Chapter 283
Chapter 283
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 283
Chapter Title: The Hawk Takes Flight (4)
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The moment they stepped into the market alley together, Kirhas couldn't hide her excitement, practically bouncing with joy until Fernandez finally said something, at which point she managed to compose herself.
"Kirhas."
"Yes! Benefactor!"
"There are a lot of eyes around."
"It's fine! How would anyone know who I...?"
"Everyone knows. This is the cradle of Ironside."
"Oh...!"
Her face flushed red as she realized she was undermining the great chieftain's authority in real time, and she began awkwardly trying to act dignified. She fumbled for her pipe with trembling hands but quickly pulled back when she saw Fernandez's face.
"You can smoke."
"I've... quit!"
"That's a good choice for your health."
Of course, there was no need to tell her that in his past life, despite being a heavy smoker, she had lived to a ripe old age. He was used to the smell of burning herbs, but the smoke from Demonica tobacco was quite stimulating to their sensitive noses.
Whenever Kirhas felt eyes on her, she shot a fierce glare in that direction, scaring off the onlookers. Even the roughest sailors backed away hesitantly when faced with her unique aura and presence.
Enjoying the cleared space amid the resulting chaos, Fernandez walked alongside her, taking the market snacks she handed him.
"The skewers here are pretty good!"
"I see."
"Do they suit your taste? Then how about that drink over there...? What is that? Benefactor, do you know what it is?"
"It's Amur tea. A Kirzat beverage."
"Is it... tasty?"
"Who knows? Let's go try it."
At his words, Kirhas dashed to the stall. In the meantime, Fernandez leisurely strolled through the market with his hands behind his back, scanning the surroundings. He could feel very overt stares from every corner.
Aside from that, it was a typical bustling port city food market. Ingredients from all over the world overflowed, most citizens looked well-fed and prosperous, smiling as they went about. Merchants occasionally argued with flushed faces, but it never escalated to violence.
Unusual for a port. Ports tended to attract rougher crowds than inland markets—dealing with sailors and traders often led to brawls.
Yet this city's people were remarkably docile. What that suggested was clear: ironclad control. And the resulting impeccable public order. Not just military might, but perfect governance.
Ironside's doing, no doubt. The citizens knew of Ironside's presence. The hidden spies watching them instilled a enforced civic awareness.
*Ideal.*
Fernandez thought with a short chuckle. An ideal city. Freedom inevitably bred indulgence and corruption, and corrupt cities always crawled with maggots like heretics and cultists.
Robert's rigorous self-discipline manifested in the city's very shape. It was a social experiment: could citizens love their overseer—their lord—under total surveillance?
*Cruel. Cold.*
-Wise.
Feizashi and Fernandez nodded agreeably. Then a low voice came from behind him.
"How do you like the city tour?"
"Impressive."
"High praise?"
"Of course."
He didn't bother turning to confirm the man's face. No need. Far off, Kirhas was coming back with two drinks, spotted them, froze in surprise, then hurried back to the vendor.
"The greatest lord isn't one who makes his people happy. It's the one who makes them *think* they're happy."
"Similar to what my uncle used to say. But he added one more thing."
"What was that?"
"Don't pursue the happiness of the absolute majority. Hide the misery of the minority."
"Was your uncle Ironside?"
"I inherited his seat."
Robert chuckled softly. Fernandez glanced around anew. The citizens who had been peeking now studiously ignored them, as if they weren't there.
The people here loved their lord. But perhaps even more, they feared him. A ruler's authority balanced indulgence and terror—and Robert was close to the ideal.
"Shall we go somewhere quieter and more comfortable?"
"Sure. Kirhas!"
"Yes! Oh, yes! One moment! Yes, yes. Benefactor!"
Realizing secrecy was pointless, Kirhas grabbed two more cups almost by force from the vendor and rushed back. She caught her breath and distributed the four cups of drinks.
"This one's yours, Benefactor... This is for you. Tremule Court Viscount. And this... yours."
"My thanks for the kindness, lady."
The man beside Robert bowed, face reddening. Noble etiquette, but it revealed the youth's worth. Accompanying Robert yet unaware of Kirhas's identity meant he wasn't a major figure.
"There's a great fish place nearby. The great chieftain will approve."
"Oh. Oh. Yes. I mean, sure!"
No longer bothering with pretense, Kirhas put on a stern face.
"I didn't realize the great chieftain had an interest in lowly market taverns."
"Isn't it a virtue of a ruler?"
Robert grinned and led the way. A ruler's virtue, indeed. Using even a market tavern as a front for his agents meant he cared about public opinion.
* * *
The tavern was packed. At least until they opened the door.
Sailors drinking and shouting in broad daylight, gloomy merchants, foreigners chattering in unknown tongues—all fell silent at Robert's entrance.
Robert strode forward wordlessly. They were led without fanfare to the deepest table—the only empty one.
"Fish dishes."
"Yes, my lord."
He whispered, and a kitchen hand bowed deeply before vanishing. Catching Fernandez's gaze, Robert smirked.
"Right. This is my spot. Honored to serve you myself. This is Empire Ironside. Graysircle headquarters."
"Information safe for outsiders?"
"Every intelligence agency knows what this place is. But knowing changes nothing—they can't touch it, so they look away."
Robert's smile brimmed with confidence. He glanced at the flustered Kirhas and said coolly,
"If the great chieftain wishes, we could partner on spy training for the beastkin federation?"
"No need."
"You're raising her too softly, Lord Cerned."
"Choose your words carefully next time, Tremule Court Viscount."
Fernandez's icy warning sharpened the air. Ironside agents in the lobby glared fiercely. Robert waved them off and smiled.
