Chapter 77 — Everyone Has a Plausible Plan (5)
Chapter 77 — Everyone Has a Plausible Plan (5)
The last day of the year in Evirgio was December 30th.
The New Year Festival was a two-week holiday encompassing December 30th and the days around it, serving as a symbol that Evirgio's "Deep Winter" had officially begun.
For the nobility, the highlight of the New Year Festival was invariably the New Year Festival Banquet—a banquet that stretched from December 30th, the final day of the year, into January 1st, the first day of the new year.
The New Year Festival Banquet, whose attendance had dwindled without an emperor, was busier than it had ever been since his enthronement.
High-ranking nobles and grand territorial lords who had never appeared at the banquet made the journey. Even lords and nobles without administrative posts received invitations to this year's event.
Every single noble in Evirgio had gathered at the command of the strongest being in the land.
"His Majesty, the great Iron-Blooded Emperor, has arrived!"
The banquet hall, which had been filled with trainees and servants all through summer and autumn, had finally reclaimed its proper place.
The small Light Magic spells fixed to the chandeliers glittered brilliantly, reflected in the dangling crystal, and the finest carpets and ornaments, once taken up, had been returned to their original positions.
And as hundreds of nobles bowed their heads, the Iron-Blooded Emperor revealed himself.
He was accompanied by his betrothed, Erenier.
A black military uniform that emphasized his solid build, and a black cloak trimmed with the fur of a black tiger. His jet-black hair and black horns gleamed, catching the candlelight of the banquet hall as if rimmed in gold.
In the midst of all that black, his solitary, pale face was noble and dazzling, as though bathed in moonlight. A beautiful countenance that was not outshone even by the crown that shone brilliantly above his black tresses.
It was a beauty that could captivate anyone, regardless of their sex.
The power of "Overwhelm" and "Mihon" radiated subtly.
Everyone was staring at him, half-entranced by the Demon King's face, when—
"Long live His Majesty, the great Emperor."
Stepping before the emperor and kneeling, the chancellor praised her sovereign. Immediately, everyone in the banquet hall followed Aranya's lead.
It was the first salute for the emperor in ten years.
"Long live His Majesty, the great Emperor."
The packed banquet hall went silent in an instant. Roan surveyed the assembly with sharp eyes, then took his seat upon the throne. Only then, as if a spell had lifted, did the people rise with a rustle and look upon their emperor.
Erenier, who had accompanied him, was not yet his consort, so she stood beside Roan's throne.
Several people murmured in apparent surprise at the sight. Erenier, the betrothed who had never once been permitted at the emperor's side at an official function, now stood beside him as a hero of war.
Sensing everyone's reaction, the Lord of the South Black Territory smiled faintly. A satisfied look.
The emperor's low voice resonated through the hall.
"I know these have been difficult years. Still, I am grateful to those of you who held your ground."
Everyone dressed in uniforms and gowns listened intently to the emperor's words.
"The new year will be different from this one."
Through "Appeal," the true intent within Roan's words was conveyed directly into the minds of all the assembled nobles.
"From those of you who stand high, to the common people on the very ground. All are those I must look after. I will not avert my eyes."
Therefore, my attention will be given equally. Whether to the high-standing you, or to the frail common people.
"I demand only one thing in return. Your submission."
So do not quibble with what I do.
"I shall be a merciful emperor and a master. I shall make you prosper. Therefore, obey. To those who are loyal, rewards commensurate with that loyalty will be given."
And those who dare to rebel will pay a price just as great.
"The new year shall be the beginning of this."
You didn't know?
The countdown starts now.
Keep your wits about you.
A silence wrapped around the banquet hall.
The direct experience of the emperor's will being transmitted in this manner was a first for them.
'...Has His Majesty acquired a new ability?'
A few nobles guessed correctly.
Watching them flounder in the face of an unfamiliar experience, Aranya smiled gently. It was rather enjoyable to see even the great territorial lords flustered by His Majesty's power.
