Chapter 381
Chapter 381
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 381
Chapter Title: Responsibility of the War
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Vicente readily headed to the palace throne room at Fernandez's words that there was something they needed to discuss right away, setting aside the cleanup, postwar processing, and all the mounting problems.
Through the half-torn roof and outer walls, he could see columns of refugees. Those heading back to their hometowns, those choosing to stay in the city, and the exhausted soldiers rushing about to protect them.
How many of them would survive the coming winter? This land—no, the entire east beyond Dane. Would there be any strength left to protect the people?
A deep sigh escaped Vicente's lips. He turned his gaze to look down at Fernandez, who had his head bowed.
The vast throne room of the palace. The Hall of a Thousand Swords. In this place where rainwater dripped steadily, the two men who had saved the city stood silently, sensing each other's presence.
"Let us summarize."
Vicente's voice was already parched and soaked in profound fatigue. He paused for a moment before continuing.
"It was you who intended the famine in the east."
"That is correct, Your Highness."
"And the plundering across the entire east was by your command?"
"Yes."
"You sought imperial aid to resolve it, then used that debt to keep it as a permanent province loyal to the imperial house?"
"......Yes, Your Highness."
"Why?"
Even Vicente himself struggled to clearly define his emotions. Betrayal? What nonsense. Until this young man had made his mark, he had been little more than an unknown outsider.
From the Cerned Barony in Dane, devoted to the Beitasser Church. He had massacred his own family with his own hands and declared independence as the lord of the barony. Setting those aside, Vicente knew nothing about him.
Except one thing. He had saved Dane in its time of crisis......
And if he had to add more, in every step he took, he had exerted himself fully to save every region.
Vicente had deemed that sufficient. He saw that attitude toward life as the pinnacle of benevolence, the moral duty a knight ought to uphold—an absolute imperative.
So, was what he felt betrayal?
'No, I don't know.'
Vicente pressed his eyes shut and let out a deep sigh. Not quite betrayal, but disappointment...... or sorrow. Sorrow at losing a friend he had cherished. For him, who had been robbed of his throne by his father and forced from the palace's care into wandering training from childhood, "friend" held meaning beyond mere words.
"When I heard the news of the east and Fairn's rebellion, it was already too late to act, Your Highness. Fairn's forces were unstoppable, and Sigismund's scheme was fully prepared to corrupt the entire east."
"Dane held firm."
"Dane...... had to choose to defend the city. Until Fairn officially declared war, it needed to gather its strength and stockpile food."
"Are you...... are you blaming me now......? Do you mean I should have condoned the Fairn royal massacre and joined hands with those bastards!"
Vicente bellowed. The weary king's fury poured down upon the throne room. Amid the rainwater, Fernandez's eyes stared straight at the king, more emotionless than ever.
"Even if Dane had defended, the outcome would not have changed. Instead, Fairn would have gained time to ally with the eastern petty kingdoms and attempt to pacify the east."
"......What?"
"The best option was to block Sigismund's ascension to the throne. By the time I intervened, Fairn was already fully in his grasp, so it's a meaningless hypothetical. And the worst was Dane's surrender and the east's complete fall."
Kneeling on one knee in the rainwater, Fernandez continued flatly.
"The second-best was Your Highness's defense. Fortifying Dane's borders and holding firm with the Round Table knights until I arrived, until the imperial and northern armies came. Until the Ironsides and priests checked the east's corruption."
"And since all that came to nothing, you chose the third-best?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
The third-best in the eastern purification operation was to create an extreme situation where Fairn's forces concentrated on Dane, preventing the eastern petty kingdoms from allying with Fairn.
Dane had already lost significant political standing within the eastern alliance. In such circumstances, if Fairn began inciting the petty kingdoms, Dane would face isolation with no other choice.
Dane's main force marching toward Fairn must have foreseen that future. They were men who raised voices for honor and chivalry, but not fools.
Rather than shattering gloriously in a desperate last stand, they chose to march on the enemy's heart. It was not a foolish choice.
And with no direct means to contact Vicente, who had made that choice, Fernandez had few options.
'If I can't cut Fairn's diplomatic lines, plunge all the petty kingdoms Fairn sees as diplomatic targets into chaos. So Dane and Fairn's war ends as their war alone.'
