We arrived at the village entrance, only to be promptly blocked by a guard.
“Halt.”
His voice was firm, and he stood straight-backed.
The man looked every bit the perfect knight—if you ignored the fact that his armor could hardly be called knightly.
His helmet was nowhere to be seen, and his armor was liberally decorated with patches of grime and unidentifiable stains.
To complete the ensemble, his spear was so rusted it looked unlikely to slice even the humblest of apples.
He was the very image of someone born in a poor domain, possessing all the makings of a knight—except, of course, for the resources.
If he’d been born in the Imperial Capital, he’d have become a great knight by now.
I regarded the guard with a flicker of sympathy.
Just then, the guard approached Hans and asked, “Where have you come from?”
Perhaps it was the sharpness in the guard’s gaze, but Hans blinked nervously, his lips twitching.
“Uh… well, that is…”
Watching Hans, I let out a sigh.
He’s good at everything else, but whenever he gets scared, he freezes up completely.
Still, I suppose I should be grateful—he’s always ready to lob a rock if I’m in danger.
In any case…
With a faint sigh, I climbed down from the wagon and approached the guard, explaining, “I’m here on behalf of the Miph Merchant Guild for trade.”
“…Trade, sir?” The guard glanced at the wagon, as if wondering what on earth we planned to sell. He asked, “Are you planning to sell the wagon itself?”
“You’ve got a knack for jokes, I see.” I gave a wry smile and pulled out the certificate of passage from my coat.
The guard frowned as he examined the Miph Merchant Guild’s crest and the Emperor’s seal.
“…That’s the real seal.”
“Of course. Would I bring anything less?”
The guard eyed me and the wagon with lingering suspicion.
But at last, he let out a shallow sigh and spoke. “Even if you’re here for trade, I’ll need to confirm your identity.”
“Very by the book, I see.”
“It’s only proper.”
Proper…
I eyed the guard with curiosity.
Truth be told, this is exactly how any guard ought to behave. That’s the proper posture for a guard, and the sacred duty of anyone stationed at the entrance to a domain.
But really, when has the world ever run according to rules and principles?
Some people, eager to pad their purses, will let anyone pass for the right sum. Others, at the mere sight of a noble’s seal, will fling open the gates in a panic.
Power and money have a way of making people abandon their duties altogether.
But the guard before me was different.
Born in a land with nothing to his name, yet he wasn’t greedy. He wanted only one thing, which was to carry out his duty perfectly—even if the person he was checking carried the Emperor’s own seal.
“Impressive.” I found myself nodding at the guard, almost involuntarily. “You’re right. Identification must be checked.”
“Thank you for understanding.”
“It’s only natural. I am Louis Berg.”
“You mean the House Berg?”
“So you know of it.”
“Of course I know, but…” The guard’s eyes flicked to the cargo wagon.
If I had to put that look into words, it would be: “So you’re saying a direct descendant of House Berg came all the way to the Empire’s frontier in a cargo wagon, just to do business?”
Or something like that.
I read the meaning in his eyes and let out a faint sigh.
It’s not as if I wanted to ride in this thing.
Of course I’d have preferred a luxurious carriage. But if I arrived in one of those, the rest of the Elder Council would know exactly where I was.
A cargo wagon might slip by unnoticed, but a fancy carriage would stick in everyone’s memory.
So what can a poor nobleman do?
He can only ride the cargo wagon and get on with it.
“…Don’t judge me too harshly now. There’s a reason for all this.”
“Understood.”
“You believe me?” I asked, a bit surprised
The guard nodded and replied, “Yes, sir. It’s honestly hard to believe, but I once saw another member of House Berg from afar. The air about you is the same as his. That’s why I’ve decided to believe you.”
Another member of House Berg?
Well, it couldn’t have been Father, so it must’ve been one of my brothers...
Who could that be?
No, more importantly—how on earth did he recognize that?
I blinked in bewilderment, then nodded in acceptance.
Well, if things are going smoothly, why question it?
If someone’s willing to take you at your word, there’s no need to poke the situation with a stick.
“Then, may I go in? I’d rather like a rest,” I asked.
“Yes, please go ahead.”
“Oh, and if you could tell me where Baron Harris lives, I’d appreciate it. As I mentioned, it’s for business.”
“Understood. I’ll fetch my father.”
…Mm? His father?
* * *
The guard, who had all the makings of a knight, turned out to be the baron’s son.
Sure, in a village this small, the odds of the local guard being the baron’s son aren’t zero—but they’re not exactly what you’d call likely, either.
I snorted in incredulous amusement.
A baron’s son, working as a guard. That’s a combination you don’t see every day.
Nobles, as a species, generally prefer to avoid jobs that involve actual work. There’s a good reason people call them well-fed pigs.
Though I’m sure there are exceptions…
Some, like the Ducal House of Praha, earn their honor by holding back the Demonic Realm. Others, like House Berg, are known for getting along with the people of their domain.
At any rate…
Our group followed the guard’s lead to the Baron’s Manor.
But calling it a manor was a stretch; it looked much too shabby for that. It was less a stately home and more a perfectly average dwelling.
A product, no doubt, of rural life and a lord who didn’t bother with pretensions.
“To think a lord lives in a place like this… Maybe he doesn’t make much money himself?” Lancelot muttered beside me.
I wasn’t sure what was running through his mind, but I could say with confidence that he was mistaken.
Even a lord in the middle of nowhere, if he put his mind to it, could amass more wealth than most rich men.
But just then… an elderly man appeared behind Lancelot, speaking quietly.
“Hoho… What kind of lord would I be if I lived better than my own people?”
