Chapter 60
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 60
Chapter Title: Stop the Group Bullying! (2)
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The evaluation of the spicy chicken stew was much better than expected.
It earned praise as not bad for a new flavor. Yuren and Bayard devoured it most enthusiastically. That said, not everyone enjoyed it. Clara didn't like it.
Too salty, or something like that. She just picked out a few vegetables and ate those. Well, tastes differ from race to race. Someone as experienced as Cluna wouldn't be picky about any food.
By elven standards, Clara wasn't particularly old. Next time, it might be worth cooking separately with her preferences in mind. I nodded and spoke up.
"Then next time, we'll serve it milder."
"I'd appreciate that!"
"Just eat whatever's given."
"Why are you so cold only to me, Helia?"
"It's obvious! 'Cause you're a cheeky little imp!"
Lately, Helia had been hanging out a lot with Clara and Ruby. They'd naturally grown close enough to drop the formalities. I smiled at the sight. A good sign.
In the original story, Helia had plenty of fans. But she also had her share of haters. She was overly obsessed with power, causing trouble for those around her. In the worst cases, she even betrayed them.
Those who truly despised her sometimes called her "Hell-trash" as a slur. I wasn't quite that harsh, but honestly, my first impression of her hadn't been great.
The reason Helia fixated so much on strength was to overcome her past. Her village had burned down, leaving her the sole survivor—a vengeful wraith obsessed with revenge.
I could understand why the original Helia turned out that way. But did those flaws really need to stick around? If they could be fixed, shouldn't they be?
"Helia's brightened up a lot."
"She has."
"Thanks, Cluna."
"I didn't do anything."
"I know you put in a ton of effort."
Cluna had been the first to notice Helia's unstable mental state. Maybe it was because she was the only one in the Royal Knights with a child. Or maybe she was just quick on the uptake.
Either way, we'd consulted with each other and poured effort into guiding Helia down the right path. Now, those efforts were starting to bear fruit, bit by bit. Thanks to that, we'd all survived.
If it'd just been me, I never could've handled her like this. I thanked Cluna once more, then shifted my gaze to Bayard. She wore a dazed expression.
"Bayard, something wrong?"
"Ah, no, nothing."
"Alright. Speak up if there is."
"S-sorry for worrying you..."
"Always so lacking in confidence! Time for training!"
At the worry in Bayard's voice, Yuren let out a hearty laugh and slapped her back with resounding pats. Living together had taught me one thing: Yuren had zero tact.
Make that a severe lack.
But in a way, it made sense. Humans don't bother reading ants' moods. Why would the world's strongest race, dragons, give a damn about the feelings of weaker ones?
Of course they wouldn't.
That meant they were probably lacking in political savvy, too. But it didn't matter much. Dragons had overwhelming might on their side. Even now, Bayard couldn't budge an inch.
And that was despite her heart having been ripped out, leaving her greatly weakened. No doubt about it—the captaincy belonged to Yuren. Her raw power was simply unmatched.
Her lack of tact was a drawback—make that a major one—but appointing Cluna as vice-captain would cover that. Cluna's strength rivaled an average dragon's; she was incredibly formidable.
Unlike Yuren, she had a wealth of experience to draw on. In short, she was the only one who could properly support Yuren and rein in any rampages. Things were finally coming together.
"The Royal Knights' reconstruction isn't far off."
"Captain? A messenger bird brought a letter."
"Messenger bird? From where?"
"Judging by the crest... it's from the Rat Tribe."
The Rat Tribe. The foremost of the Twelve Tribes—the alliance of twelve beastkin clans—and leaders of the confederation. They weren't particularly strong physically for beastkin. But they were exceptionally cunning.
The setting materials mentioned that the blood kin of their leader could rarely awaken the power to glimpse the future. Fat lot of good it did them. In the original story, they were already wiped out.
They fared better than the Dwarf Republic, at least. But the beastkin weren't exactly thriving. Six of the Twelve Tribes had betrayed the rest and sided with the demons.
