Chapter 71

As expected, the noble’s carriage is quite something. While other carriages and merchants are being thoroughly inspected at the checkpoint, with their luggage checked and their purpose of visit and identity scrutinized, this one just breezes through. The soldiers at the guard post took one look at Ricardo’s face and immediately…

“PASS!!! PASS!!! MOVE ASIDE, YOU CRAZY BASTARDS!!!! IF YOU DON’T WANT TO DIE, GET OUT OF THE WAY!!!”

…they shouted. It felt like a high-ranking officer was visiting the military base. Will those soldiers even be able to sleep tonight? Passing through the checkpoint like this, I could somewhat understand why people obsess so grotesquely over power. Ah, so this is why Putin… Wait, if I mention that, I might get a radioactive tea from another dimension, so I’ll stop. Whether you’re a mage or not, drinking that would send you straight to meet Lenin.

“The place where you’ll be staying, Werner’s house, is being cleaned right now. So, just stay at my place for today.”

“The place I lived in was just a one-room apartment. What’s there to clean?”

Werner said that after running away from home, he found a shabby one-room apartment and lived there. It’s not like four people could stay there, and there’s no need for cleaning or anything, right?

“Not that one-room apartment, but a proper mansion.”

“I had a damn mansion?”

Is this bastard Werner pretending to live in a one-room apartment while actually owning a mansion, just to cosplay as a commoner? His goal must be tax evasion. Living in a shabby house while preparing another property under a different name, and living in a one-room apartment to evade taxes and gain benefits. Considering all the crap he’s pulled, it’s definitely possible. If not, is he planning to enter politics? Cosplaying as a commoner to build a friendly image, visiting markets, eating market food he doesn’t even like, and preparing for election campaigns?

Wait, this is a monarchy. But he’s preparing for election campaigns, building a commoner image, and focusing on image-making…?

There’s only one conclusion. This damn bastard Werner must have been preparing for a rebellion. Through revolution, he aims to establish democracy and, using the commoner image he’s maintained, stand tall as the leader of a new magical democratic nation. That’s why he hated the Crown Prince and Princess. It’s all part of a grand plan to assassinate the Emperor, no, the Tsar… Werner is clearly a born revolutionary with the qualities of a revolution.

But such civil wars always bring nothing but chaos and suffering to the people. Since I’ve taken over your body, your nonsense ends here, Werner Altan.

“No, I just bought it under your name.”

“What? You bought what under my name?”

“Did you plan to have four people live in your one-room apartment?”

“No, but a mansion in the capital isn’t exactly cheap…”

Throughout history, houses in the capital have always been ridiculously expensive. And you bought a mansion in the capital? Just because your younger sibling needed a place to live?

“Hmph, do you think this older brother can’t even buy a mansion for his youngest sibling?”

Ah, damn God of Chivalry. Ricardo, were you a divine being sent by you? Buying a house for your sibling, such a shining personality truly befits the embodiment of chivalry.

“So, don’t disappoint me, and build up your achievements as an Imperial Sorcerer.”

So, you had an ulterior motive after all. Shining my ass, you can’t trust these tin-can bastards. Offering a house and then demanding repayment, it reminds me of that raccoon bastard from that loan repayment game. Maybe that raccoon is from the Carven family too? The Carven family isn’t a knight family but a loan shark family. No wonder people in the Venice merchant world hated Shylock.

“Damn Imperial Sorcerer, you bastard…”

“But don’t worry too much. I’ll do my best to support you.”

Yeah, damn, Shylock is pitiful. Hated just for being Jewish, even though he was just doing legitimate lending with proper permits. If I were in the Venice court, I’d give those bastards who discriminated against Shylock a Confucian punch. Neo-Nazis who discriminate against Jews, I, who carry the blood of the Allied forces, must deliver the hammer of justice.

“Ah, I can see my mansion now. Let’s stay there today.”

