Chapter 76
Chapter 76
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 76
Chapter Title: Declarations and Warnings
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Serious fights between children sometimes fizzle out all too easily due to adult intervention.
This war between the elves and orcs was a perfect example.
The clash between absolute powerhouses Paulo Minerva and Bacchus von Carviot was more than enough to dissolve the conflict between the two races without a hitch.
Yes, saving the elves—who were our trading partners—without major losses was a good outcome.
But there was something nagging at me deep down.
'Paulo Minerva's inferiority complex runs too deep. I never imagined it was this bad.'
I'd only heard that she'd lost to Duke Camille in her previous life, so I hadn't thought much of it. That was my mistake.
'For now, all I can do is trust Millia.'
With Minerva, their long-standing unifying force, no longer functioning, the elves were rallying around Millia.
Millia would handle it well. She was very favorable toward our Banten territory, after all.
Still.
'...I don't like this.'
I hated how my plans had gone awry, forcing me to rely on others for the success of my hastily revised strategy.
'Once we're back in Banten, I need to bring in Kandar—no, Dwayne, no matter what.'
The events I knew from my past life were starting to lose their usefulness.
My plans were growing in scale, and there were far too many variables different from my previous life.
It was high time to prepare brilliant minds capable of actively responding to this ever-changing situation.
"What're you thinking so hard about?"
A gruff voice pulled my head around, revealing a beautiful face marred by an unbecoming scowl.
"...You sneaky bastard. Just when the hell did you hide that kind of power?"
Mercy's expression openly broadcast her extreme irritation.
"What're you talking about, sis?"
"This punk? You went toe-to-toe with that pig leader and tied, right? Everyone already knows, so why beat around the bush?"
She was talking about my fight with the orc lord, Hatan.
'...But what does that have to do with anything?'
As I stared blankly, Mercy continued, still looking peeved.
"Damn punk. There's no way you got stronger in that short time after fighting me. So you were hiding it back then, huh? Right?"
No, I hadn't.
Mercy's guess was only half right.
I had advanced from stage two to stage three after fighting her, so I was stronger—that part was wrong.
But I hadn't used my Heterogenous Power during our spar, so her suspicion that I'd hidden my strength was correct.
'Hmm, how do I explain this?'
She took my brief hesitation as confirmation of something else.
"...Since when?"
"Huh? Since when what?"
"You've had that kind of power all along, so why'd you live like a loser until now? If you'd shown your real strength from the start..."
Mercy trailed off, hesitating, then muttered,
"...I wouldn't have treated you like that."
She glanced away as she said it.
Her rough mouth betrayed her embarrassment over having looked down on me all this time.
She lived strictly by the law of respecting the strong.
It was true(?) that I'd really been weak back then, so there was no need to apologize, but I couldn't exactly say that.
"Forget it, sis. This isn't like you. Just keep doing what you always do. You're giving me goosebumps."
"...You rude little shit."
"Anyway, I'll be leaving Banten in a few years, so no need to stay on guard. Let's get along, sis."
It wasn't quite a lie to cover for not telling the full truth.
Before leaving the family, I had one last thing to do involving Mercy.
So I gave her a little heads-up about it.
"Don't trust the Dark Knight, Darkan, from the Six Shields too much."
"...What?"
"Take it as you will, sis. I'm beat, so I'm out."
"Hey, you crazy bastard...!! Dropping something that huge out of nowhere—what?! You punk!"
I left behind Mercy's cursing tirade and headed toward another thoughtful soul.
"......"
Bacchus's mood had been foul the entire way back to Banten.
He'd spent nearly his whole life in Banten to block the Holy Empire's southward advance.
Especially lately, there had been several signs of suspicious activity from the Empire.
If not for his unusually active third son, Jerome, they might have suffered a devastating blow while sitting ducks.
Yet despite it being a time when he needed to fortify the kingdom even more, he'd come all the way to the Beast Forest because...
He feared his third son might be in mortal danger from the orc lord who had crushed his first and second sons.
The recent accomplishments of his third son were astounding—enough to make one believe the boy had become a different person.
And as he'd discussed with Jerome in the past,
Bacchus instinctively knew his son was preparing something for the kingdom.
He also knew Prince Julius, who would lead the kingdom's next era, thought highly of his son.
But as a parent, his gut told him something more: his third son seemed to be aiming even farther than the prince.
Thus, he sensed how crucial Jerome's preparations were.
That's why he'd come to the Beast Forest himself.
'...No, that's not it.'
Bacchus corrected himself. He couldn't lie to his own heart.
In truth, he hadn't been too worried about Jerome's life.
No matter how rapidly the orc king had grown stronger, he couldn't easily catch up to the realm Paulo Minerva had built over decades, centuries even.
The years lived and burdens carried were worlds apart.
As long as Paulo Minerva was by his side, his son would be safe (or so he believed).
