Chapter 59

The emperor’s funeral service is more grand, majestic, and splendid than any other event.

In the Elysium Great Cathedral used for the service, banners over 3 meters wide, made of silk and engraved with the crests of all nobles of count rank and above attending the funeral, hang prominently. The splendid carriages of nobles with ranks of viscount and above line up in a row.

Beside the carriages, guards, adorned in cloaks with their family crests stitched with gold and silver threads, march slowly in silver armor, while the observant citizens watching from the side say the scene resembles “the Milky Way marching.”

However, for me, who is merely a viscount, this event is truly maddeningly boring.

It is fine to show the nobility of the aristocrats, but there is no need for them all to line up in carriages to enter…

So I confided my suffering to Ela, who was quietly sitting in front of me.

“Ela, this is so boring… How much longer do we have to be like this?”

“If you wait just a little longer, you will be able to leave, my lord…”

“Is that so?”

And to check how much longer I had until I could enter, I looked out the window of the carriage, but…

Countless carriages were still queuing to approach the entrance of the Great Cathedral.

It would be better to be out there in the Balt, as the weather is cool, so I wouldn’t be hot even in armor…

However, just sitting here staring blankly out the window is useless.

I should think about how to suitably start an argument with Schwabin and outright declare war on that guy to sever our master-vassal relationship.

**

“The great and majestic His Imperial Majesty, Kroni von Eraline XIII, now ascends to the gods, O mighty Deus. Here now, the nobles serving Him gather with one heart to honor His virtues and His grandeur… May his sins be atoned, so he may enter paradise…”

Even as the ‘pre-written lines’ continued, a few of the high-ranking nobles began to be heard sobbing from their seats.

“Ugh, your majesty… Why are you leaving us so soon?”

“Your Majesty, it was your empire. We were with you…”

“Didn’t you say you would name my grandson when he was born? Then why are you leaving so soon…”

In contrast, among the viscounts and barons, rather than focusing on the ‘funeral,’ more constructive discussions for our ‘future’ unfolded among those sitting nearby.

“Say, Viscount Ranthal, who will your lordship, Marquis Brunch, be supporting?”

“That’s something nobody knows aside from the marquis himself. Baron Watson, who do you think your lord will support?”

“Our lord the duke intends to support the second prince. If Marquis Brunch has… thoughts, that is…”

Even though for us lower-ranking nobles, the emperor’s funeral felt tedious and meaningless…

At the very least, shouldn’t a noble who swore allegiance pretend to listen and not engage in idle chatter?

As I sat quietly waiting for the service to finish, a viscount sitting next to me nudged me in the side and spoke.

“Viscount Croilet. Who will your lordship, Count Nante, be supporting?”

Since I could disregard him anyway if I usurped Count Nante’s title…

I might as well respond honestly.

“I live in the countryside, so I don’t know nobles from other regions well. So, who is it…?”

“I am Clark von Arslan, lord of the Arslan Viscountcy. I serve Marquis Silver.”

“Is that so…? Seeing as you ask who I will support, it seems you already have a ‘candidate for the emperor’s heir.'”

Upon hearing that, the Arslan Viscount quietly leaned close to my ear and subtly, so nobody else could hear, said,

“We plan on supporting His Highness the First Prince. Though he is a bastard, he is still the First Prince, isn’t he? So please persuade Count Nante well…”

Since everyone seems to tacitly allow ‘such idle chatter,’ should I gather more conditions?

Through this, I might be able to learn how other nobles view Count Nante.

“Then please tell me the cost to persuade Count Nante.”

“Alright, if Marquis Silver wins the claim to the throne, he promised Count Nante the position of finance minister and 10,000 gold coins.”

No matter how I look at it, offering a finance minister position and 10,000 gold coins to the count of Nante—who boasts economic power on a ducal level—for participating in the succession claim is…

How lowly do they view him to make such an offer…

“There’s no way I could persuade him under those terms. Quite frankly, even some of the larger barons among the independents wouldn’t accept those conditions.”

“Ugh… fine. I will have the youngest daughter of Marquis Silver married to Count Nante.”

“Does that mean Marquis Silver…?”

“Though I may look like this, I am one of the most trusted aides to the marquis. Such a matter can be settled quickly…”

Do I truly believe that? If I trust him just because he says so, I’d be a fool…

Having nothing better to do and knowing I had to remain bound to this funeral for a few more hours, I decided to align with this man’s words, thinking it may let me gauge ‘Count Nante’s’ reputation before striking him down.

And soon after, the words of the cardinal finally announced the end of the funeral service.

“Thus, we conclude the funeral service for His Imperial Majesty.”

With this, the nobility, in order from the royal family, dukes, marquises, and counts quickly began to exit the cathedral.

**

After a considerable wait, it was finally the viscounts’ turn to exit the cathedral.

Ah, how refreshing it is to step outside after several hours… I feel like I can finally breathe.

Now, I can expose Schwabin’s foolish antics in the gathering and sever our master-vassal relationship…

Now where is Count Nante?

As I searched for Schwabin, it wasn’t long before I spotted him.

