Chapter 273
Chapter 273
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 273
Chapter Title: Holy Revaanteir Empire (4)
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A few relatively peaceful weeks passed. While Everis pretended to faint about seven times to shirk her duties, and Zephys declared that "perfect purification measures" had been implemented in more than half of the capital. Rene and Guire's forces entered the capital.
A long procession of triumphant troops marched through the northern gate of Paltennoia. Fernandez stood on the balcony of the imperial palace, where reconstruction had begun, preparing to greet them.
"Sir Fernin. The young lady is arriving."
"Sir Borea. Duchess Rene Filippa de Carvelier is no longer a 'young lady.'"
Fernandez cut Sir Borea's words short. The knights of Libye still called Rene "duchess." It stemmed from their refusal to accept Duke Erv's death and their anxiety over the still-young duchess.
But now, they had to accept it. Erv was dead, Rene Filippa had become Elector, and she was about to become emperor.
-Bam-pa-ba-bam! Bam!
The military band led the way, blaring a raucous marching tune. Citizens scattered flower petals over them. It was the survival instinct of the capital's people. In this situation, with Libye's legions surrounding the capital, they knew what it meant for Libye's elector to head to the palace.
Fernandez watched the citizens showering petals from the balcony, hiding his fear behind a smile. Was the new emperor to be a tyrant or a sage ruler? He could read that kind of inevitable dread in their eyes.
At that moment, Freya, standing beside him, burst out laughing. "Pffahaha!"
"That's all money! Can you believe it? People buy those petals!"
"All of them...?"
"Yeah! I personally distributed those petals to every merchant guild in this city! The goddess is no longer the goddess of life and spring... The goddess has become the goddess of wealth!"
That would make the Maclaren Church gasp in horror. Fernandez chuckled and shrugged. Freya slapped his back.
"So cheer up. You won't starve to death, will you? This goddess will feed the likes of you!"
"That's very kind of you."
Thanks to her, the tension eased. Even the Libye knights, Everis, and Fernandez, who had overheard the exchange. The group watched the approaching army in a somewhat relaxed atmosphere.
Massive military standards, emblazoned with the seals of Tremule and Carvelier—the two electors—advanced in formation.
* * *
"I commend your efforts."
Those were Rene Filippa's first words upon arriving at the inner courtyard of the Carvelier mansion. After circling the palace grounds once, she headed straight to the mansion where her vassals had gathered.
Rene and Robert stood on the dais, looking down at the lined-up vassals. Her eyes were dry with fatigue from the long march.
"From the late king's first war to his final struggle. Knights who stood firm with him through all the hardships, safeguarding Libye. I thank you for your efforts."
Rene addressed the knights one by one. "Late king." It was a term implying Duke Erv's death and declaring that she had inherited Libye's throne. The knights closed their eyes and bowed their heads in silence.
"I may not be the greatest lord you have ever had. Especially for those who remember the late king's reign. But, my vassals. I make you two promises. First. There will be no days harder than the past few months you endured..."
The months when the domain nearly fell, the emperor coveted Libye, and cults infiltrated deep into the territory's heart. Every moment had demanded wars for survival, throwing them into desperate battles.
Before the electoral council convened, while all electors still bared their teeth at one another. Her words signaled her intent to challenge for the throne.
"Second. You will never have to serve another lord. I have no intention of dying until the youngest and most inexperienced among you grows old and retires. Until you all depart this world for the halls of valor beyond, I will be the shadow that protects you. You, the heroes of Libye. In return for these two promises, I ask but one thing."
[Loyalty]. The same weight of loyalty they had given to Duke Erv, late king. Not the transactional fealty of Libye's law nobles, but the willing devotion of the greatsword nobles.
Beyond mutual vassal-lord bonds, true, heartfelt fealty to one sovereign. As Rene paused after saying that, the eyes of the knights in the courtyard gleamed.
All of them were elites who had crossed through hells with Duke Erv from the Fifty Years' War to now, the youngest even having served as a field commander in that war. Knights of lofty honor and immense pride.
-Thud!
They knelt on one knee in unison, slamming their longswords into the courtyard stone.
"For Libye!"
"For Carvelier!"
"For the Holy Revaanteir Empire!"
And the final words echoed through the courtyard.
"Long live the Emperor."
No thanks or commendations were needed. Rene nodded curtly and turned to leave the courtyard. The knights did not move until she had fully departed.
* * *
"So, you must have a plan, Sir Fernin?"
The cold, authoritative expression vanished the moment she entered the drawing room. Rene grinned and sprawled across a chair.
Home sweet home, indeed. After months of charging across battlefields, she was no longer the weak, naive ducal lady. As a fully realized elector and duke, she tilted her head with a smirk.
"What plan?"
"My first speech to my vassals. I basically declared I'd become emperor. What happens if I fail to get the votes in council?"
You're the one who first claimed the throne, so wrap it up nicely. Rene grinned shamelessly. Fernandez didn't dislike her like this.
-Now that's the Carvelier Empress.
-'Never met her in person, though.'
In his past life, he'd exchanged official diplomatic letters with the Carvelier Empress a few times. Her personality from between the lines was, bluntly put, that of a tyrant.
Frank, direct, unpretentious. Not virtues of an emperor, but of a warlord. And in those chaotic times, a sage couldn't survive. The empire had the emperor best suited to it.
Heroine. Unyielding and unrumpled even against hell's demons as humanity faced its end. Charging ahead to protect her land and people. That tyrant's visage now overlaid her face.
-'No such thing as fate. But times like this make it feel real.'
-Fate would mean the world's end. Let's hope not, at least.
Feizashi cackled. After that brief reflection, Fernandez leisurely sipped his tea and spoke.
"Just stay put."
"Huh...? What did you say?"
