Chapter 81
Chapter 81
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 81
Chapter Title: Insolence at the Duke's Gate
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The Dalton Kingdom faced off against the Banten Kingdom, with the slave-trading Sharon Kingdom to its right.
A bit further east lay the Yak Kingdom, a land of rough tempers bordering the Osiris Kingdom.
The Five Nations Alliance might have been united, but the temperaments of the northern trio—Dalton, Sharon, and Yak—differed vastly from those of the more southern Fran and Millen Kingdoms.
They couldn't be the same, after all: three nations staring down the Holy Empire from above, and two using those three as a bulwark.
That temperament shone through even in the alliance's signature products.
Weapons from Dalton. Slaves of every stripe traded in Sharon. And Yak's liquors, still brewed in barbaric ways.
Dalton's weapons had advanced due to constant clashes with the Holy Empire.
Sharon's slaves were to match the Empire's numbers head-on.
And Yak's booze? There was even a theory that its proof had risen to drown out the 'fear' of the Holy Empire.
In contrast, Millen and Fran were famed for foodstuffs and daily goods.
It was possible only because they sat relatively in the rear, one step removed from the Empire's threat.
So.
"No need to get so worked up over this treatment, Miron. We saw it coming."
Calmly stating this, I glanced beside me at Miron, his face flushed beet-red as he huffed and puffed.
"But...!! How can they be so rude? We're allies, for heaven's sake. And the Carviot Count family isn't just any house!"
Miron was fuming like this because of what had happened just recently.
The expressions on the Fran Kingdom soldiers' faces during our border entry procedures.
-Carviot Count family? Oh... the Shield Family. From the Ikenia Kingdom?
Miron had probably never seen looks like that directed at our house before coming to us.
Our family was one that even the Holy Empire had to watch warily.
Yet here in Fran Kingdom, even the border guards treated us with lukewarm disdain.
Of course, as allies and honored guests, they didn't outright snub us.
But Miron wasn't a fool; he couldn't have missed the casual contempt in their eyes.
"No need to get excited. They're not deliberately insulting our kingdom—it's just their culture."
It would've been the same even if the Sword Family had come.
"I can't wrap my head around it. How can they disrespect knights this much? Even if magitech is advanced, knights still have a clear role."
This was one of the biggest misconceptions foreigners like Miron had on their first trip to Fran Kingdom.
Time to shatter that illusion quick, or we'd keep running into this.
"There are none."
"...Pardon?"
"Fran Kingdom has no knights."
"...?"
My matter-of-fact words left Miron blankly staring, not grasping the meaning.
He wasn't failing to understand my words—he couldn't fathom how such a thing could even exist.
A nation without knights? Was that possible?
"No knights? Then... how do they fight wars?"
"They don't."
"...?!"
"Fran Kingdom hasn't seen a war on its soil in nearly a century. They've handled all defense with magic in that time."
I pointed to the border walls we'd passed.
"Those walls look ordinary, but they've got a grand magic defense array that can block up to 7th-circle spells. The resident mages reinforce the ritual, and it holds against 8th-circle too."
The secret to installing an 8th-circle grand array on a minor alliance nation's border?
Completely forgoing knights—one of a state's key forces.
"A full century. That's more than enough time to warp not just one man's thinking, but a whole nation's mindset from the roots."
"...But even so..."
Miron still looked baffled.
No surprise there.
By our family's standards—or the continent's common sense—Fran's choices made no sense.
"From atop those walls, one high-circle spell can wipe out knights and soldiers alike. How idiotic must sword-wielding melee fighters look to them?"
"But... not every war is a siege. Sticking solely to magic in the chaos of battle seems foolish."
"Exactly. Good insight."
I looked at Miron approvingly. He was spot-on.
In truth, Fran Kingdom had crumbled by relying too much on its fancy magic before.
"That's why I plan to change Fran's perceptions on this mission."
The one I was escorting was the pinnacle of Fran's magic powers: Lady Aria von Wendinel of the Wendinel Duke family.
In the future that hadn't come yet, she'd be called the Crimson Flame Mage by the Holy Empire—a talent meant to lead Fran's next generation.
Even the stingy Holy Empire, never shy about hoarding talent, had recruited her.
No need to expound on her brilliance.
Change her views, and it could lay the foundation to shift Fran's entire mindset.
'Might even draw out counters to grand magic armor.'
Throw the girl who saw magic as everything into an environment where it fails, and her arrogant belief in magic's omnipotence might crack.
"But how? She's from the Wendinel Duke family. The lord said not to forget our courtesy toward them..."
"He said keep courtesy, not bow and scrape. I'm no vassal of the Wendinels."
Ikenia Kingdom was a far mightier power than Fran, after all.
Our house might hold a lower title, but in kingdom importance, we had nothing to fear.
"If they're rude, I'll respond in kind."
Based on Fran's attitudes and tales of young Viscount Wendinel from my past life?
I could definitely create a situation where magic fails.
Saladin would've shaken his head here, muttering, 'Crazy goes wherever crazy is.'
Stoic Miron just nodded vigorously instead.
"If it comes to that, I'll stand with you, young master, and hold nothing back."
What a good kid.
"Well, only if they act rudely first. Here's hoping they don't."
Of course, I knew better than anyone that was just wishful thinking.
In Fran Kingdom, higher noble houses sat further south.
The official reason: they held superior magitech, making trade with outer alliance kingdoms—Ikenia, Philador, Osiris—easier.
Fran's goods trade was the kingdom's wealth engine, after all.
But the real truth?
