Chapter 364: The End of the Civil War (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 364: The End of the Civil War (3)
Marquis Memphis's office.
Having relocated to the private office, Count Fabius sat across from Marquis Memphis and spoke with a playful smirk.
"Aren't we seeing each other a bit too often? Whether it's Dmitry or Kronos, it seems the trusted men never get a moment's rest, hahaha."
Count Fabius, Dmitry's diplomatic specialist, and Marquis Memphis, Kronos's second-in-command.
Just as Fabius noted, the two had grown quite familiar with each other's faces, crossing paths whenever a political dispute arose. But unlike Fabius, who seemed genuinely pleased, Memphis made no effort to hide his irritation at Dmitry's sudden, unilateral visit.
"State your business."
"Tsk. Well, if you insist on being so blunt." Fabius shrugged.
Taking a sip of the tea a servant had poured, Fabius kept his expression perfectly relaxed.
"Quite some time has passed since Kronos and Dmitry signed our ceasefire agreement. Since both sides have faithfully adhered to the terms, there haven't been any issues. However, we recently received intelligence that the Kronos Empire is amassing troops along the Cairo border. Naturally, I'm sure it's under the guise of 'military exercises.' But for you to take such action precisely when Dmitry is entangled with Valhalla..."
Clack.
He set his teacup down firmly. His genial smile vanished in an instant.
"My Lord is highly displeased."
Marquis Memphis's face contorted. Openly expressing displeasure toward the Kronos Empire was something utterly unimaginable just a year ago.
"As you just said, it is merely a military exercise. I fail to see how this is any of Dmitry's business."
"Yes, yes, of course you'd say that. If you stubbornly insist this is strictly separate from the ceasefire, then I have nothing more to say. But aren't we both professionals here? We know exactly what kind of message this sends to Dmitry. Even if there's no secret deal with Valhalla behind these troop movements, in the realm of diplomacy, appearances alone are grounds for accountability."
It was an incredibly bold statement. Like a hyena spotting an opening, Count Fabius ruthlessly bit into the vulnerability his opponent had exposed.
At that, Memphis finally stopped masking his hostility.
"Count Fabius. If we truly intended to seize this opportunity to strike Dmitry, we wouldn't have stood by until now. Kronos has never once deployed its full might in our war against you. If we truly set our minds to it, we could dictate any outcome we desired. The troops sent to the Cairo border are a mere fraction of our power. That is the truth. Surely, Dmitry is no longer a nation that makes a fuss over something so minor?"
The tension in the room was palpable. Neither man yielded an inch.
Fabius had fully expected the meeting to go this way. Moving troops under the convenient pretext of training didn't provide a clear enough justification to hold Kronos politically accountable.
Fabius's lips twitched into a smirk.
"You're really making us drop the polite facades, aren't you? Dmitry and Kronos. As you know, we are in a state of ceasefire. That means the war is merely paused, not ended. In that sense, we are always watching the Kronos Empire's movements. While Kronos claims it desires peace, we both know war could erupt again at any moment. So let me ask you: Doesn't Kronos simply need time right now? I don't know what you are preparing, but Kronos's passive stance during this golden opportunity is abnormal. It deviates entirely from your past behavior, leading to only one conclusion—you have an ulterior motive."
His reason for visiting Kronos was crystal clear. The enemy's excuses had never mattered from the start.
"So, act with some discretion. We know full well you're trying to buy time. If you continue to maintain this ambiguous attitude, Dmitry will not sit idly by."
Creak.
He leaned back into the sofa. With an undeniably arrogant expression, he looked down his nose at his counterpart.
"Do you understand what I mean?"
* * *
A heavy silence filled the room.
"Hahaha!"
Marquis Memphis suddenly burst into laughter. Amused by Fabius's sheer audacity, he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.
"You certainly live up to your reputation. The Raccoon's tongue is incredibly sharp."
Yet beneath his laughing facade, irritation flared hot.
Dmitry. Their prestige had pierced the heavens. They were now completely uninhibited when dealing with the Kronos Empire, openly acknowledging that war would inevitably resume, just as Fabius stated. Had there ever been a nation in the continent's history that opposed Kronos so brazenly? Assuredly, if such a nation had existed, it would have been reduced to ash and joined the ranks of fallen kingdoms within a few short years.
Memphis finally spoke.