"Just stay put. As quietly as possible, without doing a thing."
"The electors are talking about convening the council soon. Even Tremule's court chamberlain is pushing for it quickly."
"Of course, sooner is better. You need to rule before the empire's foundations shatter completely. But for now, staying put is enough."
Rene Filippa's public image was "unpredictable." The sheltered daughter of a lifelong field commander had suddenly led wars, even commanding privateer fleets to raid and strike everywhere.
Then the emperor antagonized her father, but he defended that emperor; the emperor's son rebelled against him, and Rene allied with that prince. A chain of impossibilities by common sense.
Thus, the electors were on high alert, wary of her. Now inheriting the Carvelier duchy, no single warlord in the empire matched her military might.
-'They can't even form an anti-duke faction among electors.'
With the emperor's corruption officially declared by the pope, pro-emperor nobles had no choice but to lay low. Heresy trials could hit their domains and houses anytime.
So, for the electors, it was maddening. What is that woman? What does she want? How did things twist this far? As suspicions piled up—
-'Don't overinflate the unknown.'
Fear breeds phantoms. Human imagination magnifies the unknown. Her known allies: Tremule immediately, the Beitasser Church, and the western great plains warlords. What else? How far did her political reach extend?
Maybe all other electors except him had already allied with her?
Fernandez smiled and spread a blank sheet on the table. Scratch, scratch. He began writing boldly.
"There are eight electors in the empire."
Bumlang's Sephor ducal house.
Libye's Carvelier ducal house.
Guire's Tremule court chamberlain house.
He circled the three largely, linking them.
"Bumlang has fallen to puppet status under Hearttaker great chieftain. The young Sephor duke is essentially a figurehead without real vote. That's one vote. Yours makes two. Count Robert makes three."
Three votes secured—nearly half. But that wasn't enough. The throne's stability depended on electoral support. For Rene to build true absolute monarchy later, she needed total victory.
Like the late emperor, who inherited unanimously and waged the Fifty Years' War.
"La Mertion's Bares ducal house is extinct."
King Vicente I of Dane Kingdom, the Knight King. La Mertion fell to him. If the empire were united, it would have sparked a massive war with the east, but now it was a desultory, loose conflict.
"Four remain. Three can be called pro-emperor."
Zhangsong's Blancfleur margrave house.
Dian's Poitiers ducal house.
Trua's Arnang marquess house.
Pro-emperor electors, with feet deep in the emperor's ventures. Some corrupted, some seduced by power and wealth.
No certainty without proper investigation, and stirring them now was impossible. Hornets' nests too risky to touch.
"Any among them without grudge against you?"
"None. I've raided their vassal territories at least once each."
"In that case. What should you do now?"
"...What?"
"Stay quiet. Until they come crawling first."
With the central emperor gone, those three electors were likely hunkering down, trying to gauge the situation. Who is foe, who ally? Carvelier duchess's ascension seems inevitable—what now?
Electors never bend first. It's not pride; it's capital logic. Showing weakness first means no high price.
Rene Filippa probably wanted an overwhelming victory rivaling the late emperor's. Obvious, really. A rebel leader turned victor would be compared to his reign.
Naturally, they'd wait for her to open negotiations. But no. It won't happen. Silence reigns until the electoral council.
Then, in that anxious quiet, the wedge strikes.
"And add one line to the negotiation terms with the pope."
"What is it?"
"Mass heresy investigations."
"But... touching electors before the election does no good. If they declare independence, it'll be a disaster."
"We'll calibrate so it doesn't go that far. Heresy investigations, but not aimed at electors. Target the cults lurking within their domains."
"You think that's easy? Catching hidden cult groups right on cue? Failure means political backlash. The pope's authority falls too."
"Don't worry. It'll succeed for sure."
Fernandez pulled a scroll from his bosom and held it up. Rene took it absentmindedly, read, and froze.
"This is... all...?"
"The bases and sizes of cult groups infiltrated into the empire."
"The Inquisition already mapped this much? Why not purge them till now?"
"Ah, there's a newly formed specialist group. This intel is fresh off the press. Even the pope and the Inquisition's abbot don't know yet."
Strictly, the Maladica was still an unsanctioned illegal group, but useful fellows nonetheless. Fernandez grinned.
"Adding that term would be perfect."
"What?"
"Marry Robert Benatie Tremule court chamberlain's sister to one excommunicated priest."
No one in the church doubted Zephys's piety. If he had a child, it'd be a Beitasser follower for sure.
And Everis technically held high noble succession rights. If Robert died without heirs, her descendants could inherit.
Thus, the pope gains two secular electors sitting idle: Tremule court chamberlain and Carvelier duke. Tempting for papal influence in secular affairs.
"Set that as a term, and the pope will risk it. He'll scour those three domains thoroughly. That's it. You sit back, and the pro-emperor electors will bend and come crawling themselves."
"Not forgiving them, I hope?"
"Once you secure the throne, what follows is history's domain, no? No need to worry about reputation."
"I like it."
Rene grinned and nodded, carefully tucking away the report bundle Fernandez handed her. Then, suddenly:
"Oh, about Countess Everis. She agreed to the marriage?"
Even a powerful elector can't meddle freely in another elector's family affairs. But Fernandez chuckled.
"Of course."
"That... excommunicated priest too?"
"Does that matter?"
"Well, no, it doesn't."
Gazing at Fernandez's malice-laced smile, Rene mirrored it. She cleared the table and extended her hand. Her white hand hovered before him.
"Let's marry too."
"With a few conditions. Sure."
"Conditions?"
"No bedding. No emotions. No meddling in each other's actions."
"That's worse than friends."
"Isn't marriage like that?"
With those words, Fernandez took her hand. Rene winced slightly and muttered, "That's not it."