The mansion that came into view had an antique, historical feel to it. That damn professional term, was it antique? Antique Gear Golem? Anyway, it had that kind of vibe. You know those mansions that look expensive at first glance and you’re sure the Wi-Fi won’t work there?

The mansion’s door opened, and as we got off the carriage, a fragrant floral scent wafted over.

“Bro, did you grow flowers? You?”

Looking through Werner’s memories, Ricardo was far from being someone who would grow something as emotional as flowers. He’d rather raise a Doberman for guard duty. And it seems I wasn’t the only one who thought that.

“…Ricardo, are you sure this is your mansion? It’s not just a fake with a fancy exterior, is it?”

Ricardo frowned at our reaction and answered.

“How do you all see me that you treat me like a trap just because there’s a floral scent at my house?”

“A man obsessed with chivalry. Someone who wouldn’t keep anything impractical in his house.”

“Damn… No, if he had hunting dogs, he’d have hunting dogs. He’d never grow flowers, that druid-hater.”

“My evaluation is harsher than I thought.”

Well, it’s not unreasonable to think that way about someone who, before going on adventures, had never even indulged in snacks. He’s diligent and takes care of those around him, but he’s also quite rigid.

“Honestly, I never thought of growing flowers, but my wife used to work at a flower shop, so she likes growing flowers. So, the entire backyard has turned into a flower garden.”

“Wasn’t that a training ground? And it’s huge. Is your wife managing it all by herself?”

“The training ground has been moved elsewhere. And some of my soldiers volunteer to help.”

“Is that really voluntary?”

“Of course. I asked if anyone wanted to volunteer.”

This damn abusive boss. When a boss asks if you want to go hiking on the weekend, and you say yes, that’s not volunteering. That’s coercion.

“Bro, that looks more like poor victims crushed by authority.”

“I never forced anyone. I wouldn’t disadvantage those who didn’t volunteer. They all came because they love flowers, right?”

You might think that, but your subordinates probably don’t. Of course, Ricardo isn’t the kind of trash to disadvantage someone for such a reason, but as a subordinate, you can’t just let it slide.

“Alright, then I’ll show you.”

“Show me what?”

Ricardo called over a soldier carrying a bucket in the distance.

“Hey, Thomas, come here.”

The soldier named Thomas… no, the train… no, the soldier came running over.

“Thomas, you’re volunteering to help with the garden today, but you’re not doing this because you feel pressured by me, are you?”

Thomas’s face turned as pale as a train’s.

“N-no, of course not! I do it because I love gardening, Captain!!!”

Thomas, crushed by authority, I sympathize with you. But that man truly has no ill intent. He just can’t understand your struggles and position because of his upbringing.

“Hahaha, I thought so.”

But if you’re that oblivious, it’s borderline criminal. Is that bastard really a spy for the Black Round Table? Maybe he’s spreading authoritarian culture to bring down the empire from within.

Didn’t that revenge-seeking teacher in a hero movie say? An empire attacked from the outside can still rise again, but an empire crumbling from within can never recover.

“Alright, Thomas, you can go now. Oh, and I heard your child is due soon? Buy your wife some good food.”

Ricardo took out a pouch full of coins from his pocket and handed it to Thomas.

“No, Captain, this is too much…”

“Refusing is an act of disobedience punishable by execution.”

“I’ll take it. Ignoring someone’s kindness makes you worse than a dog.”

Thomas ran off with the pouch of coins.

But something felt off.

“Bro, are you close with that knight? You even know his name.”

“This is the first time I’ve had a private conversation with him.”

“Then how do you know his name? You even knew his child is due soon.”

There are hundreds, if not thousands, of knights under Ricardo’s command. How can he remember all their names?

“A leader who can’t remember his subordinates’ names is an idiot. And knowing such personal details is basic for a leader.”

He’s really clueless, but at the same time, he’s genuinely a good knight.

Could someone like this really be a spy for the Black Round Table?