Chapter 51: Once You Start, You Must See It Through (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 51: Once You Start, You Must See It Through (1)
Rumors traveled incredibly fast.
The shocking news of Lawrence's victory over Barco spread like wildfire. Whenever people in the northeast gathered, their conversations inevitably turned to the events that had unfolded on the battlefield.
"Man, Barco must be devastated. To kick up such a massive fuss only to lose to Lawrence."
"But is it really true? I heard Roman attacked their rear all by himself and slaughtered hundreds of soldiers in an instant."
"Of course it's true! You know my relatives are Lawrence locals, right? I heard it straight from them. They saw it with their own eyes from atop the castle walls. They said Roman appeared like a literal savior. Right when the walls were on the verge of collapsing, Roman Dmitry attacked the enemy's rear alone and butchered Barco's soldiers. On top of that, he destroyed the Flare, completely turning the tide of the battle. If he hadn't shown up, Barco would’ve planted their flag in Lawrence's soil long ago."
Truth and fiction intertwined within the rumors, weaving an epic hero's tale as if passed down through generations. Just like those two gossiping men, people all over the northeast were singing Roman's praises.
"This war started with Roman Dmitry and ended with Roman Dmitry. Only those who were actually there know this, but when his vanguard, Chris, secured the first victory, the people of Lawrence thought they had won it all. But do you know who showed up next? Homeros. The 49th ranker of the Cairo Kingdom stepped forward as Barco's Great Warrior. The moment he revealed his name, Lawrence fell into utter despair. They thought that in an absolutely unwinnable fight, Roman would forfeit to save his own skin. But..."
The speaker wore a solemn expression. Squaring his shoulders, he spoke as if he were Roman himself.
"Roman Dmitry—no, the hero's decision was different. He proudly declared that he would step forward as the Great Warrior. And right before the eyes of countless onlookers, he took off Homeros' head with a single strike. Red blood sprayed across the sky... Ah! It was a masterpiece. Roman Dmitry, who had already led the siege to victory, put the final nail in the coffin during the Great Warrior Battle."
"...But I thought you said you weren't there."
"Well, no, but that's what my relatives told me! Anyway, long story short, Roman Dmitry is not 'The Fool of Dmitry' we used to know. Think about it. Subjugating Blood Fang, slapping a knight's face in Barco for the sake of his subordinate, and now this incident in Lawrence. The man is a hero. The Hidden Dragon that Dmitry kept so tightly under wraps has finally ascended to the heavens, and he's building his own legend, piece by piece."
The public was ecstatic.
Every single one of Roman's actions left a deep impression. The rumors spread so wildly that children running through the streets played "hero," fighting over who got to be Roman Dmitry.
But that wasn't all.
In the Great Warrior Battle, Lawrence had won three out of three matches. While Roman's impact was undeniably massive, the crucial detail was that the victors of the other two matches were also Roman's men.
"A true hero is blessed with the people around him. Chris, Dmitry's genius swordsman, defeated the 3-star Janson while only at the 2-star realm. And that kid who looked like a mere boy soldier? He completely butchered Barco's knight. Not a single person from Lawrence actually fought in the Great Warrior Battle. It was Roman's followers who volunteered to step up, proving their absolute loyalty to him in front of everyone. Things are going to get crazy from now on. It's been a long time since a talent capable of shocking the world emerged from the northeast."
Flora's prediction had been dead on.
Lawrence had achieved victory in this war at the cost of many sacrifices, but all the glory went to Roman. Yet, no one complained. In a battle where winners and losers were so starkly divided, the people of Lawrence knew all too well how fortunate they were to emerge as victors, even if they were left bearing scars.
* * *
It was over.
No other words could describe the current situation. Returning to his estate as a defeated remnant, Viscount Barco fell into despair at the harsh reality staring him in the face.
A heavy sigh escaped his lips.
On his desk, documents were piled as high as a mountain. Their contents were entirely predictable.
The Golden Bank demanded to know how he planned to repay the principal of his loan now that he had lost the territory war, while the Cairo Mercenary Guild, furious over Homeros' death, demanded exorbitant penalty fees. The mercenary guild's logic was utterly absurd. They claimed that when the request for the Great Warrior Battle was made, Barco had explicitly stated Lawrence only possessed 2-star knights, thereby shifting the responsibility for any unexpected variables entirely onto Barco.
In short, they were looking down on him.
Knowing that the Barco family would plunge into the abyss after this defeat, everyone was frantically trying to scavenge whatever they could.
Those miserable bastards.
He felt incredibly bitter. It wasn't just those two organizations looking down on Barco. His allies, the ones he thought would be throwing a victory party with him once the war ended, were completely silent. According to the rumors, some had already aligned themselves with Dmitry. It was a cold, harsh reality. When Barco reigned supreme as the powerhouse of the northeast, those same people had visited almost daily. Seeing them turn a blind eye so quickly was nauseating.
He wasn't ignorant of the true nature of alliances bound only by mutual interest. Viscount Barco himself had lived like a bat in the dark, shifting sides whenever it suited him. But now that he was the one being pushed off the cliff, he couldn't just laugh it off.
What on earth am I supposed to do?
The weight of defeat crushed his shoulders. He felt utterly lost.
He had no confidence in his ability to repay the mountain of debt, nor could he think of a single way to rise from this predicament. It was a war he had started with absolute certainty of victory. If only that damn Roman Dmitry hadn't intervened, Barco would surely have returned home in glory, drinking in the sweet taste of victory.
