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180. Childhood Friend – Both Sides

Reb rode the horse.

He boldly broke through the main gate, leaving behind the bewildered young barbarians who were shocked by his brazen declaration.

– Dwinor Tribe: A tribe that cultivates the mountains. Not many warriors. They believe in a god named ‘Ailethia’. Hostile towards outsiders.

On the previously stolen map from the thug leader of the Dorph Family, it was written like this.

In cramped handwriting, the characteristics of the tribe were summarized, but after scouting the village, Reb discovered a flaw in it.

There are many warriors.

The villagers emerged from their homes at the shouts of the young men guarding the main gate. Among them, I could see someone who looked to be around forty, armed.

“Where’s the Chief? Show me the way.”

Reb threw down his sword sheath. Right in the middle of the village. The sheath dropped with a thud in front of the villagers, and Reb acted as if he was already being guided, even making the gathered warriors halt.

The Chief must be over there.

Reb approached the largest house. Most likely, it would be the Chief’s, and he was correct. A middle-aged warrior with five leather straps around his waist came out and glared at Reb. He looked like he was ready to bark orders, but the Chief held his tongue.

“Are you a knight? What is this ruckus?”

“Wrong.”

“Excuse me?”

“I am a general before I am a knight. I represent all the natives of this land and have come to offer you a proposal.”

“…What is it?”

Reb raised his voice for everyone to hear.

“I will bring down the Orun Kingdom. The tyranny of the kingdom that captures the natives and turns them into slaves will end this year. I hope that you, the Dwinor Tribe, will join me, as many tribes are already with me.”

Over three hundred villagers stirred. Some young men glowed with excitement at Reb’s declaration, while some old men shook their heads in disbelief.

“Decide. Will you reclaim your right to live in this land with your power, or will you wait to be slaughtered like livestock?”

Reb stretched out his arm, pointing towards the barn in one corner of the village, inciting the villagers.

Realizing that the mood was turning strangely, the Chief brought Reb inside. In a room with fur laid down instead of a carpet, he seated him at the head and spoke.

“I do not doubt your words, but…”

“Call me General.”

“…It’s not that I don’t trust the General, but I cannot decide hastily. How can we, the natives, bring down the kingdom? I’ve heard that even gathering all the people from my tribe would be impossible. The kingdom has tens of thousands of warriors.”

“I apologize if I exaggerated my statements.”

Reb feigned a bow.

“To say that I’ll bring down the kingdom is indeed incorrect. I intend to bring down the House of Lognum.”

“Lognum? Are you referring to the Lognum Mountains?”

“Partly correct, partly wrong. The ones who rule this kingdom have taken the name ‘Lognum’ for themselves. I will topple those arrogant rulers.”

Reb cleared his throat and continued.

“We have the support of two dukes. You may not understand what a duke is, so let me explain… They’re like great warriors. They encompass the warriors of the kingdom.”

“Oh… Is that so?”

The Chief roughly understood Reb’s words. In that sense, it made sense to consider it a power struggle between the Chief and the great warrior.

A struggle between the Chief who leads the villagers and the great warrior who leads the warriors.

It was hard to say definitively which side had the advantage.

It depended on the person.

If the Chief was the better leader, he would remain in his position; if the great warrior was more proactive, he would usurp the Chief’s position.

Given the same conditions, the Chief, who was deeply involved in the lives of the villagers, would naturally have the advantage, but when situations turned extreme (such incidents sometimes happen even in peaceful villages), one could find a great warrior gaining the Chief’s status by virtue of strength.

No matter how many people supported the Chief, it became a very troublesome matter if the strong warriors began to run amok.

“Well, there is a glimmer of hope, then.”

“Indeed.”

Reb hid a bit of the truth.

Unlike a small tribe’s Chief, there was no need to reveal just how strong the ‘King’ was. He allowed the Chief to misunderstand.

He had already lied plenty, but…

No, it was not necessarily a lie, was it?

Leo would ‘probably’ convince Duke Harvey Gaidan and Duke Evny Drazin, and although I currently had no tribes following me, many were sure to join starting with the Dwinor Tribe.

It was a matter of order.

If there’s faith, they gather; without faith, they don’t. So it couldn’t exactly be concluded as a lie. ─ This is what Reb thought.

After much deliberation, the Chief reached a conclusion.

He proclaimed that he would send warriors to the Gaidan Territory. Under the pretext of hosting a precious guest, they caught a calf which made for a boisterous festival but was rather gruesome to watch.

The calf was beaten.

It was pelted with stones while young men wielding stone hammers chased it down and struck it to death.

It was for fortune-telling.

The organs of the stressed calf twisted and ruptured, tangled in knots. They would offer it to the god ‘Ailethia,’ whom they still believed in, even though they had converted.

Naturally, the outcome was favorable. The Chief had tipped off the priest, and the villagers cheered. Thanks to this, as many as seventy-five warriors in this village stepped forward to participate.

“Then I leave it to you. Please convince the surrounding villages as well.”

“Rest assured, General. Many from the other twelve villages will volunteer.”

Reb nodded and left the village, feeling satisfied. He headed a bit further south, toward the sea spread beyond the Lognum Mountains.

The Yellow Tribe. He anticipated how many warriors they would provide as they primarily engaged in fishing.

*

Meanwhile, in Nevis. A banquet was being held at the Gaidan Marquis’ mansion.

Marquis Harvey eventually accepted Leo’s proposal. However, it was unreasonable to incite a rebellion by himself, so he returned to the capital to involve other nobles.

Leo, Lena, and the Marquis’ wife accompanied him, while Hirie Gaidan remained in the territory as she was gradually recovering but still not fully well.