What kept dragging Bacchus's mood down was nearly losing his son to the man he'd once called master.
Worse, seeing his former mentor—now so broken he'd attempt something so outrageous—sparked disappointment that bordered on rage.
"Are you thinking about the elves' queen?"
He turned at the voice.
There was his third son, Jerome.
As expected.
His father's expression was heavily clouded.
No matter how you looked at it, he was clearly brooding over the forest queen, Paulo Minerva.
"...That obvious, huh?"
"Yes. Anyone could see it."
Father shot me a glance before chuckling softly.
"Enough. No point dwelling on the past. You seemed friendly with Paulo's daughter, so push ahead with trade as planned. The orc lord said you'd handle him in four years, so wrap that up before heading to Olivia."
He'd already sorted his personal feelings toward Paulo in that brief moment and moved on to family matters. Father was no ordinary man.
But.
"No, I can't do that."
"What?"
"We can't just leave Paulo Minerva like this, Father. She's truly vital to what I'm preparing."
"......?"
"You said you sensed I'm preparing something for the kingdom, right?"
Through this journey to Elunheim, I'd realized just how arrogant it was to think I could win a war against the Holy Empire alone.
I couldn't prepare for a battle that would decide the continent's fate by myself.
'It's time to start sharing bits of my plan with the right people.'
Choosing the kingdom's gatekeeper—my father—as the first was only natural.
"I did. But that means you need Paulo herself, not just elf trade? What exactly are you drawing up?"
To Father's question,
"Before long, a massive war with the Holy Empire will erupt. One that decides the continent's fate. No one knows yet, but it's safe to say the entire empire is sharpening its blades under the Third Imperial Princess's lead."
I cautiously revealed my personal goal, one I'd kept secret since returning to the past.
"I intend to win that war and protect everyone."
I declared to the giant who'd devoted his life to guarding the kingdom that there was something even greater worth protecting.
"...Win the war, you say."
Father—Bacchus—rolled my words around in his mouth, savoring them slowly.
"From your tone, you've already concluded the war is coming."
"Yes."
"And all your actions so far have been to prepare for it?"
"Yes."
To my calm responses, Father asked,
"Then why speak of it now?"
A perfectly reasonable question.
"Words carry weight only when you're in a position to back them up."
I implied that no one would have listened back when I was treated like a bug.
A soft chuckle.
Father understood.
"You wouldn't have had that problem if you'd shaped up before being treated like a bug."
He poked right where it hurt. But how do you explain being an actual bug back then?
"...People change suddenly, out of nowhere."
That was the best vague explanation I could muster.
Thankfully, Father didn't press further.
"Fine. Paulo for war victory... I see. To face the Holy Empire, we'd need every throne-sitter we can get."
Nodding, he said to me,
"Heading to Olivia is part of that picture too, I assume?"
"Yes, exactly."
"Forget it."
Father shook his head, stopping me.
"It's obvious why you'd go to dirt-poor Olivia. Thinking of branching into the archipelago? Give up on that guy. He swings his shamshir first and asks questions never. Half-beast, that one—no talking to him."
Though both had ascended to thrones of power, unlike with Paulo, Father's eyes brimmed with contempt.
That gaze perfectly reflected the continentals' current view of the archipelago pirates.
"We'll see once I try."
"...Do you even know what Pirate King Balak is like? He's nothing like Paulo."
Pirate King Balak.
The barbarian occupying the lowest seat among the continent's thrones in the south.
He ranked low, but continentals knew why: indiscriminate raids on all southern kingdoms stemmed from his savage nature, not any lack of skill.
"Better to recruit from the Black Lions than—"
"Father."
Interrupting drew a slight frown.
No matter my recent feats, cutting off the lord was bold.
"I understand, but this is something I must do."
"...The south is Sword Family territory."
Unlike with Paulo, no family support in Olivia.
Father was asking if I could bear the responsibility of my choice.
"...We have four years until I go to Olivia."
I answered that I'd prove it with actions.
"Just four years."
"A full four years."
"......"
"......"
After a silent exchange of glances, Father
"Hoo!"
let out a short sigh.
"...Words come with responsibility. Don't forget I despise empty talkers."
He nodded, a mix of warning and worry in his eyes.
"Don't worry about me—bolster the family's forces. The Six Shields are supposed to be the pride of House Carviot. How can they lose to an orc lord?"
No matter Father's central role, an expedition including elites like Kamit and Hakaren from the Six Shields losing to orcs?
'How are we supposed to fight the Holy Empire like this?'
I meant to remind him of our overall low power level and urge vigilance.
"......?"
Father's expression was odd.
Like looking at someone spouting nonsense after a good run.
"......?"
What? Why's he looking at me like that?
"Did I say something wrong?"
"...No. Hm. Yeah, could be."
With that, Father fell silent.
What was that? What's his deal?
Ending our suspiciously awkward talk with Father,
before long, Banten's walls came into view in the distance.