"Yes, this is all because of Roman Dmitry," he muttered. "He had no justification to intervene in this war, yet he showed up and ruined everything from start to finish. It makes absolutely no sense. In a noble society where justification is everything, Roman Dmitry committed an unforgivable act."
Roman.
Everything was because of him.
Viscount Barco's eyes darkened with resolve. For the cornered Barco family to survive, they had to drag Roman down with them.
This is my last chance.
He sprang up from his seat. To grasp his sole remaining hope, he had a lot of work to do.
* * *
Viscount Barco reached out to the nobles of the northeast—specifically, the ones who would still at least take his calls. Though they expressed reluctance, they granted him a single meeting after his earnest pleading.
A few days later, the nobles gathered at the Barco estate.
If this had been during Barco's peak, everyone except the pro-Dmitry faction would have attended. Now, however, fewer than ten nobles sat around the round table. It was a bleak reality. The decline of his family's standing was painfully obvious, but Viscount Barco straightened his back and addressed them anyway.
"Before we begin, I would like to express my deepest gratitude to all of you for visiting Barco. You are true nobles. Unlike those who turned their backs on us in an instant, ignoring our long-standing relationships for the sake of their own interests, your presence here reassures me that the future of the northeast is still bright."
"Ahem."
"Just get straight to the point."
The nobles in attendance did not welcome his flattery. They had only agreed to meet because their own relationships with Dmitry were poor, but they knew full well how risky it was to even be here.
Viscount Barco cleared his throat.
"I will get straight to the point, then. In conflicts between noble families, justification is of the utmost importance. Especially in a time when foreign invasions could strike at any moment, attacking neighboring territories out of mere greed is a clear violation of the rules of the noble world. Barco attacked Lawrence with a legitimate justification. It was to exact payment for our ancestors' debts, and the Central Government even sent an Arbiter, judging our cause to be just. Yet, Roman Dmitry intervened in the war without a shred of justification. Because of his surprise attack, Barco lost its Flare, and we were even subjected to the outrage of not a single warrior from Lawrence stepping forward during the Great Warrior Battle."
His voice grew louder, demanding empathy from the nobles as he hammered his point home.
"Does this make any sense? By what right does Roman Dmitry aid Lawrence? If the two families had been bound by blood or marriage, there would be no issue. However, Lawrence clearly announced that the engagement was canceled, and that the fault lay with Flora Lawrence. Roman Dmitry is a complete stranger to Lawrence. No justification exists in this world for him to help them. This is crossing the line! Even though we had many allies we could have called upon, we fought solely with Barco's strength until the very end to maintain our honor as nobles. And because we upheld that honor, we had no choice but to taste the bitterness of defeat."
"He is right."
"Indeed. Roman Dmitry had no justification."
They murmured in agreement. It wasn't a false claim, after all. Intervention without justification deserved punishment, and this was an issue that could easily be brought to public light.
I don't expect the Dmitry family to fall because of this, Viscount Barco thought. But at the very least, we can hold them accountable and demand a massive sum in compensation. That alone will be enough. With the Dmitry family's wealth, we can resolve the debt we owe to the Golden Bank.
The Golden Bank.
It was his most urgent problem. While disputes with the Cairo Mercenary Guild could be resolved through negotiation, the Golden Bank was a ruthless organization when it came to recovering their coin. If Barco failed to repay the principal, they would crush the Barco family down to their very bones.
One noble leaned forward. "So, what do you propose we do?"
Opinions were aligning. Just seeing the reluctant nobles show interest let Viscount Barco know his words had hit the mark. Starting with the people gathered in this room, he planned to draw empathy from the surrounding territories and build a collective voice loud enough to pressure Dmitry.
"First..."
Bang!
The door to the conference room suddenly burst open. Viscount Barco glared at the interrupting soldier with deep irritation, but the soldier, his face entirely drained of color, could only stammer out, "R-Roman Dmitry... He has come to see you, My Lord!"
The room fell dead silent.
It was a completely unexpected situation. It made no sense. Roman Dmitry was the architect of their defeat. For him to visit the Barco estate right now was practically walking into the jaws of a beast, begging to be killed.
What on earth is he thinking?
The nobles gathered in the conference room exchanged bewildered glances. Faced with this unforeseen turn of events, no one knew how to react.
"So, you were all gathered here."
It was Roman. Ignoring the frantic attempts of the anxious soldiers trying to hold him back, Roman strolled into the conference room with a perfectly calm expression.
In that fleeting moment, Viscount Barco seriously contemplated his options.
Should I kill him?
He was already pushed to the edge anyway. He wanted to exact his revenge even if it meant striking Roman down right here and now, but doing so would destroy his last hope of using justification as leverage. He had to endure, even with the object of his unbridled wrath standing right before his eyes. As Viscount Barco desperately suppressed his boiling rage and glared in silence, Roman made his way inside and sat down directly across from him.
Thud.
No one had offered him a seat. Yet, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Roman sat opposite Viscount Barco, leaned back in his chair, and casually crossed his legs.
"I heard you have a lot of grievances against me."
Roman lazily brushed a thumb across his lips. Then, looking straight into Viscount Barco's eyes with a faint smile, he spoke.
"Then tell me directly. With what justification did Barco arrange a gathering like this?"