Chapter 75 — Everyone Has a Plausible Plan (3)
Chapter 75 — Everyone Has a Plausible Plan (3)
The year-end Imperial Council was, for the nobles, the signal flare that announced the New Year Festival period.
Ordinarily, the central nobles would have wrapped up the council hastily and gone off to enjoy the New Year Festival Banquet with peace of mind.
This year, however, was different.
A large contingent of territorial lords who opposed the central nobles was attending the council. Most notably, every Grand Lord was assembled. The officials preparing for the Imperial Council carried a grim resolve.
They could not afford to be humiliated in front of the lords, after all.
"Then, let us convene the 941st Grand Council."
It was the first time in seven years that all four Grand Lords had attended a council session. Even before that, such an occurrence had been so rare as to be counted on the fingers of one hand since the death of the Former Emperor.
Thanks to that, the seats in the grand council chamber, ordinarily sparsely occupied, were completely filled. Even for most of the central officials and nobles, it was a very unfamiliar sight.
Most critically, the owner of the throne situated at the highest point in the chamber was seated in it.
The lords, who had returned briefly from the front lines, were struggling to conceal their astonishment.
The sight of officials asking the emperor questions, and the emperor in turn listening to and sharing his opinions, was even more foreign to them.
The eyes of the Lord of the West Blood Territory went wide, and the Lord of the East Yellow Territory exchanged opinions about the meeting with his close aides with a sharp expression. Only the Lord of the North White Territory kept grinning, his cat ears and tail twitching from time to time.
'Their resolve is formidable. They clearly prepared diligently to avoid being cowed by the lords.'
The sense that the central officials carried a particular edge today must have been because of the lords.
The central officials executed the Imperial Decrees from close quarters, breaking them down into finer details. Their military power was inferior to that of the lords, but they could instead observe the emperor's movements and more easily exert influence over him and his policies.
The lords, on the other hand, were stationed far from the capital. Within their own domains, they were like kings, but staying close to the emperor was no easy task.
Under normal circumstances, the central nobles and the lords would have kept each other in check while vying for the emperor's favor.
But until this past summer, growing closer to the emperor was no path to enjoying power.
No, there had been no way to get close to him in the first place.
Because the emperor had been a natural disaster.
That had made things comfortable for the lords.
During such periods, the safest course was to hide within one's own territory and enjoy the handful of power one could grasp there.
Central officials? What possible advantage was there to be gained by remaining in the capital?
But the emperor had changed.
And so the world had changed as well.
The nobles who served as central officials were now beginning to command power comparable to that of the lords.
The fear had vanished from their eyes, and confidence had returned. They carried the pride of being part of an effort, alongside the emperor, that was transforming the whole of Evirgio.
The lords who perceived this had a variety of reactions.
'...It is hard to believe even as I witness it.'
The Dark Archduke sat deep in his chair, unable to tear his eyes away from the emperor.
The first thing he had sensed the moment he saw the emperor enter the council chamber was that his overwhelming presence had been brought under control.
The violent, ferocious aura, which had been intense enough to discomfort even a Grand Lord like himself, was now suppressed.
The strange power that had numbed the senses of demon noblewomen was also restrained, and he could hear several female lords newly returned from the battlefield sighing in relief.
Some young nobles of narrow understanding even chuckled at the apparent waning of the emperor's presence.
But the Dark Archduke, who was watching for a chance to challenge him, could not smile so easily.
'He has mastered it.'
The powerful force that each person is born with.
What, in the game, was called a 'Skill.'
Through training, the form of that power could be crystallized to a degree, allowing for proficient use.
But to perceive the very nature of that power and wield it freely required the user's ceaseless effort.
Many lived their entire lives without ever even knowing the nature of their own skill.
Even if one identified its origin with the aid of magic, time and effort were needed to bring it to full bloom and masterfully control it.
And the Dark Archduke, the swordsman in this nation who had reached the realm closest to that of the emperor, could tell.
'He has ascended... yet another step.'
The Archduke's brow furrowed. A close aide who flinched at the sight began gauging the Archduke's mood.
The power that had violently constricted everyone's throat had diminished. It was a deliberate suppression. Evidence that his mastery had deepened. But that was not all.
Even with his presence repressed, the source of that momentum remained unchanged. It felt like a great rushing stream being dammed shut. The traces of power leaking through could not be disguised.
The Dark Archduke was a swordsman as well.
And there were two other Grand Lords here who wielded weapons in their own right. They had all been thinking the same thing.
'He has grown.'