"My apologies, Lord Cerned. Tired of circling? Shall we get to business?"
"Yes."
They'd exchanged enough imperial noble metaphors and mind games. Fernandez nodded, and Robert sat beside him, reaching to a nearby Kirzat merchant who silently handed over a document envelope.
"Results on what you 'requested' last time."
"...Already?"
"Ironside knows all information worth knowing. And only spares those not worth killing."
Dismissing Robert's breezy laugh, Fernandez tore open the envelope. Simple code he knew—but the contents were anything but.
What he'd asked Robert: In the distant southwest endless plains, Pale Horsemen territory—find the Amar clan and kill one boy under ten.
The most dangerous living being. A move against future Karadskar. The Pale Horsemen lands rivaled the Empire's vastness; finding one person was impossible for Fernandez alone.
But Ironside? Worth a shot. Their network spanned even rival Kirzat, prime trade partner for the Horsemen.
"And you'd best believe it. Only one Amar Turgjin exists."
Amar Turgjin. The great khan later called Karadskar. He united fallen clans, forged the Pale Horsemen tribes into the Yeke Tetai Ulus—Great Tetai Empire.
A bit later, and the Amar would have fallen as in original history, making child Turgjin untouchable.
It was a back-burner op, but with Empire secured and Ironside leverage now, too good to pass.
Yet... possible? He'd thought so when assigning, but even now, with confirmation, he doubted the report.
*I'd believe Darian assassinated first.*
Darian Shrike was Empire's strongest during Karadskar's heyday, still Emperor's eyes. He'd targeted him during the northern push.
Twilight of his prime, sure—but casually succeeding where Empire's best failed? Fernandez set down the report dubiously.
"When was this?"
"Assassination three months ago. Report arrived ten days back. Waited after learning you headed to Gurr."
"Then it failed."
"...What?"
Three months ago? Assume failure. World's end prophecy was less than a month old.
His past life's Karadskar hadn't ended the world. But Black Erik and Great Khan Karadskar's invasions sparked the apocalypse—undeniable.
Current civilization had preserved nearly all strength. No altered history sans northern push and Erik's naval war left another world-ender.
But unprovable without past life tales. Robert's eyes sharpened.
"Doubting me? Ironside disguise arts are near-perfect. Can't infiltrate any group? And why fear a brat so? Pale Horsemen are just nomads, numbers or no."
"Boys ride at five, master knight-beating horsemanship by ten—tens of thousands. Nomads convert headcount to army seamlessly. Naturally cautious."
"Unlike beastkin. They've never formed a state. Savages who never allied beyond one clan."
"Exactly why be cautious. Beastkin potential predictable—history of empires. Pale Horsemen... Tetai? Unknowable. No metrics if they unite and march."
Robert scowled and shook his head. Fernandez stopped persuading. Time to command.
"Forget the assassination. I'll repay your 'favor' as a 'kindness.' But one more request: Set up a regular intel pipeline into Pale Horsemen lands. Fortnightly updates on their situation."
"...Manpower short for Empire ops as is."
"I can handle that."
"Those Paltennoia rabble surprisingly competent in the east to wilds?"
"At least that range. Yes."
"...Fine. Then it's an intel trade. Details to your men later. Now, your 'kindness.'"
Robert leaned back, pointing to the rigid youth terrified by the exchange.
"Introduce: Duke Bares, Jean Albre. King of La Mertion, Empire's lawful elector."
"Jean... Jean Albre de Bares... sir... P-pleased to meet you!"
Fernandez glanced at the frozen youth and sighed.
"You want Vicente's troops withdrawn."
"...!!"
Just from introduction, he'd pierced the goal.
"Obvious. La Mertion occupied by Dane of the Eastern Kingdom. Introducing him now? No other reason. You know I'm Dane royal Round Table knight, Tremule Viscount."
"R-Round Table knight?"
Empire-style: akin to high council noble. Kingdom's authoritarian bent amplified it.
Jean straightened, pleading earnestly.
"La Mertion's my home, ancient Thousand Empire city, vital Silk Road nexus..."
"Not interested in history. I'll dispatch to Dane royals."
"...That simple...?"
"I showed Vicente 'kindness' before. Unless he's turned hostile, he'll comply."
Jean eyed his friend skeptically. Robert shrugged.
"Told you. Easy."
"How so effortlessly...? Can we trust him?"
"The man you call 'him' led disgraced Vicente back to power, gifting kingship for Round Table seat. I said it: 'Untouchable.'"
Jean swallowed hard. Fernandez eyed Robert sourly.
"Untouchable?"
"Your new moniker."
"...Worse than the last."
"Nicknames grow with deeds, no?"
"Ironside needs nickname sense lessons."
Kingmaker to Untouchable. Fernandez hated the creepy ring. Feizashi whispered.
-Fernandez's Upset.
"Shut it."
-Fernandez's Guided Spear.
"We agreed no."
-Fernandez's Denial.
"Oh, please."
Ignoring Feizashi's cackle, Fernandez told Robert,
"Nickname aside. Next deal?"
"Waiting. Speak."
"Hunt elves for me. Elf fleet."
"Not... hard. Which royal house?"
"Gaimern. Use my name, request audience—they'll bite."
"Infermur connections? Fine."
Overhearing the nation-race transcending talk, Jean grew terrified. No betrayal planned, but if needed, suicide seemed easier.
Averting eyes, he met the beastkin beauty's gaze as she filleted fish at table's corner. She smiled sweetly.
"Mine."
"..."
"Want some? Order more."
"Y-yes, sir."
Staring at her serene dining amid the mad talk, Jean suddenly wanted to flee.