Chapter 66
Chapter 66
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 66
Chapter Title: Reform and Retribution
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The unprecedented incident where the father, who was both the governor of Paloma and a direct descendant of the ducal family, had his head severed had occurred, but the situation calmed down as if by magic.
The dead could not speak.
Gede and Hozart père had shouldered all the blame. And truthfully, that was just.
But those who had followed and sided with Gede could not escape their own guilt simply by claiming ignorance.
Thus, Gede's followers kept their mouths shut, half by choice and half by force.
They were embodying the proverb that silence would get them through the middle.
Moreover, Gede's plot had been so outrageous and unfilial, but Blint and his mother Katrina's sins were no light matter either.
Therefore, even Sionia and the high nobles of Three-Headed Eagle Castle, who appeared to be the victors(?), could not treat Gede's followers roughly or strut about arrogantly.
"But didn't we win? Shouldn't we crush those Paloma traitors who just catch and sell fish, and press them down while we have the chance?"
The spirited knights and young nobles who clamored like that were swiftly suppressed at light speed by the high nobles of Three-Headed Eagle Castle, who were guaranteed to be connected to every other household.
Having confirmed the true existence of the Alpha and Omega of the Dukedom, the high nobles had no intention of watching the young pups run wild.
- He is watching over you.
A phrase that appeared in every religion, but none had ever proven their god truly existed.
But the high nobles of Three-Headed Eagle Castle had personally witnessed and experienced that the progenitor of the Dukedom, a figure no different from a god, truly existed and had demonstrated divine power akin to an oracle upon them.
Becoming fanatics of Sion was only natural.
Moreover, like any other god, their divine lord was resolute and cruel, but at the same time broad-minded and infinitely merciful.
Thud.
"What is this?"
Hander Yonas and the ministers gathered in the grand conference hall politely inquired as Sion tossed down a bundle of paper tightly wrapped in silk thread.
Even setting aside their reverence for Sion's very existence, the fist-shaped crater he had created just days ago on the table made reverence inevitable.
"You said you haven't properly collected taxes for nearly a year? Couldn't even draft a budget?"
"We beg your forgiveness."
"Never mind. Anyway, take a look. It should put out the urgent fires."
The aged ministers, plump with years, huddled together cautiously untying the thread and examining the papers one by one.
"Th-this!"
"Bills of exchange from the Orlanda Merchant Guild? For ten million diens!?"
"Checks from Brelian Bank—one, two, three... Fifteen million diens!?"
"This is more than enough... No, it's not just for urgent fires!"
Having confirmed a portion of Sion's wealth that he had tossed their way, the ministers transformed like starved men receiving a surprise delivery of a hearty blood sausage soup or a jjajangmyeon-tangsuyuk combo from a friend.
One day of hunger wouldn't kill you, but at that moment when "I'm starving to death!" inevitably slips out nine times out of ten, a being akin to their lifelong object of faith had not only boiled instant ramen but personally bestowed the ultimate soul food.
"Ugh! Duke Your Highness!"
"How can we ever repay this grace..."
"Sob..."
Sion, unable to hide his burdened expression amid the tearful outpouring from the white-haired, seasoned ministers, spoke up.
"It's not just a gift. I've already earmarked about half for specific uses, so no backtalk—do exactly as I say."
"Understood."
"Build an orphanage-cum-school in the northern town of the Dukedom and gather the town's children along with orphans from nearby villages."
"...Pardon?"
One minister who reflexively questioned realized his mistake and frantically waved his hands.
"Ah! N-no, Your Highness, I'm not opposing your command or anything! I was just purely curious... This foolish one cannot fathom Your Highness's profound intent, so I dared to ask. Yes!"
"You all know the administration of the Dukedom fell into holes during the time when no duke was set. You wouldn't know since you're holed up in Sionia, but it's one step away from total chaos."
"......"
The ministers, with no words even if they had ten mouths, bowed their heads.
"Even if administrative power returns to normal right now, it's too late to change the reality for some of the subjects who've already crumbled. Especially for the children, who are the Dukedom's future. So, in a town overseeing three or four villages administratively, build a nursery to care for children under twelve. Provide basic reading and writing education too."
"Such profound intent!"
"The children are indeed the Dukedom's future. Wise words, Your Highness."
"More importantly."
Cutting off the fervent flattery and sycophancy, Sion continued.
"Sionia might not care, but the subjects in smaller villages below the town level think it doesn't matter who becomes duke. Why? Survival is their priority."
"......"
The ministers' heads drooped even lower.
"You need to let the residents know the chaos within the Dukedom is over. Give them a clear signal that you Handers and ministers can lead them well. Starting with the children is the first step."
"Yes!"
"Draft plans immediately and implement them as soon as possible. And contact the direct lines in Frand and Rozin. Tell them what happened and how it was resolved. They stayed neutral until now, but it's time to unite under the Three-Headed Eagle banner again."
"As Your Highness wills!"
The ministers replied in unison.
In Sion's view, they might not be exceptional, but they were quite competent.