The lord of the East Yellow Territory, the Duke of the Desert Blade, glanced sidelong at the Lord of the North White Territory. He was a magician. He probably didn't quite grasp the source of the dissonance the duke felt.
The Count was simply grinning, seemingly pleased that it had become easier to breathe compared to the old days.
From across the hall, the Lord of the West Blood Territory, Archduke of the Red Rampart, wiped at his moist eyes, overwhelmed by emotion. The Lord of the East Yellow Territory let out an inward scoff.
The Archduke of the Red Rampart was a man of deep sentiment.
The lord of the South Black Territory, the Dark Archduke, seemed displeased by this display from the emperor. He merely stared unwaveringly at the youthful, vibrant emperor.
An ambitious man, ever ready to challenge for the throne.
For an archduke who lacked only that final edge and was simply biding his time, the emperor's growth could not be welcome.
He was, after all, the thoroughgoing Dark Archduke, who had even mobilized his own daughter to dig up information on the emperor and create a weakness.
The reason for his actions was simple.
For someone at the level of a Grand Lord, growth was not an easy matter. And the same, of course, was true for the emperor.
Yet His Majesty had grown.
Immense effort must have lain behind that.
'It could not have been easy.'
Seeing the emperor who, for years, had shown only the face of a brute, now speaking with officials about state affairs was a genuinely astonishing sight.
Though a trace of resentment lingered, for now, he was glad.
'I should very much like to hear firsthand by what training you achieved this, and what cast of mind you adopted.'
The Lord of the East Yellow Territory resolved to request an audience with His Majesty as soon as the council ended.
But that was no simple matter for him, either.
"Roan♡♡♡"
No one had the gall to request an audience with the emperor while cutting ahead of the fiancée who was meeting him for the first time in months.
She was an archmage. The daughter of the lord of the South Black Territory. And, moreover, the hero of Evirgio this winter.
In the end, everyone leaving the grand council chamber paid their respects to Roan and Erenier and then departed, all the while eyeing their next opportunity.
The hallway stood empty.
Roan pulled Erenier into a deep embrace.
They had spoken occasionally via communication, but this was his fiancée, whom he was seeing for the first time in months. And moreover, she had done her utmost to keep her promise to Roan.
Thus, the eyes with which Roan looked at Erenier were full of affection.
"Roan...?"
"You've worked hard. Erenier."
With an expression Erenier had never once seen before, Roan spoke in a low voice while holding her in his arms.
Tears welled up in the eyes of Erenier, who had stiffened after barely managing to speak his name.
"H-heuk...."
Erenier gave a choked sob.
"Thank you."
In the quiet hallway before the grand council chamber, now that the nobles had all left.
Roan simply stood there, holding Erenier.
As if all the hard memories of the time apart were washing over her, Erenier kept sniffling in his embrace.
The former Demon King had definitely warned him to be wary of Erenier, but embracing and soothing her was probably acceptable.
She was a fiancée with a peculiar corner of +100 affection, but whether she warranted being called a "crazy bitch," as the former Demon King had, was still unknown.
Remaining guarded and watching her would likely suffice.
Roan thought this as he comforted Erenier.
If he did need to regard her with caution, then most of that danger probably...
"It has been a long while since I laid eyes upon your dragon visage, Your Majesty."
...was due to that fellow.
The lord of the South Black Territory approached and bowed his head deeply.
His manner was impeccably deferential, but as he lifted his head, hostility flickered in his eyes.
'...He's managed to keep himself alive, I see.'
He was a powerhouse.
That was the Archduke's first impression.
It was the first time Roan had sensed a genuine threat within the palace.
The former Demon King must have chosen not to provoke troublesome opponents. That was surely why he had avoided fighting the Grand Lords and simply kept his distance.
This man could not be said to be stronger than Roan, but neither was the gap in ability so wide that Roan could swat him aside without a thought. In a one-on-one fight, he was the kind of powerhouse against whom Roan himself could not confidently guarantee he would walk away unscathed.
So that was why he had let him get away with looking at him with such insolent eyes.
That was Roan's second impression of the Dark Archduke.
A fellow who brazenly stared at people.
Having scrutinized the emperor with a disagreeable look, he addressed Erenier in a tone of voice far too gentle for his expression.
"To show tears before His Majesty. What unseemly behavior."
"...Roan, I'm sorry. I beg your forgiveness, Father."
...What was this drastic difference in attitude?
Was she more afraid of her father than of me, the emperor?
Roan unconsciously looked at Erenier.
