Chapter 19
Chapter 19
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 19
Chapter Title: Demanding an Apology
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Polantia Glasis.
Glassis's finance manager and the Sword Saint's younger brother.
He was facing two guests today.
None other than the recently renowned Dante and Havel Banpellyon.
"Does the tea suit your taste?"
"It's bitter. Tasteless."
At Polantia's question, Havel set down his teacup.
His speech and manners screamed spoiled brat.
Yet even so, an air of noble etiquette seeped through his behavior.
This was a habit that couldn't be faked without years of ingrained practice.
But he hadn't mentioned his family name when introducing himself.
His skill in felling that knight was the same.
He was a man shrouded in mysteries.
'And he's deliberately playing the wastrel role.'
A tactic to wear down the opponent, make them tire of dealing with him.
No holds barred, the kind of method used when a deal had to be struck.
'A kid half my age.'
Where had he learned such cunning?
"The tea is top-quality, yet it doesn't suit your palate. What a shame."
"Maybe it's because the one who brewed it drapes himself in luxuries that don't suit him."
His follow-up remark made Polantia's eyebrow twitch.
"......How about we stop insulting Glassis now?"
Glassis was a house of pride.
Polantia had no intention of letting his family be mocked.
But Havel merely smiled slowly in response.
His expression was like that of a predator hooking its prey.
"If you've done something worthy of scorn, you deserve the scorn."
Polantia's eyes cooled.
He couldn't let emotions drag him in.
The other side was playing dumb on purpose.
No need for him to stoop to the same level.
"We've handled the matter from the exhibition match on our end. Dratein was even exiled for it."
So Polantia emphasized that they'd done their part.
But Havel just let out another chuckle.
That irked Polantia.
"I don't know why you keep laughing at the end of every sentence."
"How could I not? The apology I'm here for isn't for that petty business."
Petty business?
This was an embarrassment that mocked Glassis's name.
Polantia furrowed his brow, unsure what Havel wanted.
Finally, Havel steered the conversation to the point.
"I'm talking about how the vassal house that stabbed their lord Banpellyon in the back ended up among the Five Great Families."
In that instant, cracks spiderwebbed across Polantia's face.
That was Glassis's reverse scale.
An event from long ago.
Yet a story the previous generation never let die.
[Don't get tangled with Banpellyon.]
It was because Glassis had once been Banpellyon's vassal house.
He didn't want to admit it, but it was history.
Even if nearly forgotten now.
History doesn't vanish.
"......What did you just say?"
"Don't play like you didn't hear. It's exactly as I said. The apology Banpellyon demands today is for Glassis betraying Banpellyon."
Havel repeated it without a hint of hesitation.
Dante glared at Polantia this time as well.
Banpellyon's fall had been triggered by its vassal houses' betrayal.
And Glassis had led that betrayal.
Naturally, Dante was deadly serious too.
Polantia, meanwhile, felt utterly absurd.
'Are these guys fearless?'
He'd heard about the exhibition match.
His nephew Dratein had accepted defeat gracefully and even owned up to his cowardice.
Considering Dratein's usual personality, it made no sense.
And then there was Pria, vice-captain of the Meteor Knights' 3rd Division.
He'd stressed Havel's danger repeatedly, even taking disciplinary action for the loss.
'Only the Sword Saint can stop him.'
Polantia mulled over Pria's words.
Then glanced at Havel.
He'd wielded a sword once himself.
Beyond Havel's faint presence, nothing stood out.
'But the aura radiating from his body is different.'
His accumulated experience told him so.
The natural pressure emanating from Havel marked a true powerhouse.
The arrogant kind that assumed no one was stronger.
Something he'd only seen in his brother, the Sword Saint.
'This isn't an act. It's ingrained in him. There really is something to him.'
But even so, it was personal might.
Polantia tapped the armrest of his chair.
Then turned to him and spoke.
"The old Sword Saint vanished, and Banpellyon was crumbling."
That much was true.
Havel as the linchpin.
Banpellyon had lost the Dawn Knights and was collapsing.
"Had Glassis stayed with Banpellyon, we would've fallen alongside them."
That wasn't entirely wrong either.
History was full of unknowns.
"We simply left Banpellyon. Why should that warrant an apology?"
Better to thrash about than choose mutual ruin.
That was Polantia's point.
"Hah."
But Havel scoffed.
He slowly propped his elbow on the armrest and rested his chin on his hand.
"Do you know why Glassis has endured this long?"
What was he getting at?
Polantia stared at Havel.
Havel snorted at the look.
"You don't, do you?"
It had been over a century, after all.
Before even he entered the Demonic Palace.
