Chapter 179

Translator: Willia

“More is at stake in the War of Imperial Succession than you might think. The question of who the rightful Emperor is is only the issue on the surface.”

The room was dim. On an old table sat a bottle of liquor, two empty glasses, and a single candle. Its flame faintly illuminated the objects around it and the two people seated there.

The man who had just spoken was Paolo. As for the other man, the candlelight reached only his mouth and chin, while everything above them was covered in black shadow, making it difficult to tell who he was.

Perhaps because their surroundings were so dark, their voices naturally dropped as well. It lent the conversation the secretive air of men murmuring the name of a demon.

Paolo continued.

“Duke Brummbar supports the Second Prince in order to consolidate his own power. His lands border the Margrave of Beringen to the north and Duke Frederia to the south. Apparently, the Second Prince has promised that if he becomes Emperor, he’ll abolish Duke Frederia’s title altogether and turn his domain into a collection of minor lordships. From Duke Brummbar’s perspective, that would eliminate one powerful rival.”

Duke Brummbar was Count Caldebern’s liege lord. By the nature of the Feudal System, if Duke Brummbar followed the Second Prince, his Vassals beneath him would naturally be seen as following his lead as well.

That did not mean, however, that the Vassals beneath him followed without thoughts of their own.

That was what made the Feudal System so complicated. Everyone had different interests and different ideas.

The problem here was that Count Caldebern was Duke Brummbar’s Vassal, while the Stormhertz line of Caldebern followed the Count.

At Paolo’s words, the man whose upper face had been hidden in black shadow leaned slightly forward. He placed both hands on the table and loosely interlaced his fingers.

The face revealed by the candlelight belonged to none other than Ricardt. His eyes, gleaming like oiled steel in the firelight, were fixed on Paolo.

“What I want to know is what Count Caldebern is thinking. Why is Iron Arm Randell staying at the Count’s castle? I don’t care in the slightest about Dukes and Margraves fighting among themselves for power. Do you not understand what I’m saying?”

His voice was low and his manner composed, but there was a faint rebuke in his tone. Paolo could not withstand the restrained anger beneath it and found himself unable to look Ricardt directly in the eye.

Lowering his gaze, he said,

“......Finding out information that closely guarded will take time. But if I may offer my personal opinion, I suspect his goal is to absorb the family Your Majesty came from. They may be bound by marriage, but your power must make him uneasy. He is probably afraid that he might be the one absorbed instead.”

Ricardt withdrew the faintly hostile look he had been giving Paolo, turned his head, and stared silently into the darkness. He found himself wishing he had a cigarette to smoke.

Truthfully, after hearing that, Ricardt understood what Count Caldebern intended. It was only his own conviction, unsupported by proof, but he had no need for evidence.

This was not a trial. It was a matter of life and death, especially when one’s family was at stake. Mere suspicion was more than enough reason to attack someone. Even if that suspicion proved wrong, surviving came first.

They could talk all they liked about noble etiquette, honor, and all the rest, but in the end, it was still the law of the wild. A world that ran on grudges, revenge, and things of that sort.

For people living in such a world, the Stormhertz family had an almost excessive streak of innocence. Perhaps it was because they came from such a remote backwater.

In any case, Count Caldebern’s family and the Stormhertz branch of the Caldebern Family were at once one family and two separate houses. They had split through divided inheritance around the time of a great-grandfather or perhaps a great-great-grandfather, so they were still quite closely related by blood.

But power could make even parents and children turn their swords on one another, so who cared whether the split had happened in the time of a great-grandfather or a great-great-grandfather? Even if his own daughter had married into the other branch, a man could discard her readily enough when power was at stake.

“If he sends hired swords in during the chaos of war and wipes out the whole family, absorbing their house afterward would be easy.”

The whole world knew that Ricardt had risen to prominence. But he had left the family, and more recently had even founded a new dynasty of his own, so they seemed to have judged that he had no grounds to interfere.

Ordinarily, second sons who left their families had no obligation to protect the houses they came from. And they did not. To put it plainly, they lived as strangers to one another.

Contrary to that custom, Ricardt continued to care about the family he had been born into purely out of personal affection. It had nothing to do with interests or power.

That was also why he had founded the Master Alliance. Whether they came from Beringen Academy or the Viola Clan, its members had joined to protect themselves from other major powers, but Ricardt had created the organization to protect the house of his father and elder brother. Maintaining peace was merely a secondary effect, not its purpose.

One fortunate thing was that when Ricardt had fought the Second Prince across the river, Caldebern had not yet entered the war.

Even if there had been no personal animosity between them, had they fought then, it would have been no different from Ricardt severing ties with his father and elder brother.

“Forming the Alliance itself is already somewhat dangerous. But if the knights become involved as well, matters could grow much larger. It will look as though you’re siding with the Fifth Prince.”

“You mean I’d effectively be entering the war.”

“That is correct. Regardless of Your Majesty’s actual intentions. Once a man rises high enough, people inevitably see his actions differently from how he intends them.”

Fighting a battle was not the problem. But depending on what kind of war it was, there would inevitably be pain and effort that had to be endured. Not by Ricardt alone, but by the entire kingdom of Adeloron.

In short, Count Caldebern was currently trying to bring the One-Eye Clan, meaning Iron Arm Randell, into his fold so that he could absorb Stormhertz.

But Ricardt’s position as king, along with all the complicated issues tangled up in it, made intervening in the matter difficult in many ways.

“Do you think Randell has noticed our existence?”

Ricardt, who had been silently thinking to himself, asked Paolo.

“He’ll probably be starting to realize that something is strange around now. But he won’t figure out who we are anytime soon.”

