The War Hero's Return
The right of first claim to newly occupied territories belonged to the emperor who ruled the empire. After incorporation as an imperial demesne, the cabinet and nobles would vote to select a lord to govern it—whether as a royal fief, granted to a noble house, or donated as a bishopric.
But the Eisenreich Colonial Empire was different from typical feudal states. The Colonial Empire had granted governance of Sanktus to the Eastern Executor and the Red Mercenary King, who had utterly crushed the Holy Empire in the east. It was the empire's uniquely aggressive reward system: handing over full rights to conquered lands to the soldiers who won the war.
"It's clearly a gold mine of a strategic hub... but I'm good with just the eastern territories."
"Turning a merchant city into our new domain means dealing with traders all the time... headache-inducing. Pass."
The Eastern Executor. The Red Mercenary King. They split governance of Sanktus 50-50, each citing their own reasons for rejecting it.
What a pity.
Sanktus was a sleepless merchant city where countless caravans crossed paths, generating astronomical profits. Just collecting tariffs and fees from those traders would rake in rare treasures like fish on a hook.
"No need to worry. We'll put Sanktus's governance rights up for auction at the War Bank. Countless nobles in the Colonial Empire will be dazzled by its immense value. I'll make sure to extract the maximum price and privileges at the auction, so your subordinates' efforts—including yours—won't go to waste."
"The War Bank... you mean?"
"It's the bank that handles all spoils of war in the Colonial Empire. They meticulously appraise battlefield loot and convert it to gold. I recommend visiting to open an account while we're at it."
"Convenient. A bank that disposes of awkward spoils for you."
Most soldiers came from lowly backgrounds and had no eye for valuing loot. They routinely got fleeced by Shylock-level shady merchants, selling spoils for peanuts and earning the "sucker" label.
The War Bank had been established precisely for such soldiers.
Rights to territories and governance. All manner of battlefield spoils. Even slaves from defeated nations that had knelt to the Colonial Empire.
Listening to Leonora's explanation, I could feel the empire's ruthless efficiency. A militaristic state forged by overwhelming force—it had an inhuman grasp of war's mechanics.
"Sell the young master we captured to the War Bank? That blood-sworn nemesis of yours. The Sword Duke's eldest son, an expert at the pinnacle... he'd fetch a fortune."
"So he'd be sold into slavery?"
Frederica sidled up with a mischievous grin. Leonora visibly bristled.
"He might end up as a gladiator in the arena or a noble lady's boy toy... or perhaps as a lab rat for those madmen exiled from the mage world for cruel experiments. To those lunatics, the Sword Duke's heir would be an unprecedented specimen."
"Don't poison my adjutant with your wicked whispers, Frederica."
"You're always so rigid, Leonora. No wonder the kids keep calling you 'auntie.'"
"Kh...! I accept your challenge to a duel anytime!"
Auntie. Leonora's sole reverse scale, despite her icy composure. She'd struck it raw.
A biting gale began to howl, proving the point. Frederica chuckled at Leonora's aggression and waved it off.
"I'll accept Your Excellency Frederica's proposal."
"Excellent decision. Once the garrison troops arrive to defend Sanktus, we'll head to the Imperial Capital together! I'll share all my know-how in place of Leonora."
"What cunning scheme are you hatching to seduce my adjutant? He's the Edelgard family's sworn guard! I won't let him get sold off to some wandering mercenary band!"
The Red Mercenary King laughed and tugged my left hand. The Eastern Executor grabbed my right.
Tug-of-war.
My hands, caught by the two judges, pulled taut. If this stalemate dragged on, Kailun would become a literal split decision.
Hm. Time for Solomon's verdict.
"We looted the Sanktus Cathedral as you ordered, Kailun."
"Good work."
"Our mercenary band just pitched in on-site... not sure we deserve the cathedral's spoils so shamelessly. On behalf of my brothers, thank you. If the Valtenstein detachment ever faces trouble, just call us anytime."
"You've been warned—don't regret it later."
After the storm of fire and ice passed, the black-skinned mercenary captain approached with heavy steps.
Baraka. A giant from the southern continent, who'd fought beside us on the field. He bowed his head in gratitude.
The Valtenstein detachment had claimed first dibs on looting the Sanktus Cathedral. Then, we'd generously let the southern mercenaries—waiting in the rear—pick over what remained.
Golden reliquaries and holy relics. Sacred water and wine from the cathedral crypts. Even the vibrant stained-glass panels adorning the dome.
True to their ferocious nature, Baraka's southern mercenaries had claimed the cathedral's beautiful nuns as handmaidens—a fitting punishment for years of exploiting the estate's serfs under Bishop Bartolo.
"Revenge achieved, Valtenstein Captain."
"Not really. It's not just about revenge."
"It's fine. You don't have to hide it from me."
"I said it's not."
The one-eyed knight in black eyepatch pressed. I shook my head.
"Turning the Elisian Church's cathedral into a wretched ruin has dragged the Theodor Holy Empire's prestige through the mud again. Isn't it revenge against the Holy Empire?"
"I'm not that sentimental. The targeted looting was to play up the vengeful defector act. That way, the Colonial Empire's upper echelons will truly trust the Valtenstein detachment—a Holy Empire native unit."
The Colonial Empire and Holy Empire had to be blood enemies. Only then would the wars keep coming.
The "holy" had hit rock bottom. The humiliated Holy Empire and church would vow revenge. And as conquerors of Sanktus, the Colonial Empire would gear up for all-out war.
"Adjutant. Prepare to return to the east."
"Of course."
Leonora beckoned. I nodded.
-Withdrawal of the Yellow Path 12 Palaces' Iron Army.
-Crushing defeat of the Kreuz family heirs and knights.
-Heaven-defying plunder at Sanktus and its cathedral.
Humiliation. Could there be greater shame?
Shock and despair swept through. Faced with endless criticism and mockery.
Sanktus's defeat forced the Holy Empire's nobles to feel the crisis.
"What a lamentable affair!"
"They say the Kreuz knights all burned to ash in hellfire...!"
"How on earth did young hero Zikfried von Kreuz fall for such an obvious feint? He's shone on countless battlefields!"
The Sword Duke's Kreuz knight order and cavalry were the Holy Empire's elite forces. Despite marching out with 7,000 men, Zikfried had botched it spectacularly against Holy Empire traitors and southern mercenaries. The blame and doubt were inevitable.
Was he really a war hero? Unbelievable.
The disastrous outcome shattered Zikfried's ironclad reputation, birthing voices of doubt. For the first time, the capital's nobles—who'd worshipped the Steel Lorelei—showed distrust and discontent.
"Kailun von Valtenstein!"
"We must exterminate the Valtenstein house at once!"
"In four centuries since the Holy Empire's founding, countless traitors have appeared... but none as barbaric as this!"
Only 2,000 of the Kreuz forces returned safely to the Holy Empire. The rest were burned alive or captured in utter disgrace.
Unthinkable. A hegemon that dominated the continent's east, routed by inferior warmongers.
Justice and holiness trampled. The empire's dignity plunged to the depths.
All courtesy of the Holy Empire's traitorous plague.
"Crown Prince and the knight order have returned to the capital!"
As all the capital's nobles drowned in rage and shock, the news pierced the dark clouds like fierce sunlight: the return of their guardian.
Ergon Magnus Theodor. The black lion protecting the empire had led the main legion back from the west.
Cover of the original work I Will Protect Your Empire.