A Miraculous Change of Heart
While Gareld hesitated at the door, the bishop somehow managed to placate and calm Johan.
"Step outside for a moment, brother."
"But if that man attacks you, Your Grace..."
"I understand your concern, brother, but who in their right mind comes as an envoy and then attacks me? There are hundreds of warriors here."
Johan faltered at those words. The bishop took it as a flicker of worry, but in truth, it was not.
Whether it's a few hundred or a few thousand, I've done it before, haven't I...
Given his track record, the bishop's reassurance could only strike Johan as absurdly funny.
The people here had a narrow range of thinking. It wasn't a matter of rank or status — they simply lacked imagination.
It hardly mattered, though. Even Johan didn't think Sir Gareld looked likely to ambush the bishop.
And even if the bishop were seized, Johan had little to lose. To him, the bishop held no value as a hostage.
"Then I shall follow your instruction."
As Johan turned to leave, Gareld shot a hurried signal to his servant. Catching the meaning at once, the man gave a slight nod.
"Sir. There is something I must tell you in private."
At the servant's whisper the moment they stepped outside, Johan nodded.
"So you mean to say you'll turn to Biagione's side?"
"Ahem. Not to his side, Your Excellency — merely that I shall no longer oppose you."
Gareld spoke with careful precision. The two things looked similar but were quite different. One meant actively working from Biagione's camp; the other meant simply withdrawing from this fight.
Either way, it was welcome news to the bishop. The opposition had been banding together and spreading rumors through the city until he could hardly breathe...
"A shame, but so be it. If you learned the truth and changed your heart, that is enough."
"I am ashamed of myself. To be swayed about while knowing nothing."
"God will forgive you."
The two exchanged the customary courtesies, and Gareld came straight to the point.
"Your Excellency. Are you aware of what Sir Giordano and Sir Bucho are doing? They have been sending petitions to the Order. They are offering gold to spread ugly rumors about you."
"...!"
The bishop was startled. The political landscape of the Republic was so hopelessly tangled that one could be under attack without ever knowing who was striking whom.
The bishop was no exception.
He had known that many coveted the interests he held, but he had not known who was orchestrating this.
The gall... these two bastards...!
And to think these two were slandering him while bribing the Order on top of it.
"The insolence! What do they take this Biagione for!"
"Yes, Your Excellency. Punish them severely and... might I, by chance, take back my knights?"
"!"
Only now did the bishop grasp Gareld's true intent. The man hadn't even joined the fight, and he'd supplied intelligence on the enemy — and now he was asking, magnanimously, that his captured knights be released without ransom.
Gareld was desperately hiring soldiers to defend his newly seized lands on the Ulcana Peninsula. Imperial connections first, then mercenaries. Under these circumstances, losing trusted knights would be fatal.
"That is..."
When the bishop's face twisted into an awkward expression, Gareld felt a flicker of disbelief. This man wouldn't take everything he could get and then refuse, would he?
"Authority over those men lies with the mercenaries."
"Then perhaps you could persuade them on that point..."
"They are a rough, savage lot. It won't happen."
"If Your Excellency would only pay the ransom on their behalf..."
"And why should Biagione do that?!"
The bishop's face went hard as stone. The moment money entered the conversation, he had turned frostily cold. Gareld was flustered.
"My circumstances are not exactly favorable at present, you see."
"Then cut down the mercenaries you hired! The diocese is hardly flush either! I can barely manage to save the poor, and you ask where such treasure would come from!"
That sanctimonious son of a bitch, honestly...
The whole city knew how rich he was, and he spouted this nonsense with a straight face. Gareld seethed inside. He despised these Republic men from top to bottom. Men with not a shred of honor among them.
"...Very well, Your Excellency. I spoke out of turn."
Hm. Why was I listening to this again?
Gareld's covert visit hadn't surprised him. The servant had warned him in advance. Without the bishop's knowledge, the two men had already exchanged intentions.
