Round Table Meeting (3)
Warden Jepeto Cervantes
• Shows favorable attitude toward newly appointed Vice Warden Suhwa Romanov
• Suspected of intending to delegate the warden position to Suhwa Romanov
Special Notes: Permitted Day Pass (daily outing) for Ilka Pavola, imprisoned in Utopia B-304
Vice Warden Suhwa Romanov
• Voluntarily applied and was appointed as Utopia's Vice Warden after graduating top of the Academy
• Defeated Mobile Patrol Captain (Boris Lesner) in a duel, using an unusual ability to subdue opponent
- No mana detected during activation of the unusual ability; presumed to be a type of power different from magic
- The Mobile Patrol Captain struck by the ability was immobilized, as if deprived of bodily freedom
• Currently attending the Elector Council meeting with Manrmursk Byeon Gyeongbaek
Inspection Target: Ilka Pavola
• Visited Gold Mountain Manrmursk branch via Day Pass; confirmed to have withdrawn a large sum of money
• Escorting officer during Day Pass was Vice Warden Suhwa Romanov (additional investigation needed)
Rustle!
The evening sky, overlooked only by nameless stars. A winged beast belonging to someone took flight.
“My father is feeling a bit under the weather, so I'll be attending the Round Table Meeting as his proxy, Muyul Ihyeon.”
The ingrained smell of tobacco clinging to his clothes was unpleasant. The same went for the gorgeously adorned seats of the electors. It felt like he'd stolen someone else's rightful place and sat down in it.
“Moribwe has no objections to Proxy Muyul Ihyeon's attendance.”
“Manrmursk seconds that.”
“Same here! If Dad's not feeling well, a grown son like me can just take his spot at a meeting like this!”
It probably wasn't consideration for Muyul Ihyeon, but the electors' near-indifferent approval felt oddly grateful. With Muyul Ihyeon finally sitting down, his expression slightly eased, the elector council resumed.
“Then shall we get into the real discussion? How we're going to respond to the emperor's demands.”
Bam! Clink!
“I agree with the Lady unconditionally! Time to give that emperor—who's forgotten who built this empire—a taste of salty seawater!”
Hm... Did Lady Moribwe ever say something that radical? As far as Suhwa remembered, even if there was any chance the hairy brute was right and they rebelled against the emperor, Lady Moribwe had never said anything that could hold her accountable. She'd only voiced abstract complaints.
“Your heart is as vast as the ocean, Duke Fraia. What about the other two electors... excuse me, one elector and the proxy?”
Satisfied with the Lady's response, Francis thumped his sturdy chest roughly.
“I'm against it.”
A languid yet arrogant voice. Manrmursk Byeon Gyeongbaek, looking at Francis like one eyeing a beast with its leash off, spoke up.
“I don't like the emperor dumping trash on us like it's just a notification, but everyone knows this isn't his doing alone, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“One or two electors, maybe, but he doesn't have the power or the guts to screw over several at once. Not the current emperor.”
Manrmursk Byeon Gyeongbaek swept his irreverent gaze across the Round Table, his expression as blasphemous as his words.
“Then what're you saying, you mutt! Quit beating around the bush!”
“Is that thing on your neck an offering to the sea god the sailors worship? Or maybe use it to think a bit?”
“Wh-what!?”
“Sachsen.”
Three electors, one proxy, and four expressions. They bloomed like spring buds, only to wither in an instant under the ensuing cold snap.
“I suspected, but no proof—until Sachsen Duke showed up openly with the emperor on this tour. No more hiding it.”
Manrmursk Byeon Gyeongbaek glanced briefly at Suhwa before continuing.
“He's saying the puppet emperor's firmly in my Sachsen's grip.”
“Kuhahaha!”
Clang! Clink!
His laughter roared like waves, shaking rusty medals and such. Unidentifiable white flakes fell amid it all, but no one present pointed it out.
“So that's what all the circling was about... In the end, you're saying you're scared of Sachsen, Border Count?”
“What?”
“Ain't ya? If you've got gripes, speak up. Opposing 'cause Sachsen's behind the emperor just means you're afraid of Sachsen.”
Caw!
““......?””
Cat, dog, and now crow. A shadowy mass extended from Lady Moribwe unfurled wings atop the Round Table.
“Duke Fraia. If Sachsen truly is behind this demand, we must proceed with caution.”
“L-Lady?”
Ignoring Francis's disappointed look, Lady Moribwe continued.
“Sachsen Duke holds the road monopoly—exclusive rights to the empire's major roads.”
“He won't be overt, but if we reject this demand, he'll throttle or cut off supply flows to our elector territories.”
“Don't worry about that, Lady! Our Fraia ships are faster than dolphins—we'll haul the goods ourselves!”
“You gonna build the ports for those ships to dock? Smuggling gold again? Fraia's swimming in cash, huh?”
“Th-that...”
Cawww!
The crow swooped in with perfect timing, halting the pointless bickering.
“Both Duke Fraia's words and Your Excellency Border Count's have merit.”
“What do you mean by that, Lady?”