Of course he wouldn't know.
"Glassis are the royal bloodline of the fallen kingdom, Glenjephia."
Polantia's body stiffened.
It was from ancient records.
Ones barely documented at that.
Polantia had only learned it while digging through history himself.
'How the hell does this guy know that?'
A fact even he had unearthed with effort.
"At the time, the mighty Beltaron Empire—the strongest power—pushed world conquest alongside a policy to exterminate foreign royals and nobles."
The Beltaron Empire still cropped up in history books occasionally.
Once a colossus that dreamed of global domination.
But it met its end with Arhan's rise.
Because Arhan birthed countless heroes.
"Glenjephia fell to Beltaron, its bloodline slated for the execution block."
And this was news even to Polantia.
No records detailed Glenjephia's end.
Havel continued as if sharing a secret.
"Just before they were all executed, Arhan's army struck Beltaron. Glenjephia survived thanks to that."
Polantia's eyes wavered.
Light from the window hit Havel's back.
The shadows on his face carried an eerie weight.
"Who do you think led the charge to save them?"
But his eyes gleamed sharply.
"Banpellyon. They'd been allies with Glenjephia since ancient times, so they stepped up."
Havel's memories of it were still vivid.
Storming Beltaron, pulling Glenjephia's bloodline from the scaffold.
They vowed lifelong gratitude.
With their kingdom lost, they had nothing.
So Havel took them in as vassals.
"You, who renamed from Glenjephia to Glassis and served as vassals."
And fury began to spark in Havel's eyes.
"Owe your very existence to Banpellyon."
Polantia's face drained white under the surging rage.
"Kuh."
His pressure was suffocating.
"You dare claim you betrayed because Banpellyon fell?"
Spouting nonsense from open mouths, oblivious to the grace they'd received.
It was ridiculous from Havel's perspective.
"I'll say it again."
Havel slammed the table with a boom.
The marble surface shattered, splitting in half.
Tremendous force.
"Apologize for betraying Banpellyon and make reparations. Until the stench of treachery is scrubbed from your bones."
Only then did Havel quell his anger.
"Hahk, heuk!"
Released from the pressure, Polantia gasped for air.
His hand clutched his throat, eyes shaking wildly.
Pria's warning hadn't been exaggeration.
He didn't know if Havel's words were true.
No records confirmed it.
If they were, Glassis had much to be ashamed of.
'But I am Glassis.'
Even if all true, it was ancient history.
Banpellyon and Glassis now walked divergent paths.
"......Banpellyon fell, and Glassis rose to the Five Great Families."
So Polantia held firm.
"If you want war, you'll face Glassis alone. You know how that ends."
This was a threat.
No intent to apologize here.
Acknowledging that past would shake Glassis.
Polantia wouldn't allow it.
"Haha."
Havel laughed at him.
"We'll see who's longer or shorter."
And Havel was more confident in war than anyone.
He'd led Arhan's unification wars to victory, after all. Nothing scared him.
"Since you can't apologize right now, no helping it."
As Havel showed signs of relenting, Polantia sighed in relief.
Dealing with this man was mentally exhausting.
Though clearly much younger, he was oddly intimidating.
"Then let's talk compensation for losing the exhibition match through cowardice."
But Havel didn't rise.
The meeting wasn't over.
Polantia felt himself aging by the second.
"What do you want?"
Havel smiled.
"Nothing much."
He truly meant it.
Heading back after a successful meeting.
Dante followed behind Havel.
His mind swirled with questions.
He knew Havel was tied to Banpellyon.
Knew he wielded the lost Dawn Swordsmanship.
But to know history even Banpellyon had forgotten?
That made Dante all the more curious about him.
"Dante."
Then Havel called him.
"Yes."
"Aren't you wondering how I know all this?"
Dante blinked.
"I am."
He answered honestly.
It was true, after all.
"But if you don't want to tell me, I won't ask."
Havel was doing so much for Banpellyon.
If he wanted to keep it hidden, Dante would respect that.
It was his duty in return.
"That's you alright."
He'd raised one fine knight.
Havel looked up at the sky.
The sunset dyed it red.
The sky alone remained unchanged from a century ago.
'Maybe it really is ancient history.'
Clinging to betrayal when everyone from back then had died?
But he was still alive.
And might not die for ages to come.
Havel had become an immortal.
"Dante, I'll revive Banpellyon."
So he would revive Banpellyon.
"And someday, when Banpellyon regains its strength."
Havel paused.
"I'll tell you everything."
That would probably be his last day with Banpellyon.
With that thought, Havel started walking again.
To climb the Tower once more today.