Chapter 24
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 24
Chapter Title: The Fake Betrothal Ploy
-----------------------------------------------------------------
This wasn't just some preliminary investigation.
It was the bare minimum qualification any martial artist possessed.
Aspiration for growth.
No matter how much of a Sword Saint he was—someone beyond compare to a mere Sword Master—his own growth hadn't come to an end.
"Elder."
I quietly handed him a teacup as I spoke.
"As you know, our house has many enemies at the moment."
"That's true."
"It's still too heavy a burden for my little sister Melissa to bear."
"That much is obvious."
"So, could the House of Mielephon lend us their aid? If you promise to do so, I'll give you whatever you desire."
This was how the world worked—give and take.
His eyes twitched at my proposal.
"I'd love to help, but you know as well as I do. I'm an imperial noble, not from the Kingdom of Bata."
If he got involved in this...
"No, it's just borrowing a name, really. Not a permanent alliance with the county—merely buying us some time."
"Tell me more."
"A means that won't stir up talk even among foreign powers: a political marriage."
"Hm?"
His eyes widened.
"Signs of a betrothal between House Mielephon and the Cascadia County. That alone will stop the nobles of our small Kingdom of Bata from touching us carelessly."
My proposal was simple.
A fake betrothal.
"Just letting word spread that talks are in the air would be threat enough."
"Heh... hahaha."
He let out a hollow laugh at my offer.
"So that's it. You knew I couldn't refuse, which is why you're making such a bold proposal."
"I'm not inheriting the county anyway. Even if the betrothal falls through later, my sister won't face any scandals. And since we're not naming a specific bride, it won't cause much issue for the young ladies of Mielephon either."
"Hmm..."
"You'll gain far more than just taking me as your disciple."
It was what you'd call a no-strings-attached political marriage.
"It's a simple transaction. I guarantee it won't leave you at a loss."
I'd dressed it up with all the talk of betrothals, but...
At its core, we just needed the connection to a massive imperial house like Mielephon. That was enough to leverage.
"It's not a real betrothal, after all."
After some deliberation, he made his decision.
"Very well. If it's just as you say, it shouldn't cause major problems. Even so... your sister must mean a great deal to you, for you to stake your own future like this."
"She's family, annoying as she is."
He nodded at my words.
"Agreed. But keep this in mind—your actions carry the risk of turning into a real betrothal. Rumors have a way of snowballing."
"A mere rumor of a betrothal? What matters is we have no intention of making it real."
"Then here's my answer."
I wrote a single sentence on a piece of paper.
And handed it to him.
"Elder. What you truly desire isn't how I mimicked sword aura, is it?"
"This is..."
"I thought it might be what you need most right now."
What I'd written was the pinnacle insight for a Sword Master.
A hint to the wall he was facing.
"It's up to your own abilities to break through it."
"You... just who...?"
"Is this the price you desired?"
For a conversation between the continent's Sword Saint and a boy who'd just become an Expert, it was utterly bizarre.
But he said nothing, committing the sentence to memory with grave seriousness.
"Elder, did your business go well?"
"Let's head back."
Bagmut Mielephon tilted his head at Osberg, who quickened his pace with a stern expression.
"Elder? Did something upset you?"
Osberg didn't answer the question.
Instead, after a long pause, a satisfied smile crossed his face.
"He proposed a fake political marriage with House Mielephon."
"Pardon?!"
"He said even just rumors of talks would ease the pressure on their house. From a small kingdom's perspective, pressuring a family tied to Mielephon isn't easy."
"A fake one means no actual discussions, right? Is that what upset you?"
"No, that's actually a good thing. What gave me pause was the insight he shared, Bagmut."
"Pardon?"
He explained.
"It's a stroke of fortune. A true serendipity. To receive such enlightenment from a fresh young boy at my age..."
"Fortune...? Elder?"
"Let's return to the house. We should let the rumors spread as he wishes."
"I'll make the arrangements."
"Of course, he seems to underestimate the power of rumors... but he'll bear the consequences himself."
"One thing, Elder..."
"Depending on the value this insight brings, we'll repay him in full."
The Sword Saint burst into hearty laughter.
"Yes. We'll send that black sword we prepared earlier as a gift."
"Understood."
Sword Saint Osberg had stared at the paper with the sentence written on it as if entranced.
The content itself wasn't anything groundbreaking.
Anyone else would dismiss it as nonsense.
But for him alone, it was precisely what he needed.
People have their habits.
From the flow and usage of his aura, subtle tells of his unconscious habits emerged.
Observing those, I'd guessed his current realm and the troubles plaguing him, then penned a line to drive the wedge home. Interpreting and internalizing it was up to him.
I had my moments like that too.