Just as Fairn sought to isolate Dane, Fernandez sought to isolate Fairn. No—more precisely, to isolate the entire east from one another.
The plan succeeded. Not a single royal house in the east could interfere abroad; they were in no state to even survive the winter unscathed.
"And that result leads to all our downfall and imperial invasion?"
"A desperate measure to halt the demons' rampage......"
"Do you even believe that yourself?"
"......"
Fernandez had no response to Vicente's words. A necessary sacrifice? He could usually accept it impassively, but not before this man.
Even without knowing the plan's true nature. Even knowing full well he would die. Vicente had thrown himself into the flames before tens of thousands of enemy soldiers without complaint.
Such men must be called heroes. Those for whom necessary sacrifice means only themselves. Those who could offer their one life for others.
Before such men, Fernandez could not be more brazen.
"Albert. No...... Fernandez. Fernandez Cerned. I trusted you."
A cracked voice flowed from Vicente's lips. With his head bowed and hand pressed down, his expression was hidden. But from his voice, from the atmosphere, raw disappointment seeped through.
Why not? The hero who restored his throne, lifted the curse on the royal house, and saved the nation's fortunes had devised a strategy that left it no choice but to become an imperial province, even starving tens, hundreds of thousands of innocents.
"Even now, I want to trust you. So answer me just one thing. When I and my vassals conquered Fairn, you had ample time to relay your return to me. To come back, save Altbert, and mop up Fairn's remnants."
At that time, Vicente did not know the kingdom's exact situation. He vaguely knew Fairn's main force had landed in Dane's territory but had no grasp of the war's flow.
So he assumed Dane's fall. It was natural. There were no forces inside Dane's lands to stop Fairn's main army. With both Dane and Fairn destroyed, he had provided his vassals an escape.
What must it have felt like for a king of a fallen nation to traverse ruined lands and enter the capital? Biting his lip, Vicente said,
"You, me, the northern warriors you led, and the Beitasser Church's knights. With all that strength united, we defeated Fairn's main force. Then, if my knights...... the great men of the Round Table had returned here. Could we not have achieved a more certain victory with far less loss?"
Even now, there weren't enough troops to organize the refugees under Altbert's walls and lead them to new lands. If the expeditionary force had returned safely, the situation would be twice as better.
Yet Vicente eyed Fernandez suspiciously. Fernandez had been carrying out the emperor's orders. The emperor had dispatched him to turn the east into a province, and the plan was nearing its end.
From that standpoint, Vicente could only assume Fernandez had deliberately disbanded the army. The empire would not want Dane's independent reconstruction, so he must have aimed to undermine its foundation.
"Because Your Highness's choice was right."
"Disbanding the army was the right choice?"
"Your Highness, see it big and broad. Even if the expeditionary force returned safely and reclaimed Dane's territory, what future awaits? The farmlands are already devastated, yields undreamt of. Not just Dane, but the entire east is the same. Had Your Highness not disbanded them and ordered them to wander the east, the petty kingdoms' futures would have been brutal winter, distrust, suspicion, and endless attrition."
The petty kingdoms would eye others' granaries, and impoverished folk would become bandit hordes to survive. After winter, no life could sprout in the east. It would become a hell of villains and the destitute, fated to eternal chaos.
But was that something for the man who orchestrated such a fate to say? As Vicente stared at him, Fernandez nodded and spoke.
"Yes, I opened this era. I ordered the plundering, fomented poverty, and unleashed whispers of suspicion among the secular royals, Your Highness. It was solely my two hands that led this east into chaos."
Rainwater streamed down his hair, his curls hanging long below his cheeks. Fernandez lifted his head, gazing at Vicente through his locks. His sharp eyes gleamed blue beneath the ashen sky.
"But see it big and broad. Before being Dane's lord, Your Highness will become the majesty over myriad nations. The Round Table knights scattered across the east will set Dane's example, and today's victory will soon reach the ears of all under heaven. As the tale of knights who stood firm against poverty, famine, despair, and war's horrors, blocking the foe."
Imperial aid would come. The refugees in Dane's lands would pass this winter in plenty, and the rumor would spread swiftly across the east.
