Chapter 106
Chapter 106
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 106
Chapter Title: Civil War in the Sail Kingdom (3)
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Sail Kingdom's princess, Irena.
In truth, Irena hadn't been a princess from the start. Far from royal blood, she'd lived a life no different from any commoner's.
Then, one day, her world turned upside down.
In an instant, she became part of the royal family—a princess.
The reason for this drastic change was largely due to the late king having no heir.
With no successor to inherit the throne, the royal house began scouring for those with royal blood.
Unable to find close direct descendants, they delved deep into the family records.
That was how Irena's father, Carandia, ended up in line for the throne.
But that was where the troubles began.
Unlike noble houses with established surnames from the outset, Carandia didn't even have a proper inherited name.
He was little more than a distant branch, his blood diluted far more by commoner lineage.
The fact that he received a royal surname solely because he was next in line for the throne was a thorn in the nobles' sides.
Those who prided themselves on their blue blood from birth refused to acknowledge Carandia as king.
—"For such a worthless man to sit on the throne of our kingdom? This is an insult to the realm itself!"
They even viewed the king as a disgrace to the nation.
That was when it started.
The word "rebellion" took root in the nobles' minds.
From then on, they clashed with King Carandia over even the pettiest matters.
These conflicts spilled beyond the king and nobles, reaching even young Princess Irena.
…
Irena, lost in old memories, opened her eyes.
"You must be tired."
A seductive voice came from beside her.
"Ah, Lady Celia. I was just reminiscing about the old days."
"The old days..."
Celia pondered for a moment before uttering a single word.
"Memories?"
To outsiders, it seemed like ordinary conversation.
But Irena's expression soured slightly at the word "memories."
She'd been an ordinary girl, thrust into princesshood overnight.
A child from what was essentially commoner stock had entered the palace, so there was much to learn.
Etiquette and poise were basics; she studied languages and literature, then dove straight into the kingdom's history and politics.
After lessons, she'd listen to music while learning to dance.
Playtime was a luxury she couldn't afford.
Thus, young Irena's days flew by in a relentless blur, without a moment's rest.
And though her father was king, the nobles despised him.
Their glares inevitably fell upon the princess as well.
The palace maids and her tutors were all tied to noble houses.
It went without saying that her life in the royal court would be anything but smooth.
'Memories?'
No, Irena refused to call those recollections "memories."
'Where did it all go wrong?'
Even as a child, Irena had pondered this question.
Simply because her father was a distant branch with heavy commoner blood?
It was partly true, of course.
Had he possessed legitimate claim, the conflicts might not have escalated this far.
But she believed the root issue lay elsewhere.
'It's all because we lack power.'
Even with legitimate blood, without power, nothing would change.
The same peril would loom when she ascended the throne.
Irena wanted to turn the tide.
For that, she needed power.
To gain it, she turned to forbidden tomes.
Demon summoning.
And that path had led her here.
"Well then, shall we begin?"
The voice beside Irena was as enchanting as ever. That viscous tone wrapped around her ears like silk, exuding sweetness.
Like the whisper of a demon.
'Well, technically, she is a demon.'
The horns atop Celia's head made it obvious.
Even joining hands with a demon had granted Irena power.
And this demon hadn't demanded her soul in return.
Her support within the kingdom remained meager, but that was no longer the issue.
She'd gained a force far greater than any noble backing.
'Yes.'
Saving the kingdom now had nothing to do with noble support.
Nor with her father.
Irena turned to gaze at Celia.
The hesitation in the princess's eyes was gone, replaced by venomous resolve.
"Lady Celia."
She declared it outright.
"I will seize the kingdom for myself."
"Heh, you know full well what that entails, don't you?"
Irena nodded faintly.
A king still reigned.
For the princess to claim the throne?
It was rebellion, plain and simple.
No different from the nobles' schemes, but she had justification.
"It doesn't matter. If things continue like this, it'll end the same anyway."
Celia smiled slyly at the princess's firm resolve.
Then she took Irena's hand.
Irena relaxed, entrusting herself to Celia.
Celia gently pulled the princess toward the chessboard, strewn haphazardly with pieces.
Irena's hand, guided by Celia, grasped one piece.
The white queen.
Still holding her hand, Celia moved it toward another piece.
"First, let's sever the nobles' limbs."
The first to fall to the queen was a pawn—of white, matching the queen.
"They must pay for encroaching on the Great One's domain."
Irena nodded at Celia's first command.