Aranya's eyes met Roan's.
Roan's lips curved in a faint smile.
"Let the banquet begin."
Music started. The quiet banquet hall was suddenly brimming with conversation.
Erenier was overwhelmed with congratulations and greetings. A great wizard, the betrothed, and a symbol of victory.
She shone more brilliantly than any noblewoman in the hall tonight. She hadn't had much time to herself after storming out of the tearoom, yet she glistened with polish from head to toe.
Cups were exchanged, and there were those who danced.
One by one, the nobles approached Roan to pay their respects and offer words of praise.
Though this was his first occasion to meet directly and speak with the great nobles and territorial lords, Roan handled it without awkwardness.
He had been meeting the great nobles of the Small Council and the administrators for months. The Demon King's shell handled the aristocratic manner of speech on its own. As for the content, it was hardly more than small talk, pleasantries bordering on chitchat. Nothing difficult.
"Politics" and "Attentive Hearing" were also playing a large role. There was no better skill for understanding the nobles' characteristic way of talking in circles.
"Your Majesty."
"It is an honor to greet you after so long, Your Majesty."
After the Lord of the South Black Territory finished his greeting and withdrew, the Lord of the West Blood Territory and the Lord of the East Yellow Territory took his place.
A centaur with a body of purest black settled down, bending its forelegs as far as they would go. It was a gesture comparable to the humanoid Lord of the East Yellow Territory kneeling on one knee.
"Have you been in good health? I am merely mortified that I could not visit you."
"You were on the front lines, were you not? You have worked hard for this victory."
"...Thank you."
The Lord of the West Blood Territory closed his eyes, as if to conceal his emotion. The Lord of the East Yellow Territory, the Duke of the Desert Blade, then offered his greeting in turn.
"Your words are too gracious, Your Majesty. It seems that in the time since I last saw you, you have achieved new accomplishments."
As expected of the great territorial lords. They had apparently gauged the rise in his skill level just from briefly seeing him in the grand council chamber and the banquet hall.
All the while, for no short time, it had been worth enduring Fiora's daily abuse.
"Mm. Thank you."
"When might I request a sparring match?"
The Grand Duke of the Red Rampart immediately requested a sparring match.
The Lord of the East Yellow Territory stared at the Grand Duke with a flabbergasted look that seemed to say, 'What discourtesy is this?'
Centaurs were fundamentally enormous in stature. A horse's body, topped with a human torso. Their height alone rivaled Minoreus, and their length from front to back was equally tremendous. A mere kick from a hind leg would be fatal to an ordinary person.
A smile rose to Roan's face.
Roan occasionally trained with Helen. Sparring with others offered not only the weak but also the strong new things to contemplate and the opportunity to grow.
Crossing swords with a non-humanoid opponent promised to be a novel experience. Roan agreed readily.
"A fine idea."
"Many lords were astonished when Your Majesty concealed your presence,"
the Lord of the East Yellow Territory said in a cool voice.
but his words were respectful.
"I, too, was very surprised at how much you have trained. I know that controlling your power to that degree is by no means easy, Your Majesty."
"You overpraise me."
"So much so that some of the younger nobles have failed to recognize Your Majesty's achievement and are speaking foolishly. I believe that it would not be amiss for you to occasionally display your strength, as you did in the past."
Roan's eyebrow twitched.
"Foolishly?"
The Lord of the East Yellow Territory was chilling even as he smiled.
The great fangs glimpsed between his teeth belonged to a wolf, not a human.
"Rudely, they seem to believe that Your Majesty has lost your strength."
"Ho."
The Lord of the West Blood Territory let out a flabbergasted sigh tinged with laughter.
"They have eyes, but they are useless. They should be grateful merely to witness such a realm of mastery."
The Lord of the East Yellow Territory only smiled wordlessly.
He had seemed nothing but cold when seen through the magic orb, but unexpectedly, he was an easygoing man who laughed often.
