Chapter 79: Chapter 79

House Dunois territory.

The straight, soaring Dunois Castle in its antique style looked less like a fortress and more like one vast work of art.

"Ha, dull? While the whole continent is at war, a man who styles himself a Duke of a nation...."

"Do you think I don't know why this war has dragged on for more than fifty years, Hiram?"

Hiram started to answer Alienor's complaint, but her mechanically level voice left him no choice but to fall silent again.

"If you find it so tedious, why not lead your knights to the front? Had you gone to the central front, everything would have been far easier."

The guest in that art-piece of a castle was Hiram Belkuth, head of House Belkuth.

Alienor, who had been laughing softly at his scolding tone, looked into his face and spoke.

"It would only bring me more fatigue. Don't drag me into the mud-wrestling between your lot and House Lorenz, Hiram."

"I cannot understand. Why would the Empire's second-rank Duke not defend the Empire at such a crucial hour?"

When Hiram asked, Duchess Alienor brushed back her night-sky indigo hair and twisted her lips into a smile.

"I'm not protecting the Empire. The Empire must protect me."

As Alienor spoke, she smiled faintly, and Count Hiram, watching, gave a bitter smile of his own and took a sip of the tea before him.

The Empire protects House Dunois. Perhaps that was true.

Unlike the Belkuth family, which had built its fortune by colonizing and maintaining colonies, Dunois had no special products like the Loren region controlled by House Lorenz, nor had it ever taken part in the Empire's enterprises.

Yet, solely because it had stood with the Empire since the founding, the house held a ducal title and an enormous imperial stipend.

'For His Imperial Majesty to grant such favor... there must be something-something shared only between the Emperor and the people of Dunois.'

There is no goodwill without a price, and no malice without a reason.

Recalling that lifelong creed, Hiram watched the Duchess of Dunois with sharp eyes.

"So, what do you intend to do about my proposal?"

He opened his mouth only after the tea before him had gone cold.

"Well, from our standpoint the offer is certainly sweet."

With those words, Alienor shifted her gaze to the documents on her desk.

Photos and profiles of countless knights and nobles. They detailed political marriages between herself and persons from the Belkuth side, and the mutual benefits to both houses.

They also contained closely written clauses about future cooperation between the two families.

"Claude Lorenz has already thrown his trump card. You're aware of that, aren't you?"

Even while discussing an event that would convulse the entire Imperial aristocracy, Duchess Alienor remained perfectly composed.

'She knows everything and yet does nothing? Why?'

Belkuth fell into thought as he watched Alienor idly turning pages with the same bored expression.

'If one pillar of the two great ducal houses rises precipitously, the other must fall. Dunois, also an Imperial faction, ought to be more pressed, so how can she be so calm?'

Even as he thought this, Hiram did not cease his efforts to win Alienor over.

"The moment Cain Lorenz rose to become the Empire's second power, the balance among the three houses was shattered. Now either he kills us all, or we kill him. One of the two."

As he spoke, Alienor's lips curved ever so slightly.

It was a sneer steeped in pure malice.

"Or, if neither happens, His Imperial Majesty will kill us all, won't he?"

The instant Alienor named the Emperor, Count Hiram bit down silently and stared at her.

'A joke. In a crisis she still has room for jokes?'

Her serpent-like tone twisted his guts, but he could not show it.

Though fallen, his opponent was still one of the Empire's two great duchesses.

Her political influence was beyond imagination.

'The prestige of a ducal house that Belkuth sought for generations, and the right of private audience with the Emperor-she possesses both and does nothing...'

Forcing his expression back under control, Hiram opened his mouth again.

"There is no change to the proposal. If the marriage is agreed, Belkuth knights will support House Dunois in every way. Also..."

Hiram tried to continue, but Alienor answered even faster.

"No need. Please go."

Hiram clenched his fist and asked again, as if to be certain.

"You would spurn the hand of Belkuth?"

"Better to die a Duchess than live as a tool. Is that answer enough?"

A viper's smile. Hiram rose at once and gathered his traveling cloak.

The negotiations had failed. Every agreement between Belkuth and Dunois ended today.

"You must have some hidden confidence to act this way... but you'll regret it. You will."

After those words, Count Hiram left the mansion. Alienor watched him go, then silently gazed out the window.

Behind her came the old steward's voice. In any other house he would have long since retired, so advanced was his age.