In that sense, Osberg Mielephon was remarkably like me.
Of course, he was knocking on the wall of Mind Master—what martial arts tales would call the Profound Realm—so it was impressive.
"How many times did I die to reach that realm...?"
Time didn't pass, so I just tallied the deaths.
[Roughly 100,000 deaths experienced.]
Even as my survival rate improved later on, it was still in the hundred thousands.
"That 100,000 figure, you damn librarian."
[Confirmed.]
"Even if you lopped them off one by one, it'd take days, weeks, months. Try experiencing it yourself—it's pure hell. Got it? And that's my deaths, not kills."
The librarian didn't react to my scolding.
"Anyway, if Mielephon just drops the word, the royal nobles won't touch us for a while."
We had plenty of pretext. Ties formed while handling the monster outbreak in Cascadia County.
Not an official betrothal or alliance, but rumors of the Sword Saint favoring me as a match for one of Mielphon's daughters would suffice.
And true to his word, word reached the county that talks of a betrothal between Mielephon and me had circulated.
Thanks to that, perhaps...
The high nobles in the royal court scheming against us came to a complete halt. No interference whatsoever.
On the contrary, an order came down for Melissa to promptly receive official Expert certification from the palace.
A few more days passed as we sorted the businesses reeling from Tibel's tyranny, securing missing supplies through trades.
Manpower was critically short, but Melissa had scaled things down to minimize the fallout, making it manageable to some degree.
Meanwhile, I'd periodically torn apart the lingering specter of that damn Tibel Cascadia, dismantling him bit by bit.
Turning him fully into an undead wraith knight would yield a decent card to play, but I had no intention of letting him reform completely.
The necromancy circle I aimed to secure first was around 5th-circle Master level.
Equivalent to peak Sword Expert among swordsmen.
Though necromancy was fringe magic, it wasn't forbidden—as long as we avoided banned spells.
After wrapping up the grueling paperwork and heading to the kitchen to enact my long-prepared plan...
"Leon! You son of a bitch!!!"
Melissa stormed in, fully composed and furious beyond measure.
"What's her deal now? Bad food?"
"You graffitied my face!"
"What the... hell?"
I awkwardly averted my gaze, and she ground her teeth.
But she soon sighed. Think that'll let you off?
"I'll never forget this. Just you wait."
Ah, she's the vengeful type.
A sigh escaped me naturally.
"More importantly, what's this political marriage nonsense?"
"Oh... that."
I glanced around, then spread necromantic mana to form a barrier.
"It's fake."
"What?"
"Made a deal with the elder. Answered his questions in exchange for borrowing Mielephon's name. Called it a political marriage, but no specific match, no real talks."
She stared at me in disbelief.
"The Sword Saint agreed to that?"
"What choice did he have? He gains more from it."
Melissa's face twisted in shock.
"What kind of lunatic...?"
"Why aren't you asking about the monster attack aftermath or how many knights got hurt?"
"I got all the reports. Honestly, trying to understand you is a lost cause."
"Not like you couldn't catch it because you're weak, right?"
At my jab, she hurled a nearby plate.
Thud!!
Of course, I had no intention of breaking good dishes, so I caught it.
I was in the middle of an important experiment—no time for trivia.
"If this works, we'll make bank."
I kept stirring as I shot back at Melissa.
"You heard—Tibel's dead, royals can't scheme thanks to Mielephon. Businesses are stabilizing. But damages are huge, manpower gaps everywhere. That's on you to fix."
She sighed and nodded at my rundown.
"I'll handle it."
She averted her eyes, displeased with her current state.
"What are you even doing? Eggs and milk? What's that?"
"Condensed milk. Guess what I'm making."
She tilted her head at my question.
"Dessert? They sell, but competition's fierce. Profitable?"
"In any world, tasty things make money."
This world's desserts were varied, but ice cream had room to grow.
Trapped in Labyrinthos, I'd craved sweets so badly.
Luckily, I remembered a simple ice cream recipe from my past life.
No vanilla extract was a shame, but this world had a liquid for chocolate flavor.
"Let's shove this in and see."
I alternated high and low heat, jammed in ingredients, stirred vigorously, then placed it in a chilling magic tool, enhancing with necromantic frost.
Melissa abandoned her tasks to watch blankly.
Once properly chilled, I pulled it out, added more prepped ingredients, stirred into a thick mixture.
"What is it? Soup?"
"Done. Now freeze for about eight hours."
"What? Make it then freeze?"
"Yeah, eaten cold."
I tossed it in the freezer artifact and said,
"Not perfect, but it'll be decent. Look forward to it."
"Better not suck."
For all her words, her expression showed anticipation—she loved sweets.