Cooperation, Not Submission
Johan turned his horse's head back around. When he looked behind him, the surviving soldiers were screaming and scattering in every direction, and no amount of shouting from the squad captains could call them back. Behind them, Johan's own soldiers came surging forward like a tide. Izelia let out a sigh of resignation and threw down her sword. It was already over, and everyone could feel it.
"...I surrender. I ask only for honorable mercy."
Taking Cari Castle took less than two hours. They rounded up the lower nobles who had tried to flee, threw them in the cells, swapped out the banners, and with that the cleanup was more or less done. Johan sat in the castle's reception hall, surveying the people who had gathered before him.
Strictly speaking, Johan was not seated here as the new Count. He was the judge and commander dispatched by the Order. That was how everyone understood it, which was exactly why the Asada relatives wore such bright, hopeful faces. A foreigner who would dirty his hands on their behalf and then simply ride away — how could such a man not be a welcome sight?
Hurry up and drag Izelia off and deal with her.
Take the other retainers she brought with her, too!
But instead of rebuking or humiliating Izelia, Johan threw himself into a completely different kind of work. He reviewed the territorial registry, gathered maps, summoned the castle administrators — scribes, treasurers, the slave overseer — and sat down to talk business with each of them. Nothing but pointless busywork, as far as the relatives were concerned.
"Golen of House Asada wishes an audience with you, my lord."
"Tell him to wait. I'm busy."
Johan really was busy. If all he'd wanted was to seize the land by force, he could have done it far more crudely, but Johan was trying to acquire it with a bit more polish — and polish meant paperwork.
"I knew you would see it done, Sir. No — I suppose I ought to call you Your Excellency now."
The envoys from the Republic had been the first to reach the castle. They reported on the situation in the southwest and heaped praise on Johan's martial skill.
"When can we start using the port?"
"You'll have the permit within half a year. Don't worry."
At Johan's firm answer, the envoys' faces lit up. They had never expected things to roll along this smoothly. They had braced themselves to join the fighting, and Johan had ended the war with a stroke of lightning. They couldn't have been more grateful.
"Though the towns around here have ports far too small for their locations, from what I saw. What do you intend to do about that?"
"If you grant the permits, our engineers will come and build new ones. It's us who'll be using them, after all — it's only right we cover that much."
Cities with heavy trade traffic kept special districts reserved for foreigners. By custom, such districts were protected by charter rights, but the investment of building them also fell on the outsiders themselves.
"Oh..."
Johan paused. He had been planning, from the moment the expedition ended, to figure out how best to carve these people out of the deal — but hearing that, his thinking shifted somewhat.
I suppose I can afford to be a little more generous.
He hadn't even swallowed the whole county yet; there was no need to start cutting throats this early. Nodding to himself, Johan gave his assent.
"My lord!"
"!"
Golen shoved past the soldiers trying to hold him back and burst into the reception hall — then froze. There were strangers inside, several of them. Judging by their looks, they seemed to be from the Republic.
"Er..."
"What insolence is this?"
Johan's voice was ice. Under that frigid tone, Golen felt the marrow in his bones freeze over.
"I — I have words that must reach you, my lord. That is why I dared to be so discourteous."
"I don't know who you are, but why would you behave so rudely?"
The Republic's envoy spoke with open displeasure. The man looked like a landless petty noble of no title, and the audacity of him butting in was beyond absurd.
"Take him away. Confine him."
Golen, having vented his temper once and then come to his senses, had gone meek. The soldiers seized him by the arms and dragged him out. The Republic envoy clicked his tongue and said,
"If you mean to punish that man, just say the word. I'll testify against him."
"Much appreciated."
With Golen locked away, the other relatives came crawling out to pester him. Johan was beginning to seriously consider casting patience aside and starting with this lot.
Endure. You must endure...
Once the negotiations wrapped up, he could deal with all of them. So Johan endured.
"Well? How did it go?"
"For an elf he's big, and his body looks hard as stone. Doesn't strike me as an opponent worth much."
