Chapter 84 — The Road to the West (1)
Chapter 84 — The Road to the West (1)
A week of the New Year Festival.
Though I had spent the night vigorously having sex with Erenier, that wasn't all I did.
During the New Year Festival, there was a council on ending the war.
It was almost too one-sided to call a council. Roan's decisions were the main focus.
But even if it was a formality, the lords also had a chance to convey their opinions to Roan.
As Roan had expected, the Lord of the South Black Territory, his clan, and some of the other lords expressed skepticism about ending the war.
Their reasoning was that since the current momentum wasn't bad, advancing like this—or perhaps in the spring—might allow them to capture part of Merde, and even further, the capital city of Spros.
It wasn't simply a desire for plunder. For the demonkind to topple Spros, the largest city in Merde—the greatest of the human nations—would bring several advantages.
The greatest advantage was, as ever, hindering any future human coalition and allowing the demonkind to seize the fertile lands.
Unless the fundamental problem of conflict between demonkind and humans was resolved, war could break out again at any time.
However, Roan, both firmly and tactfully, argued for ending the war with a variety of reasons.
The most decisive reason was, indeed,
—You are lords. Even if you leave your seats, your families will not collapse, and your survival will not become urgent. But it is different for your soldiers.
It was because Roan's conviction regarding his people was firm. There was no lord who could refute this statement.
For no one had ever thought as deeply about a soldier's family, life, or future as Roan had, nor had they ever shown it.
Thus, Roan's act of holding a meeting during the holiday period—the epitome of a nightmare boss, and a meeting where the answer was already decided no less—achieved its intended purpose.
And during the New Year Festival, there was one more task that Roan carried out without missing a single day.
"Your Majesty. Thank you again today."
A man with a cool expression gave the salute that signaled the end of their sparring match.
The Blade of the Desert.
The sharp blade of the sandy plains.
The man with the dry tone that carried the scent of the desert, just like his epithet, was the lord who ruled the East Yellow Territory.
"Mm."
Roan sheathed Fiora and wiped off his sweat.
Sparring with him was not easy.
A powerhouse incomparable to Helen.
The curved blade that flew in with flexibility was as fast as the wind.
Even if one dodged the blade aiming for the neck, the duke's dance-like footwork would persistently follow.
The buckler on his wrist, used to deflect the two-handed greatsword Fiora when swung with force, was also a nuisance. If Roan tried to crush the shield at the wrist by channeling sword energy, the duke would twist his body and send a blade flying from another direction.
The desert tribes do not fear battle.
Limited resources had made them warlike, and the one strong enough to protect his family and his people amidst that was the Lord of the East Yellow Territory.
Though he couldn't beat Roan in sheer strength, the sparring matches based on his experience were good lessons even for Roan.
"I am sorry to have finished our sparring so hastily. However, I wish to hasten the armistice agreement."
"What are you saying? I am honored simply that Your Majesty spares his valuable time. Though it is still a holiday, you are troubling the small council, Your Majesty."
The Lord of the East Yellow Territory shrugged and laughed.
After they had crossed swords a few times, their intimacy had shot up dramatically. Even in a training ground filled only with the sound of breathing and no conversation, there existed a kind of bond one could only feel in such a place.
The impression Roan had gotten from observing the lords' meeting was quite accurate.
Despite his position as a great lord, he was not arrogant, and his thinking was deep enough to understand and consider the circumstances of the Lord of the West Blood Territory or the Lord of the North White Territory.
"Now that I think of it, Your Majesty. The Grand Duke of the West Blood Territory had been bristling for a rematch."
"...Mm."
The Lord of the West Blood Territory, who had valiantly requested a sparring match on the day of the banquet, was sent flying the next day by Fiora's sword energy.
The Lord of the West Blood Territory is a centaur. For a demonkind of that size to be blown away because he couldn't fully absorb the force was, in truth, a once-in-a-lifetime experience for him.
—Not even in my childhood, not even from my father, have I ever been struck like this! Astonishing, Your Majesty!
The Lord of the West Blood Territory, who had barely gotten to his feet by flailing his four legs, said that with a dazed face.
His childhood, huh. He must have been a foal.
Four legs are easier to balance on than two. With a horse's body, he's much heavier, too. He probably almost never fell over.
