Chapter 46
Chapter 46
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 46
Chapter Title: The Use of the Demon Sword - 2
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Having finished conquering the dungeon and returned to Altesia, I still hadn't come up with a way to use Tirving.
Instead, I found myself far more intrigued by the blueprints left behind by the Gun Emperor, spending my days poring over the scrolls.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ Tirving's Master, I cannot comprehend! Why prioritize that mere scroll over a demon sword with abilities beyond specification?! Whenever that happened, Tirving's voice, laced with lament, would ring out, but I ignored it.
There just wasn't a suitable use for it yet.
I decided to give it attention once I found a proper purpose, focusing on the blueprints for now.
The intricate structure made my head throb with heat whenever I strained my eyes to understand it.
Great brain exercise.
"Urgh...!"
When my brain started overloading, I tore my gaze away from the blueprints.
As I stared at the ceiling to cool down, a teacup appeared before me.
"Master Heinz, I've brought your black tea."
"Thanks."
"Any progress?"
"No, I think I need to discuss this with some experts."
It was so complex that I'd only understand it by having carpenters build something based on the designs.
Still, if it could be applied to buildings, they would transform into impregnable fortresses.
Its versatility meant it could work on any structure, which fueled my expectations.
But since it took so much time, I planned to limit it to buildings needing heavy defenses.
"A letter arrived from Adenberg saying the slaves and carpenters hoping to relocate to Lunaria are ready."
"What about Coco's siblings?"
"Unfortunately, none were in Adenberg. Coco says she senses their scent coming from the east."
"It's a shame that out of all those slaves, Coco's family wasn't there. Still, keep searching diligently since they might show up in Adenberg anytime."
"Yes."
Staring at the blueprints any longer felt like my head would explode, so I rolled up the scroll and stored it in the safe.
Maybe take a nap to cool my brain?
Everything outside Lunaria was going smoothly, leaving me with nothing else to do.
As I stretched, Tirving's pleading voice echoed.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ Master, grant this Tirving even a shred of attention...! "It does feel a bit pitiful."
I picked up Tirving, which I'd leaned against the desk.
Its hefty weight, chilling metallic touch, and flawless, unblemished form marked it as a famed sword.
The only blemish was its owner, who didn't even know how to wield a blade.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ At last, you turn to me, Master! "Ease up a bit. You're giving me a headache."
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ But if I don't speak up, you show no interest at all, so I had no choice. "I told you. Once I find a use, I'll draw you then."
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ I remember you saying that, yet days have passed without even pretending to ponder Tirving's use. This is why I hate perceptive demon swords.
If I left it like this, it'd nag me every day, so I decided to think seriously.
The thing itself was clamoring to work, so I needed to find a fitting job.
"First off, one question. You said you could summon futures—how many years max?"
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ Originally up to 100 years, but due to the seal sapping my power, 30 years is the limit. "Thirty years, huh..."
The first things that came to mind were wine and aged soy sauce.
Classic foods that deepened in flavor with age.
It could add rich aroma to wine or umami to soy sauce, but the problem was the effect being temporary.
No commercial viability—just variety for my meals.
Tirving probably didn't want to be a kitchen tool anyway.
"Tricky, very tricky."
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ Are Tirving's powers truly that useless...? Tirving's tone sounded utterly dejected.
Everyone else was placed perfectly, yet it languished in ambiguity.
And being called a famed demon sword made useless? No wonder it was down.
"If I had to pick one, it could grow herbs for elixir ingredients..."
But one slip, and those herbs would rot away.
Hardly a perfect use.
In the end, nothing came to mind beyond awakening those around me in crises.
As I resolved to shelve Tirving again, someone knocked on the office door.
"Young Master, an important letter from Princess Rosmel has arrived. May I enter?"
"Come in."
Luke's arrival let me naturally push Tirving's issue aside.
Perfect timing.
Tirving seemed to expect I'd prioritize the princess's letter and stayed silent.
"Here it is."
"Thanks for the trouble."
The princess's letter was sealed in an envelope.
I slit the wax with a letter opener and read the contents.
Mostly checking on my well-being, urging care as the weather cooled—standard fare.
Skipping pleasantries, the crux: Princess Rosmel planned to crush the Belda Viscount House for treason.
They were gathering perjured evidence to pin crimes on them, collecting nobles' denunciations.
She'd handle north, west, and south; I just needed five petitions from influential western nobles.
'Better stick to count houses or higher.'
Three families sprang to mind immediately.
Grimjack, Adenberg, Altesia.
Duke Grimjack was pro-imperial and owed me, so he'd sign gladly.
Marquis Adenberg was my puppet, and I controlled Altesia.
Three denunciations ready; needed two more via proxies.
'One to Marquis Dujonoku, old friend and trading partner of Altesia—should work.'
The last one stumped me.
Many nobles would join for an elixir, but no ties to Belda were key.
If word leaked, Princess Rosmel would be in trouble.
Couldn't ask casually—only trusted houses or those in my grasp.
"Young Master."
"What? You still here?"
"There's one more report."
"What is it?"
"Count Agulvein wishes to meet you and has entered the territory."
"Agulvein?"
The name rang a vague bell.
As I rubbed my chin, Luke let out a wry chuckle.
"The family of your former fiancée."
"Ah, she was an Agulvein?"
"Forgetting Lady Elisabeth already? Looks like you've cleanly moved on."
"Naturally. I've realized beautiful flowers bloom elsewhere."
It was the Ketchup Young Master's taste, not mine—who remembers a bitch who saw her fiancé as an ATM?
Especially with three far lovelier women around now.
I glanced sideways at Maribel's expression.
Stoic, but her lips twitched faintly.
Good flower metaphor.
"Anyway, her father coming here means he wants to talk about the broken engagement, right?"
"They sent that absurd letter demanding cancellation fees or compensation before."
"Daughter and father, both shameless to the core."
I stood and peered out the window.
A carriage halted before the Altesia manor gates.
A familiar woman and middle-aged man disembarked.
Lady Elisabeth and Count Agulvein, no doubt.
As I pondered how to boot them, I spotted an elderly man trailing them like a guard.
"Hmm...?"
More familiar to me than Lady Elisabeth.
A wrinkled old woman clutching a staff larger than herself.
A white mage in the White Tower's pristine cloak.
"Ha! She's here too?"
Her cloak gleamed spotless, but to me, it looked pitch black.
She was a Nidhogg Cult bishop infiltrating as a high White Tower mage.
Harlkas Nukria.
An inevitable game foe, etched in my memory.
Just days after sending elite knights, now a bishop?
The Nidhogg Cult's resolve to kill me was clear.
Infuriating, yet a golden opportunity.
Play it right, and I could puppet the Agulveins too.
Key was handling the bishop.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ You called, Master? ⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ Ooh! Truly?! Yeah.
At 69 years actual age, Harlkas's grand finale was about to begin.