Chapter 225
Chapter 225
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 225
Chapter Title: Handling the Aftermath (2)
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Duke Erb wore a faintly faded smile as he looked down at his retainers. It was the kind of smile that said this was more than enough. The retainers had been raising their voices for a full hour already.
"So what are you saying we should do!"
"We have to cut off the envoy's head!"
"Point a sword at the imperial family without justification? What a brilliant idea. How grand! Why not suggest we all bite the sword and topple over together while you're at it!"
"How dare you!"
It went something like that. The circumstances clearly pointed to the imperial family's doing—having barely overcome the heretics' uprising and assassination threat, the grand ambition to unite and govern Revue was dissolving into bubbles amid the retainers' arguments.
"My heart aches."
Kirhas, lounging languidly at the duke's side, smirked as she spoke. When the duke turned his head while sipping his wine, Kirhas clinked her glass against his.
"Well, they're not kids anymore. Getting attached just because we fought together—that's even more childish."
"They've grown that attached already, which is why they're like this."
"If they get attached twice over, we'll have a war on our hands."
"They're worried about me, Great Chieftain. Ever since you thwarted that assassination attempt. They've been like this nonstop since then."
The battle had ended in an instant, right at the break of dawn. The skeletons crumbled away as if they'd never been, and the surviving soldiers raised cheers of victory.
And in that chaos, the vampire that had charged right up to the duke's side met its end, decapitated by Kirhas's longsword. From then until the return. From seeing the ruined palace to checking on his daughter's safety, and up to now.
The duke's retainers had begun debating how Revue should weather this crisis going forward. As with most such debates, no conclusions were reached around the conference table.
"What do you want to do, Your Grace?"
"Fight."
The duke spoke plainly as he looked down at his retainers. They had ceased their squabbling sometime ago, now leaning in to hear his words.
"If it were just me, it might be different. But the emperor laid hands on my retainers, my household, and my family. Do you think he won't do it again? Of course we have to stand and fight."
"But, Your Grace!!"
One knight dropped to his knees and shouted.
"The barony's forces can never match the central legions. If civil war breaks out, we must first win over the other great lords to oppose them—please reconsider!"
"Do we have proof? We need evidence that the emperor orchestrated this to convince the other feudatories! Your Grace! We must execute the imperial envoy and lodge a formal complaint with the Church!"
"Do you think the Church will seriously investigate our complaint? This isn't some petty noble from a backwater state. We're talking about interrogating the emperor of the Empire! What pope, what church would step forward rashly?"
Right, that was the problem. Erb gave a bitter smile. Circumstantially, this whole plot was the emperor's doing. No one else could devise and execute a scheme on this scale. But that was just circumstantial evidence.
Even if there were hard proof. Even if, by some miracle, they secured a decree stamped with the emperor's seal, the imperial family would claim it was forged. And the Church wouldn't side with a great lord on the brink of ruin to attack the imperial administration.
All the churches of the Holy Pantheon had declared complete neutrality in secular politics. That sacred declaration from the Tenth Council of Erlem had held firm for over four hundred years without a single violation.
It was a satisfactory conclusion for both the churches and the nobles. The churches elevated their authority and gained respect from the powerful. Thereafter, when the churches judged or excommunicated rulers, it was seen as a matter of religion, not politics.
And the rulers welcomed it too—the nobles of each kingdom and royal house. Before that, secular society had been mired in chaos backed by religion. They had no desire to revisit the territorial wars and civil strife waged under the banner of faith and doctrine.
For the four hundred years since, religion and the secular world had drawn a clear line. And when secular monarchs leaned on religion, the churches measured the balance of political power with astonishingly cold impartiality.
In such a situation, hoping the Church would side with Revue and punish the emperor was nothing but a pipe dream. A monarch must face reality, not hope, and make decisions. Erb raised his glass and spoke.
"You're all right. But executing the envoy rashly would be too hasty. When the envoy arrives, we'll receive them with due courtesy. We'll hear their words and discern their true intentions. We can decide our course after that—it's not too late."
Let's hold off for now. Kirhas frowned as she listened to the duke. She hated politicians. Cowards who wouldn't budge until they had their justifications...
'I need to get back quick and get some praise.'
She'd done her best. Thwarted the assassination and won the battle. On Fernandez's orders! But when she returned, the duke's daughter had suddenly opposed her entering the palace.
'My silver lord... My favorite concubine is unwell... If she's sick, shouldn't I be there, naturally!'
'Is the Great Chieftain skilled in medicine?'
'...No?'
'Revue has excellent physicians and apothecaries. Don't worry, Great Chieftain—join my father at the council.'
'Uh...'
'Or does the Great Chieftain have someone among her household more skilled than Revue's physicians?'
The wildland tribes equated medicine almost entirely with shamanism. While studying at the Inquisition, she'd learned how advanced modern medicine had become. The beastfolk's medicine was little more than folk superstition!
Recalling the tribal shamans who ground herbs and animal bones into water mixed with beast bile, she shook her head weakly.
'It... wouldn't be entirely ineffective.'
'Then leave it to our reliable physicians and join the military council, Great Chieftain. Wouldn't that be best for Revue and the Tiger Clan Alliance?'
At those words, Kirhas had slunk back dejectedly. Could a Demonica even get sick? Didn't her silver lord just resurrect? No, could her silver lord even get sick?
And yet, even now, he wasn't calling for her... Did her silver lord have some other plan?
Such thoughts tangled in her mind. If Fernandez truly needed her, he'd have come to the front lines instead of his sickbed. That's the kind of man he was. If he was sitting still, it meant he was advancing some other scheme.
And if he needed her for that plan, he'd have summoned her. So if her silver lord wasn't calling for her now, maybe he wanted her at the council.
'Ugh... Silver lord. I hate these meetings.'
