Chapter 90
Chapter 90
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 90
Chapter Title: The Marquis's Resolve
-----------------------------------------------------------------
It was a pitch-black night without a single speck of light, but the servants of the Marquis Midas's household were quietly going about their tasks in preparation for the coming dawn.
Among them were some who moved a little differently from the ordinary servants.
The table in the reception room where Young Master Jerome, visitor to Nile territory, and Marquis Midas had raised their voices was dotted with splatters of tea, a testament to the emotions of the two men who had been there.
Swipe.
The maid wiped away the tea stains cleanly with a cloth, then tidied what appeared to be a decorative item in one corner of the reception room. Before long, she quietly swapped it out with an identical one from her bosom.
She finished cleaning the reception room as if nothing had happened and leisurely made her way out.
"Good evening, Sir Mark."
"Ah, Vivian. You're working late into the night—much appreciated."
The maid greeted the knights standing guard outside the reception room brightly and struck up a conversation.
"The hard work is all yours, Sir Mark, and the other knights'. Here, have some snacks while you're at it."
The maid called Vivian carefully offered a basket filled with treats.
"No alcohol since you're on duty, but I figured this might tide you over... Hehe."
The knights' faces lit up at the sight of the basket Vivian held out.
"Well, I'll be! Thanks a bunch. We were just getting peckish. We'll dig in."
"Hehe, it's nothing! Well then, carry on!"
"Sure thing."
The knights watched the polite Vivian depart with appreciative gazes.
"Man, who would've thought we'd get such a lucky charm around here."
"No kidding. She's been here such a short time, yet she picks the nicest things to do."
"Let's see... Whoa! Meat!"
The knights only glanced at Vivian briefly before becoming engrossed in the snacks.
Step, step.
"......"
Vivian left the knights behind and quietly headed to a secluded spot.
It was a pitch-dark alley that would frighten any woman, but Vivian's steps were unflinching.
"...An excess beyond measure rightfully belongs to its true owner."
What did that mean? As Vivian muttered something incomprehensible,
Swish.
A masked man emerged from within the alley.
He silently extended his hand toward her.
"Here, today's take."
Vivian pulled out the decorative item she'd taken from the reception room and handed it to the man.
"Good work."
As the man infused the item with mana, a small voice began to emanate from it.
-...Isn't that a bit too much?
-...Be gone by dawn, or rot.
Incredibly, the ornament was replaying the conversation between Jerome and the marquis from earlier that day, word for word.
"...Hmm."
The man eyed the ornament suspiciously.
"The conversation shifts too abruptly from the marquis's initial hospitality. Any chance it's been tampered with?"
When the man asked, Vivian recounted the traces in the reception room.
"Doesn't seem tampered. It matched exactly what I heard outside the room, and there were clear signs on the table of the two arguing."
"What’s the marquis doing now?"
"Reading a book before bed."
"Anyone approaching him?"
"We've filled all his guards today with our people. No traces of contact with the Carviot family heir."
Vivian, having witnessed the two men's actions herself, judged tampering unlikely, but the man still wanted further verification.
"...Confirm Young Master Jerome's departure from Nile tomorrow morning. And check to the end of tonight that no one contacts the marquis."
"Yes, sir."
Only then did the man seem satisfied, his figure gradually fading into the darkness.
While the maid Vivian conversed with the mysterious figure, Jerome was encountering Marquis Midas in a place he never would have imagined.
The underground prison of the Marquis Midas's household, no less.
"I never dreamed His Excellency the Marquis's chambers connected directly to Nile's underground prison."
I was genuinely impressed.
Linking a dungeon for housing all manner of criminals to the family head's private room.
Not something anyone with a normal mindset would do.
"Even the royals haven't grasped this place. Only the knight commander and head steward have access to my chambers."
"Are they trustworthy?"
With royal plants everywhere now, could even they be trusted?
To my concern, Marquis Midas nodded confidently.
"They've guarded our house for generations. Besides, they don't even know of this passage. It only opens to the direct blood of the Midas marquisate and the family seal."
Swipe—
The marquis showed me his bleeding finger, as if to prove it was no lie.
Indeed. With security layered like this, no one would notice.
"I see. Your Excellency, shall we get down to business? How much do you know?"
-I just want to live.
The final line from the marquis's note earlier.
It reconfirmed that Marquis Midas had been a man uninvolved with rebellion.
The marquis sighed deeply and spoke.
"Hoo! I know it all. Even that the royals gathered alliance dignitaries as a smokescreen to strike our house."
