Chapter 320
Chapter 320
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 320
Chapter Title: War of the Puppets (17)
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Crows wheeled through the sky beneath the sunset. After the battle had ended, in this moment when the hot blood of the soldiers cooled to chill, it was their time. Rene gazed blankly at the crows and thought.
Corpse crows are not symbols of death, but of life. They arrive after the fiercest moments of death have passed, when the living finally exhale in relief. How enviable that is.
“What are you thinking about, Your Majesty?”
“Speak freely. The Empire owes you all a debt today.”
“Haha, anyone overhearing might think we came alone. The Kingdom of Dane merely answered Your Majesty’s call for aid by dispatching troops—nothing more, nothing less.”
Vicente chuckled brightly as he raised his teacup. Dried flecks of enemy blood still clung to his cheeks. Rene met the eyes of this sturdy young man head-on and smiled back.
“What can I offer you in return? Would you call this a transaction?”
“Who knows? Something might come of it. Otherwise, our royal house would be in a bit of a bind.”
“You’re an honest man.”
“Let’s call it balancing the scales of the world.”
Rene couldn’t help but chuckle at his pointed jest. With everyone else so scheming, at least he was genuine enough to even things out. What a witty fellow. She shook her head.
“Do you not resent me? Any other royal house might understand, but your bloodline has every reason to resent the Empire.”
“All those I should resent are dead. If anything, Your Majesty avenged me by proxy.”
“On behalf of the Empire, I wish to apologize. For the suffering my predecessor’s depravity caused your late king—and you.”
“There’s no need. Those responsible are gone, and we here must discuss not past mistakes, but future duties.”
“You’re quite the orator.”
Rene could scarcely believe the young man before her was the Knight King of the eastern kingdoms. What she saw now was a modest, easygoing country knight.
Just hours ago, the lion-like majesty of the Knight King who had carved through the enemy ranks was nowhere to be found here.
Rene knew such a man. The cold man who had described his own anger and emotions as functional. Even recalling that gruff man’s face made a pang stir in her chest. She took a sip of tea.
“Future duties. Since you’ve been so forthright with me, I’ll be honest in turn. How far will you aid us?”
“What sort of aid do you seek?”
“At this moment, you’re the only ones who can deal a meaningful blow to the enemy’s cavalry on these plains. If we’re speaking of needed help… yes. Until every soul who set foot on imperial soil is buried beneath our own. That would be ideal.”
“The crows will feast, then.”
Vicente laughed heartily. He bowed his head slightly and spoke with exaggerated nonchalance.
“What proposal can Your Majesty make?”
“Is a monarch volunteering as a sellsword?”
“You wouldn’t expect the eastern kingdom’s elite knights to fight for free, would you, Your Majesty?”
“Save for the emperor’s crown and the Empire’s borders, name your desire. Gold? Trade rights?”
The eastern kingdoms had long languished under the Empire’s influence. From administrative networks to trade routes, down to blacksmithing techniques and the spread of magecraft. The Empire was, in truth, a flourishing power without peer on this continent.
Strictly speaking, the technological and administrative prowess of the eastern kingdom alliance lagged half a century to a full century behind the Empire. Even if their military might could pressure the Empire with standing armies in the short term, the Empire’s true strength lay in prolonged war—making them impossible to match militarily.
Thus, this moment of directly negotiating with the emperor was a golden opportunity for Vicente. Who among the petty eastern kingdoms could bargain trade rights with the Empire’s emperor?
“Goodwill.”
Yet this pure young man smiled radiantly and said he sought goodwill. Rene stared at his face in a daze for a long while.
‘Well, if he’d wanted rights or gold, he wouldn’t have returned La Mertion to the Empire without conditions….’
And that was hardly all. This very intervention carried immense political risk for Vicente. At the very moment the eastern kingdoms sought to spread their wings beyond the Empire’s shadow, a military powerhouse of the alliance had unilaterally aided the Empire.
Rene regarded him coolly. A good man, a saint, perhaps even a hero worthy of the title… but he’d never make a good ruler.
“King Vicente of Dane. Since you’ve been true to me, and I’m grateful for your aid, I’ll offer one final piece of advice.”
“I’m all ears, Your Majesty.”
“If I wished, I could change the Eastern Kingdom Alliance’s name to the Dane League. If I wished, Fairn’s royal lands could become Dane’s, or the petty kingdoms around yours could beg to become your marches.”
Rene spoke coolly. This was no imperial arrogance, merely a statement of plain fact. The Empire had dispatched spies to the eastern petty kingdoms for ages.
If one nation rose, they bolstered another. When the aided nation prospered, they sowed destruction from within. Sabotage, political intrigue, occasional assassinations, and black propaganda. The Empire desired no single great power along its borders.
In that reality, the Eastern Kingdom Alliance remained a clumsy confederation of petty states. Dane knew this well—they’d been the Empire’s most recent victim.
Vicente’s face hardened. He stared at Rene for a moment before groaning softly. He bowed his head, then raised it.
“Your Majesty said our royal house holds a debt over you.”
“Indeed. The Empire inflicted an indelible wound on you, yet now finds salvation through your aid.”
“But Your Majesty doesn’t know what our royal house gained from that time.”
“Gained…?”
“My late king perished to the former emperor’s schemes, my life hung by a thread, and my kingdom’s foundations shook. But Your Majesty… do you know how my retainers and I endured that moment?”
Light seemed to blaze in Vicente’s eyes. The sunset stretched long through the tent’s window, making his shadow flicker like flame.
