Chapter 28
Chapter 28
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 28
Chapter Title: The Elf and the Coffee Farm (5)
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So, what do you think?”
“It’s certain he’s of noble birth.”
Armin, looking at the spot where Julius Lebedev had left, crossed his arms and tapped his fingers against his arm as he asked his wife. His wife answered with a face close to expressionless.
Armin, nodding with his eyes closed, opened the window and lit a cigar. From the beginning, the northern region of this place is close to harsh land. The desert centered around Labyrinth City Astraea has problems with its soil, so there isn’t even a proper lake or oasis, and the rain that falls pierces through the sand and flows along the outer wall of the Labyrinth to elsewhere, so there is no groundwater either.
The monsters that survived in such an environment develop the habit of eating sufficiently whenever there is food, so naturally they eat humans and are extremely ferocious.
Because of that, the fact that he came down alone from the north without even causing damage to horses or carriages confirmed that he was absurdly strong. If so, then a knight or a mage. Perhaps even a noble.
“I think it was already over the moment he immediately recognized the subtly mixed court language. That means he was at least a noble or worked in the capital of a nation.”
“Well, even aside from martial ability, it’s equally hard to believe that someone both exceptionally strong and of excellent birth would be traveling alone driving a carriage like that.”
“He didn’t seem to have any particular business with us, and he’s probably really heading to the large-scale farm to the southwest… Diber?”
“The guard who saw him off leaving the territory today said so. If he happens to solve our problem as well while he’s at it, that’d be nice.”
After pausing the conversation for a while and smoking his cigar, Armin quietly crushed out the cigar and looked at the sky through the window.
It was clear weather without a single cloud.
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"We fucked up spectacularly."
"Your Majesty. Please refine your language."
"Fuck off. I told you to compose music for celebrating new auspicious events, and you bring back some uselessly bombastic crap. Do artists always sprout thorns in their mouths unless they cram in their own self-indulgent tastes they jerk off to?"
"Genius types always have some quirk or another. Please understand."
"There are plenty of perfectly sane geniuses in this world—what bullshit is that?"
He had planned to have the piece performed today as they set off for Labyrinth City Astraea, since it was supposedly finished. But instead of anything fitting, out came a tune so dull it would bore people to yawns even during church services. So the Emperor of the Pallan Empire, Alina, had lined up the musicians upon her return, planning to pick her teeth with their finger bones.
Of course, even she had once thought, around age ten, that everything grand and massive was great. But artists who couldn't shake that childish habit even after growing up just looked like idiots to her now.
"Investing in something the commoners can't even use is pointless. The public response would be greater if we burned those guys alive or held public executions instead of playing this garbage."
"Executions are a traditional spectacle, after all."
"Exactly. At least they'd be better than this execution of taste."
The Emperor of the Pallan Empire didn't hold absolute authority. For one, independent Labyrinth City Astraea anchored the center, and the surrounding badlands limited direct influence from the capital to the provinces.
To properly wield power even once required astronomical sums for transfer gates just to dispatch auditors to the locals—what a nightmare.
About two hundred years ago, to address this, they had planted inspectors disguised as commoners in each province, passing letters hand-to-hand like a towel relay. But routing around the desert made it far too slow.
Envoys from the center often became monster chow, or local lords executed them without a trace.
Endless efforts to exert influence over Astraea had failed right up until she inherited the throne—that was the main thread of Pallan imperial history.
"Is Astraea favorable to my visit?"
"No overt backlash or discord on the surface."
"Good enough. As long as they know I'm not there to curb their freedoms."
"There is some concern on that front."
"Hah. That Adventurer Guild Master—is it because she's a cat beastkin? Why's she so damn guarded?"
Grumbling under her breath, she waved and smiled at the subjects seeing her off from the capital. Then she ducked back into the carriage, snorting and blowing air through her nose.
Outwardly, she played the kind, gentle young empress the masses wanted. In truth, she was foul-mouthed and brutally direct.
"Come to think of it, I haven't had updates in a while."
"Yes."
"Any leads on Lebedev?"
"We've deemed it low priority and are investigating slowly, but shall we commit more manpower?"
"No need. It's not important. But if it's been a year with no trace, he's probably not in the kingdom anymore."
Lebedev Duke's paternal affection was famous. Indeed, Julius, three years her junior, was exceptional enough for the duke to claim he surpassed even himself.
His innate talents were extraordinary, but the character and charisma honed by effort and self-control gave him an air twice his age.
His meticulous diligence and kindness bordered on obsessive at times, feeling eerie, but it wasn't an issue in daily life, so no major flaw.
Word of such a man fleeing the Royal Academy had spread to neighboring states. Despite thorough searches and warrants across the kingdom, no sign meant he'd left the country.
Unless he'd defected to the demonkin shouting 'I hate humans!', he was likely in neighboring Pallan Empire. But finding him proved harder than expected.
"Hiding well, isn't he."
"It's really due to our weak influence in the empire's frontiers."
"Fuck. Even shouting 'emperor' doesn't help—provincial tours where the lords outshine you in popularity."
"We don't exactly bestow much on the provinces anyway."
"You're full of truths today. Wanna die?"
"Lay a blade on my neck, and the palace erupts."
"I know, fucker."
As a child, she'd brimmed with confidence and ambition. But becoming emperor revealed endless frustrations. Ministers ignored her, provincials did as they pleased, any action drew mass opposition.
Her reform drives and imperial power expansions spun their wheels. No wonder—her father wasn't an idiot kowtowed to by all, just sitting idle till he croaked.
The prime minister stuck to her side was less minister, more noble frontman, showing dog-like attitudes she couldn't touch.
This Astraea trip too—if she found something prestige-boosting, those foxes would nitpick excuses to nationalize or exclude it. Damn old geezer.
"...More importantly, is it fine for the prime minister to be away?"
"The Pallan Empire's system runs smoothly even without the prime minister or Your Majesty."
"Makes me wanna fire you on the spot."
"Heh, easier said than done."
As he said, without council nobles and tribunes' consent, even dismissing the prime minister was impossible. The emperor held power rivaling or exceeding the assembled nobles' authority—but conversely, anything unanimously opposed by all excluding her was untouchable.
And truthfully, no power blocs or figures in the palace truly backed her yet.
She could physically behead the chuckling prime minister before her, but the fallout? Unbearable.
If only she had one decent blade.
"I don't wanna stare at your old mug even in the carriage. Mind moving elsewhere?"
"Indeed, Your Majesty is at marriageable age."
"Not your business."
"It's a national matter—how could we not care?"
"I'll pick my own husband, so fuck off."
As the imperial procession stretched long, the minister in the center carriage smoothly shifted to one with other attendants. Ancient as he was, befitting the nobles' leader, he hopped over effortlessly.
At his utterly infuriating behavior, the emperor ruffled her long silver hair vigorously.
"Tch. Ruined my mood for no reason."
Alina's Astraea visit had two main goals. One, publicly stated: discovering something to make a trend and hallmark of the empire. The other: recruiting talent competent yet unentangled in the power structure.
Of course, those sly foxes knew her aims, so they'd stuck their ringleader on her.
"Hah, let's see who wins."
The moment she gained a legitimate blade to wield, she'd carve him up without mercy.