Kirhas let her tail droop and raised her glass. As languidly as possible, with the iciest expression. The beastfolk warriors in the council hall gazed at her in their usual admiration.
As expected of the Great Chieftain—holding firm even in this chaos!
Haha, that's the bearing of a true powerhouse. Any lord of the wildlands must carry themselves like that!
With their glasses, such talk went back and forth. By beastfolk tradition, councils were little different from banquets. And at least here, they were the only ones fully enjoying the feast.
* * *
At that very hour, Fernandez lay in bed. He had been virtually confined to this bedrest for a full day.
"I'm perfectly fine now."
"I saw you coughing up blood. Do you think I'll believe that? Don't worry. The barony's apothecaries are very, very capable. Now, drink this all down..."
"Serrice grass, hadam leaf, and parsla mixed together. A febrifuge and relaxant. My lady, if we're being precise, for internal injuries, an anti-inflammatory would be the proper prescription."
"Uh... Are you acquainted with our apothecaries...?"
"I could tell by the smell."
"You analyzed the pharmaceutical components by scent?"
Even a dog couldn't do that... Rene whispered, somewhat flustered. Fernandez chuckled and sat up slightly. Whether a Demonica's nose surpassed a dog's hadn't been verified. But it was hardly inferior at detecting specific traces.
One of the basic requisites for a black mage was alchemy and pharmaceutical knowledge. Given the fieldwork environment where most reagents had to be made on the spot, black mages needed expertise rivaling any apothecary.
Fernandez was a man who had spent half his life as a Wildcast. He often disguised himself as an apothecary when slipping into villages. Like when he first met Aria.
"You really can do anything."
"Many things, no."
"I'm curious, Sir Cerned. What are you worst at?"
Rene giggled as she perched on the edge of the bed. Fernandez took the fruit plate from her hand and picked up a piece.
"Resting like this."
"You lack composure, it seems. Unexpectedly cute?"
"Answering such remarks."
"Being taciturn is quite alluring. I like it."
"Off-topic conversation."
"That relentless focus on the core. So enterprising. Nice."
"......"
"Ahaha."
Fernandez munched on the fruit without a word. The late-spring strawberries were very sweet. Rene brushed back her hair and spoke softly.
"I washed those myself."
"Doesn't seem like a duke's daughter's duty."
"The attendants are busy with palace cleanup. Isn't this noblesse oblige?"
"Good attitude. But I want to discuss something else."
"I have so many questions too. Shall we take turns?"
"I'll go first. What is it you want?"
Fernandez set down the plate as he spoke. Rene looked a bit startled, then grinned mischievously.
"Saying that to a sheltered maiden? How rude."
"We're in the same boat."
"Music to my ears. And?"
"So, showing me favor yields little return for the effort. I'm already in your pocket."
"...That's rather cold. Fine. And?"
"Thus, the attitude you've shown me is improper. Simple fondness, or the Church's authority—either way, good results are unlikely."
Rene's expression hardened briefly at Fernandez's polite refusal. She cleared her throat and turned her gaze to the window.
"Shall we start with why the Church's authority is hard to obtain?"
"The Church can't intervene directly. Especially Beitasser's church—they're too preoccupied with the eastern kingdoms' situation. If you're counting on Church support, abandon that thought. To seriously pursue an imperial heresy investigation, you need a foundation to bear the risks."
"Does that mean opposing the imperial family without Church support?"
"Buy time."
"Time... you say?"
Fernandez rubbed his brow and continued. Rene found herself unable to look away from his face.
"Using the Great Chieftain's legions to make Revue a stronghold, you could hold even against three great lords pressing at once."
"Didn't you say her legions are split in a civil war? That she came to our barony for rear support?"
"The wildlands' civil war and rebels can be sorted with enough time. Support can come from elsewhere. But it requires time and resolve. And a proposal Duke Erb would hardly welcome."
"What is it?"
"The sultan's support."
Fernandez lowered his hand from his brow and met Rene's eyes. She froze like stone. In the recent war against the sultan, Duke Erb had served as supreme commander and given his all.
Which, from the sultan's perspective, made him an enemy chief worth tearing apart. And now, sultan's support?
"Lavirata is hostile to foreign powers, and the sultan wants new trade routes improved. The entire western continent beyond the wasteland is already under his sway. His only other outlet is the great wildlands and beyond."
"Do you think the sultan would help Revue?"
To the outside world, the current sultan, Al'Hashr, was a warmonger. The western unification wars inherited from his forebears had concluded in his reign, and he craved more territory.
The only force that could oppose his expansion was the Empire. For fifty years, the Empire had clashed with the sultan in the wasteland.
Now, to tell the war's supreme commander to accept the sultan's support—it would be the utmost insult. A betrayal of his entire life, and imperial opinion would brand him worse than a traitor.
"Attacking the imperial family with foreign aid—even if successful—leaves no future. I didn't think you unaware of that..."
"Didn't I say the Church would back the duke against the imperial family only if he has a base to handle the risks?"
"You mean... the sultan as that base?"
"The sultan's undying legions, the great wildlands' tiger clan warlords. With them, you could challenge the Empire itself. Force is secured—what remains is justification..."
Fernandez smiled darkly.
"Justification and public opinion wars are the Church's specialty, after all."
A chill wind blew. Rene shivered as she stared at the young man before her. Youthful noble features, a sturdy body scarred beyond his looks. To any observer, a capable knight and nothing more or less.
But those eyes. Those blue eyes that had drawn her gaze from their first meeting... Rene turned her head away.
"You gave two reasons. I've heard one."
"Two?"
"The two reasons you can't accept the duke's daughter's favor. What's the first? It can't just be simple fondness. Am I lacking charm?"
"I have a son."
At those words, Rene dropped the teacup she held.