“It was the day legends descended and myths were born. My retainers and I will never forget it until our dying breaths. Dane herself rose to bestow your sword upon us, the kingdom’s great matriarch returned to unleash wraiths and giants, and a saint took up the blade to dispel the shadows over our royal house—”
Vicente smiled softly, yet firmly.
“We beheld justice’s arrival that day. We gained the power to call right what is right. Faith beyond courage and conviction. We inherited the faith of our mythic ancestors. Thus, I dare tell the Empire’s emperor.”
Rene knew, of course, of the uproar in the distant east. But knowing of it and hearing the reflections of one who lived it were worlds apart. In this moment, Vicente spoke with the upright gaze of a fairy-tale knight king.
“Some may call it foolish, but we are knights who swore to uphold those paltry values as the most sublime. Dane’s Round Table sought justice, and I advance here not as Knight Vicente, but as Dane’s justice. So consider it balancing the world’s scales.”
He hadn’t defined political schemers or plotters as villains. He merely affirmed that he would counter their ways… and balance the scales. If evil piled on one side, he would stand on the other.
Idiot. Idiots. Perfect fools ripe for exploitation. Rene sighed deeply and shook her head.
“I don’t hate fools like you, King Vicente. I apologize. It was as if I sullied your intent.”
“You honor me, Your Majesty.”
“But one more piece of advice… It’s unwise to show that side to a woman who’s spoken for.”
“Haha, Your Majesty. I have a son.”
“Why are all the men around me so desperate to hide that they have sons…?”
Rene chuckled and extended her hand. Vicente clasped it firmly in a solid handshake—firmer than any contract with a thousand clauses. In that instant, an accord was forged between the two monarchs to oppose one enemy eternally.
“So, what are your plans now?”
“Reclaim Bullang and petition once more for the electors’ levy. If we restore Bullang’s lands, the electors can no longer stand idle.”
The Empire’s conscription offices would resume normal operations. Rene estimated a month for that. With the enemy vanguard shattered, they had to seize the momentum before reinforcements scattered across the Empire.
“First, we must parley with the Tiger Clan Alliance. They’ve opposed them the longest among us. But for today…”
Gasena. Rene rose and stepped out of the tent. In the post-battle West Palts, campfires began to flicker one by one. Before mourning the dead, the soldiers rejoiced in their survival.
“A feast for the living wouldn’t hurt.”
* * *
“Hey.”
A whisper reached him.
“Hey, wake up.”
Had he dozed off? Fernandez rubbed his eyes and lifted his head. In his fatigue-blurred vision, an old man gazed at him.
On this vast plain, hidden beneath Labyrinthata’s blessing. He had spent days and nights without sleep, raising the fallen and pressing the assault.
Synchronizing with each and every corpse, controlling them one by one. The exhaustion from those battles equated to that of some eighteen thousand men.
Magic on that scale went beyond mental and physical fatigue. It was an act accompanied by horrific pain that slowly devoured his flesh. Yet Fernandez gripped his sword hilt without a trace of weariness.
The faintly visible old man seemed to tilt his head in vague puzzlement.
“Don’t you recognize me?”
“Approach, and I’ll cut you down.”
“That’s not like you. Making threats? Feizashi Wildcast. Didn’t you prefer preemptive strikes over warnings?”
His dazed mind finally registered the voice. A familiar one. Fernandez released the sword hilt.
“Orkis. What brings you here.”
He didn’t ask how he’d found him. The era’s greatest independent intelligence network couldn’t fail to locate whom it sought.
Orkis gave a faint smile and spread his fingers.
“How many?”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“Tell me. It’s important.”
“……One.”
“Worse than I thought. Let me take a look.”
Orkis approached without hesitation, grasped Fernandez’s forearm, and began slowly examining his body. Soon, he let out a deep sigh.
“You’ve acted like a man desperate to die, Feizashi. Your muscles and bones are damaged, and your spirit—Seong, Yeong, Baek, Hon—all shaken. Even with near-divine stature, you haven’t fully ascended the stairs to immortality.”
“I’ve no desire to become a god.”
“You haven’t missed your chance yet. With rest, your natural lifespan… hm. No, your remaining years could be preserved. About three… if you live long.”
“Was finding me just to examine me?”
“That was one reason. Do you remember me telling you the world’s doom remains unchanged?”
Fernandez nodded silently. Orkis plopped down beside him and continued.
“Regrettably, that future persists. But… something strange appeared.”
“Strange?”
“They overlap, Feizashi. Doom and hope. Fate often cunningly entwines death and life to deceive our eyes. The world’s doom—that grand event—is tangled in such threads.”
Fernandez closed his eyes, mulling the words. Hope and doom intertwined?
“Doom at hope’s end, or hope at doom’s? I can’t say which comes first. That’s my limit. But Feizashi… no, Fernandez Cerned. One thing is certain—”
Orkis gripped his arm.
“Your life is caught in that fate. So don’t die. That moment, which may be the world’s last, draws near.”
“You crossed that vast distance just to encourage me, Orkis?”
“Haha, how cold. As if.”
Whoosh!
Hot energy began to swirl from the arm Orkis held. Fernandez instinctively tried to pull away, then stopped upon sensing no malice.
Warmth seeped into his shattered spirit, threading through the cracks like spiderwebs.
“Orkis…”
“This’ll do for first aid. If the world ends while you’re still a half-immortal, it’s all for naught—so think of this as me betting my all on you.”
Orkis laughed easily and stood. Fernandez didn’t stop him, merely nodding quietly.
Chapter 322