Chapter 225: The Land of the Blind with Open Eyes (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 225: The Land of the Blind with Open Eyes (4)
Finding the prince did not take long.
As usual, he was staying in the detached palace. Count Rondon, wearing a complicated expression, delivered the heavy truth he had just witnessed.
"A short while ago, His Majesty the King passed away."
The last heir of Redford, Charlo Redford, replied with a perfectly calm face.
"I see."
"...Did you perhaps already know?"
"My father came to me and told me the truth. He explained why he had lived such a dissolute life all this time, and said that before Redford fell completely into the abyss, the royal family had to fulfill its responsibility. He spoke in circles, but in the end, it meant that this country could only survive if he and I both died."
He took a sip of his tea.
Inhaling its sweet aroma, Charlo Redford looked at Count Rondon, whose face was now stained with shock.
"There is no need to be so flustered. Even if my father hadn't confessed, I knew his secret from the very beginning. The deaths of my older brother and younger sibling were not natural. Seeing my father indulge in wine and women while looking at me with such pitying eyes made me certain there was a conspiracy behind the tragedies unfolding in Redford. And it was exactly as I suspected. After closely observing my surroundings, I discovered that the servants were adding something to my food. It was an antidote. That led me to the conclusion that my father had been putting on an act he despised, all to keep me alive."
"If you knew the truth, why didn't you say anything?"
"Because saying anything wouldn't have changed a thing, Count Rondon. Evil forces had already stretched out their demonic clutches, killing the heirs of the royal family and blackmailing my father with my life as leverage. What were we supposed to do? Since I was poisoned with a deadly toxin and his son's life was on the line, would it have been right to beg the people to overlook his dissolute lifestyle?"
Even if they had spoken the truth, there was no way to solve the fundamental problem.
The moment the mages declared the poison incurable, Charlo Redford was doomed to die.
Yet, even knowing that, the king could not let go of his son's fragile thread of life.
Having already lost two of his children, he simply could not bear to lose his last.
Count Rondon spoke, his voice trembling.
"...Your Highness told me to lead the rebellion. Did you plan for that even while knowing the truth?"
"It couldn't be helped, could it? My father could not bring himself to throw away my life, and I did not have the heart to harm him myself. Therefore, the only way for Redford to survive was for both father and son to die. That is why I asked you to start a rebellion. Simply stepping down from the throne wouldn't solve the country's problems. Power had to be completely transferred to the right person, and since the survival of the royal bloodline would only cause future discord, I needed you to draw your sword, Count Rondon. You are the right person to inherit the throne of Redford. Knowing the years you have dedicated to this kingdom, as long as you were prepared to make the hard decision, I intended to become your 'justification.'"
Dragging the king down from the throne, followed by Charlo Redford succumbing to the deadly poison—Count Rondon would naturally fill the void they left behind.
This was the prince's grand design.
Even knowing the truth, and even standing on the precipice of death, he had staked his life for the sake of Redford.
"But my father made his decision first. When he told me the truth, he tried his absolute best to remain calm while sentencing his own son to death. Looking at him, I pretended to know nothing. Only by doing so could my father end his life in relative peace."
Charlo Redford.
The public had judged him as unfit for the throne.
Indeed, he was not born with a natural talent to rule over others, but as a member of the royal family, he accepted his heavy fate.
Perhaps, he truly was a man fit to be king.
If he had accumulated experience and wisdom under normal circumstances, Charlo Redford would have inherited the throne and grown into a wise ruler. But reality was not so kind. This chaotic era was not a peaceful time that would wait for young talent to mature. Thus, the last heir of the royal family made the decision to embrace his own death.
Count Rondon bowed his head.
He could not bring himself to look at the prince.
Just as he had shouldered the burden of the kingdom in secret, realizing the immense weight the prince had silently carried made his emotions well up, choking his throat.
Charlo Redford spoke softly.
"Lastly, I have one favor to ask of you, Count Rondon. Please do not let the deaths of my father and me be in vain. Rebuild Redford, and make sure to take revenge on the evil forces that threw our kingdom into chaos. If you can promise me that much... I will accept my death with a smile."
At those words, Count Rondon nodded, his head still bowed low.
Since any words or attempts at comfort felt entirely inadequate, nodding repeatedly was the only response he could offer.
* * *
Ten days later.
Charlo Redford closed his eyes.
As the deadly poison surged through his veins, he trembled violently, ending his life with a frail expression that contrasted sharply with his usual dignified demeanor. In his final moments, he showed a desperate attachment to life. Had he not been a prince, he might have had a chance to live. But for the sake of those who would live on, he stubbornly kept his mouth shut.
Lest any lingering regrets pierce Count Rondon's heart like a dagger, Charlo knew he had to let go completely.
It was a gloomy day.
Under dark, gathering clouds and a steady, dismal rain, a public funeral was held by Count Rondon's order.
Whoosh!
Crackle!
Flames erupted.
Two corpses lay at the center of a high pyre. The magically kindled flames flared a brilliant red, devouring the wood despite the falling rain. Countless people watched the solemn scene. The citizens lined up behind Count Rondon, forgetting past grievances to show their deepest respect for the final moments of the royal family.
The king and the prince.
Their true causes of death had been made public.
It was announced that the king had taken his own life to avoid succumbing to blackmail, and the prince had died due to the demonic clutches of evil forces. The people of Redford had previously resented their king. And while his crime of plunging the country into the abyss had deserved punishment, the revelation of this hidden truth redirected the blazing flames of their anger toward these 'evil forces.'