He appeared to be massive, likely over 100 kilos, strutting around in high-heeled shoes to make himself look taller…

While others wore no high heels for the funeral, why does he…

But then I heard Ela’s voice near Schwabin.

“Count Nante, have you seen Viscount Croilet anywhere?”

In response, Schwabin answered with an irritated tone.

“Croilet… He’ll be out soon. But why are you waiting here for the SIEL bastard?”

“I came out to guide you since the position of the viscount’s carriage has changed.”

“I see… But you know…”

Schwabin scrutinized Ela from head to toe and replied.

“Something’s coming out, and something’s going in. Yours is the most beautiful face I’ve seen… Hm…”

Ela, knowing what would come next, looked terrified and replied to Schwabin.

“Ella belongs to Viscount Croilet… So she can’t belong to you, my lord…”

“Despite being a noble, that guy is just a viscount, while I am a count. Besides, I am his lord… So, Ela, don’t worry. All I have to do is give that SIEL bastard a fair compensation, and it will be resolved.”

… Is this guy insane? Why would he sit there doing something like that in front of everyone?

Even if he feels entitled to act this way, going after a woman with a master is something only a monster would do!

So, despite needing to maintain my dignity while being watched, I began to run to protect Ela from Schwabin.

Just as Schwabin thought Ela was almost his, and was about to lay his hands on her chest, I intervened and blocked his hand.

Ela, seemingly reassured by my arrival, clung to my back and began to cry.

Schwabin, annoyed by ‘his plan’ being interrupted, glared at me with anger.

“SIEL von Croilet, Ela deserves better than you. So hand her over, and I’ll give you another woman. This is a command from your lord.”

Even though this isn’t a fantasy version of a great absolute monarchy or a noble class society, how rotten has he been for a year?

I did provide some support to two maids who entered as concubines, but…

Even so, even with just 0.01% common sense, it’s impossible to abduct a vassal maid who maintains a ‘contract’!

That insane bastard is actually trying to do it, this won’t do.

While I wanted to break the master-vassal relationship and engage him in ‘honorable combat,’ since things have turned out like this, striking him a few times out of pent-up frustration should suffice.

What Schwabin the Count attempted to do to Ela has already crossed the line of human decency.

However, no matter how much he is human trash, I cannot hit him while the ‘contract’ remains intact.

So, in order to gain the momentum to strike him, I knelt on one knee, bowed my head, and stated one last time.

“Count Nante, my lord. I am now withdrawing my oath of loyalty.”

Upon hearing those words, Schwabin seemed taken aback, staring at me with shock.

Not allowing him to remain still, I continued to pressure him and spoke loudly to appeal to the crowd.

“It is not due to your incompetent display of indulging in women and wine that I break my loyalty oath, but because you failed to help when I was declared war upon by Baron Santoburk and Baron Celt after I inherited my title. In fact, when I repelled those men with God’s blessing, you brazenly seized the 3,000 gold coins under the ridiculous pretense that I had signed a peace treaty!”

Schwabin, unable to refute what I said, began to speak without filtering his thoughts.

“Th-that’s!! It’s because you unilaterally made peace! And even without my protection, you fought them off fine. Moreover, 3,000 gold coins is a generous act!”

“Furthermore, when fighting Count Helzman, you claimed you would lead the charge with a lance charge, yet you fled from the front lines. Because of that, many of your loyal knights died. Aren’t you even ashamed of yourself?!!”

This sort of ‘romanticized withdrawal of an oath of loyalty’ resembled playing with fire, making it a pleasant entertainment for those not concerned with the Nante lineage.

Consequently, I began to receive applause and cheers from the crowd as if it was evident I was on the side of justice.

“It’s better to be a wandering knight than serve such trash!!”

“No, kill that trash!! There is only death for one who has broken the oath as a noble, as a count!!”

“SIEL von Croilet!!!”

With such acclaim backing me, I proudly met Schwabin’s gaze, no longer offering him my respect as I completed the master-vassal contract.

“So now, I, SIEL von Croilet, declare myself an equal noble to you, serving His Majesty the King of Elaline! And you, Schwabin von Nante!!”

Without giving him a chance to regain his composure, I removed the glove from my left hand and threw it at his face.

“How dare you lay hands on other people’s women right after a funeral service for His Imperial Majesty!! Is that something a person would do?! Therefore, I hereby challenge you to a duel!!! Let all present bear witness to this!!!”

In response to my challenge, everyone cheered.

And a moment later, I reached out and slapped Schwabin’s face.

Next, I slapped his left cheek, then forcefully kicked his abdomen with my right foot, knocking him down.

As Schwabin fell, he tried to retaliate against me, raising his hands to grab my shoulders, but I kicked his right side as hard as I could with my left shin.

Schwabin flew to the left, seeming to lose his senses.

I sat on his stomach and began punching his face mercilessly.

As a result, blood poured from Schwabin’s nose, and his face swelled up, making him look like a blowfish.

Following that, I wrapped my right arm around Ela’s trembling left shoulder, turned around, and said.

“Schwabin von Nante, it’s war! I will personally inform you when the time for war comes; for now, lie there and rot!”

Phew… Maybe beating that pig with my bare hands felt great today…

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