From the moment he arrived, Gareld had tried desperately to win Johan over, recounting everything the bishop had suffered. Johan had intended to ignore him at first, but when Gareld clung on with stubborn persistence, he changed his mind.
What would happen if he showed signs of yielding here?
As Johan slowly, gradually shifted — reacting with 'Outrageous!', 'No, still, surely not...', 'Truly?', 'That's too far!' — Gareld lit up like a man possessed.
At last, he had found someone who actually listened. A fellow man of Imperial blood — of course they got along. Those beastfolk of this peninsula, every last one of them...
Emboldened, Gareld poured out more and more. The bishop's situation, the city's situation, the men driving the bishop to the wall... It was a kind of venting.
"Dear me, to treat a knight so... these Republic men know nothing of honor."
"Exactly what I've been saying!"
Johan realized the bishop's situation was worse than he'd assumed. He was under ferocious attack from the Order for whatever corruption he'd committed, and the rumors in the city were sour as well.
If the bishop's seat slipped away from him here, it would be quiet retirement and hiding in some corner.
Good thing I took the payment up front.
Johan felt reassured that he had already collected from the bishop. Even if the bishop retired in destitution, Johan and his men could leave on cheerful terms.
"...It's truly a pity, when we get along so well. Tell me, Sir — would you not consider taking up the sword alongside me?"
By now, Gareld knew exactly who he was talking to.
The Troll-Slayer of Marcel — even he had heard the rumor once.
At the time he'd been half convinced it was idle gossip, but if the man had become the Duke's banneret, he clearly possessed real skill.
His identity was beyond question and his renown was considerable — there was nothing to lose by drawing him in. The warriors who followed him were impressive too...
But Johan answered with a sorrowful expression.
"I fear that would be impossible."
"Why so?"
"You are a man of the Emperor's faction, are you not? If Duke Brudhe heard I was consorting with Imperialists, his wrath would be terrible."
"N-no, what! I am no Imperialist!"
"You are not?"
"O-of course, a few of the knights who ride with me are His Majesty's vassals. They are surely Cardirian's men. But that is purely because our aims align — I myself am no Imperialist. If anything, the others in the city are the Emperor's men, while I stand apart from..."
Driven by his greed to reel Johan in, Gareld began denying it with total conviction. And Johan, with practiced skill, fanned that desire.
"Is that so? I once heard the Duke remark that Sir Gareld was a truly regrettable knight. That if only you had not been the Emperor's man, he would have summoned you to meet face to face."
"H-he really said that??"
"Would I lie to you? I am the banneret of the honorable Brudhe and the Duke's own knight. And your name has been spoken by Lord Hormaric as well."
"L-Lord Hormaric too?"
"Indeed. Lord Hormaric and I are on the closest of terms. He resides not far away, so we correspond often."
Johan's face showed not the slightest trace of a liar.
Moreover, his lies were calibrated to perfection. The Duke once mentioned it. The Duke's son spoke of it. Lies of that shape sounded entirely plausible.
"I... I have never liked Cardirian's rule! He is a tyrant of the south. A vile man who has no respect for the honor of the nobility. To be counted in the same camp as such a man — I cannot bear it! If anything, I revere Duke Brudhe."
"Truly?"
"Of course! S-Sir Johan. Might I one day be granted an audience with the Duke? I have long admired his illustrious name."
"You are busy with your own affairs — when would you make the journey to Bayen? How about meeting Lord Hormaric instead? If it were a matter of meeting you, he would gladly come all this way."
"...!"
Gareld was on the verge of tears. In this city he was a noble, yes, but his outsider origins meant he was shoved around at every turn.
And now, opportunity had come knocking.
That the Duke's own son would seek him out personally astounded him all the more. No one could invent such a lie. For a man who had been a nobody knight in the Empire, the name of House Brudhe wielded absolute power.
"He will... he will come to see me? Truly?"
"Of course."
"I will trust... I will trust only you, Sir!"
"Trust only me."
Johan nodded with a satisfied expression. An unexpected windfall. This city noble would serve as a most convenient card for Johan, who had no connections of his own.
