As expected, the first name to tumble out of Beric’s mouth was the High Elder.
Hmm… How best to put this to use?
Frankly, trying to blackmail the High Elder outright with this was a fool’s errand.
After all, ordering a few knights to be led astray wasn’t exactly a hanging offense.
If I started lopping off heads over something so trivial, everyone would say I was exaggerating just to wriggle out of the engagement.
Killing knights from another House on a whim? That’s the sort of thing that screams, “Your family is beneath contempt.”
But if I let them live and send them packing?
Then the tale would grow with every retelling, and before long, no one would want to join my unit.
The knights would refuse to pledge loyalty, and thanks to my antics, Lea’s standing in the family would sink.
A puppet, cowed by the High Elder. That’s the reputation I’d be saddled with.
And wasn’t that precisely what the High Elder had in mind all along?
For that wily old fox, it was a win-win: whether those poor fools died or survived, he’d profit either way.
And if I happened to get myself injured in the process, well, that would be the icing on his very bitter cake.
I glanced over at the knights quivering in the corner. They were the very embodiment of the High Elder’s scheme.
Of course, those poor souls probably had no clue they’d been tossed aside as sacrificial pawns.
If I had to guess, aside from Beric, not a single one realized they’d been used as the High Elder’s disposable tools.
As a fellow human being, I did feel a flicker of sympathy.
After all, I knew better than anyone what it’s like to be cast aside by your own family without even knowing it.
But so what? I was no saint.
If someone stood between me, my men, or my revenge, I could take their lives without a second thought.
“…I guess this is what it means to be broken.” I let out a sardonic laugh and started walking.
My goal isn’t to live a life of luxury at the Grand Duke’s house.
Revenge. That’s all.
To get it, I needed backing, and beyond that, I had to make Lea Praha the head of her House.
I had to shape her and the family, and bring Duke Artezia’s House to ruin.
So, I had to show them.
At the very least, I had to prove that, for my people, I would risk everything and become a ruler who delivers ruthless, thorough vengeance.
To become the true power in the family—not just the Young Lord of Berg brought in as a decorative son-in-law.
I had to be more ruthless and more daring than anyone else. Yes, just like the Grand Duke in his prime.
Slice!
With a single motion, I cut down the knights.
“Gaaah!”
One after another, the knights collapsed, coughing up foaming blood as they died.
I looked down at the bodies sprawled across the floor.
I’d never learned proper swordsmanship, so the wounds looked less like clean cuts and more like something torn and ragged.
And so…
By the time the sticky blood had soaked through my boots, other knights, drawn by the commotion, arrived on the scene.
“What on earth…?!” They stared at me, faces frozen in horror.
I calmly raised my hands in surrender, saying, “Take me in.”
“…From this moment, the Young Lord of Berg is placed under arrest for the murder of knights.”
And just like that, I was detained.
* * *
Honestly, being detained wasn’t all that dramatic.
I was still a noble, after all. It’s not as if they tossed me into some underground dungeon, as they would with commoners.
Most likely, it was just a temporary measure for a quick investigation.
They’d want to figure out why I’d done something so drastic, and then decide my punishment.
“…Boy.” About an hour later, the Grand Duke appeared at the temporary annex.
He glanced at me with a sigh, then gestured to the guards beside him, ordering, “Release him. I should at least hear what he has to say.”
The knights gave a sharp salute and unlocked my shackles.
I flexed my stiff wrists and rolled my shoulders, asking, “What brings you here in person?”
“…Hah.” The Grand Duke looked at my face and let out a long, weary sigh before speaking. “Tell me. Why did you do it?”
“Of course. But first…” I glanced at the guards, silently asking if they could be dismissed.
Fortunately, the Grand Duke understood, and nodded at the guards. He said, “Wait outside for a moment.”
“Your Grace, are you sure that’s safe?”
“Me? In danger?”
The guard looked worried for a moment, then realized what he’d just implied and quickly bowed his head.
“F-forgive me, sir!” The guard bowed deeply and hurried out.
I let out a quiet snort of laughter as I watched his retreating back. “You seem to have earned quite a bit of trust from your soldiers.”
“They’re not exactly on speaking terms with power, you see.”
Well, fair enough.
At this point in time, the Grand Duke hadn’t been reduced to a complete figurehead—at least not yet.
The rank-and-file soldiers still followed him, and a few members of the Elder Council were busy testing the waters between the Grand Duke and the High Elder.
Even among the knights, while only a handful, the real heavyweights—including the commander of Praha Knights—still backed the Grand Duke.
The trouble is, they’re all off guarding the Demonic Realm.
The Grand Duke’s personal guard… If even a few of them had stayed behind to keep the Elder Council in check, things might have turned out differently.
I clicked my tongue in regret… not that it changed anything.
After steadying my breath, I spoke. “The High Elder set a trap. He wanted me to kill those men.”
“…Then why did you actually do it?”
“If I hadn’t, things would have gotten much worse.” I replied in a voice that left no room for doubt.
The High Elder certainly wanted me to kill them.
But even more, he would have preferred they stayed alive. That way, he could box me in with a dilemma that had no exit.
First impressions tend to stick once an image is formed.
That’s why I’d gone out of my way to create the image of a ruler.
Besides, killing a few knights doesn’t automatically break off an engagement.
I’d certainly have to accept punishment, but that didn’t mean it would inevitably end in a broken betrothal.
And that, right there, was the escape route I’d planned for.
I met the Grand Duke’s puzzled gaze and went on. “I’ll accept my punishment.”