'Easier trade my ass. It's for fleeing if war with the Holy Empire breaks out.'
Sure, Dalton, Sharon, and Yak buffered them.
But it was about buying even a little more escape time if war hit.
A shameful reason Fran's royals and elites never admitted, but an open secret to other kingdoms' rulers.
Anyway, that put the Wendinel Duke family's Shudart Territory as Fran's southernmost, barring the capital Prasias.
Meaning we'd passed through damn near every Fran territory en route.
"...">
Miron's chatter had noticeably dwindled after all those domains.
Mature beyond his years or not, he was still a sixteen-year-old boy.
No age to get used to repeated 'disdainful' stares.
Especially when they came from weaker folk.
Hard for a kid to swallow.
He was on the verge of snapping, but held it back desperately, worried it'd cause me trouble.
No point talking—it'd just stoke the fire.
They say a normally even-tempered person raging is scarier.
In my past life, I'd rarely seen Miron angry outside battle, so his darkening mood worried me too.
"Miron, you've endured a lot. Shudart's almost here—just a bit longer."
"...Young master, do we have to swing by the capital Prasias too?"
A lifelong Jaun resident, Miron should've brimmed with curiosity for foreign lands.
Especially the capital, where a nation converged—prime sightseeing.
Now? He dreaded Prasias. That's how fed up he was with Fran.
'Must be sick of it.'
Even for vital alliance house exchanges, no courtesy or trust?
'Allies on paper—how rotten is this alliance inside?'
I gave a wry smile to ease his worry.
"Prasias is southeast of Shudart, not south. No detour needed on the way to Philador. Shudart's our last stop in Fran—don't fret."
"Ah, that's a relief. My hammer keeps itching..."
His sheepish tone clashed with the grim words—he was at his limit.
"...Yeah, one more day to Shudart. Hang in there."
My words proved half-right.
We reached Shudart in a day, as expected.
But entering the Wendinel Duke estate took a full extra day.
What a shock: top house short of the royals—guests galore.
"Next!"
"From Millen Kingdom. Rare ingredients for His Grace the Duke..."
"Hm, Millen mandragora? Prime stock. Next!"
"Dried Osiris seafood specialties. Heard the chief mage loves them..."
"Master Gregory prefers Philador's southern seas over Osiris. Thanks, but no. Next!"
Yeah.
I got it.
Busy with crowds? Fine.
"Th-this...!"
Miron trembled like he had the shakes.
'They requested us, yet treat us like this? Worse than I thought.'
A vein throbbed on my forehead too.
The alliance united might not even beat the Empire.
Yet they handle one of our closest allies like this.
Two possibilities.
They truly didn't know we were coming, or they had zero will deep down to understand frontline warriors.
"...Hm. Worse than I figured."
Time to show them.
Magic isn't everything in this world.
"Next!"
As I steeled myself, the gate guard barked.
Suppressing my boiling rage, our turn arrived before I knew it.
"Ikenia..."
I cut off Miron mid-sentence as he started procedures.
"Third son of the Ikenia Kingdom's Carviot Count family, Jerome von Carviot. Here at His Grace Duke Wendinel's request."
As expected. Even dropping the Shield Family name got a tepid reaction.
"Carviot Counts...? Ah, the Shield Family guests. Word came from above. Follow me."
Nobles have protocols between them.
Especially as invited guests—someone should've greeted us.
If circumstances prevented it, the guards should've apologized: 'Sorry for the wait, couldn't meet you...' etc.
But as predicted, they said nothing and led us on.
Thud, thud.
Following them down the increasingly shabby outer road led to...
The stables.
"The main keep's a hike from the walls—tiring on foot. Pick a horse here and head there."
"...">
"...">
I and Miron were speechless.
"Not even a carriage? Or leading horses? Telling us to pick from the stables ourselves..."
"Oh, no misunderstanding please. Didn't know your preferences, so better you choose."
"...Doesn't the Wendinel Duke family boast space magic arrays? Why make us ride horses?"
"Ah, the space array's on the wall's right side from the main keep. Opposite direction from here."
"I asked why we're riding horses."
Every other guest went right; we went left. Felt off from the start.
I showed clear displeasure, yet...
The guard's attitude barely shifted.
As if daring us: what're you gonna do?
"Misunderstanding. The space array includes warp magic—unfamiliar and uncomfortable for non-Fran folk. Mages might not mind, of course."
The guard paused, then continued snidely.
"The Shield Family lacks space arrays, after all."
"Pfft!"
A rear guard snorted at his senior's line.
He schooled his face quick, but twitching lips screamed forced restraint.
"...">
Peace had lasted too long, it seemed.
So steeped in it, they couldn't imagine.
The wounds soon to scar their bodies.
"Laughing?"
"...Pardon?"
Crack!
"Guhk!"
With a crisp sound, the rear guard who'd smirked spun a full turn and flew back.
"Wh-what is this outrage?! Striking a Duke family guard inside their domain! His Grace won't let this slide!"
"Shut it. No need anymore."
Snap!
"Aaaagh!"
I flicked the senior guard's forehead—the nonstop yapper.
"Guhk!"
He clutched the spot like his skull caved, crumpling there.
Thud, thud.
Squatting two steps before him, the flicked guard panicked.
"Uh, ugh!"
Freaking out over one flick?
'...Can these guys even fight? Never caught a goblin?'
They were pathetically frail.
I closed in as he backpedaled.
"Quit whining. Escort us via space array. I'll ask His Grace about this insane custom myself."
This was me holding back plenty.
Really.