"I-I only came to plead for my knights' lives..."
"Think it over, Sir. What would Duke Brudhe make of you consorting with the Emperor's knights?"
"Y-yes, quite right. You speak truly."
"If House Orlon or the other knightly houses press you, answer them firmly. Say that they mocked a bishop who serves God and committed acts unbecoming of knights."
Heard from the standpoint of House Orlon and the other knightly houses, it was enough to drive a man mad.
When they'd been begging on their knees for aid, all was well — and now he was to sever every tie at a stroke?
But intoxicated by the Duke's halo, Gareld could not entertain such thoughts. Let those country bumpkins from the southern half of this peninsula squawk all they liked.
"So I shall!"
After Gareld departed, Swetlg and Kaernach emerged from behind the tent wearing expressions of sheer disbelief. Kaernach looked Johan up and down the moment she stepped out.
"?"
"...You didn't use magic, did you?"
Whatever the outcome, Gareld's visit seemed to have given the bishop fresh hope. One of his enemies had, after all, just handed him intelligence.
He began moving with greater vigor and energy.
However I look at it, nothing seems to have actually changed...
It was a delicious irony that Johan — a rank outsider compared to the bishop, who knew the Republic inside and out — was the one assessing the situation with a cool head. When it becomes one's own affair, a man's eyes are bound to cloud over.
The rumors in the city remained as ugly as ever, and the Order's proceedings to strip his bishopric were moving forward. Unless this was resolved, nothing else mattered.
If he truly wanted to try something, wouldn't he have to spend his entire fortune on bribes and handouts to the city's people?
It would cost hundreds of times what he'd paid to hire Johan and the mercenaries. Donations to the city's poor, bribes to the Order — that was what it would take.
But Johan didn't bother saying it. Above all, he was certain the bishop wouldn't listen. The man would sooner hang himself than spend his entire fortune.
Some people, rather than throw everything they own onto the gambling table, would rather clutch their chips to their chests and sink with them.
"Thinking on it, brother — your actions seem to have improved matters."
"I'm glad to hear it, Your Grace."
"God's love follows you, brother."
"Ah, yes."
At present, Johan had picked out only a few dozen men to move alongside the bishop. It was for the purpose of entering Venedo itself.
Aclada, Euclia, Marco, and the like had been left outside to keep the rest in line. Johan brought only Gerulf along as his companion.
"Do not be alarmed by what you see inside the city, brother."
"Yes, Your Grace."
The bishop, evidently aware of his own rumors, warned Johan repeatedly. If Johan wavered upon hearing them, disaster would follow.
The bishop was on his way to negotiate now. He knew the names of his enemies; sit down with them, and all of this could be brought to a close.
I doubt they'll accept, short of being out of their minds...
That was what Johan thought. From every angle, the bishop held the weaker hand — why on earth would the other side take the deal?
-Vile degenerate! Begone!
-The bishop's corruption gave me my sickness! Begone, bishop!
-The demon prowling this city is your doing as well!
-The bishop took gold and freed criminals!
Several dozen vagrants had come out to shriek at the top of their lungs. These beggars and vagrants, the very dregs of the city, were summoned out whenever anything happened and assigned their important roles.
Perfectly suited talent for staging protests, inciting riots, and making threats!
The way they'd appeared the instant the bishop arrived, as though they'd been lying in wait — the intent was obvious to anyone with eyes.
-The Troll-Slayer of Marcel! That knight is the Troll-Slayer of Marcel!
-Who's that?
-The knight who cut off the head of the troll that appeared in Marcel!
-He's clearly come to catch the demon haunting this city!
-They say he summons holy fire through prayer! And at such a young age!
"...?"
When people in the crowd suddenly began nodding knowingly about him, Johan himself was thrown off balance. The rumors were strange too — it felt as though someone were deliberately pumping him up.
Ah. So that's the game.
Johan caught sight of a familiar face among the crowd and smirked. It was Gareld's servant. Gareld had apparently answered in kind and hired his own people.
Almost cute, that move.