“…If we make a fuss, we can block this. If the others testify that you were insulted, the matter can be settled.”
“No.” I shook my head firmly at the suggestion.
That would undo all the work I’d put into building my image as a ruler. All that would be left would be the image of a mere brute.
And that simply wouldn’t do.
With an unyielding gaze, I spoke with conviction. “Have the Elder Council demand an achievement as punishment—something even they have to acknowledge.”
The Grand Duke’s face twisted into a look of pure befuddlement. He asked, “The Elder Council might indeed accept that idea. But… can you really pull it off?”
“Yes.” I let a sly smile curl at the corner of my mouth and continued. “I’ll make it so they have no choice but to acknowledge it.”
* * *
“…So, just to confirm, we’re off to get the Elder Council’s approval?” Lancelot asked, his voice echoing from inside the rattling supply wagon.
“That’s right.”
“No, hold on—what?” Lancelot muttered incredulously.
At the moment, every last one of my unit—including yours truly—was squeezed into the wagon.
Fortunately, the wagon was stuffed with straw meant for the horses, so even as we bounced along, at least our backsides were riding in relative comfort.
“Killing those knights out of nowhere was wild enough, but now you want us to get the Elder Council’s approval? And if we don’t, the engagement’s off?!”
Oh, a talent for concise summaries.
I nodded, deeply moved by the discovery of Lancelot’s hidden aptitude. “Excellent. When you’re discharged, you could always try your hand as a minstrel.”
“Oh, come on! Are you serious?!”
“Mm… Was that too difficult for you? Perhaps I should withdraw the minstrel suggestion.”
“Aaaaargh!” Lancelot howled, clutching at his hair as if he meant to rip out every last strand.
I worried he’d go bald and lose any chance of attracting women.
“If the captain gets dumped, what happens to us?!”
“Well… obviously, you’d all go back to your original units, wouldn’t you?”
“I’m already an outcast! If I go back, I’ll have to quit!”
“Oh dear… In that case, you’ll just have to work even harder.”
I clicked my tongue in mock sympathy, and Lancelot shot me a look of outrage.
But only for a moment.
Lancelot soon slumped his shoulders and let out a sigh, asking, “Is there even a way out of this?”
“There isn’t.”
“…”
“Just kidding.”
“…I’m really sorry, but could you please just hold your breath for five minutes?”
“That would kill a man, you know. You’re clearly still a bit shaky on common sense.”
“Oh, please… gods above…”
Lancelot now wore a face so tragic he looked ready to weep, sending up a heartfelt plea to the heavens.
I couldn’t help but let out a quiet, incredulous chuckle at the sight, then assured, “Really, there’s no need to fret. What we have to do is already set in stone.”
Our destination: the Barony of Harris, a remote patch of land on the Empire’s border.
It was commonly known as the backwater’s backwater. Though, one day it would become a thriving metropolis.
Because that’s where it’s buried.
The Divine Ore—Mithril.
An ore whose price was determined not by the market, but by how much you could get away with asking. And it just so happened to be buried right there.
A smile curled at my lips as I pulled out the deed Makio had written.
[ Trademaster Makio of the Miph Merchant Guild hereby transfers the trade route rights of the aforementioned territory to Louis Berg. ]
Makio, now among the stars, had left me this precious document—a treasure in its own right.
With this, all the Mithril in that land would, for all practical purposes, be mine.
Well, technically, it was supposed to be split fifty-fifty. But negotiations are a flexible art, aren’t they?
I was aiming for at least sixty-forty. Maybe even seventy-thirty if the winds of fortune were feeling generous.
After all, I was the first to discover it and held the only trade route. The odds were stacked in my favor.
As I sat there quietly grinning, Lancelot shot me a contemptuous look.
“Ugh. So what exactly are we supposed to do when we get there?” he asked.
“Open the trade route.”
“In that backwater? I mean, will the Elder Council even recognize that as a feat?” Lancelot sounded genuinely baffled.
Well, fair enough.
No one but me knew there was Mithril buried there, so his reaction was only natural.
Not that I have any intention of offering Mithril to the Grand Duke’s House, of course.
Mithril was the foundation for getting the Elder Council’s approval.
But even if I brought it to them, they’d want the Mithril and refuse the deal. I could see that coming from miles away.
Besides, sharing it with the Elder Council would be a waste.
It was almost too valuable to keep for myself, let alone to split with the enemy.
Which is why I need that particular method.
Turning the plan over in my mind, I spoke up. “Don’t worry. I’ve got a way.”
“…Well, bloody hell, then why doesn’t he share that plan of his?”
“I can hear you, you know.”
“Ah! Just talking to myself, just talking to myself!” Lancelot snapped, bristling with indignation. “Anyway, didn’t you already have it? You got it from that gambling den owner, didn’t you?”
My expression took on a rather peculiar shade at that.
I had, technically, received it. The catch was, you needed a merchant guild to actually use the trade route.
“To use the trade route, we’ll need a guild, so we’ll have to find one there.”
“Then why not just bring one from the North?”
…Yes, because advertising the presence of Mithril is exactly what I want to do.
“If you were a merchant, would you trek all the way out to some remote village, far from the North, just because someone said, ‘Hey, let’s open a trade route together’?”
“Um… I suppose not?”
“There’s your answer.” I nodded as if this was the most mundane thing in the world.
In any case…
Judging by the fact that the shape of a village was starting to emerge, it looked like we were nearly there.
“Get ready,” I said.