The One-Eye Clan knew nothing about the Master Alliance. That was because immediately after its formation, the Alliance had launched a surprise attack and annihilated one of the clan’s gathering points.

They had killed everyone so thoroughly that no report could have gotten through. By now, the clan would likely be wondering why orders were not getting through and why no reports were coming back.

“How about this?”

Paolo spoke.

“How?”

“Since you’ve formed the Alliance anyway, establish its headquarters in Stormhertz. Persuade your father and obtain his permission. If there are still suspicious movements after that, eliminate Randell and the Count as well. If trouble arises during the process or afterward, mobilize the knights and settle it militarily. If you wipe out the Count’s entire household in one swift stroke, the right of succession will pass to Your Majesty’s father. The Stormhertz branch will take control of the entire Caldebern Family.”

“......It makes sense, but I don’t like it.”

“What part?”

“I don’t know whether Father would allow it, and no matter how you look at it, we’d be killing our own kin. I know there isn’t a king in the world who hasn’t killed his relatives. But I still don’t feel good about following that same fate.”

Unless Ricardt genuinely trusted someone, he never revealed his deepest thoughts. Yet without realizing it, he had let some of them slip in front of Paolo.

His mind kept telling him to hold Paolo at a distance, but there was simply no one else around him with a comparable level of insight.

Paolo might have looked like an enormous toad, but he was surprisingly sharp and perceptive. More importantly, his way of thinking ran remarkably close to Ricardt’s own.

When Ricardt unwittingly showed that side of himself, Paolo stared at him for a moment before speaking.

“Why did you form the Alliance?”

“To protect my family.”

“If you’ve chosen your course, then commit to it. You are not acting like a king. Everyone becomes weak when it comes to the people they love. But to love someone or something ultimately means drawing a line between what you love and everything you do not. If that is so, then draw that line without hesitation.”

“And now you’re acting as my adviser too, Paolo.”

“Do you know why I chose you as my king? A man like me will not obey merely because someone tries to force him into doing something. If I do not choose to follow of my own accord, I will not. And yet I chose you because you were different from other men. Not simply because you were the strongest man in the world.”

“What was different?”

“Your discernment. You were not ruled by desire, nor did you deny desire. You never held justice up as a banner, and yet you were just. Your Majesty merely walked the path of a king, and justice and goodness followed in your wake. But now, I fear your discernment is becoming clouded.”

Paolo generally made little effort to hide himself, but now he seemed to be speaking with more personal emotion mixed into his words than usual.

Ricardt had thought him cold and calculating through and through, so hearing the man speak with such passion struck him as strangely amusing. A faint laugh slipped out.

“All right. Don’t get angry. You’re frightening me.”

“My apologies.”

“But I’m afraid I have something unpleasant to tell you. I chose you because I intended to use you, Paolo. You know that, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“And you know what I mean to use you for?”

“Use every skill I possess, and when you no longer need me, cast me aside.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what is it?”

“I was just curious. Why does every war come with plunder? Is there no way to get rid of it? Why can’t the nobles who wage these wars simply gather among themselves, fight it out, and leave it at that? Why do so many people have to suffer and taste tragedy?”

Ricardt spoke while staring half-vacantly into the candle flame.

“While traveling through the Holy Land and the Lunadan region, I learned one thing. I thought, Ah, if armies and merchants moved together, maybe things would at least be a little better. Merchants could enter new regions and make money, and if I took a certain share of that money, wouldn’t that be better than the alternative? I thought it might work rather well if I did it together with you, Paolo. But there’s something you need to understand too. As the trading sphere expands, internal strife will eventually erupt even within the Benicio Trading Company. Why would merchants be any different? You’ll be the first one they suspect.”

“......”

“And while I believe in using everything that can be used, I do not exploit another person’s trust. If Bori, Ice, and Volka are friends who shared my childhood, then I consider you a friend who can speak with me as an intellectual equal, Paolo. I do not betray my friends. Even if a friend betrays me. Because I can handle it.”

Paolo said nothing. He showed no visible sign of being moved. He simply remained silent, his eyes seemingly lost in deep thought.

Ricardt took hold of the sword that had been propped against the wall and rose from his seat. As he did, he spoke.

“If what you say is true, money will someday sweep away all the kings of the world. But I found myself thinking that might actually be better. I don’t know why.”

Ricardt unfastened the belt that had been wound around the scabbard and wrapped it around his waist.

“Count Caldebern is going to die. It was never something I needed to make up my mind about. It just leaves a bad taste. If anything messy is left afterward, I’ll leave the cleanup to you, Paolo. Nothing cleans blood better than gold.”

With those final words, Ricardt walked away and descended a staircase. The old wooden floor creaked beneath his steps.

As though it had been abandoned, the first floor was an old tavern with no customers, no employees, and no proprietor.

Ricardt crossed it and opened the door, only for light so bright it seemed unreal to stab suddenly into his eyes. He had not realized it while indoors, but astonishingly, outside it was broad daylight in the middle of a forest.

He frowned, but his eyes quickly adjusted to the light. When he opened them again, he saw people armed with all manner of weapons and swords waiting both near and far.

Roy approached, leading Ricardt’s red horse. Ricardt sprang lightly into the saddle. As he guided the horse slowly along the forest path, the others followed behind him.

Before long, the forest came to an end. Beyond it, the view that opened before Ricardt was Stormhertz, his hometown.

His eternal refuge of the heart and the home of his soul.

With the men away at war, the elderly, the women, and the children could be seen struggling to scrape together a living.

Ricardt rode there first. It was as though a stroke of red paint were being brushed across the pastoral landscape.

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