Chapter 141
Chapter 141
Iron Emperor — Chapter 141
Though this was only a temporary capital designated after the fall of the original, the doors were as imposing and ornate as befitting a place where a prince resided. The chief attendant who had stepped ahead of the Gauri party entered the hall, bowed deeply, and announced:
"His Majesty, the King of Gauri!"
Perhaps because Marquis Baikal had briefed him in advance, the word "King" was indeed what the chief attendant called out in the hall. Gye Ung-sam relayed the words to Jin-cheon.
"......."
But Jin-cheon's feet did not move. The South Roselin nobles inside the hall turned their eyes toward the entrance, wondering what the problem was. Then Jin-cheon's lips parted slowly.
"Not King. Yeolje."
"I shall convey that."
Ung-sam smiled at Jin-cheon's words and relayed them to the attendant. The chief attendant, clearly at a loss, called out once more.
"His Majesty, the Ye—the Yeolje of Gauri!"
The chief attendant's pronunciation was slightly clumsy, but the word Yeolje unmistakably left his lips. Only then did Jin-cheon's feet begin to move, and the faces of the South Roselin nobles, now understanding why he had stopped, clouded with displeasure.
Yet none gave voice to that feeling.
Of course, they had no way of knowing what the title Yeolje truly meant. But being made to address him by a foreign term rather than a South Roselin one did not sit well with them.
Conversely, Jin-cheon did not look kindly on South Roselin either—they had been told through Baron Bels and Marquis Baikal that he was called Yeolje, yet they had treated the matter carelessly.
Clank. Clank. Clank.
He had taken only a few steps when knights approached from one side. They looked at the chief attendant.
"Why were their weapons not collected?"
"By protocol......."
Under the knight's reproachful gaze, the chief attendant trailed off, mumbling about protocol.
For an envoy from another nation, confiscating weapons might well be the rule. But for the sovereign of a kingdom, allowing a minimal guard escort and personal arms was only natural. That was the custom of this world.
Not that the custom was always observed. There was the matter of the strong, and the matter of the weak, was there not?
"We will be confiscating your weapons."
When the knight in front delivered the words flatly, behind him, Revion Gowin's face crumpled.
"Is that custom, Gowin?"
Jin-cheon asked, his gaze still fixed straight ahead. Gowin was wearing a translation item for these discussions, so he could understand Jin-cheon's words.
"It is not."
Had this been the Haian Kingdom, perhaps—but the situation was different now. Gowin had not known Jin-cheon for long, but he trusted him. Perhaps that was why.
Beginning his answer with a simple negative, he gave a brief explanation of the continent's customs.
"......."
A furrow formed between Jin-cheon's brows.
This was effectively a slight. Why would he be pleased?
"Rude bastard."
The curse slipped from Jin-cheon's mouth.
But the words were not translated. Jin-cheon's eyes turned to Ung-sam, who stood silent. Ung-sam gave an awkward smile.
"There's no word for that particular concept in this neighborhood."
"......."
Inconvenient in more ways than one.
"Not handing them over."
"Yes. I shall convey that."
When Ung-sam relayed Jin-cheon's answer, a flicker passed through the knight's eyes. But another knight approached from behind and whispered into his ear, and he stepped back. It was an order from Marquis Baikal.
* * *
Pamilion Alsein Roselin, the Second Prince.
Ordinarily, he was a man far removed from the line of succession, but now he was king in all but name. The nobles continually urged him to take the throne, but he had stubbornly insisted he would not sit upon it until the capital was recovered.
And thanks to that stubbornness, a path to reclaiming the capital had opened. Yet Prince Alsein's face was shadowed.
"You must hold your head high."
There was a voice that gave Prince Alsein strength.
Princess Pamilion Yunias Roselin.
She was eighteen years old, a half-sister to the Second Prince by a different mother, but to Prince Alsein, she was his only remaining blood.
When he heard her warm voice, he composed himself as if his earlier dark mood had never existed and looked down over the hall with studied dignity.
Into Prince Alsein's eyes came the Gauri delegation, drawing closer step by step.
Gulp.
Was he nervous?
Though it was only the sound of his own swallowing, Prince Alsein startled as if he had heard thunder. But this was the moment to display dignity.
"I am Pamilion Alsein Roselin."
He addressed the man standing at the very front in a youthful voice. Prince Alsein had been told this man was the leader of the place called Gauri, and so he spoke with deliberate majesty.
He could see the man receiving a translation. Then the answer came.
"Go Jin-cheon."
Though he could not understand the meaning, Prince Alsein felt he grasped one thing.
The man was utterly self-possessed.
After the awkward exchange of greetings, a noble stepped forward from one side and unfurled a scroll.