"To dare send adventurers into the domain of such a great being. Death a hundred times over wouldn't suffice."
A hint of anger laced Celia's voice.
"I'll prepare at once, Lady Celia."
Irena agreed with her actions.
The palace had forbidden entry to the Silent Mountains.
Yet Henrik had defied that order, even hiring adventurers in secret to venture there.
Most who ascended the peaks met their ends.
The few survivors became playthings for the goblins.
The adventurers had paid in their own ways.
But that didn't absolve Henrik.
First offense: Sending intruders into the Great One's domain.
Second: Defying the royal decree.
Thus, Celia had chosen him for the first reckoning.
Irena concurred.
Henrik, longtime head butler of the Beerton Count's household, was a loyal retainer with vast knowledge of the family.
And the Beerton Count he served led the noble faction.
To Irena, the nobles were thorns to be uprooted.
Shaking House Beerton first was no loss—it was a massive gain.
"No. Since we're at it, I'll handle him personally. Princess Irena, prepare the next phase."
"Understood, Lady Celia."
Now, she could forget about Head Butler Henrik.
He'd suffer far more than if she'd intervened herself.
Celia moved Irena's hand once more.
The queen, having felled the pawn, advanced again.
"Nobles who betray once have no place."
The queen toppled knight, rook, and bishop in turn.
All white pieces, like herself.
"The nobles' downfall."
Irena murmured softly.
Hadn't she followed Celia's orders faithfully, awaiting this very ruin?
It was only a matter of time.
"And finally—"
Only one white piece remained on the board.
This time, Celia released her grip.
But Irena applied force.
Her actions were decisive now that the target was clear.
Not guided by Celia, but by her own hand—she toppled the king.
"Now, let us spread His will across the world."
The sweet whisper of the demon echoed.
* * *
The Beerton Count's mansion buzzed with frantic activity.
Passing the gardeners tending the grounds and entering the manor, the patter of servants' footsteps echoed first.
In the blazing kitchen, cooks prepared delectable dishes, filling the air with savory aromas.
It seemed chaotic, each person in their own frenzy, but closer inspection revealed meticulous timing in every task.
Clap—
Amid the bustle, someone clapped sharply.
Head Butler Henrik.
"Widen the spacing on those tables!"
"This is an affair tied to the Count's honor—no mistakes will be tolerated! Move it!"
His hair and face, etched with wrinkles from years past, were framed by white strands, yet his voice rang with vigor.
His left eye, scarred and blind, and hands covered in scars great and small posed no hindrance to issuing commands.
If anything, there was so much to do that even he had to pitch in.
A banquet had been abruptly scheduled for tomorrow at the mansion.
To prepare, they needed not just the day, but the night as well.
Thus, Henrik directed preparations relentlessly.
As he hurried about, someone approached.
"Hm?"
It was a maid.
A face he'd never seen before.
'Was there someone I didn't know?'
Henrik knew every soul in the mansion.
Yet he didn't suspect much.
'Am I getting old?'
Or perhaps one of the new hires from days ago.
His thoughts were brief.
The banquet took precedence.
"What is it?"
Henrik lowered his voice to ask the maid.
She smiled faintly and spoke.
"The Count is summoning you, Head Butler Henrik."
"Hm."
Now that he noticed, her speech and demeanor were amateurish.
'One of the recent hires. I'll have to order retraining.'
Still, her appearance was striking.
No, beyond merely beautiful.
She might rise above maid duties.
"I'll head to His Lordship at once."
Henrik turned promptly.
As he stepped forward, he paused and looked back.
"Right, what's your name?"
New maid or not, he'd memorize names and faces eventually.
"I am ■■■."
"I see."
Hearing her reply, Henrik strode off.
Keeping the Count waiting would be rude, so he quickened his pace.
Even as he walked, his mind churned with mansion affairs.
How to finalize tomorrow's banquet, and that brief exchange with the maid.
'No family name in her name, for sure.'
Just a plain commoner, probably.
Of course—if noble blood flowed in her, she wouldn't have started as a maid.
Still, Henrik rated her beauty top-tier.
Someone in the household might fall hard for her.
The eldest young master came to mind.
The Count's heir, notorious for women and gambling.
'Women have always been trouble.'
Well, becoming the young master's plaything wouldn't be bad for a maid.
The weak submit to the strong—that was life.
Henrik shook off stray thoughts and knocked on the Count's study door.
"Hm?"
No response from within.
He knocked again—same result.
"May I enter?"
Still silence.
'What's this?'
Henrik slowly opened the door.