"What I can tell you with absolute certainty is that Kronos intends to uphold the ceasefire agreement. We will minimize our movements along the Cairo border as much as possible. While a full withdrawal is impossible, we will adjust our troop numbers to a level that poses no threat to Cairo."
He smiled. But unlike his amicable expression, his eyes gleamed with a lethal, sharp light.
"However... if Kronos is indeed preparing some grand scheme behind the scenes, then you, Count Fabius, have essentially walked straight into the jaws of death. You could be killed right here, simply for representing Dmitry. Are you not afraid? You, who were once known as the Raccoon of Cairo before joining Dmitry, were never a man known for a devout spirit of self-sacrifice."
It was pure, morbid curiosity. Although Kronos had conceded a step regarding the troop movements, Memphis's eyes were not those of a defeated man. He scrutinized his opponent, radiating a fierce, predatory aura as if ready to tear Fabius limb from limb.
Yet, Count Fabius simply picked up his teacup again. Holding Memphis's gaze, he slowly and deliberately savored the tea.
"Well, I won't deny that. I absolutely despise meaningless sacrifice. Only fools throw their lives away, and honestly, most people don't even appreciate the gesture anyway."
People claimed that Fabius had become a loyalist, that he had shed his old skin as the notorious Raccoon. But the truth was entirely different. Now, just as in the past, the core identity that defined Count Fabius remained unchanged.
"The reason I go this far is because I am entirely satisfied with my reality of serving Lord Roman Dmitry. My status in Dmitry is sky-high. I stand at the very core of power, and thanks to the lavish gifts sent from Dmitry every month, my wife parades around telling everyone she is the happiest woman in the world. And what about my eldest son? He is on Dmitry's elite track, training tirelessly to grow into a next-generation Aura Swordsman. And above all..."
He adjusted his posture. Sitting as comfortably as if he were lounging in his own living room, not a single trace of fear marred his face.
"I have absolute confidence that as long as I remain useful and dedicate myself to Dmitry, Lord Roman Dmitry will never abandon me under any circumstances. Declaring war on the Kronos Empire, marching into the Valhalla Imperial Court and laying waste to it... there are no limits to what that man can achieve. So how could I not devote myself to him? If I were to die here, well, it would be incredibly painful and annoying, but Dmitry would care for my family for the rest of their lives. And Lord Roman Dmitry would surely soothe my departed soul by enacting absolute vengeance upon my killers. Besides, a label like 'former traitor' will follow me to my grave anyway. Shouldn't I actively seek out dangerous tasks to make my true value shine?"
Creak.
He stood up from his seat.
"Thank you for the tea."
Having achieved his objective, Count Fabius walked out without a single lingering glance.
* * *
A secret room in Valhalla.
Under the leadership of Marquis Belfir, the nobles of Valhalla had gathered in absolute secrecy.
One noble broke the silence. "...How did things go with Kronos?"
At the cautious question, Marquis Belfir shook his head heavily.
"The Kronos Empire has refused. Even though joining forces with Valhalla would be a golden opportunity to shatter Dmitry's pride, they explicitly stated they will not get involved in this matter. They likely intend to stand by and reap the benefits once the dust settles."
"Good grief."
"Damn it."
Heavy sighs erupted from all sides. An alliance with Kronos was their only chance to turn the tide. With Kronos flatly refusing, the Valhalla nobles couldn't help but feel a crushing sense of frustration.
Marquis Belfir spoke up.
"We are now cornered. The Emperor of Valhalla still hasn't revealed his full strength, and regardless of who wins or loses this war, we are bound to suffer devastating losses. That is why, after much deliberation, I have reached a conclusion. Rather than waiting for our families to be uprooted by unreasonable troop conscriptions, why don't we take the lead in this rebellion ourselves?"
"Please, explain in detail."
The nobles' eyes sharpened. In truth, they had already accepted the possibility of treason. It was precisely because they were like-minded individuals that they were allowed to sit in this highly exclusive secret room.
"Whether it is the rebel army or the Emperor, this is a fight that will only end when one side is completely annihilated. In our current situation, where the tide is turning in favor of the rebels, our choices can dictate the outcome of the war. First, under the pretext of suppressing the rebellion, we will divert as many of the capital's troops outside the walls as possible. Then, when the city's defenses are at their weakest, we will launch a simultaneous attack on the capital from both inside and out. If we eliminate the Emperor of Valhalla, we can position ourselves as the true leaders of the rebellion. At that point, even Duke Vieto will have no justification to oppose us. Since our goals align, we will survive and remain the power holders in the new era."