Moreover, their loyalty to the ducal family was high enough to receive clan member re-registration messages.
With proper leadership, they would fully demonstrate their abilities.
"Hander, see me separately."
"Yes."
* * *
Yonas, who had become the Dukedom's second-in-command overnight, approached Sion stiffly.
"Be at ease when it's just us."
"This unworthy descendant dares not..."
"Tch!"
"Understood, Grandfather."
Sion spoke a shade gentler to the sheepish Yonas than before.
"Is the work manageable?"
"I'm not sure yet. I don't doubt Grandfather's decision, but this foolish one, who mainly swung a sword and handled only menial admin at best, worries if he can manage."
He said cautiously, but it meant he didn't understand why he had been made the prime minister equivalent, Hander.
Sion patted Yonas's shoulder.
"A position shapes the man. Besides, what the Dukedom needs now isn't a leader with outstanding talent or charisma. Of course, that doesn't mean you lack ability."
"Yes, I'll continue listening."
"The leader the Dukedom needs now—the Hander—is someone neither Sionia nor Paloma sides love, but at least don't hate, won't greatly dislike, and can acknowledge."
"I see."
Yonas acknowledged this himself.
Not only Paloma's knights but even the nearby knightly clans held no major grudges against him.
Moreover, Sionia's nobles and officials highly regarded Yonas for seeing through Gede's outrage despite being his close aide and turning to the Sion ducal family itself.
Currently, Yonas was the sole 'Sion' acknowledged by both sides.
"Yonas, you cherish and love Sirban, don't you?"
"Yes! Of course."
Though the brat didn't listen well and acted cocky, Yonas had doted on Sirban since childhood.
"Your job is to hold out until Sirban is ready. Surely you can manage that much?"
"I'll do my utmost."
"Utmust won't cut it. Shortest two years? At longest five, big trouble brews. Cataclysm? Yes, let's call it the era of great cataclysm opening. Not just our Dukedom, but the entire world."
"You mean the Divine Words."
"Yes."
Sion didn't think only he and the Dukedom's people saw the 'messages' sent by some god or system entity.
Several North Mountain Elves, including Priel, had seen level messages before his arrival.
That meant a tiny handful of special figures in Obla Kingdom—no, this world—saw the messages too.
"You can't read the Divine Words yet, so you don't know what they mean. But forever?"
"No."
"Right. Perhaps shrewd kings or lords have already begun research. You're leading the Dukedom in such times."
"Isn't Grandfather here? This fool will merely follow the path Grandfather leads."
"You rascal. Now you expect me to personally run the entire Dukedom? I show the main road. You and the ministers plan and execute the details."
"But Grandfather..."
"Besides, I have many things to handle separately."
"Pardon? Separately?"
Hearing this for the first time, Yonas's eyes widened.
Sion walked to the conference hall window, opened it, then gazed northwest out the window to avoid the hot sunlight.
"I probably can't do it long, but for the time being, I need to cause incidents where no one knows who did what often."
"That means..."
Even in tension, Yonas's voice held a strange fervor, and Sion twisted his lips.
"Yes. First, Count Pamell. This old man will go ahead and set the stage, so when I signal, bring the kids and clean up yourself."
"I shall do so without fail."
Though guilty of treason and filial impiety, Gede had been Yonas's half-brother until the truth came out.
Thus, Yonas had no intention of forgiving Count Pamell, who had incited Gede and even sent hundreds of mercenaries to topple the ducal family and Dukedom.
With Gede dead, Count Pamell must pay the same price.
'That's... justice.'
The Hander of Sion Dukedom ground his teeth, glaring at the northwestern sky with burning eyes.
* * *
"Still no news?"
Count Pamell asked, unable to hide his fatigue.
The retainers of the count's family, gathered in the office with uniformly dark faces, exchanged glances, until the most junior could no longer withstand the glares and stepped forward.
"Yes. No word yet from Sir Sanders or the mercenaries, and no unusual movements detected from Sion Dukedom."
"Detected? Does that mean someone went in and saw directly? Or just assumed?"
"F-Forgive me."
Naturally the latter, the retainer bowed, sweating profusely.
From some time ago, people entered Sion Dukedom, but none came out.
With no knowledge that the Dukedom's three elf tribes, led by North Mountain Elves, had joined forces to block the paths through the silent forest, they had no way to learn internal affairs.
"How long since Sir Sanders entered the forest?"
"Sixteen days since leaving the castle, over fourteen since entering the forest."
After much searching over years, they had hired even wandering elves at great expense to traverse the infamous forest.
They were confident it would take four or five days at quickest, a week at latest, but still no contact.
This could only mean one thing.
All those mercenaries had been utterly annihilated.
"Does that make any sense!"
Bang!
Count Pamell slammed the desk.
It wasn't said to the retainers. It was a denial of the suspicion creeping unbidden into his own mind.
Count Pamell had no inkling that his very suspicion had come true.
Nor did he dream that the undying old monster who perpetrated that impossible feat would soon come for him.
(To be continued in the next chapter)