Jealousy, the Ugliest Emotion
Become a real bastard like X. Jealousy is the ugliest among all human emotions. Spot on. It paralyzes rational thought. It triggers filthy inferiority complexes. How many people have met their ruin in the swamp of envy?
"Valtenstein County? A puny little fief the size of a millet seed!"
"It prospered enough sixty years ago to produce even a court baron... but ever since being exiled from the politics of the Imperial Capital, it's just been a cycle of decline and decay."
Vile. Inferior. Why the hell did the Lorelei choose such a pathetic worm?
Unbelievable. He didn't want to believe it. The lovers who adored the Steel Lorelei couldn't hide their contempt for a rival from such lowly origins.
Ergon Magnus Theodor, the noble crown prince whose ascension to the throne of the Theodor Holy Empire was all but assured.
Sturts von Baldemar, the peerless genius hailed as a master schemer of the deep sea.
Zikfried von Kreuz, heir to the Sword Duke who represented the Empire's Knight Guard.
Kasian von Eternar, young tower master of the Red Tower with near-infinite mana and the realm of the 8th Circle.
All the lovers who revered the Steel Lorelei were the Empire's ultimate rising stars. They were genuinely disgusted at the idea of some third-rate noble from a backwater worming his way into their exalted ranks.
"For a lowly bug like that to catch the Lorelei's eye... We could just pressure his piss-poor family, or send in the knights to boot him back to the boonies."
"Zikfried. You trying to make Linde hate you? I won't stop you, though."
The man with messy brown hair gripped the hilt of his greatsword, growling viciously. He seemed convinced this dim-witted third-rate noble had slimy intentions toward the Steel Lorelei, just like the Imperial Capital's aristocrats. A bit of brute force, and the guy would slink away on his own—like all the other bugs who'd buzzed around her before.
Thwang—
The white hilt scattered violent energy. The young tower master of the Red Tower shot the Sword Duke's heir a reproachful look for his impatience.
"I don't get why you'd bother racking your brain over this. Challenge him to a duel and show him the gap in strength, or muster the knights for a show of force. There are plenty of ways to crush a lowborn."
"Reckless words. I just want to be thorough. If word got out that the Kreuz family's White Night Sword Albrus was used on some third-rate noble, it'd put us in a bind."
"Nothing beats overwhelming force for swatting pests eyeing the Lorelei. Doesn't the Red Tower's young master have that heirloom magic weapon? What was it... the Black Star Sword Morion? Made alongside our family's White Night Sword, right?"
"You want me to use the Red Tower's sacred Morion for something as crude as intimidation?"
White Night Sword Albrus. Black Star Sword Morion. The Empire's two legendary blades, passed down through the sword-and-magic pillars of the Kreuz family and the Red Tower.
The Sword Duke's heir. The Red Tower's young master. They exuded confidence that they could dispose of some worthless third-rate noble anytime, symbols of their noble blood and lineage that guaranteed them inviolable privileges and glory.
In the Holy Empire, the authority of the Kreuz family and the Red Tower rivaled the omnipotence of the one true god.
* * *
Three months. I'd served as her staff officer all that time, observing Zigrinde von Levanfalt up close—her hobbies, talents, innate tendencies, temperament, and her dynamics with the Levanfalt family and the male leads.
Idiot. A pure, innocent idiot.
Classic affection deprivation. She maneuvers everyone to adore her while binding them so tightly they can't betray her. Even rising to war heroine by exploiting her worshipful male leads stems from that deprivation... It's so blatant it's almost scary.
But calling her a simple idiot didn't cut it. She wielded enough influence to hold the Empire's war heroine status and its pinnacle of martial and political power as lovers—enough to upend the world's balance.
A country girl handed the nuclear switch in an instant. That was Zigrinde von Levanfalt.
Dangerous. Someone to avoid at all costs.
My instincts screamed warnings like alarm bells. My request for transfer to the Colonial Empire front was completely shot down.
The War Council overseeing the Imperial Army's command in the Capital was a cult worshiping the Steel Lorelei.
"Ah, Sir Valtenstein. Visiting the archives again today?"
"At Miss Levanfalt's request. Just between us... the Steel Lorelei will soon march to the Colonial Empire front."
