Chapter 89
Chapter 89
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 89
Chapter Title: Nile's Warm Welcome
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The Holy Empire of the Northern Continent, plagued by harsh climates and barren lands, suffered from chronic food shortages despite its national power.
To unite the restless hearts of its people amid such unforgiving conditions, the Empire sought ways to bind them together.
The first was their state religion, the Golden Lion Church.
Led by the Empire's pride, the Twelve Archbishops, the church preached its doctrines to soothe the populace.
The second measure directed the people's blades outward, implanting a national vendetta against foreign powers to prevent them from turning on the imperial family.
The Southern Continent.
Unlike the harsh north, the fertile, bountiful lands of the south had long been the Holy Empire's dream and ultimate goal.
And the Philador Kingdom was the nation that best fulfilled that ambition.
"We've barely crossed one border, but the air itself feels completely different, young master."
That was Miron's first impression after passing through Fran Kingdom's border and completing entry procedures into Philador.
"Exactly. Each nation in the kingdom alliance has its own distinct flavor."
Had they leveraged that well, they could have generated synergies to rival the Holy Empire.
But since they hadn't and had crumbled instead, it was a double-edged advantage at best.
"It's amazing. How can neighboring lands look so utterly different?"
Miron had good reason to say that.
Unlike Fran Kingdom, where the Carviot Count family name had earned them a lavish(?) welcome at the border,
the fields leading from the kingdom's walls to the nearest territory stretched out like a horizon of endless wheat.
"Philador Kingdom is almost entirely plains. Fran's border marks the start of the mountains, so of course the scenery differs."
'He'll faint when we reach Nile.'
Having visited Nile—the kingdom's crown jewel—I wasn't surprised, but Miron clearly was.
"I've never seen wheat fields this vast... The people here must never know hunger."
"Right. Even in great famines, Philador has no records of starvation."
Aria's attendant mages, though less awestruck than Miron, were still impressed by the legendary Philador wheat fields.
Then Aria, immune to the wheat's allure, turned to me.
"Young Master Jerome, we're heading west, right? Isn't the capital, Berti, east from the northern border?"
She didn't know my plans, so the question was natural.
"Good question, Lady Aria. We'll split up here."
"Pardon? Why so suddenly..."
"Now that we've crossed into Philador, we're safe from the Empire's monsters. Berti's just two days away."
'Plus, thanks to Vladimir, the Empire's paladin order got wiped out. No issues there.'
Of course, Aria had no way of knowing that.
Besides, my next stop was Nile, home of Marquis Midas—the very purpose of this Philador trip.
In case things went south, I didn't want unnecessary misunderstandings involving Lady Aria.
'No way I'm earning Father's wrath over that. Absolutely not.'
Crucially, I'd already shattered her conviction that magic was everything. No need to stick together anymore.
"Then, Lady Aria, see you in the capital in a few days."
Aria, who'd been listening silently, bit her lip before speaking.
"...Fine. But."
"Hm?"
"Please don't be late. I still have much to ask you, Young Master Jerome."
The shock of clashing with Vladimir lingered, it seemed.
'She's got a lot on her mind.'
Exactly what I wanted. Her power was essential to piercing the Empire's greatmagic armor. If she reconsidered, all the better.
"Of course. Well then, onward!"
I gave Aria a slight bow and turned my horse.
Not toward the east and capital Berti,
but west, to Nile and Marquis Midas.
"......"
Aria watched Jerome and Miron ride away for a long while.
"Let's go, my lady. Such rude fellows."
Urged by her attendant mages, Aria finally turned to them.
"Rude? Sullivan, is that what you think?"
"...Pardon? They abandoned escorting a noble lady to the end. Isn't that utterly lacking in manners?"
"...Ha."
Aria let out an involuntary dry laugh at Sullivan's baffling response.
What on earth had they seen?
Just days ago, Young Master Jerome had boldly revealed his mastery of the Heterogenous Powers that royals and nobles feared.
To thwart the Holy Empire's ambitions, no less.
So his departure now must tie into that same goal—surely he had some plan.
Thus, she'd parted amicably despite regretting the lost chance for more talk.
Yet here they were, nitpicking his rough speech and manners.
'Am I the one who's been wrong all along?'
Leaving her family had opened her eyes to things invisible within its walls.
"...My lady?"
When Aria fell silent, Sullivan cautiously spoke again.
"...It's nothing, Sullivan. Let's go. It’ll take time to reach Berti."
Ignoring her attendants, Aria turned her horse east.