In the security vacuum, the Round Table knights would undertake their own wanderings. Punishing the wicked, righting injustices, saving the people. In this era where morality had sunk to the earth, tales of knights wading through mud, knees soiled, picking it up with their hands would sweep the east.
Meanwhile, what could lords unable to fill their people's bellies or secular royals do? When folk defect to Dane, they dare not condemn it.
For they had wished for the Round Table knights' might.
For the empire watched behind Dane.
And because Dane held the protagonists of the epic who felled tens of thousands with just two men.
"Your Highness will become the great empire's lord. Yes, relying on imperial support, unable to escape the imperial house's influence henceforth. Of course. But the east will shed a millennium of civil war and truly reborn as one nation. Under your name."
A heavy, oily silence descended on the throne room. Vicente gazed down at him wordlessly in response to Fernandez's words.
If his heart did not race, it would be a lie. He was a man too, and still young. For a brief moment, Vicente could not help imagining Dane's flag flying from the east's northernmost to southernmost reaches.
But he soon shook his head.
"It is not right."
"Your Highness."
"I understand your intent. From the empire's view, better one loyal monarchy than dozens of dissatisfied warlords. I too wish this nation's people prosperity and safety. But it is not right."
Vicente slowly rose from his seat. He drew the longsword slung across the throne and walked down to the throne room floor. Toward the rain-slicked stone where Fernandez knelt.
Crossing the forbidden red line, he slowly raised the sword. Rainwater clung and streamed down the cold blade.
"I strip you of your position. Fernandez Cerned. You are no longer of the Round Table, nor of the Thousand Swords Council."
"......Yes, Your Highness."
"I strip you of your citizenship. Dane will no longer receive you as a subject, nor expect any aid from you within Dane's territory."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Dane's amity with the Beitasser Church is also severed. Your operation was your own doing, but you acted as the church's saint. The church cannot be free of this responsibility."
"Yes...... Your Highness."
Fernandez bowed his head, awaiting the king's punishment. From his words, it did not seem he intended to take his life, and Vicente was not a man to draw a sword merely to threaten.
Yet the blade that rose over Fernandez's shoulder fell limply with a clunk.
"I pondered what reward to grant you for discussing merits, but that cannot be. Your merits are covered by your faults."
The blade spun through the air, rose over his left shoulder, and fell again with a clunk.
"Had you kept this secret to the end, I would have continued as your and the empire's puppet king. Thus, knowing you harbored no malice, I cover your faults with merits once more."
Finally, Vicente's sword rose above Fernandez's head. Vicente carefully tapped his crown—
"Now you have neither faults nor merits left. Yet the people remain in distress, injustice rampant, the nation's fortunes like a candle in storm. Thus, before being King Vicente of Dane, as your friend, Vicente who wields the sword, I say to you."
You are no longer a knight, and I am no king in this moment, so this is not a command.
"I invite you as Dane's Prime Minister. As a friend, I ask but one thing of you. Fernandez Cerned. Straighten Dane's fortunes, succor the people, reclaim the east's peace."
Fernandez trembled and raised his head. Amid the rain, Vicente smiled whitely. Seeing it, Fernandez unwittingly sighed.
In the end, what is a hero?
The ability to rule chaos, personal might, endless will? Not those things even villains possess. Not the frail convictions of fools crying justice, nor the hypocrites consoling themselves for others.
It is a heart that meets the lowly eye-to-eye, remains upright even clutching a bloodied sword. A hero is a vessel. One embracing and holding all under heaven.
Fernandez knew he did not suit that place. He was one who poisoned heroes and hung the good on crosses. Born to such a fate. No matter the achievements piled, even if his spirit's karma elevated to hold divinity in mortal flesh. He could never be that man.
He bowed deeply once more and quietly said,
"Grant me one year, Your Highness. I still have matters to attend."
But even born to such a fate. Perhaps he could live another life.
No, had he not struggled all this time to live another?
The end was near. At this point of the east's pacification, Fernandez had but one hurdle left. The sole great evil remaining in this era.
After that, when all was done. With a relieved heart, he could set down all burdens and return here. To undo what he had wrought.