Chapter 193

(193)

“Finally.”

Ironblood Party leader Marcus smiled contentedly as he lifted his body from the chair’s back.

He patted the shoulder of the kneeling messenger, ordered the knights to equip themselves, and sent a messenger to his long-time friend ‘Yeolsahamhu’.

“Yes. You too could not postpone this any longer. The direct line high nobles have already gathered, and Seberik has been waiting for two weeks. Above all, we all know that that mad magician isn’t something to underestimate, right?”

Marcus looked out through the glass window of the bridge, observing the dark clouds inside the capital.

Flashes of lightning sporadically dropped from the storm clouds.

The genius magician was demonstrating his talents without restraint.

Rather than an attack directed at the infiltrator boy, it seemed more like a warning to the great lords gathered inside and outside the capital.

A warning to act as if they hadn’t seen it.

Controlling the storm was nearly a perfected skill for a magician who dealt with electricity.

The battle mages following Marcus were unable to take their eyes off the clouds.

“Is the lightning magic tool ready?”

“Yes, Your Excellency.”

“Good. Marcus is having a hard time with that, so we don’t have to be foolishly caught in it.”

Rather than being overwhelmed in front of a genius, Marcus was the type to look for ways to counterattack.

He wore a long, wire-like grounding tool densely inscribed with incantation circuits.

One side jutted out beside his collar, standing over his ear, while the other side went down his back and slipped out beside his shoe.

The lightning descending from above could be diverted underfoot, and the lightning from the ground could be discharged into the air.

Marcus smiled proudly as he saw his subordinates finish their preparations to reenter the city.

Clad in bronze armor of his design and a magic tool cloak, hulking mechanical knights, battle mages wearing exoskeleton magic armor, skilled in both swordsmanship and magic, and the five hundred elite soldiers armed with the magical cannon he had clumsily recreated….

This was the most dangerous army assembled by the most dangerous great lord in the West.

The uneven smile on Marcus’ pleasant face twisted.

“Send a message. Since we’ve come this far and gathered like this, everyone should leave with at least one piece of meat to chew on.”

For a moment, Marcus recalled the Emperor’s visage.

He remembered the yellow eyes and languid smile.

The Emperor he had seen two years ago had been a monster, and the one he had seen a few days ago was merely pretending to be human.

“You are losing because of this. If it were you from two years ago, you would have either killed me or reached out to me to gain my airship and magic cannon. Then I would have knelt before you and marched west alongside you.”

The Emperor, who used to execute those he disliked, and the ever-diligent Jeilliris, were no longer present.

Those who realized they had much and began compromises to protect it could never become monsters.

And in a world of nobles, those who could not become monsters were bound to be devoured by other monsters.

“It can’t be helped. I will go west alone.”

Marcus marched again towards the castle gate, leading over six hundred elites.

The security guards blocked him, demanding he disarm.

“Double the troops from last time….”

“Shut up.”

The hulking mechanical knights swung their arms and sent the guards flying, while the messengers from Instrumentum galloped down the capital’s streets.

* * *

Duke Seberik of the North was staying at a luxurious hotel not even five minutes from the Imperial Palace.

Nearly two weeks had passed since he arrived in the capital, but not many of its citizens knew of his presence.

As a duke, he was first in line for an audience, yet he had not yet met Jeilliris.

As a Sword Master, he did not command a large escort, and he had already secured significant food aid earlier this year.

Although there was the task of obtaining a permanent port, that could wait until after the oath of loyalty was taken.

There was no rush; he waited calmly, and under those circumstances, Valencius secretly sent a page with a message.

[Dear Seberik. The situation in the capital is not good. A mad magician is causing explosions here and there. It’s not safe for a great noble like you to roam the streets. I understand the situation in the North is not urgent. If there are no pressing matters, our reunion will likely be postponed. With my sincerest apologies, Valencius.]

Both Seberik and Lysena were perceptive individuals.

“Your Highness.”

“I know. It must be the infiltrator.”

“…Would it not be better to remain on the ship? I do not hold Duke Valencius in high regard, but… he is undoubtedly capable. If he has been unable to catch the infiltrator for two weeks, there is a risk that Your Highness could be caught up in an accident.”

Seberik shook his head after a moment’s contemplation.

He looked out at the streets with his calm gray eyes.

“That’s not possible. If I show signs of leaving… that would be a breach of contract.”

“Your Highness.”

“Weren’t we to receive grains at the beginning of this year? This time, I’ve come to get that permanent port. Let’s trust him. Lysena, you know he’s not someone who would start a losing battle, right?”

Lysena nodded, making a sound of agreement.

She revealed the letter brought by the messenger.

“Please read it.”

“It’s a letter sent by Marcus from the West.”

[……In cooperation with the capture of the mad magician of the Imperial family……]

Seberik quickly grasped the letter’s essence.

“Marcus has laid a trap.”

“Yes, Your Highness. If we help with capturing the mad magician, it is obvious he will gather the great lords and frame it as if the mad magician was truly an infiltrator, and the Imperial family had hidden this fact from us.”

Lysena shared the same thoughts.

She looked up at Seberik, her serious expression contrasting with her frustrated demeanor.

“Your Highness, please do not go out.”

“Lysena.”

“You may be strong like a giant, but the great lords are fierce and dangerous like mountain wolves. The aspirations of the North will soon be fulfilled in a few years, and in such a situation, Your Highness does not need to be involved in the chaos of the central government.”