Meanwhile, the Dark Archduke, ignoring Erenier's words, looked at the emperor with a stern expression.
"Your Majesty. I ask that you understand the foolish heart of a father who has a daughter. Wherefore did you see fit to dispatch this child to a perilous battlefield?"
"...Father!"
Erenier, who had been about to say something, closed her mouth under the sharp, blue-tinged glare of the lord of the South Black Territory. Roan swallowed a sigh inwardly.
Even without the former Demon King's warning, this was uncomfortable.
"It has been a while, Archduke. You have worked hard."
"...."
The Archduke's eyes widened at this unexpected remark.
In years past, Roan would have ignored him, turned away and walked off, or snarled that it was none of his concern. No, in the first place, he wouldn't have been comforting Erenier like that.
But now, the response was utterly reasonable.
A mere reply to the greeting the Archduke had offered.
And then Roan added a word.
"Your heart must have been very troubled. To see you immediately worry over Erenier without even the leisure to exchange proper greetings."
The Archduke's mouth clamped firmly shut.
The emperor had rebuked him by turning his own action against him.
Even this cunning politician, who rarely left any grounds for others to use against him, could not help being flustered by a situation he was not accustomed to.
The Dark Archduke hastily bowed his head.
"...I beg your pardon, Your Majesty."
"It is fine. I understand."
Roan spoke in a languid voice.
"I, too, had many thoughts after sending Erenier out. All the same, thanks to the victories won by you and Erenier, the armistice negotiations became far smoother. You are remarkable."
"...I am overcome by your grace."
With his head bowed to hide his eyes, the Archduke decided first to conceal his confusion. He had no choice but to acknowledge that the emperor had become far more emperor-like than he had anticipated.
Setting aside the multitude of questions, the Dark Archduke raised his head. For a moment, so fleetingly that no one could have noticed, Roan's brow twitched.
The Dark Archduke looked at Roan with an expression of utmost serenity.
A face so different that the look in his eyes when he had first seen Roan seemed a lie.
He was a politician.
"It is the duty of us lords to lay down our lives in obedience to the Imperial Decree, Your Majesty. That you take such consideration is cause only for honor. However, Your Majesty. To speak of truce in light of the current momentum may be somewhat premature."
Roan's gaze fixed on him.
Upon his pale face, the lord of the South Black Territory wore a smile. What was faintly visible between the parted lips were the fangs unique to vampires.
"Are you opposed to the truce?"
"If you seek the opinion of this lowly subject, Your Majesty, I deem it a waste."
"Hm."
"With the present momentum, it might be possible to march on Spros before spring arrives."
Roan's eyes sharpened.
That, at least, is absolutely forbidden!
If that happened, he would be branded the enemy of all humanity, no question!
There was no guarantee of a one-hundred-percent victory, and there was a reason the 'Deep Winter' was called that.
No matter how excellent the winter gear, soldiers struggling through snow and biting wind could hardly fight at full strength. And if they advanced on Merde, what followed would be siege warfare. A fight where victory was far from certain.
Was this man greedy for military merit?
Did he covet the spoils of war that much?
Or... was there some other motive?
"This is not a matter to debate here and now, Archduke."
Roan shook his head.
"In the Deep Winter, everyone suffers. This war, which has gained us nothing, has already gone on long enough."
"The Merde army is likewise in crisis, Your Majesty."
"Everyone is suffering sufficiently, Archduke."
Roan's 'Overwhelm' spread outward.
The Archduke's eyes, which had been veiling his true expression, trembled faintly. The corners of his smiling mouth fell, and at last were clamped firmly shut.
Watching the lord of the South Black Territory resist his Overwhelm, Roan spoke icily.
"I have delivered my command. There will be another opportunity for debate. I will hear your thoughts then, Archduke."
A stiff expression on his face, the Archduke looked at Roan.
The blood-red eyes of the Dark Archduke were fixed upon Roan, flashing as though they were coming to a boil.
In a low voice, as if grinding his teeth, the lord of the South Black Territory answered.
"Understood, Your Majesty. In my regretful state of mind, this subject has allowed himself an act of discourtesy."
"It is fine."
"I thank Your Majesty for his magnanimity. Then, as you have said, I will present the other matters at the banquet and thereafter. I shall not intrude upon Your Majesty's time any further at present. With this, I shall take my leave, Your Majesty."
The Archduke's lips were smiling.
"See that you do."
If one judged only by the light in his eyes, he seemed perfectly capable of murdering Roan on the spot.