"...So there was a reason for welcoming me so grandly across all Nile territory."
"I won't deny it."
It had been off from the start.
Flower Wheel. A precious cultivation method, sure.
But incomparable to the wheat Nile provided during the great famine.
That wheat had preserved not just our kingdom's power balance but countless lives.
Yet they treated me like an honored guest?
The marquis's aim was obvious.
Publicly flaunt ties with the Carviot count family to halt the royal advance.
But it was just a stopgap.
Once I visited the capital and the truth came out, it was mere stalling.
'Yes, understandable for survival.'
"......"
Marquis Midas watched me in silence.
He probably didn't want to voice the plan that followed.
"Your Excellency. You've made up your mind. To rebel."
The marquis's eyes widened slightly.
"...How did you know?"
His question carried surprise, as if he'd never expected me to catch on.
"The moment I raised my voice with you. You raised yours right back."
Yes. My outburst had been a test.
Had the marquis truly meant to flaunt our ties and deter the royals, he'd have soothed me then. But he chose clash for clash.
The implication was clear. Show conflict with me to let the royals dispatch troops without scruple to crush the rebellion.
And while the royals prepared...
The marquis planned a surprise strike on Berti.
"...I can't fathom why someone like you was called a worm. Rumors aren't worth trusting."
...My old slur resurfaced, wrinkling my brow, but now wasn't the time, so I let it slide.
"Right you are. Three days after you depart for Berti, I will."
The middle-aged noble, who seemed only merchant-sharp, now had eyes steeled with resolve.
"Behead every royal spy in Philador's court, then lead our house's soldiers to march on the capital."
Hearing the marquis's determination, I had no choice but to choose.
Report his intentions in the capital, or stand with him against the royals.
My deliberation was brief.
'Royals who stab the alliance in the back mid-war? Useless even if they exist.'
Better to aid the marquis's rebellion, elevate his house as Philador's core, and expand our family's influence there.
'Failure ends us here, though.'
Greater risk yields sweeter fruit—that's choice.
"...Centuries as a leashed hound. Bark on command, bare belly on order. When such a loyal dog grows a bit and sharpens its teeth, the master tries to kill it."
Grind!
"...Even the dullest mutt would want to bite, wouldn't it?"
The marquis ground his teeth, his voice grim.
I understood his feelings fully. But I didn't jump to agree. I sensed room to squeeze more.
"Hmm, before that, Your Excellency. What if I hadn't come, or refused aid?"
I tossed it lightly to start.
"Obvious, no? If our territory falls, your cultivation method might leak anywhere. You'd come just for countermeasures."
His face said, 'Wasn't that your thinking too?'
'...Fair point.'
Dulled to the method's value, it didn't touch me deeply.
But it was typical thinking.
"And refusing aid... Don't say what you don't mean. That note aside, even talking now is demanding more from me. Sly fox."
"I won't deny it, Your Excellency."
"You... "
The marquis shot me a glance, then smiled.
"Heh, with the blade at my neck, what condition couldn't I grant? Since it's come to this, I'll reward you handsomely."
His warrior-like resolve softened to the merchant's haggling face from our wheat deal.
"Won't answer probably, but I'll ask. Anything specific you want?"
He asked without much expectation.
Made sense.
A born merchant like him would assume the desperate one opens with terms.
He'd lay out options like market wares, expecting me to pick the ripest.
'Usually true.'
Not this time. I knew exactly what I wanted.
Or rather.
I'd half-expected him to play this hand.
Before departing Philador, as I rose to leave, Dwain—sucking the last of a turkey leg—gave final advice.
"Ah, Young Master. You'll face a choice there. Marquis Midas isn't one to underestimate."
"A choice?"
"Munch. Yeah. He'll either grovel deeper for royal mercy... or bite first."
Dwain spoke as if he saw it clearly.
"Grovelling, nothing more to say. But if he bites... he'll inevitably seek your aid."
"Can't predict which?"
"Not a god, can't say. Up to you on-site. But."
Dwain paused, stripping the final meat from the bone.
"If he bites for sure, choose. Aid or abandon. Your call."
Clack.
He offered the bare bone, declaring.
"Aid the royals and abandon him, or aid the marquis and his house. Whichever, demand the same from your ally."
'Doesn't matter which.'
But Dwain was certain I'd back the marquis. Flower Wheel was nice, but his house offered far more.
In other words, squeeze the marquis.
Thoughts sorted, I slowly opened my mouth to him.
"What I want is...