Chapter 78
Chapter 78
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 78
Chapter Title: Of Course It's a Trap
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"Of course it's a trap."
The voice carried a tone dripping with implication, as if asking why I'd bother stating the obvious.
Chomp! Chomp!
"Hmm. Any particular reason you think that?"
"Oh, reasons? I've got more than I can count."
The voice brimmed with wisdom, sounding like it held the secrets of the universe itself.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
"...Alright, I'm curious. Everything sounds good, but could you put down that turkey leg while you talk?"
"Ah, my apologies."
Buuuurp!
The thunderous belch made his eyes water just a bit.
Swoosh.
As I silently raised my fist, the voice hurriedly intervened.
"Ehehe, come on now. No need to get hasty. I'll explain nice and slow, so put down that menacing thing(?), will you?"
The chubby man quietly set down the turkey leg he'd been holding. His name was Hesway Anne Dwayne.
Once hailed as the strategist of the Golden Cross, who had mastered the principles of heaven and earth.
The man presumed to be Kandar.
"Fine, let's hear it. This is a trap set by the Philador Kingdom? What does the Philador Kingdom gain by luring us into one?"
"Nope, nope. Not quite. It's not about trapping the Alliance."
Dwayne licked the grease from his fingers with a smack and continued.
"To be precise, they're trying to take down Marquis Midas of the Nile territory. The marquis's family has been a thorn in the side of the Philador royal family for ages."
A long, winding tale from the past poured from Dwayne's lips.
From a very distant past.
The founding era of the Philador Kingdom.
To honor the Midas family, loyal vassals and founding contributors to the throne, the king granted them the richest territory outside the capital.
That's right.
The most prosperous land, excluding the capital itself.
The Midas family had no real complaints.
After all, greed beyond one's station only invites disaster.
The problem was that the land of Nile turned out to be far more bountiful than they'd imagined.
"...When the Philador Kingdom was founded, the level of technology was incomparably primitive compared to now. But as time passed and technology advanced, the true value of the minerals—mere rocks back then—began to reveal itself. And Nile? It became a treasure trove blessed by the continent itself."
Generations passed like that.
Whether the Midas family wanted it or not.
The overflowing wealth of Nile made the marquis's house the richest in the kingdom.
"The current Marquis Midas is the same, but the family has never been one to wield military might. Naturally, they'd never dream of rebelling against the crown. But regardless of what they thought, the royals saw it differently."
Clink!
Dwayne tossed the picked-clean turkey bones onto his plate and pointed at me with the last leg bone in hand.
"Right around when bad blood was brewing, the Sword Family and you, Young Master, visited Nile. For the marquis, it was an opportunity. Separate from their loyalty to the crown, they'd want nothing more than to secure their safety."
'Up to here, it matches what I thought.'
The Gift Ring had emerged from my contest with him.
But in my previous life, there'd been no reason for it to appear. No contest.
They'd probably just sold the wheat for gold.
Then, amid the crown's growing pressure, when the royals betrayed the Alliance.
The marquis would have been forced to choose: die or comply.
In the end, Marquis Midas chose to comply, and the Alliance fell to betrayal from the rear.
'But one puzzle piece is still missing.'
If this was the real 'Kandar' I knew.
He'd know exactly why the Philador royals were now dredging up rebellion charges that never existed in my previous life.
My faith had wavered after years of him just stuffing his face, but this time, I'd know for sure.
Gauging my reaction, Dwayne set down the turkey leg bone and said.
"...From that look, you're wondering why set the trap now."
He pulled the pudding dessert toward himself, scooped up a big spoonful, and pointed it at me.
"It's that mana cultivation method you gave Marquis Midas. The Flower Wheel. That's the problem."
'Bullseye.'
Hiding my inner thoughts, I asked back.
"How so?"
"Come on, what have you been listening to? It's the marquis's one weakness—the reason the crown left them alone. And you handed them the weapon to overcome it. You, Young Master Jerome."
Dwayne's guess was spot on.
The Flower Wheel.
An outdated cultivation method in our family, overshadowed by my improved Flame Wheel, but that was by our standards.
In a continent starved for mana cultivation techniques, the Flower Wheel was still a priceless treasure.
Once the Midas family mastered it, their weakness—their lack of military power—would fade over time.
So now, before they grew stronger, the crown was moving to eliminate them under the pretext of rebellion.
A scheme elaborate enough to summon influential figures from every nation—they wouldn't back down.
But.
'From my position, no reason to side with the crown.'
The Philador royals had betrayed the Alliance in the past.
Marquis Midas had betrayed too, but it was unclear if it was ambition or royal pressure.
In that case.
I needed to talk to the marquis before contacting the crown.
If he was the type to cozy up to the Empire out of his own ambition, I'd let them exhaust each other as much as possible.
But if not of his own will.
Who to side with was obvious.
'Guess I'll head to Nile territory first.'
Detouring to Nile before the capital meant time was tight.
"Not going."
"Huh?"
Saladin's usual whiny tone(?), but this time it felt different.
"If I don't wanna, I don't. No matter what you say, I'm not going this time."
"Hmm."
Fair enough. I'd worked him ragged lately. Even after returning, nonstop training.
"Fine, suit yourself."
