Chapter 430: The Battle for Dmitry (6)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 430: The Battle for Dmitry (6)
Returning to his office, Henry Albert slumped into his chair, his face a mask of despair.
"...I'm fucked."
It was hopeless.
He had bluffed to escape the immediate situation, but he knew deep down that if he actually came face-to-face with Chris, he wouldn't even be able to pretend to know him. The Chris of the past was vastly different from the Chris of today. Back then, Chris was merely a promising prospect following Roman Dmitry; now, he was the premier swordsman representing the Dmitry Empire.
What if he tried to act familiar and Chris didn't recognize him? The house of cards he had so painstakingly built would come crashing down in an instant.
‘Should I just call in sick on the day of the lecture?’
He quickly shook his head.
Doing so might help him dodge the immediate crisis, but Professor Bradley's suspicions would surely skyrocket. Bradley was a man who never lowered his guard, even when someone was standing right in front of him. As a highly influential figure within the Cairo Royal Academy, if Bradley’s suspicions took root, Henry would eventually face an unavoidable crisis.
"There's no way out. Absolutely none."
His head throbbed.
In truth, he hadn't reached his current position entirely through lies. Everything he taught about the Southern Front was based on fact; he had simply spun those facts into sensationalized tales from his own exaggerated perspective. Therefore, even if his true colors were revealed, there were no legal grounds to strip him of his professorship. The real problem was how people would look at him. If it were revealed that the heroic professor they admired was actually nothing more than a glorified "Soldier A," the students who respected him would feel deeply betrayed.
He hated that thought.
Henry Albert considered himself a merchant of illusions. By spinning the ideal fantasies people desired through his writings and lectures, he satisfied their cravings. That was exactly how he had risen to power. He could never allow the illusion to shatter. Since every ounce of wealth and honor he possessed was built on this mirage, he had to protect it by any means necessary.
"Henry, calm down."
He caught his breath. There was no clear solution in sight. However, the current Henry Albert—a man who had witnessed Roman Dmitry's way of life firsthand—was not one to give up easily.
He called for his assistant and issued a swift order.
"Three days from now, when Sir Chris visits Kairos, bring him to my office before he goes up to the podium. If he asks why, tell him that as a professor, I wish to discuss Lauren Dmitry's future. He will surely comply without a fuss."
Once again, his method was simple: an abuse of authority. Henry Albert actively mobilized the only weapons he had.
* * *
Three days later.
Everything went exactly according to plan. Seeing Chris enter his office, Henry Albert did his best to swallow his nerves and offered a welcoming smile.
"It is an honor to meet the Flash of Dmitry. The reason I requested this meeting, Sir Chris, is regarding Lauren Dmitry's future path. Lauren's swordsmanship is currently improving at a rapid pace, meaning he will likely undergo a promotion exam in the near future. The issue is what comes after. In the past, as we saw with Sir Rodwell Dmitry, students who demonstrated skills beyond the Academy's scope were deployed to actual combat. But currently, there are no suitable positions available, are there? I wanted to know if the family has any separate plans for his future."
In truth, there were many topics he could have used to break the ice. He could have brought up the private concerns Lauren Dmitry had confided in him, but Henry Albert knew that would be bad form. Human relationships hinged on the finest of margins. If Lauren Dmitry found out that his private worries had been leaked to a third party, he would surely feel deeply betrayed.
Henry was different from his past self. Though he had acted arrogantly during his intense first meeting with Roman Dmitry, the current Henry Albert possessed the ability to read the room. By discussing Lauren Dmitry's official affairs—which perfectly aligned with the stated purpose of the meeting—he chose a safe topic that wouldn't cause problems down the line.
Chris replied calmly. "That is not a matter for me to interfere with, so I have nothing to say regarding Young Master Lauren's future. Still, thank you for bringing this to my attention. I will discuss Young Master Lauren's matters with the family as soon as I return to Dmitry."
"Understood. If you ever need my help, please let me know at any time."
Henry smiled. The talk about Lauren Dmitry was merely bait. Having successfully gotten Chris to sit down and established a decent rapport, Henry Albert subtly shifted to his real objective.
"...By the way, I'm not sure if you remember me, but I was also present on the battlefield during the Southern Front. At the Cairo Royal Academy, I conduct my lectures based on what happened back then. If anyone asks about it today, would you mind playing along? If you could do just that, the students would be even more immersed in the lecture and truly grasp the gravity of the events on the Southern Front."
It was a meticulously calculated request. Just play along with the lectures. If they naturally established a connection here, introducing himself as a comrade in front of Professor Bradley would flow seamlessly.
