Chapter 69
Chapter 69
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 69
Chapter Title: Sprouting the Seeds of Rebellion.
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It was a pitch-dark underground prison. I walked down a long corridor where water droplets fell drip by drip until I reached an iron door.
As I approached, the warriors guarding the door snapped to a salute.
"Master, you're out?"
"Yeah. Good work. Nothing happen while I was gone?"
"No, sir."
I spoke to them in a very quiet whisper.
"Listen, I'd appreciate it if you could clear out for a bit. I've got some urgent business with the prisoner locked up in here."
"Understood."
The warriors gladly stepped aside at my command. Sure, there'd been a strict order not to leave their post, but the one who'd issued it was none other than me.
Once they'd moved off, I unlocked the iron door and stepped inside.
"White Mask!"
Inside was a blond middle-aged man bound head to toe in layers of thick rope. He thrashed wildly at the sight of me, but soon realized resistance was futile and settled for glaring daggers instead. I walked over slowly and took a seat on the wooden chair beside him.
"Who would've thought the mighty Count Malthus would end up in such a pitiful state."
His ears were free enough to hear, and sure enough, Count Malthus bellowed in fury.
"You bastard!"
"Not mocking you. You've always had a spotless reputation for integrity and uprightness. It's just tragic seeing a man like you brought so low by base betrayal."
And Count Malthus was the type obsessed with success to the point of mania. That reputation for integrity stemmed from it. On top of that, he tolerated no mistakes—especially not his own.
Which was exactly why I'd singled him out.
Right now, the count had lost everything with the fall of Polkin Pass. His success, his very worldview—gone.
Count Malthus's eyes twitched.
"B-base betrayal...?"
"Yeah. You didn't slip up anywhere. Honestly, there's no way Polkin Pass falls to 4,000 Kara troops, right? Not unless someone betrayed us and opened the gates."
"Who was the traitor?!"
I pretended to mull it over, then shook my head.
"What's the point of a man on death row knowing that? Just go peacefully."
"What? Death row? White Mask! Don't you know the unwritten rule of the continent is to ransom captured nobles, not execute them?"
"I do."
"And you're still going to kill me?"
"Yeah. We're in no position to do otherwise."
"You scum! His Majesty the King will never forgive you!"
I stared at the count for a long moment, then let out a deep sigh.
"His Majesty King Lorbros himself commanded us Kara to execute you as a rebel. Honestly, I don't want to kill you. What grudge do I have against you to go out of my way?"
Count Malthus roared.
"White Mask, don't toy with me! You think I'll fall for that silver tongue? Why would His Majesty brand me a traitor, and why would you—our enemies—obey his orders?!"
"Why obey? Our interests align. We Kara want to build a kingdom. King Lorbros hates Duke Bastain's guts. So if we kill the duke for rebelling against Lorbros, the king permits and supports our kingdom. Simple as that."
It rang true enough that the color slowly drained from the count's face. Everyone knew King Lorbros despised Duke Bastain.
"Fine. Then why kill me? I have nothing to do with Duke Bastain."
"Oh, but you do. For the duke to launch a rebellion, he has to take this impregnable fortress of Polkin Pass. Story doesn't work without a traitor inside, so you have to be one."
"N-no... it can't be..."
I showed the count the execution list bearing the king's royal seal.
"Anyway, the order's come down. You'll be executed at dawn tomorrow. Sorry. Can't be helped for the sake of us Kara."
"Ugh..."
Count Malthus trembled with rage. His own king was trying to kill him for no reason. Any man would boil over.
"Well, make the most of your last day reflecting on your life. No regrets."
As I turned to leave, the count threw one final question my way.
"One thing before you go?"
"Shoot."
"That traitor you mentioned... was it our king?"
I let out a wry sigh.
"You really have to know?"
"Yes."
"Eh, no reason to hide it from a dead man tomorrow. Yeah. Your king. He even told us how to take Polkin Pass."
"What?!"
"When we seized this place, I slipped in through a secret path inside the pass. How would an outsider like me know it? Someone who knew it inside out had to tip us off—like the former owner who'd held it for years."
"Wh-why would the king do that?!"
"Beats me. But I have a hunch. After Marquis Fabius's expeditionary force lost to us Kara, King Lorbros was in a real bind. He was the one who ordered the duke to send that army, right?"
"Yes."
"Weakened royal authority was inevitable, but now the king's a hero. He turned your defeat into a victory by diplomatically making us Kara a vassal state. Gotta be that. Politicians are clever like that. How do you spin the guy responsible for defeat into the victory hero? Makes no sense once you think about it."
I tilted my head and left the cell. Moments later, a scream like a banshee's wail erupted from behind the closing iron door.
"You doddering old fool! I'll haunt you as a ghost and drag you to hell!"
Hook, line, and sinker. Worth keeping Count Malthus alive after all. A careerist has no loyalty. For them, the only object of devotion is the seat of power above.
Now, the count would eagerly play the arsonist at my slightest beckoning.
I stood before the communication orb at the magic comms station. The crystal projected Marquis Fabius, his face grave as he sat in heavy silence for a long stretch.