“Lena, you don’t have to do anything. Just be there while I persuade them.”

Leo firmly instructed his sister.

In truth, he didn’t particularly want Lena at the banquet, but she stubbornly said,

“I want to help you, big brother!”

For some reason, she insisted on coming along. Dressed up, she stepped into the banquet hall.

Many nobles were gathered in the banquet hall. The purpose of the event was to celebrate the recovery of the Marquis’ wife, who had been bedridden for a long time, so many high-ranking nobles came along with their wives, just as prominent as the Gaidan family.

“Oh my, it’s been a long time. Count, Countess. I apologize for not attending your son’s wedding.”

“Oh, no. It’s good to see you well. You had sent a gift as well, didn’t you? You really didn’t have to…”

“Haha. I’m a bit late sending it, aren’t I? You seem to have made a good match. I’ve heard that ‘Rothschild’s’ daughter grew up beautifully… I used to enjoy the jam you sent, it was really delicious. If you monopolize after becoming family, it would be quite the disaster.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll be sure to send you some. Ah, should I go this way?”

“Yes. The Count is over there. My husband has been wanting to meet you. Would ‘Berka Stellar’ be alright to drink?”

Count Safia smiled pleasantly. She climbed to the second floor of the banquet hall while accepting her favorite drink.

In that place, clearly visible from the first floor, were Marquis Harvey Gaidan, Lena, Leo, and the aging ‘Lord Bokali.’

“Well then, until next time, Marquis. It’s an honor to finally meet you. Princess, Prince.”

Noticing Count Safia’s approach, Lord Bokali rose with a cold demeanor. Perhaps because the conversation hadn’t gone well, he simply greeted Count Safia lightly and slipped past.

Count Safia shrugged toward Marquis Gaidan, then took her seat.

“It’s been a long time, Marquis. It’s the first time since around last year that we’ve met. But… who are the people beside you?”

Marquis Gaidan introduced Lena and Leo. He had no specific agenda, just trying to make their faces known. Today would end here, and he planned to apply persuasion later.

But even this small act conveyed a message.

Count Safia was surprised to learn that Leo de Yeriel and Lena de Yeriel were alive. Meanwhile, she sharpened her senses, trying to decode Marquis Gaidan’s intentions as he introduced the prince and princess.

“Excuse me for a moment.”

Lena gracefully bowed, covering her cleavage.

While Marquis Gaidan, Leo, and Count Safia were engrossed in their little game, Lena followed after Lord Bokali, who had just left.

‘I must not lose this person.’

Lena found it hard to understand the actions of her brother and Marquis Gaidan.

Didn’t they say they were planning a rebellion? Yet, Marquis Gaidan had been neatly sending away most of the nobles they had just met.

It was as if it had already been decided who could be on their side and who couldn’t, as they had introduced Lena and Leo to only a few nobles.

Could they really give up so easily?

According to what Lena had studied, each noble was a precious and powerful entity. Varying greatly, but each noble family could mobilize at least hundreds of soldiers and dozens of knights.

She had to capture at least one… Although somewhat doubtful, Lena decided to stay put, following her brother’s words. However,

‘Lord Bokali is someone we must win over.’

He was the father-in-law of Count Ogerton.

He had a deep connection with the wizard count ‘Soarel Demetri Ogerton,’ and Lena couldn’t understand why her brother and Marquis Gaidan had sent him away nonchalantly, knowing this fact.

Lena called out to the lord. The old man turned back with a puzzled expression.

“Yes, Princess. Do you need something from me?”

“If it’s not too much trouble, could you escort me?”

Lord Bokali paused for a moment.

He stared at the princess, who smiled innocently, and then asked.

“If it’s your request, I cannot refuse. But there are many young and handsome folks who could serve better than an old man like me, you know?”

“My brother said I shouldn’t hold hands with those kinds of people.”

“Hahaha… That makes sense.”

Lord Bokali came down the stairs alongside Lena. As an old man, his pace was very slow, requiring Lena to wait a bit.

Even while holding onto Lord Bokali, Lena made no specific proposals. She knew that just walking together was sufficient.

Whenever someone was taken aback by Lena’s beauty and approached, she lightly waved Lord Bokali’s hand. The old lord graciously turned away anyone who came near them, and they exchanged trivial conversations while munching on some snacks.

Of course, there was no mention of his son-in-law, Count Ogerton. It was merely the behavior of a daughter married off, something that Lord Bokali was well aware of.

Furthermore, he had a general idea of what Marquis Gaidan was thinking by bringing along royals from foreign nations…

‘A storm is brewing.’

It would be right to let go of this hand at any moment now. Using his frail legs as an excuse, he intended to break free, but it was hard to part from this cute princess, innocently munching on sweet treats.

For now, it was still okay.

He was simply escorting the princess; he had not yet acknowledged which side he would stand on…

Just then.

“Hahaha! So many have gathered! How wonderful to see you all. Ah, Marquis Gaidan! It’s been a long time. I used to see you often back in the palace as a child.”

Lord Bokali’s complexion turned pale.

Two young men burst through the mansion’s front door. They were uninvited guests he absolutely did not want to meet right now.

With dark hair as dark as the night sky. Their white, neatly arranged teeth gleamed, and they approached Lord Bokali directly—two handsome young men.

Prince Aton de Lognum and

Prince Alzeor de Lognum.

Startled, like a reflex, Lord Bokali tried to release the princess’s hand, but it was impossible. The small hand held tightly onto his frail one, for she was looking at the princes with a proud posture.

Lord Bokali sighed.