Chapter 110 — Borrowing a Cat's Paw (2)
Chapter 110 — Borrowing a Cat's Paw (2)
The territory stretching to the northern quadrant of Evirgio, the North White Territory.
It was a horizontally long domain bordered by the sea to the north and a mountain range to the south.
Most of its major cities, including Dos, were port cities. With mountains at their backs and the sea before them, the climate remained cool year-round, but the daily temperature range was mild.
In the era of the Former Emperor, when trade with humans had taken place,
Evirgio had produced no grain,
yet Dos in the North White Territory had been wealthy.
With that wealth as his foundation, the Former Lord of the North White Territory challenged the Former Emperor and was defeated by the Former Empress.
And the new great lord installed in the North White Territory was,
unexpectedly, a count.
He was a young wizard who had barely entered his twenties.
A first-generation powerhouse with no house to his name.
Thus his house was unmarked.
He was said to be a native of the North White Territory whom the Former Lord of the North White Territory had discovered and recruited.
Possessing outstanding magical skill and ability,
he rose to an administrative post, gained recognition, and after receiving his title, he continued his meteoric ascent.
"There were two reasons the Count was able to rise so rapidly to Grand Lord around the time of the late Emperor's passing."
For Roan, who was still staying at Zeno Castle,
Shwikviena in Basel was relaying the results of her investigation into the Count via a magic orb.
"First, he is a man who has accrued that much merit."
"Such as?"
"The repulsion of pirate forces coming from Merde, the construction of harbor facilities, the reorganization of Dos, and furthermore, the development of barrier circles defending various points throughout the North White Territory."
"You mean that dock and the like, famous in Dos."
"You were already aware. As expected, you are thorough."
Shwikviena's voice brightened.
A perk of being a former thug.
Even when he did nothing special, he looked impressive.
"It seems you looked into it beforehand. That is correct. The moving dock is a facility the Lord of the North White Territory devised before he even became a count. Loading and unloading speed increased dramatically, and for that, he earned the title of viscount."
"When was that?"
"Eleven years ago."
"Was the Former Lord of the North White Territory not competent?"
"He was notorious even then for neglecting state affairs and obsessing over duels. It is said that once he hired the Count of the Dark Pit, a commoner at the time, he actively employed him in internal affairs and relied on him."
The Count became a grand lord after the Former Emperor's passing, right after the previous Demon King ascended the throne.
Roan remembered granting the title and holding the enthronement ceremony at that time, following Chancellor Aranya's recommendation.
It had been a period when he had just undergone his coming-of-age awakening and was overwhelmed by the massive events of the funeral and coronation.
His memories from then were chaotic and extremely fragmentary, so they were of no help to Roan.
"And the second reason the Count became a grand lord. He was fortunate."
"Fortunate?"
Roan's eyebrow twitched.
Shwikviena's voice sounded momentarily cool.
"Yes. Though whether it truly was fortune is uncertain."
"Tell me the details."
"The reason he caught the eye of the Former Lord of the North White Territory and was recruited was that one of the wizards the lord of the time kept had been murdered."
"...Hm?"
Roan understood why Shwikviena's voice had lowered.
A direction far too violent for mere coincidence.
And it wasn't just that.
"When the pirates from Merde attacked, it happened that he alone was inspecting the docks. He single-handedly annihilated the invading pirates and seized their ships. For that, he was first granted his title."
A slight shadow fell across Roan's face.
If the story matched what he was now imagining, the lord's 'fortune' might be synonymous with 'cruelty' and 'cunning.'
"After gaining his title, he was able to participate in the work of improving the facilities in Dos because he had just been promoted to chief wizard. The reason was."
"...Surely the chief wizard didn't die?"
"...He did. A sudden death, Your Majesty."
"Hm."
In the empty room from which all secretaries and attendants had been dismissed,
Roan rested one arm on the desk, propped his chin on it, and sank into thought.
A man of strong ambition?
Strong enough to kill everyone else to satisfy his lust for power?
Yet the man had seemed to prioritize personal curiosity over political action. If he had calculated politically, he would not have teleported just to see him alone.
Then were the deaths of his predecessors and those connected to them truly all coincidence?