His black beard tilted in confusion; he seemed utterly disinterested in managing his own territory.
Seizing the pause in the electors' childish power play, Suhwa quickly continued.
“It's about food self-sufficiency, Duke Fraia.”
“How dare you!”
A shout like a cannon firing point-blank. Everyone at the Round Table, shadow crow included, turned to Francis Fraia.
“Who gave you the right to speak while highborns are talking...? Right, lads? Butt in much!?”
“My apologies. Suhwa Romanov, baronet and advisor to His Excellency Manrmursk Byeon Gyeongbaek.”
“Oh, a noble? Then it's fine. Look like a high noble to you lads?”
“Bloody brilliant acting, Captain!”
“Kids say they're dukes off the ship?”
Amid the pointless laughter, Francis bantered with his apparent subordinates, flashing gold teeth and guffawing.
“Then allow me to explain. Sukan Kingdom, the empire's premier granary, can self-sustain food, so no immediate hit... but...”
Suhwa's gaze lingered briefly on his Academy classmate, Muyul Ihyeon.
“Can the other electors fully self-sustain their territories' food if roads are cut?”
Three electors, one proxy, and one reaction. Silence.
Muyul Ihyeon, silent since arriving; Francis, grinning with his men; even Lady Moribwe's pure white mask—all silent.
“Of course, as this touches sensitive economic matters for your territories, feel free not to answer.”
“I merely wished to note: openly rejecting His Majesty's demands—that is, Sachsen Duke's—could lead to food shortages.”
“Suhwa Romanov, was it, baronet?”
A [?] shadow etched itself above Lady Moribwe's pure white mask.
“Yes, Lady Moribwe.”
“If you have opinions on how we should respond, would you share them?”
An unspoken pressure to shut up if not. The seamless white mask, like an enormous eggshell the size of a face, seemed to glare.
“Of course, Lady.”
As if he'd been waiting, Suhwa rose and began circling the Round Table.
“Fraia, made of large and small islands, relies on horses or griffins.”
Passing the brutes reeking of brine.
“Moribwe, cradle of imperial magic, on cold arms like swords or spears.”
Dodging the snarling shadow hounds aimed at him.
“Proud land of Winged Hussars, Sukan, on magic tools.”
Skipping past his wearily smiling Academy classmate.
“And Manrmursk, employing more mercenaries than any territory, gets dumped with penniless mercs and war mages.”
He stopped again beside Manrmursk Byeon Gyeongbaek.
“Why? Why push such unreasonable demands, His Majesty and Sachsen Duke?”
“Fitting for the Border Count's man—top-notch at dodging. So why?”
“I don't know.”
“What!?”
Even the hitherto silent Muyul Ihyeon gaped at Suhwa in disbelief. No matter that Byeon Gyeongbaek brought him, ruffling other electors' feathers gained nothing—especially a rough one like Francis Fraia.
“But I can offer countermeasures.”
The [?] above the white mask shifted to [!].
“First, though, I must ask everyone here something.”
All eyes at the Round Table fixed on Suhwa's lips.
“Namely...”
Neigh!
Clop-clop!
Like a haughty peacock's, wooden wings with feathers stiffly affixed adorned the knights' backs and saddles.
“Wedge formation! Breach the center!”
Their plate armor shattered sunlight into fragments; beast pelts draped their shoulders. Lances racked at their sides looked at least five meters long.
“Disperse after breach! Don't slack the reins!”
Onrushing death. Sukan Kingdom's Winged Hussars charged imaginary foes with momentum befitting their fame.
“Training end! Assemble in the parade ground!”
The scorching heat hadn't truly begun, yet the knights' faces, helmets cast aside, dripped sweat. None broke formation or scattered ranks.
To the great Khan's warriors, early spring warmth was nature's praise.
Clap-clap-clap!
A soft yet somehow frail applause sounded.
“Company, attention! Present arms to Young Master Muyul Samho~!”
“Heave!”
Pale beyond white, as if shunning sunlight; small even for his apparent youth. The youngest son of Khan Muyuldaesok, Muyul Samho, appeared in the family parade ground, wheeled along in a wooden chair by a servant.
“A splendid cavalry charge, Knights Captain.”
“You're too kind, Third Young Master.”
“Form a wedge to guard the flanks, leveraging mobility to strike the enemy's sides.”
“Well-versed in mounted tactics. His Highness the Grand Duke will be pleased.”
“Ahaha... I hope so. Knights Ca...”
“Company, at ease! Good work today. Dismissed for personal maintenance!”
A voice like steel crushed the frail one.
“What was that, Third Young Master?”
“Nothing, Knights Captain. Seems I've taken too much of your time. Rest after that grueling training.”
“Haha! This is mere warm-up for the great Khan's warriors. I'll take my leave.”
As he turned his horse, a bead of sweat from the bronze square jaw splashed onto the wheelchair handle. The Winged Hussars Knights Captain departed, shaking his ornate wings.
Muyul Samho, seated in the wooden wheelchair, glared at his retreating back for a very, very long time.