"Really?! A full-scale war against the Eisenreich Colonial Empire..!"
"It's classified for now, so keep it quiet."
Serving the Steel Lorelei meant being forced into a disposable role. Utterly unreasonable, but it had one silver lining.
The War Council. The Central Military Archives. The vault holding every secret document.
I gained entry to the silent corridor, off-limits to all but the Imperial Capital's 12 Palaces and their inner circles.
As her staff officer, I could step into the vault where countless secrets lay hushed.
"Garel von Erenberg. Lucas Benrik. Hannes Dietrich."
The queen bee's skill at draining her selected drones was masterful. It made me suspect others had been picked for the same role of burnishing the Steel Lorelei's shine.
And my hunch was right.
Garel von Erenberg. Lucas Benrik. Hannes Dietrich.
And more. At least a dozen others, all dead.
Every staff officer handpicked by the Steel Lorelei was gone. The gruesome straight lines slashed across their names marked them as sacrificed souls.
"All dead. Garel died in an 'accident' on the Republic front... Lucas succumbed to an epidemic after evacuation to a field hospital, and Hannes to a heart attack from overwork?"
They were the Empire's elite rising stars. From lower nobility or commoner stock.
Disposables. Cheap and traceless.
Stars who could've risen to great general status on a normal path, used as props to prop up the Steel Lorelei.
Perfectly disguised as accidents to avoid any suspicion.
Not Zigrinde's handiwork. Way too sophisticated for that bimbo.
Had to be the water buffaloes competing in affection and loyalty.
"Fuck, I'm screwed."
So what cause of death would I get? Sepsis? Gas poisoning? Or a stabbing hushed up as dishonor?
The crown prince and young lords worshiping the Steel Lorelei could erase a fallen border noble like me in a heartbeat.
To scrape by with this pathetic life, I need to get out of the Holy Empire. Father's and brothers' safety in Valtenstein County... they're just blood ties from possession anyway. Who gives a shit if they die.
Ways out of the Holy Empire? Plenty. I was a veteran who'd roamed fronts for eight years.
But escape wasn't all. Before that, a critical goal: collecting every cent of back pay owed by that damn queen bee and her buffaloes.
* * *
I told Zigrinde.
"We need to leave the Capital immediately."
"Pardon?"
My warning to flee the Holy Empire's Capital left the Steel Lorelei stunned. The Sword Duke's heir and Red Tower's young master—who'd barged into our private meeting—were just as baffled.
The Capital was the hub of wealth and power. What nonsense was this third-rate noble spouting?
The male leads, their heads full of dates with the beautiful Lorelei while the crown prince was away, shot me sharp distrust.
The Sword Duke's heir slammed the desk, exuding intimidation. The Red Tower's young master sighed deeply, radiating displeasure.
"Everyone knows the Magal Palace fell on the Colonial Empire front. His legion's rout has the line crumbling. The Capital's nobles will surely dump the suicidal task of salvaging it on Miss Levanfalt."
Magal Palace. Helian von Sargus. The Sword Saint, unrivaled among the Capital's 12 Palaces' famed generals, had perished.
Eisenreich Colonial Empire. A force of brutal expansionism, gobbling up minor nations as vassals to swell its territory.
The Sword Duke's heir and Red Tower's young master, brimming with doubt and annoyance, fell silent. As always, they turned expectant eyes, demanding I provide the solution.
"Request a transfer from the Imperial family and War Council under the pretext of suppressing the Deadwater Pirate Alliance fleets. To the Empire's upper echelons, the pirates' savage raids are as thorny as the Colonial Empire's invasions... They'll gladly accept Miss Levanfalt's request."
"I see. I understand your point, Sir Valtenstein."
Zigrinde was the textbook vain glory-seeker obsessed with her war heroine fame. She'd cling excessively to feats and achievements while upholding her image as the beautiful, benevolent noble lady and Empire-defending Steel Lorelei.
A Colonial Empire posting meant certain defeat. A fame-whore like her would dread the stain on her reputation.
Deadwater Pirate Alliance. A criminal syndicate of plunderers and kidnappers.
Wipe out their merciless fleets, and the Steel Lorelei's reverent fame would echo across the eastern seas.
Seducing a dumb noble lady was child's play.