Finally, the marquis forced his mouth open.
"The entire command staff gets executed for treason?"
"Yeah. But don't worry too much. I talked them into sparing Gramps at least. Lorbros side seemed to want him alive anyway."
"Really? What about my men?"
"Couldn't save them. They were adamant."
Marquis Fabius cracked a faint smile.
"Heh, White Mask. You think I'd look like the type to let all my men die and live it up alone?"
No. That's why Count Boris had readily agreed to spare the marquis at least. Marquis Fabius wasn't the sort to abandon his subordinates and save his own skin.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have shouldered every dirty job in past wars, or led from the front in dangerous battles despite being expeditionary commander.
"Still better to survive, no?"
"No. You meddled where you shouldn't."
"So what'll you do?"
"Release me. I'll go to the kingdom myself and clear things up. The king will reconsider if it's me speaking."
I tapped the table with my index finger.
"Just shut up and stay alive. Won't work this time."
"Why not?"
"Gramps, doesn't it strike you as fishy? Telling you straight because it's you. This is a rigged game. Conclusion's already set."
Marquis Fabius's eyebrow twitched.
"What do you mean?"
I sighed deeply in pity.
"Truth is, this war was just us Kara versus Duke Bastain's army. Lorbros Kingdom wasn't really involved. Remember when we sent that delegation to sow discord?"
"Yes. But it failed."
"No, it worked. The king seems to have made up his mind back then. Had to kill Duke Bastain for the royal family's safety. Right after our fight with you ended, he contacted me. I bargained, of course. And this coup business is the payoff."
Marquis Fabius slammed the table.
"Damn it all! The king's gone mad with jealousy at last!"
"Doesn't seem like just that."
"What do you mean?"
"Politics plays a big part too, I bet. We win, declare vassalage as promised, and suddenly Lorbros King's the victory hero. Guy's sharp."
"White Mask! This isn't a joke!"
"I'm telling you to stay alive. Don't do something stupid and get yourself killed too. Learned my lesson this time—guys like us dumb swordsmen can't beat politicians. Their thinking's downright scary."
Marquis Fabius flushed red even to his bald pate, fury boiling over. Can't blame him; who'd stay calm?
"White Mask, I still have to go."
"You'll die like this."
"But if I don't, all my men die! Last request. Let me go."
I stared at Fabius long and hard, feigned deep thought, then spoke.
"Fine. But don't go political. Go armed."
"What?"
"Swordsmen like us can't win their word games. So go with what you do best. The blade."
Marquis Fabius's eye twitched.
"You mean plot rebellion?"
"Yeah. With 150,000 on paper, you've got a shot."
"But no cause. Your testimony and that hit list won't sway Lorbros's people."
I smiled faintly. He was quibbling over justification—hooked already.
"Grand Saintess's testimony and endorsement. I'll provide it."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"Then we've got cause."
"Just do it. No kingdom lasts forever anyway. Better to go down swinging with your men than die meekly. Worst case, no loss."
Marquis Fabius eyed me sideways.
"But why help our rebellion? Ending the war now costs you Kara nothing."
"Got history with you, Gramps. And telling Count Malthus about his execution today? Broke my heart."
"That's all?"
"Makes me uneasy too. If they butcher loyal retainers like dogs for profit, what's stopping them from doing the same to vassals like us? Can't trust 'em. We're desperate enough to ally, but it nags at me. Better to side with reliable folk outright."
"Fair enough. Send me to Braam then. I'll talk to Duke Bastain."
I inwardly cheered. Yes! Foundation to sway the duke was set. Count Malthus—infamously stubborn in Lorbros—and Marquis Fabius stepping up.
Plus, unlike me the enemy, these two were the duke's battle comrades. Better them convincing him than me.
Soon as I secured Marquis Fabius's buy-in, I informed Count Malthus. Naturally, he jumped at it.
The count had been awaiting execution tomorrow. My offer must've felt like a ray of heavenly light.
"White Mask. I'll never forget this debt."
As we neared Braam, the count offered thanks. I waved it off casually.
"Forget it. Just convince the duke. All I can do is deliver you to him."
"Don't worry. His Grace will understand our cause."
I gave Count Malthus a skeptical look. Duke Bastain was no pushover.
He'd surely suspect my motives. Self-interest exposes the fishy bits. As Marquis Fabius once said, we Kara gain little from this rebellion. So something's up. Duke wouldn't miss it.
At Braam's gates, Count Malthus bellowed up at the ramparts.
"I am Count Malthus, commander of Polkin Pass! Open the gates—I have urgent business with Duke Bastain!"
After ages of verification, the gates creaked open. Irked by the delay, the count shot glares at the gate guards but pressed on—time was short.
A knight soon escorted us to the old Braam viceroy's palace, now a meeting hall.
"This way. Marquis Fabius has already arrived."
Moments later, in the meeting room, I faced a silence heavy with killing intent. The full command staff was assembled, venting their mood through murderous quiet.
They'd heard the news via the marquis, it seemed.