Stepped inside.
Suddenly, he recalled the Count's earlier words.
—"I'll return tomorrow with the Church delegation, so ensure the party preparations are flawless by then."
Yes, the Count had said that before departing.
He wasn't in the mansion now.
So why had that maid said such a thing?
Had he returned already?
Henrik shook his head.
'No, impossible.'
He'd know if the Count had come back.
'I'll reprimand that maid later. Her name was...'
But her name escaped him.
At that thought, Henrik slowly raised his head.
…Eh?
No sign of Count Beerton inside.
Instead, armored knights filled the room.
"What insolence is this—!"
Knight in the Count's study without permission?
This was a challenge to His Lordship.
Henrik scanned the knights.
Full plate armor hid bodies and faces beneath helmets—identities unknown.
Fury rising, he approached one.
"Remove your arms at once!"
He yanked off a helmet.
…!
Clack?
A monster revealed within.
"S-Skeleton?!"
"Clack clack!"
Why was a monster clad in knight's armor?
Henrik glanced around.
Clack! Clack! Clack!
Not just one.
All of them—monsters masquerading as knights.
"N-No way!"
Monsters in the mansion couldn't leak out.
Especially with the Count away with the White Church delegation.
'I must summon the guards!'
Alert everyone to the intrusion.
Henrik whirled toward the door—but there stood the maid from before.
She smiled innocently, but changed.
Horns atop her head proclaimed her no ordinary human.
"You wench...!"
His words cut short.
A skeleton "knight" slashed his throat.
Consciousness faded.
………
……
…
It didn't take long for Henrik to regain awareness.
The problem: He awoke not in the opulent mansion, but some unknown place.
Like a cave.
One might panic, but Henrik bellowed instead.
"Do you know who I am? How dare you pull this nonsense!"
Plain kidnapping.
Of the head butler serving House Beerton.
In Sail Kingdom, Count Beerton's stature was immense.
Leader of the noble faction.
A group as powerful as the king himself.
Kidnapping him was tantamount to defying the Count.
Knowing this, Henrik roared louder.
"I'll overlook this blunder! End this farce now!"
His voice echoed unanswered.
He shouted endlessly, to no avail.
Finally, catching his breath, he cleared his throat.
In the ensuing quiet, a figure approached from afar.
"Enough of this joke—"
But seeing it, his mouth snapped shut.
….
The approaching being wasn't human.
A massive monster with two heads.
Tall as three grown men stacked.
"O-Ogre...?"
Longtime butler to the Count, Henrik knew monsters somewhat.
Ogres were 3-star beasts, manageable by seasoned adventurers.
But two heads? First he'd seen.
Behind the ogre trailed the former maid.
Now in an elegant red dress, not servant garb.
"To dare send adventurers into the Great One's domain. Are you prepared to pay?"
Adventurers?
What nonsense was this?
Henrik racked his brain.
Seconds passed.
Then it hit him.
"Ah."
The secret expedition to the mountains?
But that was just sending them there.
Defying the palace, yes—but unrelated to monsters.
His puzzled look prompted the woman to step back.
"This ogre is a monster brought by the Great One I revere."
Auctioned from the Demon Realm Merchant Guild.
"Mr. Ogre, begin."
The maid—no, Celia—issued the order and vanished.
The ogre lumbered forward.
"What to do, Left."
The right head, "Right," addressed the left head, "Left."
"The overseer said torment the human. We follow the overseer. Right."
Left replied to Right's query.
Their main difference: Left was one-eyed.
Henrik, amid the absurdity, thought furiously.
Monsters meant a dungeon.
His reasoning went further.
Especially about the ogre.
One body, two heads.
Low intelligence kept it from being a major threat, he'd heard.
That was with armed guards—different now.
"Left, torment human. How?"
"Easy. Right. Overseer gave us authority. Torture?"
"Ooh, right. Left."
"Yes. Right."
One body, two noisy faces—Henrik's head spun.
He barely grasped the situation or his role in it, so he stayed silent.
"Right."
"What, Left."
Now Left spoke first.
"Remember, Right. When we fell in water."
"Left, that was awful. Hate it."
"Water's perfect. Right."
Another entity emerged behind the ogre.
"Water...?"
A large, blue-glowing blob approached with sloshing steps.
Undoubtedly a water elemental.
Why was even that here?
Henrik just blinked.
"Right. Overseer told Left. Can use water."
"Ooh, Left, you're smart!"
Right and Left dunked Henrik's head into the water elemental.