This was Count Rondon's intention.
To rebuild a nation whose very foundations were shaking, they needed an entity that everyone could unite against as a common enemy.
The ones who ruined the country, drove the royal family to their deaths, and even incited riots through Jacklin.
As rumors spread that this culprit was the Kronos Empire, the people's rage reached a boiling point.
...His Majesty the King. Prince Charlo.
Count Rondon stared into the roaring flames with a complex gaze.
In the end, everyone in Redford had their own story.
The king had his, the prince had his, Rondon had his own, and Jacklin had his as well. If only they had been a little more honest with one another. There surely would have been a chance to resolve the stagnant, rotting issues before it was too late. But a chain of wrong choices had created the Redford of today.
At one time, Count Rondon had lived trapped in his own narrative.
He had thought he was solely shouldering the burden of the kingdom despite being denounced as a traitor. Yet, just as Jacklin had attacked him based only on the visible truth, Rondon too had failed to see the king's hidden truth when he attacked the royal palace.
It was not that the king's misdeeds were a lie.
But the fact that he only learned the truth after the king chose death weighed heavily on his heart.
Redford will not collapse like this. I will create a nation that constantly questions the truth before its eyes, listens to the voices of its people, and does not crumble under the conspiracies of evil forces like the Kronos Empire. And I will, without fail, have my revenge.
He gritted his teeth.
Turning away from the flames that had burned down to ash and acrid smoke, Count Rondon spoke to the Royal Knight Commander standing faithfully behind him.
"We will hold the Coronation Ceremony within a few days. Select a venue and convey the news to the people."
"Understood."
Leaving death behind, it was now time to live for the sake of the living.
* * *
Normally, a regime secured through rebellion does not receive the cheers of the people.
However, Count Rondon was different.
With the deaths of the king and the prince, the royal lineage had ended, and the people naturally nominated Count Rondon as the new king. It was not a throne won by a bloody coup. Although Count Rondon had indeed led troops to confront the king, the people of the royal palace kept their mouths shut about the details. Thus, the common citizens did not oppose his ascension in the slightest.
Rather, they were enthusiastic.
Who was Count Rondon?
He was the figure who had dedicated himself to Redford while bearing the world's scorn.
Because the years they had spent calling him a traitor now weighed on them as guilt, their feelings toward Count Rondon burned even more passionately.
"Your Majesty! Congratulations on your ascension!"
"Waaaaaaah!"
"Redford! Redford!"
"Redford! Redford!"
Massive crowds gathered in front of the royal palace.
At the venue announcing the ascension of the new king, they cheered at the top of their lungs.
Count Rondon—no, the man now called the King of Redford—looked out over the sea of people.
These are the people I will rule from now on.
Ten days ago, after wrapping up the entire situation, Roman Dmitry had left him with these final words before departing Redford:
"Count Rondon. Now that the truth has been revealed, the people will send you passionate cheers. They will show blind loyalty, as if the days they denounced you as a traitor never existed. Do not place too much meaning on such a sudden change. Those who called you a traitor, those who now raise their voices in respect, and even those who participated in the riots that attacked you—they are all simply the people of Redford. What kind of face they show in the future depends entirely on your rule. In truth, the fact that they could neither hear nor see the truth stems from the failure of their leaders to create an environment where truth could thrive in the first place. Keep that in mind."
Roman Dmitry's words were deeply engraved in his heart.
Letting go of his past grievances, the new King of Redford raised his hand high.
A thunderous cheer erupted.
Redford would absolutely never repeat its past mistakes.
* * *
Just as Redford was facing this period of upheaval, Roman Dmitry returned to Dmitry.
If the Redford Kingdom regains stability under Count Rondon, Dmitry will gain a reliable ally.
Count Rondon had promised to rebuild the country without fail.
And if a war with the Kronos Empire broke out in the future, Redford would throw all their strength into the fight, if only for the sake of their own revenge. It was not a bad outcome. The Kingdom Alliance, which had been on the verge of collapse, had regained its stability. Furthermore, Redford now treated Dmitry not just as a simple ally, but as a lifelong benefactor.
He organized his thoughts regarding Redford.
From now on, their fate was up to them.
For Roman, the most important issue moving forward was ensuring that Dmitry possessed a force capable of withstanding any storm.
After resting for a few days to recover from the fatigue of his journey, Roman Dmitry summoned Chris.
"Chris. We must leave for the Valhalla Empire in the near future. When we do, we cannot take all of our forces with us. Since we do not know what might happen in Valhalla or here in Dmitry, the soldiers need to train for a 'battlefield without me' to prepare for any contingency. Therefore, for the time being, we will cancel all public schedules and proceed with special training for the soldiers."
"Are there any specific instructions to pass on?"
"None. However, tell them to get plenty of rest while preparing. It will be a grueling time."
"Understood."
Chris nodded.
Until now, Dmitry's training had always been intense.
Yet, hearing Roman Dmitry explicitly use the word "grueling" for the first time sent a chill down his spine. As he stepped outside, Chris muttered to himself.
"...We're in trouble."
Even the man now renowned as the Flash of Dmitry—rather than Cairo—felt a heavy surge of tension regarding this upcoming training.
Time flowed by.
And before they knew it, the deadline set by Valhalla was just around the corner.