"It is risky, but it seems like the best option we have."
"I agree."
Their opinions quickly converged. Even at this very moment, their hearts pounded against their ribs. Betraying the Emperor within Valhalla itself was practically suicide, but they had no other choice.
Above all, Marquis Belfir was the one taking the lead, wasn't he? They trusted him.
But the truth was slightly different. Belfir would never have shouldered the immense risk of leading a rebellion if Roman Dmitry hadn't backed him into a corner. The nobles of Valhalla were being thoroughly deceived. Fearing that revealing his own life was on the line might ruin their resolve, Belfir framed this treason as a grand vision for everyone's mutual survival.
Thus, he buried the truth. Having secured the nobles' agreement, he laid out the operational plan.
"The coup will be executed in two weeks. Once the stage is fully set, we will write a new chapter in Valhalla's history."
Two weeks.
The nobles of Valhalla had no idea that this timeframe perfectly aligned with the fifteen-day deadline Roman Dmitry had forced upon him.
* * *
Time flew by.
For the past two weeks, fierce battles had raged without pause.
Roman Dmitry relentlessly harassed Valhalla's subjugation force with hit-and-run tactics. Over the course of those two weeks, he was inevitably pushed back to the very edge of the northern border. Had he desired greater martial achievements, he could have pushed forward, even at a steep cost. However, since his original goal was merely to distract and bleed Valhalla, he commanded his troops in a way that strictly minimized casualties.
Squelch.
He wrenched his sword free. As thick blood trailed from the steel blade, Roman Dmitry calmly surveyed the battlefield.
Is this as far as we go?
Around him, enemy corpses were piled high like mountains. Count Gomez had pursued them tenaciously, but this massacre was the only result. By launching relentless surprise attacks and severing the enemy's rear guard, Roman had inflicted catastrophic damage on the subjugation force. While the Dmitry Allied Forces hadn't escaped completely unscathed, their casualties were utterly negligible compared to the enemy's staggering losses.
They had reached the edge of the border. It was officially time to withdraw.
Although Kronos had expressed a desire to maintain the ceasefire, Roman could not afford any more casualties if Dmitry was to prepare for an inevitable future war against the Empire. This current war, too, was drawing to a close. Since this was not a total war spearheaded by Dmitry, they now had to leave the rest entirely to Hernad's rebel army and Marquis Belfir's rebel faction.
Chris approached him, stepping over the bodies.
"...Do you believe Marquis Belfir's rebellion will succeed, My Lord?"
Their efforts over the past two weeks had not been in vain. After deciding to commit treason, Belfir had maintained constant contact with Dmitry. In turn, Dmitry had deliberately drawn the Empire's aggro to buy the Marquis the time he needed to prepare.
There truly could not be a better opportunity. With Hernad's rebel army swelling in size and marching toward the capital, and the citizens' riots growing increasingly violent, not even the Emperor of Valhalla would expect a knife in the back from Marquis Belfir.
However...
"The rebellion will fail," Roman said flatly.
Marquis Belfir's plan had a fatal flaw. He lacked a true powerhouse capable of deciding the outcome of the battle. No matter how suddenly Belfir launched a surprise attack on the Emperor, the special forces at the Emperor's disposal would instantly overcome any numerical disadvantage. The Immortal Swordsmen and the Imperial Mages. Having witnessed only a fraction of their true power, Roman Dmitry knew exactly how reckless this coup was.
Marquis Belfir was no fool. He, too, knew it was a near-impossible gamble, but since he would die if he did not strike first, he staked his life on that razor-thin sliver of hope.
"Belfir's rebellion is merely the beginning," Roman continued. "Though the coup will be suppressed, the Valhalla Imperial Court will suffer heavy internal damage. The conflict will drag on due to Hernad's rebel army and the enraged populace. That alone is enough for us to achieve our goal. While Valhalla drowns in disarray, we will prepare for our war with Kronos."
"Understood."
With this, Dmitry's role was finished. From now on, they would sit back, watch from the sidelines, and reap the benefits of the unfolding chaos.
Yet, the very next day, unprecedented news struck the Dmitry camp.
"The Emperor of Valhalla is dead! Marquis Belfir's rebellion has succeeded!"
The rebellion was a success. It was a truly shocking outcome that violently defied all expectations.