As Henry Albert secretly swallowed his dry saliva, Chris smiled.
"Lord Henry Albert."
"...Yes?"
"There is no need to beat around the bush so laboriously. I am well aware of the favor you wish to ask of me."
In that instant, Henry's heart sank to his stomach. What on earth did that mean? As Henry stared blankly, his face tight with tension, Chris elaborated.
"The Dmitry Intelligence Department manages all information related to Dmitry. We monitor not just our enemies, but anyone who publicly uses the Dmitry name. You, Lord Henry Albert, have been on that list for quite some time. While it is true that you crossed the line between life and death with us on the Southern Front, you have reaped massive profits by exploiting a connection that doesn't truly exist. But there is no need to look so nervous. If Dmitry had judged your actions to be a threat, we would have taken measures long ago."
Henry's eyes trembled. His mind was in an absolute frenzy, scrambling to figure out how to react.
"The Dmitry Intelligence Department concluded that you, Lord Henry Albert, are of use to us. Therefore, you do not need to go through the trouble of arranging a private meeting like this just to win me over. As long as you continue to elevate Dmitry's prestige while moderately utilizing our reputation, Dmitry has no particular reason to stop you."
Chris stood up from his seat.
Finally, he added, "Regardless of the process, it is an undeniable fact that you and Dmitry faced life and death together on the Southern Front. I will not deny that part of your story, so you do not need to worry too much."
With that, Chris took his leave.
As the door clicked shut, Henry Albert stood dazed in his office for a long while.
"...What in the world."
It was shocking. Dmitry actually knew of his existence, yet they hadn't bothered to stop him from leeching off their fame. Goosebumps erupted all over his body. He was entirely in awe of the Dmitry Intelligence Department's information network and their hidden intentions.
Yet, absurdly, in the very next moment, a surging wave of euphoria washed over Henry Albert.
'Wait... if what Sir Chris said is true, doesn't that mean my actions are officially sanctioned?'
Think about it.
1. Dmitry knew of his existence.
2. They knew what he was doing and turned a blind eye.
3. Utilizing their name to a moderate degree was a win-win for both sides.
4. They officially acknowledged him as a comrade from the Southern Front!
A miraculous circuit of delusional happiness fired up in Henry Albert's brain, instantly concluding that his actions of riding on Dmitry's coattails were perfectly legitimate. Just as Chris had implied, Henry Albert was merely a mosquito sucking a little blood while loudly singing Dmitry's praises. Such an existence posed no harm to the empire.
He smirked. With his delusional happiness circuit spinning at maximum capacity, the Henry Albert who had been paralyzed by worry and anxiety just moments ago vanished without a trace.
* * *
That afternoon, the lecture concluded as a massive success.
After offering the students a wealth of advice regarding the cultural exchange between Cairo and Dmitry, Chris stepped down from the podium to thunderous cheers. And when he stepped outside into the hall, the first person to greet him was Henry Albert, who thrust out his hand with a triumphant, beaming expression.
"You worked hard, Sir Chris! Hearing about the events of the Southern Front—where we shed blood and sweat together—directly from you brings back so many memories. We were truly magnificent back then, weren't we? Hahaha!"
Behind Henry stood several faculty members, including Professor Bradley.
Although Henry's intentions were glaringly obvious, Chris suppressed a laugh and shook the offered hand.
"Thank you. It was a special occasion for me to reflect on the past as well."
"Is that so? Ah, right! These are the esteemed professors of the Royal Academy. They kept begging me to introduce them to the Flash of Dmitry, Sir Chris. Let me introduce them starting from the right. First, this is Professor Bradley..."
It was a warm, friendly gathering. They exchanged pleasantries, laughed, and chatted. When the conversation threatened to drag on too long, Henry Albert smoothly cut it short.
"Well then, I hope you have a wonderful time during the rest of your stay."
He had achieved his goal. Professor Bradley, who had initially watched the exchange with narrowed, suspicious eyes, snapped his mouth shut with a disgruntled scowl. The moment they parted ways with Chris, Henry Albert's nose pointed straight to the sky. Today's meeting had instantly dispelled all prior doubts. Regardless of the actual truth, Henry Albert knew exactly how to project his image.
Left alone with the other professors, Henry Albert smirked and sighed nostalgically.