The old man turned his head to look at me, then bent his already hunched back even further, saying, “It is an honor to meet a descendant of House Berg.”
“You are the baron, my lord?”
“Please, speak freely. I’m just a mere baron, after all.” The old man let out a hearty chuckle as he answered.
As expected, the old man was indeed the baron.
He remained bowed, still addressing me with deference.
I waved my hand, a flicker of discomfort showing on my face. “Please, do stand up. It’s making me uncomfortable.”
“As you wish.” Only then did the baron straighten his back and take a seat in front of me.
He poured some water into a shabby stone cup and handed it to me, speaking as he did so. “I never imagined I’d see another member of House Berg before my time was up.”
“Another member?”
“Yes, I once had the honor of meeting someone else from your House.”
“And who was that?”
“Lord Ron Berg.”
Ah, my second brother.
But what was he doing here?
What’s someone who should be with the Imperial Knights doing all the way out in these hinterlands?
I tilted my head, looking puzzled.
The baron chuckled again and continued. “Every so often, Kobolds swarm around our territory. But with the forces we have, we can’t handle those beasts. So we appeal to the Imperial Palace, asking them to send troops to help us deal with the situation.”
“So my brother was the one who came?”
“Precisely.” The baron chuckled again, gazing up at the ceiling as if searching for an answer among the cobwebs.
There was a hint of bitterness in his expression.
“He was remarkable. Watching him single-handedly wipe out a horde of Kobolds was like seeing a myth unfold before my eyes. If my own son had been born somewhere other than a baron’s household, perhaps he too could have spread his wings.”
“…”
“Ah, forgive me. I’ve shown you a rather undignified side.”
The baron hurriedly collected himself and bowed his head.
When I waved my hand to say it was fine, only then did he look up, visibly relieved.
“Now then, what brings the Young Lord of Berg all the way out here?”
“I made it known I was here on business, but it seems the message never made it to your ears.”
I sipped the water the baron handed me and nodded in satisfaction.
Hmm. There’s a definite hint of grain in this water.
The baron continued, wearing an odd little smile. “To this old man, it doesn’t seem like an ordinary trading venture. If I had to guess, you look like someone in need of a little assistance.”
Mm… Clearly, the baron hadn’t spent his years simply collecting dust and nostalgia.
It seemed he wasn’t just a kindly old soul, after all.
But honestly, that was a mark in his favor as a business partner.
There’s nothing quite as foolish as doing business with someone who just nods along like a bobblehead. I’d seen plenty of such types go bankrupt with alarming regularity in my previous life.
That won’t be me.
I nodded, meeting the baron’s eyes.
In that sense, he was exactly the sort of person I wanted. Not greedy enough to line his pockets until his trousers burst, but sharp enough to keep up.
Someone who’d gladly join hands with me if it meant developing his territory.
That was the measure of the baron I’d gleaned in our brief conversation.
And then there’s that guilt he feels toward his son. If I settle that, he might just bet his life on this partnership.
A satisfied smile crept onto my face.
Wasn’t he the perfect business partner, if ever there was one?
I pulled out the deed of transfer and showed it to the baron.
“Baron. Would you care to go into business with me?”
* * *
Meanwhile, just as Louis was beginning negotiations with Baron Harris…
Hera Artezia was busy grinding her teeth across from Verick Dragunov.
“When exactly do you plan on doing something? At this rate, I’d say that fool Louis will die of old age before you even lift a finger,” she spat.
“Haha... You really do have a talent for jokes.”
“Do I look like I’m joking to you?!” Hera snapped.
Verick Dragunov set down his coffee cup with a soft clink before replying. “Oh. You’re not?”
Though mirth still curved his lips, his eyes had gone cold—cold enough to make a snowman shiver.
“You’re certainly bold, my lady. Everyone in the Duchy knows your father tossed you aside—hardly a secret, that.”
“…What did you just say?”
“I’m telling you to shut your mouth and drop your pride. What if you keep flapping your lips like that and end up hurting that pretty little face of yours?”
Verick smiled and reached out, stroking Hera’s cheek.
His fingers moved slowly, but the touch was as sharp as a freshly honed blade.
Hera’s expression tightened.
Verick gave a brief, amused snort and withdrew his hand, remarking, “I really do like your face. Even if you never won the Duke’s favor, I rather like that you carry the Duke’s blood.”
“…”
“So, you see, we’d make a perfect couple. My family’s money and power, your family’s title and influence—together, we’d be the greatest House in the land. So—”
As he spoke, Verick reached for Hera’s dress. He pulled back the fabric at her chest and drew out the token hidden within.
The Token of Death Veil.
One of the methods to wield Death Veil now gleamed in the light.
“—do take care to keep that lovely face of yours safe. I’ll take care of that Berg scoundrel for you.”
Hera bit her lip, unable to say a word.
If she could, she’d have asked him to kill her father as well, but that was a wish best left unspoken.
If Verick ever used that as leverage, she’d have no way out.
I can’t trust this man completely.
Hera held her breath and pressed her lips together. She couldn’t trust him, not entirely—but she couldn’t throw him away, either.
If she lost Verick now, she’d have no choice but to become the wife of that ancient marquis.
Reluctantly, Hera nodded and said, “Fine… But deal with Louis Berg right away. Otherwise, I’ll end up with that old marquis.”
“Haha, don’t worry. That’s not going to happen.” Verick smiled, clearly satisfied with Hera’s obedience.
Verick looked down at the token in his hand, lips curling upward in a smile.
“I’ve gotten in touch with Death Veil. Tomorrow, I’ll be heading straight to meet them.”