"His Highness Prince Pamilion Alsein Roselin, true heir of the Royal House of Roselin, commends your efforts and hereby bestows upon you the rank of Marquis of this kingdom!"
A smile played at the corner of the noble's mouth as he spoke with the fullest self-importance—as though he were dispensing sheer generosity.
"Hah......."
But the face of Gye Ung-sam, standing ready to translate, crumpled mercilessly. Risel's eyes filled with worry, and Gowin's eyes shifted to curiosity. When Ung-sam conveyed the words, Jin-cheon's face crumpled as well.
"Tell them to give us money instead."
That was Jin-cheon's single remark.
In an instant, the faces of Risel and Gowin were suffused with consternation. Was that not a little too blatant? But Ung-sam relayed it verbatim.
"Instead of a title, please give us coin."
"Insolence!"
No sooner had Ung-sam finished speaking than the nobles' voices erupted. They had lost their composure at the sight of someone demanding money rather than simply refusing.
Marquis Baikal's face crumpled as well.
He had thought that offering a marquisate might serve as a means of conciliation. He had judged that, even if Gauri was a nation in its own right, a South Roselin marquisate was plainly not an inferior prize. Naturally, they would not accept without hesitation—they would deliberate on it. But this—!
"You dare compare His Highness Prince Alsein's goodwill to mere coin! Do you not find yourselves impertinent!"
It was Marquis Rui Terikan, standing opposite Marquis Baikal.
But the fury of the old and fiercely loyal noble could carry little persuasive force for Jin-cheon's party. That fury was, after all, only South Roselin's own perspective.
Jin-cheon's face turned toward Marquis Terican, who had loosed the shout.
"Amusing place."
A sneer touched the corner of Jin-cheon's mouth.
Watching in silence from one side, Baron Bels began to feel a creeping unease.
"Not worth it."
At those final words, Jin-cheon turned his back and began to walk away. Marquis Terican, who had been shouting, and the other nobles were instead the ones thrown into confusion. Then Ung-sam addressed them.
"It appears your kingdom assessed His Majesty the Yeolje as little more than the chieftain of some band. His Majesty the Yeolje's message is: 'Not worth it.' I believe I now understand what your kingdom intended with this audience. Good day."
Leaving only those words, Ung-sam followed behind Jin-cheon. An enraged noble shouted.
"What are the knights doing! Seize those men at once—!"
"Hold!"
"But why—!"
Cr-r-rack.
The noble whose face had flushed red at Marquis Baikal's restraint tried to speak, then turned his head at the strange noise.
Crack.
Cr-r-r-ack.
"Huh!"
Wherever Jin-cheon's foot touched the floor, the same noise sounded without exception, and wherever his foot lifted, a distinct footprint remained. The marble floor was sinking in as though it were soft earth.
Marquis Baikal had no choice but to let them go.
'I hadn't sensed the slightest surge of power from them.......'
Marquis Baikal was already regretting ever permitting them to bear arms and walk all the way here. Jin-cheon's steps had weight—while the Eulji brothers and Yeon Hwi-garam and the others showed no weight in their steps at all.
The marquis felt a chill run down his spine.
* * *
"Was that not reckless?"
Revion Gowin's voice, tinged with worry, reached Go Jin-cheon where he sat to one side with an impassive expression.
He believed in their strength, but he had not expected them to simply turn their backs and walk out right in front of a prince who was, for all intents and purposes, the sovereign of another nation. In one sense, it was exhilarating. In another, it was unsettling. When you thought about it, this place was not necessarily safe, was it?
"A waste."
Jin-cheon spoke.
At the unexpected words, Gowin looked baffled. A rough voice cut into the moment.
"That bastard Baikal, or whatever his name is—ain't he a little too quick on the uptake?"
"Mm. Would've been a waste to let a man like that rot here."
It was Eulji Buru. Jin-cheon nodded as if in agreement, and Gowin began to feel the stirrings of a terrible suspicion.
"On the other hand, there would have been no need to seize hostages, and he does seem like someone you can reason with."
"Huh!"
At Yeon Hwi-garam's calm tone, Gowin felt his terrible suspicion hardening into reality.
'Th-they were thinking of taking the prince hostage!'
It was exactly that.
"Gowin, don't go puttin' on an innocent face now. If talk hadn't worked, wasn't force the next step?"
Eulji Uru spoke slowly.
If words failed, their fallback had been this: no need to be cowed and back down—in a single stroke, Jin-cheon would abduct the princess and Hwi-garam would abduct the prince.
"A waste."
"......."
For some reason, Jin-cheon's expression seemed to find it even more regrettable that words had worked.
A chill ran through the party.
Was this what a prolonged dry spell did to a man?
His loyal subjects resolved to tread carefully for the time being.