Seberik briefly recalled the image of Valencius.

The cheerful, carefree hair hiding the haggard gaze and pale cheeks.

“I understand.”

That calm demeanor he maintained even with the Northern knights in front of him.

“Lysena. I’m sorry.”

“Your Highness.”

“He believed in me, so I must have faith in him as well.”

Lysena looked at Seberik.

A man with deep blue waves of hair and profound gray eyes, exuding an air of dignity.

“I knew you would say that. Let us go. I have summoned the carriage.”

While she always found his extreme nobility maddening, she could not help but love him for it.

The Duke of the North and his aide left the hotel.

* * *

Cariosa Summerlin Asenorta, the first great lord of the East who would soon become a duchess, also received Marcus’s message.

She divided her 4,000-strong army into thirds and sent them across the capital, while she remained in a wide square with her 2,000 troops stationed.

The messenger was somewhat taken aback by the scene in the square.

Knights were bringing water-filled barrels to cool off in.

It was August, when temperatures peaked; the sea men of the East craved waves, and the knights were sending their trainees to fetch cool water to soak in.

Seeing knights, whether male or female, splashing joyfully in the water in nothing but shirts caused the messenger to click his tongue and then bite it.

Cariosa herself was also soaking her massive frame in a gigantic portable bathtub filled with cold water, seasoned like seawater with added salt.

Wearing a short-sleeved blouse that revealed her arms, the water touching her gleaming, scale-like skin made it appear even slicker and tougher.

Carefully, the messenger read the letter aloud, and Cariosa smirked, instructing a knight to dunk both the letter and messenger into the barrel beside her.

“Ugh!”

“I have a saying I really like.”

“Cough!”

“They say water knows the answers.”

“Ugh… Ah!”

“If you drink a lot, it improves your skin, helps you lose weight, gets bloodstains out of clothes, and even the loudest guy will quiet down once you dunk him in water.”

Cariosa wiped the light smile off her face, her eyes flashing like slit pupils.

“So tell me again properly. What does your master want?”

Facing her fierce demeanor, the messenger spilled all the facts.

“Actually….”

He had braced himself for this much, confident that this approach would resonate better with a noble of Cariosa’s temperament.

“To frame Valencius as being in league with the infiltrator?”

“I hear you desire the throne….”

Cariosa grinned, revealing shark-like teeth.

“Can you describe that in more detail?”

* * *

Saint Matheos and Bishop Argos gazed down from the grand hall of the cathedral, concluding their final conversation.

Argos looked at the holy knights waiting in the hall and spoke courteously.

“We can use Duke Valencius as a scapegoat or save him to pass legislation. Either way, it will benefit us.”

“……Prepare a means to monitor Marcus. If this legislation passes, the first place to send the holy knights will be his territory.”

“Understood.”

“Have you conveyed the legislation to the members?”

“About half of the court nobles with multiple votes have been persuaded, and nearly all of the common members have fallen in line. With Senator Konel acting as a ringleader, public support should be strong.”

Matheos narrowed his eyes at the mention of the name.

He was one of the few who knew Konel was backed by Valencius.

“Is there something behind this?”

“……Understood. I shall take my leave for now.”

“Yes. Saint.”

The saint left the cathedral with the holy knights.

Argos made the sign of the cross and prayed while watching the saint’s broad back.

May the light shine upon the saint’s path.

May the divine will be embedded in his choices.

May his goodwill lead to a righteous outcome.

* * *

Marcus sent messengers to almost all direct line nobles who ascended to the capital.

There was effectively one from the North, nearly one from the East, but there were several dozen direct line nobles from the South, West, and Southwest.

Even if they brought only 150 guards each, it would amount to nearly 10,000 troops.

Amid the ominous atmosphere lingering over the capital under the dark clouds, two young female great lords stood at a crossroads of choice.

“I will use Duke Valencius to pressure Jeilliris…? Those twins are not the type to care about public opinion, are they?”

“If provoking my vengeful spirit is the goal, then consider it successful.”

The gray-haired lady with her hair neatly tied back and cold sky-blue eyes, exuding an unyielding hawkish demeanor, was the great noble Signain.

Wearing a black crown, her long black hair flowing down, her wise yet strange brown eyes betraying a mysterious demeanor was the great noble Grace.

Both young lords pondered and deliberated from their positions.

Both had memories of losing a father who was like a sky to Valencius and a beloved grandfather.

Signain dominated her emotions, while Grace was governed by hers, yet both recognized that the probability of success in this proposal was high.

“If Jeilliris is an ordinary emperor.”

If he was an emperor who valued pride and justification, creating power from authority, he would have no choice but to fall.

It was the only move Marcus could play after failing in direct negotiations.

Even if he had not invested significant effort in negotiation intentionally for this move, it could be believed.

“If it succeeds, I’m free. But… what if it fails? Wouldn’t Jeilliris potentially kill us all? Having already purged his relatives, there’s no guarantee he wouldn’t do the same to us.”

“Sending a knight or two is doable. The problem arises when we fail. If the retaliation is greater than we anticipate, it could escalate severely. Perhaps thinking of them as mere distances….”

“Freedom…”

“What could be and what should be.”

As citizens closed their doors and windows, barricading themselves inside, under the dark clouds that obscured the God of Radiance’s gaze, tyrants, bandits, and famished great lords were poised to prey upon each other.