That was how Bayard's Bear Tribe had managed to ascend to the Twelve. And now, the Rat Tribe—their de facto leaders—had suddenly sent me a letter. Why?
I unfolded the letter Cluna handed me. It was surprisingly detailed; I was caught off guard. In summary, they proposed a meeting to foster exchanges.
"A meeting for exchanges, huh. Looks like our reputation's recovering bit by bit, thanks to wiping out that doppelganger horde before."
The Royal Knights, once thought utterly fallen, were showing signs of revival. Word had spread to the various races and nations—at least to this extent. They were still wary and keeping their distance, though.
Once we fully restored our prestige and rebuilt the Royal Knights, the other races wouldn't hesitate to offer support. Honestly, I wasn't even aiming that high.
I just hoped the Royal Knights name could endure. That we could somehow clean up this mess. For those reasons, an exchange meeting was out of the question.
"Too bad. We're swamped; I can't make it."
"I figured as much, Captain~."
"Decline politely. I'm counting on you, Cluna."
"Leave it to me."
Perfect. I had no clue about diplomacy. But Cluna, with all her experience, could turn them down without ruffling feathers. With that settled, I glanced over.
In the inner courtyard's training ground, Bayard was getting utterly demolished by Yuren.
Oh boy.
Cluna had handled countless matters as a guardian of the forest. As a forest warden, she hadn't strayed far often. But she had left when necessary.
Most commonly for exchanges and trade with other races. A few times for war, too. Especially in the distant past, full-scale conflicts had nearly erupted more than once.
If the Dwarf Republic was a charging wild boar, the Twelve Tribes—especially the Rat Tribe—were like stealthy serpents. They'd slowly inject venom to weaken their prey, then devour it whole.
If Cluna hadn't caught on first, the elves would've lost more than half their territory with eyes wide open. That was the level of scheming the Rat Tribe wielded.
"Too bad. We're swamped; I can't make it."
And it seemed the captain knew all that. Cluna grasped it instantly. Decline with a suitable excuse. The captain was wise indeed. Better to avoid entanglements.
Especially now, with their foundations so shaky. They weren't on the verge of starving without aid just yet. From that perspective, the captain's choice was spot-on. Keep their wings unbound.
"Decline politely. I'm counting on you, Cluna."
One misstep, and they'd end up like birds in a cage. By now, Cluna had a rough guess at the captain's past. But she'd keep it under wraps. This wasn't something to speak of lightly.
Cluna carried out the captain's orders to perfection. Just as instructed, she penned a polite refusal and sent it via messenger bird. That letter now lay in her hands.
[However, regrettably, we have no time to spare. If you're truly keen on exchanges, by all means, visit the fortress yourselves.]
"This is..."
"Never dreamed they'd refuse so brazenly."
A gray-haired girl smiled at the letter atop her wooden desk. Her gray locks were tied into a ponytail with a hairpin.
She wore a thin dress of navy fabric. She appeared a beauty at first glance. Until one met her utterly vacant eyes. Anyone would think the same—up to that point.
"What? How's this a refusal? We invited them!"
"She's the leader of the Twelve Tribes. How could the confederation's lord deign to go all the way there herself?"
"Then why send a letter like that?"
"They knew we couldn't come, so it was just a formality. In simple terms..."
"A blatant cold shoulder."
For her—the pinnacle of the Twelve Tribes and lord of the alliance—to venture into the dangerous outside world herself? Utterly unthinkable by common sense. But not now. The girl smiled as she spoke.
"I was hoping to catch up with old friends after so long. But with an invitation like this, going myself is only proper."
"It's dangerous! You can't!"
"We don't think. We merely follow."
The round beast ears atop the girl's head twitched. She'd had zero interest before. But this letter changed that. The elegant script carried a message of unyielding resolve.
As expected of the Royal Knights' captain.
Not there by accident.