Chapter 140

(140)

[To my friend Duke Valencius,

I am overwhelmed with joy at the humane proposal you have sent me on this bright spring day.

This morning, the flowers that Lady Lysena has been nurturing finally bloomed.

Your proposal feels akin to the sunlight which embodies the gaze of the God of Radiance.

Please do not worry about the treatment of the displaced people.

I shall do my best to ensure that they integrate stably into the northern region.

As you are well aware, the people here are always on the city wall, and the fertile lands lack workers who would otherwise cultivate them.

(Yours)…]

A reply filled with praise and gratitude was sent to Seberik.

“Doesn’t this work, Lady Trentia? Isn’t everything going well?”

Lady Trentia read the letter several times and then looked back and forth between it and me, bewildered.

“Lord Valenccius… Does Lord Seberik know that you’re proceeding this way?”

I shook my head firmly.

“Once you know how sausages are made, you may lose your appetite. Why would I want my friend to feel disappointment?”

Currently, there were three major issues:

1. The chimeras exist.

2. There are displaced people.

3. The chimeras are eating the displaced people.

To resolve all three issues at once, I devised a plan.

It involved sending all the displaced people, who were encamped in makeshift camps outside the city walls, en masse to the north.

Issues 2 and 3 would immediately be resolved with this approach.

The northern region welcomed the displaced people and had sufficient land for them to settle. Moreover, if they left the encampment, they clearly wouldn’t be at risk of being eaten by chimeras.

Afterward, the chimeras, deprived of a food source, would starve to death naturally, tackling issue number 1.

In essence, it was a masterstroke that resolved all the problems perfectly.

“If Lord Seberik learns how they were driven here, he will doubt your humanity, Lord Valen.”

“I told him from our first meeting that I aimed to economically subjugate the northern region. We didn’t become friends out of noble mutual virtue.”

There was just one missing piece: persuading the displaced people.

People from the central region still harbored an ingrained prejudice about seeing the northern territories as a place of exile. They feared the north, with its mysteries, giants, monsters, and strange creatures.

It would be unrealistic to expect those who had just survived a harsh winter to respond positively to being sent north.

Therefore, I had to resort to some coercive measures.

“Bow your heads! Bow your heads!”

“The makeshift camp area is about to be set on fire!”

“Lift your loads properly. We won’t provide carts. You and your family must endure this journey to the next province. Do you understand?”

I sought out Sir Barbatos and borrowed the constables for this task.

The constables had already exhausted themselves trying to manage the slums with little success. When I told them a massive slum had formed outside the capital and might be entrusted to their management, they quickly agreed to what became Operation ‘Northward Relocation.’

“We’ll all die if we’re in charge of managing this area.”

“We finally thought we had some respite, and now, repeating that hell is unacceptable.”

“Drugs, protests, epidemics, corruption, begging, petty thievery… No way!”

“Let’s just palm it off on the Great Lord of the North!”

“They’ll even give them land over there! It’s a good deal for them too.”

“Send them up north to be farmers!”

Phase 1: Pretend to distribute resources to lure all the displaced people into one location while setting fires around their camps to remove any possibility of return.

Phase 2: Inform the now-confused group that they’re being relocated to the northern region, distribute provisions, assign some guides, and send them north.

Any resistance would result in a swift demonstration of the baton.

A few stubborn souls who refused to leave the makeshift camp and others who outright said they would not go north were, unfortunately, killed.

The constables conducted thorough infectious disease and corruption tests to prevent rumors of poisoning in the north. In the process, the accompanying priests treated hundreds of people afflicted by early-stage corruption and various diseases.

“The Duke Valencius has been roaming outside the city walls committing massacres!”

“After being embarrassed in his attempted assassination of Konel in the old slums, he’s been quieter lately.”

“He’s banishing all the displaced people to that freezing north.”

“Relocating them right after the winter has ended! What a cruel man!”

“An entire family was burned alive in the tents, and those who refused to go north were beaten to death.”

“Rumors say he even experimented with corruption.”

And I bore the weight of every rumor and bad reputation spawned during the entire process.

The hardworking constables shouldn’t be the ones to take the blame.

* * *

I watched with contentment as people made their way further and further north.

Surely, this was a very tidy and clean solution.

“Now they’ll head up north, become farmers with their own land. How marvelous!”

Lady Trentia sighed softly.

“I expected Lord Valencius to visit the Ivory Tower’s autonomous zone, lecture the magicians, and demand they take responsibility for recovering the chimeras.”

“Would you have done so, Lady Trentia?”

Confusion flickered in her otherwise stoic face as she asked me.

“Isn’t addressing the root cause of the problem important?”

I shrugged and countered,

“If a single move can solve multiple issues, isn’t that better? The marginalization of the displaced people, the northern region’s manpower shortage, the eventual demise of chimeras—it all resolves everything.”

“That’s…!”

“I know what you’re about to say.”

“You do?”

“The person who caused problems must take responsibility. Because they don’t take responsibility, they must be made to. You can’t compromise principles just because it’s hard to challenge someone powerful or because managing the aftermath is tedious. Ultimately, you too, Your Excellency, compromised again this time.”

The eyes of Lady Trentia widened as she listened.

“Lord Valen, how can you, who know all this, still go about being so hesitant toward the Ivory Tower? If you continue to be passive, they might get even more brazen in the long run.”