Rumor had it that after experiencing this novel defeat, the Lord of the West Blood Territory had holed himself up in the training grounds for days, refusing to come out.
"Regardless, since you speak of a truce, I dare not take up any more of Your Majesty's time."
The Lord of the East Yellow Territory, who bowed deeply, grinned. A wolf's fang was briefly revealed.
"Had I known Your Majesty's intentions earlier, unwise as I am, I would have considered what help I might offer. I am sorry."
The Lord of the East Yellow Territory was a great lord who lost his reason and transformed into a lycanthrope when the full moon rose. Even in his humanoid form, there were glimpses of the wolf here and there.
Like those bright yellow eyes that kept a violent energy in them even now.
"It is fine. Have you not said you will pay more attention to the goods being sent to Arteala? Even if it is not now, I will have more to discuss with you."
"I shall gladly await your orders. Your Majesty."
As the Lord of the East Yellow Territory followed the emperor out of the training grounds, wiping his sweat with a towel, he asked:
"There is one thing I wished to ask you on a personal level. Your Majesty."
"Granted."
"Why do you suddenly wish to stop the war?"
"Hm?"
The emperor's footsteps halted.
The emperor's policy regarding ending, or rather, suspending the war had already been decided. The official reason had also been proclaimed. Yet it seemed the Duke of the Desert Blade believed there was another reason. Roan smiled and asked:
"Do you feel regret?"
"No, Your Majesty. I am more eager to return to the East Yellow Territory as soon as possible. I was truly glad to hear you say you would seek a truce."
"Then why is it that you, of all people, welcome the truce? I have heard that the lords have much to gain from war."
Roan answered the question with a question, but no one was bold enough to tell the emperor, 'You answer first.' Even in this uneven conversation, the Lord of the East Yellow Territory simply smiled and answered.
"When I go out to the battlefield, the foolish chieftains of the East Yellow Territory start fighting each other again. Even if I go back during the New Year Festival and bark at them, it doesn't last a few months. Only if I return to the East Yellow Territory and scold them can I ensure the glass to be sent to Arteala is produced on time."
Roan closed his mouth. He knew now, because he had studied.
Why the tribes of the East Yellow Territory fought each other.
Because most of the East Yellow Territory was desert.
A place where crops did not grow.
Seeing Roan's face subtly darken, the Lord of the East Yellow Territory shook his head.
"Your Majesty shows such an expression. I believe this year will pass quietly, nonetheless. The grain Your Majesty sent was sufficient. It is a great grace. Your Majesty."
Even though he was one who ruled the emperor's people in his stead, it seemed that the Lord of the East Yellow Territory thought of his territory's residents as being under his own responsibility.
A man with a strong sense of responsibility.
Roan found that he liked the Lord of the East Yellow Territory more and more.
"Perhaps my reason is similar to yours."
The pupils at the center of the Duke of the Desert Blade's yellow eyes dilated. He was focusing on Roan's words.
"I do not wish to see the people suffer any longer. I know that we have no choice but to bring in supplies from Merde.... But Merde is also growing worse by the day. I believe war is not a wise method to solve anyone's problems."
If he wanted to stop being the enemy of humanity, it was even less of a wise method.
"...You speak truly."
"If possible, it would be good if we could buy grain from a place like Arteala this year... no, like last year.... But ultimately, would it not be the best method to grow crops domestically? To do farming, we must bring back the labor force that has gone to war."
"But, Your Majesty..."
The duke, who had been about to object, closed his mouth with a bitter expression.
Evirgio was barren.
What the Duke of the Desert Blade had been about to say was likely that.
But even Roan couldn't show a dark expression. He was the emperor, after all.
He decided to trust his own knowledge and experience.
Crystal ore would surely be a crucial variable.
'Will' was contained within 'Appeal' and resonated not only within Roan but within the inner self of the Lord of the East Yellow Territory as well.
"It will be all right."
The duke's eyes widened.
The pitch-black pupils that had looked like dots in his amber eyes dilated, just like a beast's.
And then soon shrank again.
The duke had regained his reason.
"...Thank you. Your Majesty."
The Duke of the Desert Blade suddenly expressed thanks.
"It is... a comfort to this unwise servant."
"I am glad to hear it."
Roan, who had been nodding silently, added one remark.
"I had thought that if I lived as I used to, the humans might eventually come to kill me."