"...No, not that. The negotiations."
"Oh. That's what you meant? That part should be whatever you make of it."
"You did actually see him, didn't you?"
Suettelg pulled an aggrieved face. He'd gone all the way to look at the imprisoned acting count, and this was what he got for it.
"Why ask if you won't believe me?"
"It's just hard to believe that a man who could withstand his own kin going rabid would come to the table so willingly."
"Hmm."
Suettelg stroked his beard, picking his words with care. Then he spoke.
"You don't suppose he's compliant because you scared him half to death, raging about like a madman?"
"......"
Beside them, Kaenerna started snickering. Johan had nothing to say in his defense. Kaenerna wiped her eyes and opened her mouth.
"Probably the kid's fault. The relatives were pushing that too — use the daughter. Threaten him with her."
The first piece of advice the relatives had offered, Golen at their head, had been to leverage the daughter. Dangle her as a hostage, they said, and he'd confess his crimes and submit to trial without a fuss.
"They ought to worry about themselves first."
"True enough. Ah, right — do you want help intimidating her?"
"I'll call if I need it. I should manage on my own."
Izelia sat with a composed expression. When Johan entered, her brow furrowed. He was the knight who had gone berserk at the gates. The raid itself had been chaos, but that one knight's face was burned into her memory with perfect clarity.
She had spent her life learning and fighting as a knight, certain she lived far removed from fear — but that knight was fear itself. Her elite guard, handpicked and trained by her own hand, had crumbled in a single charge.
"Are you Sir Gerdolf of House Godan?"
"?"
Johan blinked. What was this about?
"Ah. Did you mistake me for Gerdolf? Gerdolf is another knight. I'm Johan of House Eitz."
"...?!"
Izelia was staggered. The supreme commander was this young?
No — more than that, was the supreme commander permitted to personally lead so reckless a raid?
"Is it proper for the supreme commander to join such a dangerous assault?"
"Would a knight let danger turn him from honor?"
Izelia nodded without thinking. Watching her, Johan thought to himself:
I must never let her command anything.
The elven nobles of the Kingdom of Erance had always been a people who defied his every expectation.
"My lord. I have had time to think, while confined."
"And what have you thought about?"
"Why the Order has moved against us. The other relatives of House Asada must have denounced us. Am I right?"
In this situation, missing the obvious would be a sign of a defective mind. Izelia had pieced together roughly what was unfolding around her.
"Correct. We don't move without such a denunciation."
"...Then if you swear on your honor to guarantee Amian Asada's safety, I will confess my crimes and cooperate with the trial."
"So you admit you committed a crime?"
"No!"
"If you didn't commit one, you shouldn't confess to it."
"...?"
Izelia couldn't follow. The man had come from the Order — why was he complicating the situation?
"Besides, even if I did guarantee Amian's safety, the territory would still be taken. Your relatives' eyes are wide open, I'm told."
"...There's nothing to be done about that. I've already accepted it."
"Good, then. That makes this easier to talk through."
"?"
Johan moved to the heart of the matter. The Order's judgment was one thing, but his true purpose in coming was this county itself — and for that, he needed Izelia's cooperation.
"...!"
Izelia stared at him in shock. It was an offer she had never imagined.
"Lying to me would accomplish nothing, so I'll be honest with you. The countship is going to end up in my hands regardless. The only things I can actually guarantee are your safety and your daughter's."
"Then why do you need me at all?"
"Because even when the prize is the same, taking it the easy way and taking it the hard way are two different things."
"......"
"If it's too much to decide right now, I can give you time. That's your daughter behind you, is it?"
A young elf was glaring at Johan. She clearly didn't understand what was happening, but she knew perfectly well who the invader was.
Johan found himself suddenly amused. A stepdaughter barely ten years his junior. It wasn't any stranger than plenty of things in the world, but still...
"Mind your manners, Amian."
At Izelia's words, Amian lowered her head. Johan waved a hand as if it were nothing.
"I'm not so narrow-minded as to take a child's anger personally. Are you training as a knight yourself?"