Indeed, words fitting of a knight.

Commanders, hierarchy, ranks, honor, authority.

To uphold those, firm principles are necessary, and both the upper and lower levels must follow them.

But who creates those principles?

“Lady Trentia, what are the three most important principles of chivalry?”

A swift response came:

“Loyalty to one’s liege, faithfulness to the church, and protection of the weak.”

“Why do you think these became the principles?”

She did not answer immediately.

I chuckled coolly.

“Because betrayals were rampant, loyalty became a virtue, and because the teachings of the Church were ignored, faithfulness became important.”

Looking bewildered, Lady Trentia responded,

“My Lord… Nonetheless, these principles are what give chivalry its worth. By establishing these virtues and norms, we instill the understanding that deviations are wrong. Once ruthless plunderers, knights have now become pillars of the empire.”

I nodded in agreement.

“You’re right. Right you are. When did I say the code of chivalry was wrong?”

” moments ago!”

“What purpose do those virtues and norms serve? Aren’t they for the stability of the empire?”

“!”

“Adherence to principles brought stability to the empire. If I had rushed directly to the Ivory Tower to confront them, would there have been stability? You, however, could have done it. That’s how a knight should act.”

“But you, didn’t you promise?”

As I watched the confused expression on Lady Trentia’s face, I clenched my teeth.

We had had similar conversations before.

Knights conquer with swords, administrative officers govern with pens, and royalty must wield both sword and pen when necessary.

It was their destiny.

Just as a knight cannot compromise their principles, royalty must compromise.

At least, that’s what I believed.

If people like us, who bear so much responsibility, only act on idealism, how do you think the world functions?

Principles can change overnight, but the world takes at least a decade.

How many rulers have realized their own mistakes only after their territories were ravaged by rebellions or invasions and ended in despair?

To navigate such complexities, we need the cunning of a fox to evade traps and the bravery of a lion to chase away wolves.

* * *

I took a deep breath, carefully choosing my words.

“I’ve made a mistake. There’s no need to bring up the code of chivalry or discuss compromise and principles if we keep seeing different things.”

We each perceive the world from different positions.

In Lady Trentia’s world, following orders to fight with all one’s might is justice.

She is the one who could cut through human flesh as though it were potato sprouts and slaughtered a thousand slum thugs.

Instead of questioning her, I should trust her.

I must spare her the troubles that plague her mind.

This is the most crucial thing a liege must offer to a knight.

“This summer, His Majesty will demand an oath of loyalty from the Great Lords.”

“!”

“By then, I must stabilize the capital as much as possible. By any means necessary.”

“Ah.”

“Lady Trentia, I am not someone who can simply live according to my own conscience. I must fill His Majesty’s treasury, not mine.”

“You’ve made enough money stuffing your own pockets, too!”

Though her reply was light-hearted, her expression stiffened before she finally nodded.

She, too, comes from a knightly family, knowing well that a knight reaches the highest virtue by fighting to the death for their liege and bowing their heads for the people.

“That’s my path to virtue.”

“Similar to Lord Seberik bowing his head to you?”

I couldn’t quite admit that I’m as noble as Seberik, so I just smiled slightly and nodded.

I served the highest ruler of the empire for 41 years, including the history I remembered from my previous reincarnation.

And originally, that was a position I could have ascended to.

There were even several who attempted to establish me as emperor.

I wanted to help Jeilliris, without placing any burdens on her.

A dilemma arose here.

If I wanted to help Jeilliris, I needed to be competent. However, if I were too competent, many would try to make me emperor.

I wanted to assist Jeilliris, not to vie for the supreme seat and lose my head.

So, even after clearing my self-imposed retirement, I acted intentionally unrefined.

I poured wine on impolite foreign envoys, tortured a vassal who hesitated whether to side with the rebellion or protect Princess Jeilliris.

If principles and adherence to them represent nobility, then my principle is Jeilliris.

And just recently, she thanked me.

That meant I was living according to my first principle.

My conscience still screams in torment, but since I’m alive and feeling this torment every day, it’s also another way of saying it’s fine as it is.

That’s why I like to drink.

For a moment, silence enveloped our conversation.

A cold spring breeze blew.

Neither Lady Trentia nor I possessed the long hair to dramatically sway in this wind.

After looking at me silently with sad eyes for a while, Lady Trentia struck her breastplate twice with her gauntleted hand, changing her expression.

Once again, she transformed into a resolute, loyal, and formidable knight.

Indeed.

A liege must always demand and expect sacrifices from the knight.

Not what she expects of me, but what I demand of her.

For that is the first principle of chivalry: loyalty to the will of the liege.

I felt a pang of guilt for leaving her emotions hanging.

Though I didn’t express it verbally.

“…Let’s see some knightly behavior, then.”

“Excuse me?”

“His Majesty wishes to obtain something from the Ivory Tower’s autonomous special zone. Go there, create a ruckus, knock down the resisting magicians, and demand that they pay the price.”

Lady Trentia briefly bowed her head, suppressing a laugh.

Then she looked up with a much brighter smile, replying confidently,

“Look at that. You can indeed act very much like a true knight.”

* * *

“…Even if I die, I don’t want to see that face.”

I muttered a few times as I halted in front of a back alley in the autonomous special zone of the Ivory Tower.

This was a secret hideout where merchants sold various byproducts from the Ivory Tower’s incineration grounds.