"Though your counterpart was Count Belkuth himself, the proposal itself was flawless."

Dunois had honor but no power, while Belkuth had the overwhelming support of the new aristocracy yet could advance no farther due to its birth.

If the two houses joined forces to cover each other's flaws, they could have checked House Lorenz's political rise to the utmost.

"May I ask why you rejected the marriage, even at the cost of canceling every joint venture with Belkuth?"

At his question, Duchess Alienor turned to look at him.

"It's a political marriage, isn't it? I hate that sort of thing."

Whenever her ladyship answered with a smiling face, she was lying.

An enraptured expression, like a girl in love. The old steward could only sigh softly.

"Yes. Speak, my lady."

When his mistress wore that face, nothing could stop her.

It was a truth he had learned over long years of service.

"What would happen if a humble knight and a Duchess like me were to marry?"

"Wh-whatever do you mean, my lady?"

At the steward's question, Alienor's smile deepened.

"If it really happened-if he became my husband! How wonderful that would be!"

A smile, a radiant smile. Slowly melting into rapture, Duchess Alienor clasped herself and whispered,

"I'd lock him behind glass and love him forever, until his body rotted and crumbled away!"

The steward said nothing.

Whatever he said would no longer reach his mistress.

Hearing his name, the steward closed his eyes and bowed deeply.

"When this offensive ends, I'm thinking of holding a ball. Would you arrange it?"

The steward asked in surprise,

"With the outcome of the battle still unknown, is it not too soon to prepare a ball?"

Dismissing his concern with a bright smile, Alienor continued,

"This offensive-after all, the Empire is going to win."

Morning at the central frontline base.

To the sound of the military band, the vanguard's departure ceremony-prepared since the previous night-was finally beginning.

"Knights loyal unto death for the glory of the Empire! I am proud of you!"

Prince Gard, intoxicated by his own speech, shouted fervently, while Imperial News reporters scrambled to capture the scene.

'Prince Gard stakes everything on the war!'

'The Red Lion! A triumphant march!'

...And more such headlines. Each time Yaan imagined those propaganda sheets-and pictured his own frame among the photos-he felt nauseated.

'Especially if that punk's in them.'

Recalling Prince Gard's past actions, Yaan closed his eyes in quiet disgust.

"Rise! For the Empire! I, Gard van Vailsar, bless your path! Fight! And return victorious!"

Watching that spectacle, Yaan muttered briefly, then clicked his tongue as he took in the composition of the vanguard visible on either side of the monitor.

"This is way too blatant."

Free knights, minor nobles, and knights hailing mainly from House Lorenz.

"Everyone except Belkuth and his inner circle-sent out to die at the vanguard, huh."

Glancing at the senior Belkuth-faction officials who were watching the send-off ceremony with uneasy expressions, Yaan snorted in derision.

'Moderates must be attending this event as well. Sending such an open signal can't be good even for Prince Gard.'

Politics is a numbers game. The more allies you have, the better your position.

'Hiram. That man had pulled it off to near perfection.'

Unlike the upstart nobility's usual flamboyance, Hiram built a favorable image through composed demeanor and razor-sharp law, whereas Gard's methods carried a strong risk of backfiring.

Unless total victory was already guaranteed, Gard's conduct could unite the furious opposition and drive the moderates away.

'Well, looks like it's actually happening.'

While scanning the stiff-faced moderates in the guest seats and the Lorenz knights brimming with anger, Yaan reviewed the lessons his political mentor Ren had once taught him.

"If this deliberately assembled vanguard actually returns with real merit, the Belkuth faction won't be able to claim so much as a spoonful of credit."

That was why large numbers of Lorenz knights had been concentrated on the central front.

Knights of Lorenz who had emerged to back the new Duke of Lorenz.

The perfect stage had been prepared for them. Follow current ɴᴏᴠᴇʟs on N0veI.Fiɾe.net

"Now, knights of the Empire! To the front!"

At Gard's single command, the fortress gates that had been tightly shut swung wide.

From within, about one hundred and twenty colossi slowly marched out.

"Kill every last elf!"

Amid cheers from soldiers who knew nothing of the circumstances, countless colossi advanced.

Unlike the other knights whose family emblems were etched in vivid colors, these colossi were stark-bearing no ornament save the unit insignia.

[Glaepnir, systems starting. Shifting to cruise mode.]

Glaepnir joined their ranks and began walking toward the distant Alfraian fortress.