Perhaps he, too, had been wary of the other great lords. That Duke of the East Yellow Territory was honest only before His Majesty.
"Thank you for the supply of wheat and winter goods. Thanks to that, getting through this winter has been easier than ever before."
The Duke of the Desert Blade, who had been bowing silently, raised his head.
The lycanthrope's amber eyes shone. The emotion within them was gratitude.
"Moreover, when the war ends by Your Majesty's command, I shall be able to return to my territory and look after all I have been unable to tend to. Truly, thank you, Your Majesty."
Only after hearing Duke Jeokgam did the Grand Duke of the Red Rampart seem to think of it himself, and he, too, expressed his thanks.
"I am also grateful for the wheat you sent to the cities. The feeling of watching one's domain's folk die in winter... even if it is said that it is natural for the weak to perish, it is not a good feeling."
His face that of a sturdy middle-aged man, he grinned.
"This year, none shall go hungry. The late Emperor would be pleased."
It was a gaze that recalled memories.
The West Blood Territory contained roughly two-thirds of the border with Merde.
Most of the West Blood Territory was now a war zone. The remaining southern part was the Dark Forest, a zone shared with the forest elves that could not be used, and the eastern part was the desert bordering the East Yellow Territory.
Only the northern part, near the North White Territory, could be farmed. And even that was the barren land of Evirgio. It did not produce enough grain to feed the entire domain.
Roan bit his lip.
He had managed this year, but somehow, he had to find the Crystal Mine.
Having observed Roan's expression, the Lord of the East Yellow Territory made a suggestion.
"Your Majesty, I fear I have spoken of too weighty a matter for a banquet. If it pleases you, might I also seek your instruction while I remain in the capital?"
"Hm? Not a problem."
"I shall show you my fierce desert blade."
The Lord of the East Yellow Territory smiled fiercely, and Roan smiled as well. It was then.
"Your Majesty, I shall ask for a bout as well!"
It was a cry that made the entire assembly turn.
A wild, unpolished presence surged forward on its heels.
Nobles who had not trained in the sword—wizards and administrators—each drew a breath or frowned, showing their discomfort.
"Such insolence!"
A voice filled with a fury that made the very air tremble.
Knight Commander Minoreus stepped in front of the emperor with a piercing glare. The sole person present, aside from the emperor, permitted to bear a sword.
The massive knight commander moved to draw his blade.
But the emperor's hand touched his right hand.
Startled, Minoreus looked back at Roan.
Roan shook his head and then opened his mouth. His voice was low and soft.
"Hm, you seek instruction, do you?"
The banquet was in full swing. It would have been normal for some to already be drunk.
The flushed-faced young noble who had shouted paid his respects with exaggerated formality. He was a massive ogre. Around him clustered a group of other young noblemen.
The youth was not weak.
He was probably someone known as a strongman among the young nobles. When a young man of middling skill drank, the things before his eyes could disappear.
Having understood this bravado, the emperor did not grow angry. In the past, the fool's head would have flown from his shoulders by now.
The lords and nobles who had come up to the capital from other lands and watched this scene let out exclamations of admiration.
The rumors were true.
His Majesty's hand had gained mercy.
But the young man's next words were provocative.
"I'll have to try you first to see if you are worthy of giving me instruction, Your Majesty."
The Lord of the West Blood Territory, who had been seated near Roan, rose, glaring. The Lord of the East Yellow Territory's eyes flared yellow. Bestial wrinkles creased the bridge of his nose.
Roan sighed lightly.
"Hm, so this is what you meant, Duke of the Desert Blade."
Roan smiled and rose from his throne.
Even in the midst of this, several noble married women and ladies here and there gasped in admiration at the emperor's smile.
"Very well. I shall make you understand. Bring a wooden sword."
"A contest must be settled with live steel! How will a wooden sword do?"
"...A contest, you say."
The murmuring of the nobles subsided.
This was no simple drunkard.
This was a challenge.
The banquet hall grew quiet, as if doused with cold water.