It was about time to give him a vacation anyway. Without another word, I turned to leave Saladin's room.
Thud!
As the door closed, Saladin—who'd been checking Mimi and Nene—glared at it.
"...That punk. Least he could do is ask three times."
Of course, Saladin had no intention of budging this time either, but human psychology being what it is.
Turning away so cleanly left a needless sting.
"Whatever. It's nothing major—he'll handle it fine."
Shaking off the stray thought, Saladin refocused on Mimi and Nene.
Following Jerome would just mean more incidents. The guy attracted trouble like a magnet.
But Saladin knew now was the time to hone his power to its peak.
No more standing idle and sniveling.
"Not coming."
"...Huh?"
Almost an echo—Beskin said the exact same thing.
"Before heading to Olivia, I need to drill the Blizzard Knight Order in naval combat until it's second nature. Same for me."
Water dripping from his soaked body fresh from the lake, Beskin shook his hair dry.
"...Yeah, alright. Can't argue with that. Sorry to put you through it, Sir Beskin."
Beskin was diligent by nature, but lately even more so.
'Can't interrupt when he's in the zone.'
Besides, naval battles were inevitable en route to Olivia with me.
"...Should've asked three times for it to feel right."
Eyeing Jerome's retreating back, Beskin smacked his lips.
Going with him was bound to be fun.
'Might even get permission to release the seal.'
But no helping it now. Beskin knew Olivia's importance too.
"Gah!"
"Huff, huff! I'm dying!"
Ravins, Cheryone, and the other Blizzard Knights poked their heads out of the lake one by one.
For mobility, they wore cloth instead of armor, but knights couldn't slack on adapting to even casual weight.
Each knight trained laden with lead weights like human ingots.
Commendable, proud bunch.
But.
Irritation flared in Beskin at not joining Jerome because of training.
"You lot! What're you doing? Back in, now!"
"Captain, we just climbed out...!"
Ravins stepped up pleading for mercy(?).
"Quiet!"
Wham!
"Gwah!"
And earned the honor of re-entry first.
Splash! Splash!
Leading with Ravins, Beskin shoved Cheryone and the rest back into the lake.
During the Philador journey, the Elunheim orc war.
He'd done nothing.
'No more being dead weight in Olivia.'
After stuffing the last knight in, Beskin prepared to dive himself.
Pause!
But instead, he veered to the lakeside training ground.
When he returned, his body bore twice the lead weights of any knight.
Splash!
'They were serious.'
Saladin and Beskin's refusals.
I knew exactly why they wouldn't join.
Whoosh!
Because they'd want to be useful to me later.
Whoosh!
I'd respect their resolve.
Whoosh!
"Miron, you're kicking up dust."
"Ah! Sorry, Young Master. I just can't slack on training even for a moment."
Miron, swinging his hefty battle hammer nearby to work up a sweat, sheepishly hung it on his saddle.
Clunk!
His horse's legs seemed to buckle for a second.
My imagination, probably?
"I've trained hard for two years to be of help to you, Young Master. I want to be useful on this journey!"
Flex! Flex!
Kids grow fast in puberty, sure.
But Miron's growth was a bit much.
'His age was...'
"Miron, you're sixteen this year, right?"
"Yes, Young Master! Thanks to your good feeding, I'm pretty big for my age, haha!"
'...Bigger than in my previous life.'
Seeing Miron surpass his past height drove home how crucial nutrition is at the right time.
Though he also bore a Heterogenous Power: Frenzy.
Only at early stage 2, but he could tangle with mid-tier Expert knights.
No—even with his natural monstrous strength.
His destructive power might exceed that.
No issue pulling his weight, at least.
Plus, Miron had strengths Saladin and Beskin lacked.
Clack! Clack!
"Young Master, all set! I'll start the campfire—rest a bit."
Look at him now.
At dusk, he'd pitched the tent and prepped camp like a seasoned hunter in seconds.
"Thanks."
"No trouble. I'll prep food—wait just a moment."
Thud!
Miron grabbed the battle hammer from his saddle and vanished into the woods.
Wonder what animal's skull that thing will crack....
Flop!
I sank into the soft bed of grass leaves Miron had deftly laid out. Cushy.
Three moons and stars blazed in the darkening sky.
'History... why does this damn history keep changing?'
In old tales, regressors knew the future, raked it all in, flew high.
Why was mine such a mess?
Crackle, crackle.
Alone in the quiet woods after Miron left.
I pondered the road ahead by the fire's snap.
'...An unexpected variable.'
The night before departing with Miron.
I reported to Father, handing over Prince Julius's sealed letter and my Philador plans.
"Right. Who you taking?"
"Miron this time. He needs real experience."
"...That muscle pig?"
"Yes."
"...You need more experience than him, seems. Anyway, got it. He'll manage his share."
After a few questions and answers, Father shoved the letter into his desk drawer.
'Not a speck of worry.'
Fair. Miron grew up in the slums.
He'd tasted life's every flavor—sweet, bitter, salty. Unshakable.
Plus, to outsiders, this mission looked low-risk.
"I'll prepare and leave tomorrow, then."
"Wait."
As I bowed and turned to leave, Father stopped me.
And handed me a letter.