Even if it's a potential enemy state, if we've been caught, we apologize. What choice is there?"
'Potential enemy state...'
Well, in the near future, when you're dragged from that throne, it'll become reality.
"But here's the thing—these two issues are completely at odds. Isn't your family our nation's most irritating foe? We could rage over the spy, but there's no reason to coddle their Grand Archbishop."
He was wrong. The two matters shared a clear commonality: they diminished Ibarella's authority.
I'd stated it explicitly in my letter, so this seasoned ruler of a vast empire surely grasped my intent.
Yet he asked so bluntly to test me.
To judge if I was a cub who understood the big picture enough to discuss grand strategy—or just a pathetic bug hurling a scrap of paper to whine.
Knowing his aim, I'd play along.
"If I may, Your Majesty. May I raise my head?"
"Granted."
Raising my head, I took in the faces of those flanking the throne.
The empire's Prime Minister, Knight Commander, priests... amid the many figures present, one man and one woman stood at the Emperor's sides.
The two men to his left were surely the First and Second Princes, who perished by Ibarella's hand in my past life.
The woman to his right was unforgettable, even in dreams. Though she bore fewer marks of time's weathering than when I'd last seen her, those fierce tiger-like eyes were unmistakable.
'Long time no see, Ibarella.'
Unlike the Emperor, whose gaze brimmed with intrigue toward me, Ibarella's expression remained impassive.
As expected. She'd held back from ambushing me before we reached the Vatican, already anticipating I'd pass the Emperor's test. She had my measure, to some extent.
'Damn, she's terrifying.'
I swallowed dryly and began answering the Emperor's question.
"Before addressing Your Majesty's query, may I pose one of my own?"
My words instantly drew sharp killing intent from Duke Kaiser and the surrounding holy knights.
"Permission granted."
The intent receded at the Emperor's reply, but their piercing glares lingered.
They deemed it insolent to dodge the Emperor's question with one of my own.
Arrogant bastards.
"I wish to know where Your Majesty's will truly lies."
In the tense atmosphere, I slowly addressed the Emperor.
"My will?"
"Yes. Though the empire and the continent's kingdoms have warred for ages, under Your Majesty Emperor Pedro's reign, there have been mere skirmishes—never a major conflict escalating to diplomatic crisis."
Of course, it stemmed from his petty fixation on power, but I couldn't say that.
"Not just my family, but the Five Nations Alliance on the central and eastern fronts, and even Osiris Kingdom—I've heard the same holds true. From this, I've reached one conclusion."
Emperor Pedro's eyes gleamed.
"Ho! I'm quite curious what conclusion this young kingdom noble has drawn, risking the perilous journey here."
Perfect. His interjection showed he'd guessed my prepared response.
"I believe Your Majesty has no desire to squander national strength needlessly against us or the continent's kingdoms. Yet something feels off."
I paused for effect, shifting my gaze to Ibarella before continuing.
"Philador Kingdom's rebellion and the betrayal of Hexagon—my family's core forces. These diverge sharply from Your Majesty's prior path, but Your words ring true: apologizing to a potential enemy state is unwarranted. Unless... it wasn't entirely Your Majesty's will."
The Emperor's eyes flashed. Reading his silent urging, I pressed on.
"After rescuing Grand Archbishop Luna from death's door in the mountains, she told me she'd nearly lost her life to Third Imperial Princess Ibarella's schemes."
"Hm, yes. It was in your protest letter."
"These two aberrant events—clashing with Your Majesty's peace-oriented reign—and the attempt to massacre key imperial figures including Grand Archbishop Luna... we sensed a profound dissonance."
"Ho, what dissonance?"
"If it were Your Majesty's will, every benefit from their success would accrue not to you, but to Princess Ibarella."
I probed Ibarella's expression mid-conversation, but her unchanging face betrayed nothing.
"Thus, we concluded these were Third Imperial Princess Ibarella's independent actions, not Your Majesty Emperor Pedro's will. As this concerns not just our kingdom but all continental realms, we had no choice but to come to the Vatican and inquire directly. Your Majesty, do you plan to bequeath the throne to Princess Ibarella?"
"……!!"
The question carried immense weight.
If Emperor Pedro affirmed it here, it would proclaim us not potential enemies, but outright foes.
All Ibarella's actions would retroactively become his will.
But if...
"No need to reveal imperial matters to foreign envoys... but you have your reasons for asking. No successor to the throne has been decided."
As now—with no successor named...
"Then these events stem solely from Third Imperial Princess Ibarella's unilateral decisions."
It would cement Ibarella as solely culpable.
"We revere Your Majesty Emperor Pedro's peace-loving reign. Treating and escorting Grand Archbishop Luna here was our way of demonstrating that."
"Ho, how admirable."
Emperor Pedro gazed at me fondly. Of course—handing him the moral high ground felt good.
'Emperor Pedro, sorry, but you can't handle Ibarella alone.'
No amount of meat revives a toothless tiger.
"Now knowing your will, I answer your question. We have a small request."
"Out with it."
Emperor Pedro seemed pleased, as if he'd already seized part of Ibarella's power.
How long that mood would last was another matter.
"While treating Grand Archbishop Luna, I heard her sermons. The Golden Lion Church's teachings resonated deeply. Thus, we humbly request dispatching her as a missionary to our territory."
"...Hm. Doesn't Ikenia shun the Golden Lion Church?"
"True. But Grand Archbishop Luna's profound faith moved us deeply. With Pope His Holiness's approval, we earnestly wish to host her as our missionary."
I turned not to the Emperor, but toward the First Prince.
Mikhail, the Golden Lion Church's proxy in the imperial court, backed by the Pope as heir to the Hecaron line.
"I boldly appeal to First Prince Mikhail, designated proxy for Pope His Holiness within the palace. Will you grant this?"
Mikhail's sour expression brightened; the Emperor's soured.
This would make Mikhail the first to successfully dispatch a missionary to the southern continent—not just beyond the empire, but to its arch-rival Banten.
No small feat; he'd never refuse.
Though Luna was primed to betray at any moment—a fact Mikhail couldn't know.
Sure enough, Mikhail nodded furiously.
"Hahaha! The Shield Family's third son is a man of true insight! Very well, I gladly grant it!"
'That's two down.'
Finally, I regarded the Second Prince, Cale, beside him.
"Come to think of it, the merchant caravan you supported, Second Prince, played a pivotal role in safely escorting Grand Archbishop Luna. Our thanks."
I bowed.
"As a token of gratitude—nothing grand—but might you arrange a modest trade between your recommended merchants and Banten?"