"No. She's interested in theology and medicine, so I've had her studying those."
"I see. Both fine fields of study. Come here."
"......"
"Go on."
At her mother's urging, Amian approached hesitantly, her eyes carrying a mixture of curiosity and fear. Johan hung a gift around her neck — a necklace of green beryl. The deep green stone was long said to repel wickedness and restore vigor. At this unexpected gift, Amian's face brightened.
"Thank her properly, Amian."
"Th-thank you."
"Oh, it's nothing to thank me for."
It was a treasure, to be sure, but not one purchased with Johan's money. It had belonged to the bishop anyway.
"If you wish it, Amian could be allowed to move about freely."
"No. Amian wants to stay here with me."
"......"
Amian glanced uncertainly at Izelia. Apparently, staying cooped up in these cramped quarters had worn on her more than she let on.
"It seems Amian disagrees."
"...Very well. Do as you like."
Izelia dropped her head. She had taken it for a threat — Johan dangling her daughter to squeeze her into compliance. What a terrifying man he was.
The sheer acumen of him, commanding an army at that age — and beyond that, the method by which he meant to swallow the territory whole. The world was thick with ambitious men, but those who advanced while properly tempering that ambition were vanishingly rare.
Izelia was genuinely afraid of Johan. Strangely, when she had believed him merely a knight of monstrous strength, he had frightened her less.
Johan, for his part, thought nothing of it. There had never seemed to be any need for pressure in the first place — what was all this talk of threats?
Better to get friendly early on, anyway.
"Now then — that's my friend there. A wolf."
When he showed her Karamap, Amian squealed with delight and threw herself at the beast. Karamap shook his body in irritation, but Amian, being an elf, clambered straight onto his back.
"I — I want to know his name! If he doesn't have one, I'd love to give him one!"
"Sorry to disappoint. His name is Karamap."
"Sir Karamap!"
"A fine knight, he is."
Johan said it out of consideration for the young elf. She was free to admire Karamap if she wished.
"But Mother calls him a fallen wretch and a worthless degenerate?"
"...Frankly, I thought so too."
When Johan agreed, Amian laughed. Children forget quickly and befriend quickly — it was simply their nature. Compared to the strict Izelia, Johan seemed far kinder and gentler.
...Though of course, that was only possible because she hadn't witnessed him rampaging at the castle gates...
Before long, word came from Izelia. She would accept the offer.
What greeted Johan when he hurried over in good spirits was Izelia, bowed low to the floor. At this unanticipated act of abasement, Johan faltered.
What is this? Is this a threat?
Was she pulling some petty scheme — staging this tableau where the servants would see it and ugly rumors would start to spread?
"I heard you accepted my offer?"
"I have. I will do as you wish."
"Then stand up, won't you?"
"Whatever you desire — anything you command, I will obey. Only please, keep your promise...!"
"...Did you eat something bad? I asked you to cooperate, not to grovel."
Naturally, an obedient counterpart made everything easier for Johan too, but this was rather unsettling.
What was going on?
Kaenerna, waiting outside, poked her head in.
"Looks like you could use some help?"
"Ah, Kaenerna. Any idea what's gotten into her?"
"Here — I'll gift you a lovely chain collar. Cursed piece, this. The Emperor once tried to fasten it on his lover..."
"......"
When word finally came that the trial would open, Golen and the relatives hurried over in high spirits. The man had dawdled so endlessly that they had pressed bribes into his hands time and again.
"Greedy wretches, the lot of them. Where does all that appetite come from?"
"Didn't those fellows have a rather unpleasant way of smiling?"
"That's barbarians for you."
Every time they handed over a bribe, the Eastern warriors had giggled among themselves in the Eastern Language, muttering "■■■". They couldn't understand a word of it, but somehow it left a bad taste in their mouths.
But what awaited them was a company of heavily armed dwarf mercenaries.
"Golen of House Asada! You are under arrest on charges of poisoning your own kin!"
"...You — you sold me out, didn't you? You bastards sold me out?!"