Even the Former Lord of the North White Territory, who was said to have entrusted internal affairs to him, had ultimately died in battle against the Former Empress after his duel with the emperor.
Thanks to that, the Count had become a grand lord.
"Was there a reason at the time not to summon the Count to the capital but instead make him Grand Lord of the North White Territory?"
"Because the Count is the very person who constructed Dos's magical facilities and the defense network across the entire North White Territory. He is a wizard, and he can manage those things more excellently than anyone else."
It was not wrong.
But to accept it without misgiving,
"It is strangely unsettling."
"...I concur, Your Majesty."
Shwikviena nodded toward the emperor, who could not see her.
"However, the Count is a hero in Dos and the surrounding North White Territory. His methods are decisive, but among lords, he is not alone in that. He is also said to have a particular talent for employing his subordinates."
"Hm? Even personnel skills?"
"So he can immerse himself in his experiments, so the reason goes."
"Ah."
Roan chuckled to himself.
The Count had barged into Zeno Castle the day before.
Yet even today, the Count had not returned to Dos and was busy getting on the nerves of the Lord of the West Blood Territory.
Shwikviena's report concluded,
and Roan remained alone in the temporary study, waiting for the Count, who would soon appear to observe him.
Among demonkind, where strength was the highest priority, if someone's eyes opened to ambition, removing obstacles around them by force was nothing unusual.
Keeping such a person close would certainly be uncomfortable for a superior.
But in demon society, to employ such a person, you simply had to be stronger than them—that was the natural order.
He had an obsessive and cruel side,
but so long as Roan could confirm it was at a level he could handle, the Count's remaining merits were of a dazzling caliber.
Roan recast 'Blessing of the Stars,' whose duration had ended, and Comfort Magic on himself.
Right around the time he called for the attendant outside the door and instructed them to bring the necessary items.
"Your Majesty! Have you waited long?"
With a momentum that even made the attendant flinch,
the Lord of the North White Territory flung open the study door.
The clock showed precisely the appointed time: 10 a.m.
"You are punctual."
"A wizard's precision is directly tied to his life, you see. Ahaha☆"
The Count grinned broadly.
In exchange for the Count beginning his research on the crystals,
Roan had permitted the Count's observation time.
Twice a week, two hours a day.
The Count had pouted,
but after being fiercely scolded by the Lord of the West Blood Territory and threatened by the chancellor, he had reluctantly accepted the terms.
"May I take out my observation tools?"
Once the attendant withdrew at Roan's order, the Count, standing in one corner of the study, asked.
Roan nodded readily.
"Make yourself comfortable. I simply need to act as if you are not here, correct?"
A flush of color rose to the Count's face.
"You know the virtue of one being observed well! Yes. Please act as you normally would."
The Count's tail swished round and round in good cheer. Roan dragged his gaze, which had tried to follow the tip of the tail, back to the documents and attempted to read the first report.
But he could not concentrate.
"...What is that."
From his pocket, the Count had produced
an enormous object of a size that should not have been possible.
Noticing Roan's glance, the Count smiled brightly.
"Ah, this is a pocket magically expanded with spatial magic. Are you interested?"
Of course he was interested!
It was an essential item in the game world and every isekai story!
Magic that manipulated time or space was highly advanced sorcery.
Lower-grade universal magic, like conjuring fire or controlling wind, had been disseminated enough to be used in daily life, as in other fantasy stories,
but advanced magic beyond a certain level was the exclusive domain of rare mages.
That space-expansion bag was likewise an exceptionally rare item.
Come to think of it, in the game, the Hero had naturally used an inventory, so why didn't he have one? Even though he had a Status Window.
Fortunately, as the emperor, someone else could always carry his luggage, but.
'Ah, that's not the point.'
Before he knew it, his thoughts had been stolen by the fascinating object. That wasn't what he had meant to ask.
"I am interested. I would appreciate it if you showed me later. But what I meant to ask was something else."
The Count's eyes rounded as if this was unexpected.
"...What on earth are you taking out in the study?"
Only then did the Count look at the massive object he had set down.
No...
The mental world of that fellow, who was setting out a beanbag chair in the emperor's study...
Just how was it put together?
"Ah, this is a chair I devised."
The Count smiled and patted the plush chair.
The chair yielded with a squish, changing shape wherever his hand touched.