"...Pardon?"
The Lord of the East Yellow Territory, who had retorted with an unprecedentedly blank face, burst out laughing.
"Hahahahat, my apologies, Your Majesty! Hahaha, what are you saying? The humans, you say?"
"Did you not also see it? To us, they appear insignificant, but we cannot ignore the power of their numbers."
"Hahaha, Your Majesty, it is not that."
And then, having stopped laughing, the Lord of the East Yellow Territory looked at Roan with terrifying eyes.
"Would it even have gone so far as to involve the humans? Had the war dragged on longer, it might have been the grand dukes or myself who came to kill Your Majesty."
The sincerity conveyed by 'Attentive Hearing'.
Yet Roan laughed incredulously.
No, originally, the Hero was one step faster.
"Humans are more tenacious than you think."
For real.
They could've invaded up to here, swept away the small council, and killed me.
But the Duke of the Desert Blade took the emperor's words as nothing more than a considerate joke meant to lighten his own mood.
"Thank you for forgiving my rudeness. Your Majesty. Had the Grand Duke heard this story, he would have been delighted."
"The Grand Duke? Do you mean the Red Rampart Grand Duke?"
"Yes. It is a story he repeats dozens of times whenever he drinks... ."
A smile remained on the duke's face.
"I have heard that the Former Emperor also struggled to grow crops in Evirgio."
"The Former Emperor did?"
The Demon King's family relations did not appear in the game. It was also laughable to ask others about his own family history. In the end, he had no choice but to infer about the former Demon King—the 'Former Emperor'—based on written historical records and some recovered memories of the (former) Demon King.
Seeing that both the Lord of the West Blood Territory and Aranya sometimes spoke of the Former Emperor and grew wistful, he could only guess that the former emperor had been someone remarkable.
But he had tried to grow crops?
Seeing Roan's face lost in thought, the duke spoke calmly.
"I hear it was a story he told only to a few close lords. For a plan to grow crops in Evirgio could not easily be made."
If a proclaimed cultivation plan went awry, the Demon King's prestige would be damaged. He probably would have tried to test it in a few close territories first.
If he asked Aranya or the Red Rampart Grand Duke about the previous king later, he might be able to reference that old plan.
Even if it was a failed plan.
"I will have to ask the Grand Duke sometime."
At that, the Lord of the East Yellow Territory waved his hands in refusal.
"...If you do so, please leave me out of that occasion. Your Majesty. I am sick of it."
"Hm?"
"The Grand Duke drinks like a horse. If he is your drinking companion, the session becomes immensely long."
...Is it because he's a horse?
...No. Let's not make this joke.
Roan restrained himself.
"What's more, once he gets drunk, he goes on repeating old stories. Primarily stories he experienced while traveling with His Majesty, the Former Emperor."
It seemed the Lord of the East Yellow Territory had mainly been in charge of being the Lord of the West Blood Territory's drinking buddy on the front lines.
"Take some time and have a drink together later. If Your Majesty is interested in the late Emperor, the Grand Duke would be most pleased."
And then the Lord of the East Yellow Territory stopped walking.
The inner castle was ahead.
Officials and servants were busily coming and going.
"Then, Your Majesty. I shall take my leave here."
The Lord of the East Yellow Territory, who had bowed politely, smiled.
"When I first heard the Grand Duke's talk of cultivated land, I was so dumbfounded that I only laughed, but when I listen to Your Majesty's words... I somehow feel that it might be possible."
With these final words, the Lord of the East Yellow Territory strolled away.
Was it because he, too, had something to protect that his presence and speech always seemed to be on edge? But now that an emperor who could share that burden had appeared, his retreating figure looked more lighthearted than ever before.
'If he talks like that, I have to make it happen. Let's head out to search for a waypoint soon.'
He had already conveyed his intention to revive the armistice proposal that had become nominal in Merde.
The small council was so busy adjusting the terms of the truce that their minds were rattled. The new year in Evirgio would flow in a different direction from before.
If only he could locate the crystal mine based on the waypoint ruins, that speed would increase even further. Though they might be small steps, they would become a cornerstone for the demonkind to cease their invasion of Merde, and for the Demon King to distance himself from being humanity's archenemy.
Roan gazed for a long while at the back of the great lord who trusted him, whom he had to lead.
It was now time to head outside the castle.