For some reason, their attitudes left her chest feeling a bit heavy.
Two days after parting from Aria's group, we arrived in Nile. Miron's first words were simple.
"Whoa..."
Hardly surprising. When had a mining town boy like Miron ever seen such sights?
Endless wheat fields, livestock in every serf household.
No territory on the continent rivaled this prosperity.
"Young master, would Marquis Midas really rebel? With lands like these, does he need to?"
"Depends on the person. Some might be content, but to others, this is prime ground for ambition."
I neither affirmed nor denied, lest preconceptions cloud his judgment.
'The marquis I met didn't seem the rebelling type, though.'
Answers would come upon meeting him.
Waiting at Nile's gates, chatting with Miron, our turn came quickly.
"Halt! This is Marquis Midas's territory of Nile in Philador Kingdom. State your affiliation and status... Huh?"
The guard, mid-routine, widened his eyes at me.
"C-Could you be... Young Master Jerome of the Carviot Count family?"
"You know me?"
"Of course!"
The soldier bowed hastily.
"During the great famine, I helped guide you! An honor to meet again!"
...An honor? Really?
"Well, fancy that. Nice to see you. Mind guiding us to the marquis?"
"My pleasure! I'll escort you myself. This way!"
Apparently promoted, he handed off duties to a junior and led us courteously.
Hm. Something felt off.
'...This is weird.'
Not just him—the junior taking over,
and the nearby folk who'd overheard,
all gazed at me with warm fondness.
Why?
Unsolved, we reached Marquis Midas's mansion. The odd goodwill intensified.
"Huh? Aren't you Tom from the outer walls? Shirking duties?"
The gate knight scolded the guard called Tom, but
"Young Master Jerome of Carviot Count family is here!"
"What! You should've led with that!"
The knight bolted inside faster than Tom.
Hm.
...Reactions were truly bizarre.
How long after the knight dashed in?
"Ha ha ha! Who might this be but Young Master Jerome! You should've sent word—I'd have come to greet you!"
Absurdly, Marquis Midas himself appeared at the entrance.
Slurp!
"Ha ha, don't just sit there—have some tea. A blend of fruits sourced right from Nile lands. Unique flavor you won't find elsewhere."
Ignoring the commotion outside(?), the marquis sipped tea calmly in the drawing room.
"Marquis, what's your angle?"
His attitude clashed with the external show. I had a hunch why, but needed confirmation.
"Ha ha ha, angle? Such harsh words between 'us.' No need for that."
He emphasized "us" oddly. My guess solidified. Sly fox.
'He's flaunting friendly ties with our family to the world.'
To whom? Obviously the Philador royals.
"...You already know everything, don't you, Marquis."
I didn't mince words.
"Heh heh, no idea what you mean. I'm just welcoming the direct heir of the count family that shared their precious 'mana cultivation method' with us."
Despite sensing it, he played innocent to the end.
Slurp!
The marquis's hand trembled faintly as he drank.
"......!!"
I grabbed pen and paper from the table, grumbling at him while writing.
"What's this? Last winter, I asked for more wheat, and you ignored me. You take our family's mana method wholesale, toss us one batch of wheat, and call it even? We're the ones losing out here!"
His excessive welcome. His evasive ducking despite it.
Only one conclusion fit.
Unlike my mouth, my hand wrote quietly.
-Any bugs listening?
Reading my note, he nodded cautiously.
"Someone in the know acting like this. Deal's done—now haggling extras? Didn't your father mention that?"
-Royals planted someone. Magic artifact in my room.
"That's too much!"
Bam!
I slammed my left hand on the table, replying with my right.
-Reason for welcoming me. Asking our family for help?
"Not too much at all. Thought you brought new opportunities, but no. Wasted my welcome. If you're here to strong-arm, get lost."
The marquis's eyes twitched.
-Yes. Help me out.
Short note. Weighty implications. I asked carefully.
"Was about to leave anyway. Thought visiting you despite royal summons was polite, but no sense of honor? Truly disappointing."
-...Rebellion. Really planning it?
He bit his lip, voice laced with frustration.
"Outrageous. No more to say. Too late for lodging. Leave at dawn."
-Rebellion, huh.
A bitter smile crossed his lips.
-I'm just.
"Like saving a drowning man, only for him to demand a reward. Disappointing."
-Trying to survive.
To me? Or the royals he'd served loyally? With ambiguous words,
the marquis—unbefitting a lord of one land—sent me a humbly simple written plea.