"Listening to Sir Chris's lecture brought back so many memories. You gentlemen probably wouldn't understand. The Southern Front... The fierce desperation of those of us who were present the day Hector suddenly declared war. The moment we crossed the line between life and death alongside His Majesty Emperor Roman Dmitry is a precious memory that must be passed down through generations of my family. Do I still keep in touch with Sir Chris? Of course! We are comrades-in-arms! We shed blood and sweat together, so what's a little keeping in touch?"
He made a magnificent fuss. Believing he had received official permission from Dmitry, he boasted of his own status with a face full of radiant smiles.
Henry Albert was a man who had risen to the prestigious position of professor on a mere speck of truth. For him, that brief conversation with Chris had truly given him wings.
Chris watched the spectacle from a distance. Seeing how Henry deliberately kept his distance afterward to avoid causing any potential trouble, Chris let out a soft chuckle.
"He really is amazing, though in a completely different sense."
One thing was certain. In the future, history would record Henry Albert—that once-insignificant existence—as someone truly remarkable. Of course, exactly how he would be recorded was something even Chris couldn't fathom.
* * *
A few days passed.
Though the fervor surrounding the battle for Dmitry had subsided after Rodwell Dmitry's departure for Arcadia, the empire remained as busy as ever. Roman Dmitry had forewarned of an impending war with the Demon Realm. Since perfect peace had not yet arrived, Dmitry's workshops blazed with intense heat, continuously churning out weapons day and night.
Clang!
Clang, clang!
The rhythmic sound of metal clashing echoed from all directions.
Hendrick, the Master Blacksmith of the forge, inspected a freshly crafted weapon handed to him by one of his subordinates. His face instantly contorted in anger.
"This isn't it!"
Immediately after the war ended, the forge had been assigned a critical new mission: crafting weapons imbued with Divine Power. These were absolutely essential for fighting the demonic creatures of the Demon Realm, but it was far from an easy task. The holy water used during the crafting process completely disrupted the metal's balance. While they managed to produce weapons that retained a trace of Divine Power, the power itself was far too weak, and the structural integrity of the steel was abysmal.
Hendrick, as a Master Blacksmith, could not tolerate such shoddy work. He pushed his subordinate blacksmiths to their absolute limits, but even after a considerable amount of time, the situation hadn't improved.
Today was no different. Just as the frustrated blacksmiths were wiping the sweat from their brows, a sudden commotion arose outside the forge.
"His Majesty the Emperor has arrived!"
"Everyone, come out and pay your respects!"
Roman Dmitry. He had arrived.
Though he was once openly dismissed as the Fool of Dmitry, no one in the empire dared to think of him that way anymore. Both as the absolute ruler who guided Dmitry and as a peerless master craftsman who forged swords, he was an object of deep, unwavering respect for every blacksmith in the facility. The workers, their faces flushed red from the heat of the furnaces, immediately bowed their heads. Roman Dmitry simply raised a hand, signaling them to resume their work.
"What brings you to this place, Your Majesty?" Hendrick asked, rushing over to greet him.
Roman Dmitry looked at the Master Blacksmith. "What is the current status of the Divine Weapon production?"
"...We do not have any distinct results yet," Hendrick admitted, his expression grim. "In truth, Divine Weapons are crafted for the purpose of inflicting definitive damage on demonic creatures. But if the performance of the steel weapon itself falls short, there is a chance it won't even pierce the creatures' hides. That is why we are dedicating as much manpower as possible to improving the base quality of the steel."
This was information Roman had already received in his reports. For the past few days, this issue had occupied his thoughts.
A new enemy. A new battlefield.
Whenever Roman Dmitry faced a new challenge, he always took the time to forge a new sword perfectly suited to his current self. This time was no different. With the war against the Demon Realm looming, Roman Dmitry intended to forge a new blade. Crafting a sword for Kevin alongside it was merely a secondary matter.
"Prepare a workshop for me to work in."
"...What do you mean by that, Your Majesty?" Hendrick reacted with visible confusion.
Until now, Roman Dmitry had always worked in his own private, completely sealed-off workshop. Because of that strict isolation, no one had ever been granted the privilege of watching him work.
However, this time would be different.
"I will forge the weapon in front of everyone. If I achieve the result I desire, you will all find the solution to how you should craft Divine Weapons moving forward."
In that instant, Hendrick's heart began to pound wildly against his ribs.
Who was Roman Dmitry? Before he was the Emperor of the Dmitry Empire, and before he was the continent's greatest swordsman, he had been the continent's greatest blacksmith.
For such a transcendent being to forge a sword right in front of their very eyes...
Hendrick shouted, his voice trembling with involuntary excitement, "Understood! I will prepare the workshop immediately!"