"Observation is most efficient, you see, when done in the posture that allows the greatest concentration. Would you like to try sitting in it?"
The Count ceaselessly pulled enormous cushions from his bag and spread them over and around the beanbag chair.
When Roan looked at him with an exasperated expression,
the Count urged him once more.
"It is truly comfortable. Won't you try sitting once, Your Majesty?"
Was this needless kindness...
Or had he installed some kind of abduction device in that beanbag chair?
An attitude utterly unconcerned with others' gazes.
He hadn't committed any great wrong, but it was unclear whether he knew that or was simply pretending not to.
His attitude was strangely infuriating.
He was bound to clash irreconcilably with the blunt, by-the-book personality of the Lord of the West Blood Territory.
Recommending a count like that, the Grand Duke was remarkable, truly remarkable.
"...Enough. Fine. If that is what you find comfortable."
And then the Count muttered quietly.
A mutter that an ordinary demon would not have heard.
"Tch. A pity."
Roan, who had been about to sit back down at the desk, flinched, his body swaying.
That bastard...
Was that chair really a trap?!
Roan slowly raised his head and stared fixedly at the Count.
"Ah. You heard?"
The Count, his eyes having met, laughed awkwardly,
then took out a notepad and scribbled something.
But that notepad was never used again.
The Count, having crawled onto the beanbag chair that swallowed his entire body, curled up hugging a large cushion and began to stare at Roan.
"..."
He started to read the report, but the stare was piercing.
Yet observation was the condition he had set so the count could immerse himself in research.
Though it hung on Roan's mercy,
he could not tell him to stop either.
Roan let out a small sigh and tried to force himself to focus on the writing.
How much time had passed?
— Purrrrr.
A small breathing sound reached him.
'...No way.'
Roan raised his head from the report he was reading.
"..."
No way became reality.
The Count was asleep, clutching the cushion.
A vein stood out faintly on Roan's temple before subsiding. If he had low blood pressure, this might cure it.
He stared openly at the Count.
At that moment, the attendant's voice came from outside the study.
"Your Majesty. I shall deliver the requested items."
"Enter."
And then the steady rise and fall of the Count's back ceased its motion.
He had awakened.
With a face that showed absolutely no sign of wrongdoing, he groomed his ears and tail a few times.
While the attendant set down the items transported on a fine handcart before Roan and withdrew,
the Count slowly blinked and fixed his gaze on Roan.
"Count. You fell asleep."
At Roan's words, spoken as he peered into the long dish the attendant had brought, the Count nodded slowly, without a trace of embarrassment.
"I cannot stay awake at this hour normally, Your Majesty. That is why I requested observation in the evening, but..."
...So that was why he had wrangled with the chancellor over the time. In the evening, His Majesty's rest came first, and the chancellor had browbeaten him with that.
Aranya. Thank you.
"Would it not be no different from not observing at all?"
Though his tone was mild, Roan's words were unmistakably a rebuke.
Yet the Count, his face still drowsy, smiled a faint smile.
"It is different, Your Majesty. Zero and 0.1 are not the same."
'This guy intends to observe only about 0.1's worth...'
"And with that tiny fraction of time, can I not see that Your Majesty is now engaged in something interesting?"
Roan, who had been pouring the liquid the attendant had brought into the dish, nodded slowly after a moment's thought.
"...You are not wrong."
The liquid Roan was pouring
was crimson and gave off the metallic scent of blood.
"What do you use so much blood for?"
The Count's eyes glinted strangely.
But Roan, without answering, drew Fiora from his waist and immersed her in the dish.
The Count's eyes flew wide.
"...You use a magic sword?"
"Mm."
"You see? Have I not already discovered one source of Your Majesty's strength?"
The Count's tail wagged back and forth as he beamed. Roan felt an urge to yank it once.
It looked fluffy,
and somehow he felt he would be wronged if he didn't torment the Count—what was this feeling?
Roan let out a light sigh.
It was the blood of a demon beast, procured to try feeding Fiora, who had been silent since the incident in the bed.
After immersing Fiora in the blood, Roan once more immersed himself in his official duties, and from then until just before lunchtime,
the Count asked a few questions about Fiora and then once again fell deep, deeply asleep.