'Good.'
Lucian suppressed the corners of his mouth as they tried to rise.
He had no intention of abandoning Valdeck and settling down in the North—at least, that would only be the case if he were forced to give up one side.
If he could take both, he was more than willing to do so.
'Of course, the emperor wouldn't tolerate it. If I were to secure Valdeck and still set my sights on the northern throne, he'd see red.'
It was true that the emperor held Lucian in favor, but that favor only lasted so long as Lucian remained a loyal subject.
The moment he grew into a force capable of threatening the Imperial Court, he would be branded a potential traitor as if none of that goodwill had ever existed.
For now, simply planting a small seed was enough.
'So that when the age of chaos arrives, I can assert my rightful claim—by placing my people in advance, so they'll willingly join me later.'
Having concluded his thoughts, Lucian smiled and waved his hand lightly.
"My, you're taking this far too seriously. I was only asking in passing. Having received His Majesty the Emperor's grace, how could I possibly dare to act against the Empire?"
Despite Lucian's evasive words, Harald's eyes continued to shine sharply.
They looked as though they were probing whether those words were truly sincere.
Seeing Harald's stance—clearly unwilling to back down without an answer—Lucian shrugged and spoke.
"Well, even so, no one can say how human affairs will turn out. As Your Excellency said, the Empire is wavering. Not long ago, it went to suppress the Krepfeld Rebellion and returned empty-handed, suffering a blow to its prestige."
"W-what…!?"
"His Majesty is holding things together by displaying even the Imperial Family's hidden reserves, but there's no telling how long that will last. When a beast shows weakness, it gets torn at from all sides—so things will only grow harder from here."
"Hm…"
Harald lowered his gaze, his complexion turning slightly pale.
As expected, between the North's isolation and the Imperial Court's concealment, he hadn't been able to grasp the full picture.
Lucian, who had casually spoken of such grave matters, added a few more words as if in passing.
"If the Imperial Court loses the power to rein in unruly lords running amok, it would be nothing short of tragic. Should that truly come to pass, the North would have no choice but to seek its own way to survive. For instance, rallying around the old royal family and rising anew."
"There's no proof. I can't guarantee anything. It's nothing more than a dreamlike story that may never come to pass. Can you wait for that 'someday'?"
Waiting wears people down.
Even after making a once-in-a-lifetime decision, if time passes meaninglessly, the passion of that moment is bound to fade.
At Lucian's question—whether he could endure such a futile wait—Harald broke into a grin.
"I've long grown accustomed to waiting with nothing to show for it. With this life of mine not having much time left anyway, I'm willing to wait until I close my eyes."
It meant that, at the very least, he had no intention of betraying Lucian while he lived.
Hearing the answer he had hoped for, Lucian's expression turned a shade more serious.
"What do you plan to do about an heir? Aside from that traitor, it seems none of your other children are here."
"I sent my second son to a friend. His investiture ceremony was completed some time ago, but he hasn't sworn his oath of loyalty yet—so I'll have to bring him back."
"Will he follow me?"
"He takes after me, but he's got a strong rebellious streak. He's always going on about the greatness of the North and bringing up the days of the old kingdom. Lately, he's been grumbling often about the Empire's increasing interference."
"…Different temperament, perhaps—but he may have more in common with me than I expected."
At the same time, Lucian understood why that "second son" wasn't here.
If he openly displayed such a rebellious streak, he'd be an easy target to be branded a traitor by the Empire.
Harald must have sent him away before Torik or some other rival could seize on it as a pretext.
"I think so too. But as I said just now, you never know how people will turn out. He might suit you better than I do—or he might not suit you at all."
So if possible, begin the great undertaking while I'm still alive.
Once it's underway, I'll follow without weighing this or that.
Seeing Harald speak regretfully despite maintaining a bold attitude, Lucian let out a quiet chuckle.
"That's a frightening thing to say. Your Excellency should live long and stay healthy."
"Or else you could hurry things along a little."
"Well, either way, there's no harm in taking care of your health."
Lucian took out a small vial filled with nektar and set it down on the table.
At the faint bluish glow he'd never seen before, Harald blinked.
"What's this?"
"A medicine that's good for the body. Give it a try."
"Hah. If you're offering it, I suppose I'll drink it."
With a dubious expression, Harald opened the vial.
It was a sudden and suspicious gift, but clearly meant in goodwill, so he accepted it for now.
Tipping the nektar straight into his mouth in one go, Harald sat back down and looked at Lucian.
"I've taken the medicine. But no matter what its effects are, time—"
Fwoosh—
Harald froze solid, unable to finish his sentence.
He felt the surge of magic erupting inside him like a living volcano, its flow spreading throughout his entire body.
The unbelievable potency of the medicine swept over him like a storm, yet there was no pain at all.
Instead, his whole body was filled with a refreshing sensation, as if it were being cleansed down to the smallest corner.
"What… huuk!"
Startled, Harald muttered without thinking, but quickly clamped his mouth shut as the magic continued to leak out.
He felt as though, if he spoke carelessly, the surging magic might burst forth.
Only after confirming the magic that had permeated his entire body did Harald finally speak again.
"This… just what in the world is this?"
"An elixir."
"An elixir? Don't be ridiculous! This is far beyond that level!"
"Yes. An invention that could turn the world upside down. If Your Excellency were to go around spreading word of this potion, I'd be finished."
"…!"
Harald's pupils shook violently.
Just as Lucian said, this was no mere gift.
Handled poorly, it was a dangerous treasure that could overturn the balance of power across the continent.
By presenting such a treasure to Harald, Lucian was revealing his trust.
'I see.'
At last reassured, a deep smile spread across Harald's lips.
The very act of revealing such a treasure before him was tantamount to a promise that Lucian would one day rise.
"I'll have to live a long life."
So that he could see that day with his own eyes.
Just as Lucian nodded in satisfaction, having secured Harald's complete trust—
"Your Excellency, my lord. I have something to report."
Raymond's voice came from outside.
Lucian was about to ask what it was when Raymond got straight to the point.
"Hugo is currently fighting a knight from House Calyx. I believe you should come and see."
***
Sword techniques are not the exclusive domain of knights.
At times, fragments leak into the wider world through a knight's charity; at other times, by secretly overhearing instruction.
A mercenary with a notable reputation usually has at least one decent sword technique under his belt.
But no matter how many techniques one might possess, a properly trained knight is someone they are bound to lose to.
Between a commoner who learned haphazardly and a knight overflowing with high-level masters, the difference in the quality of learning is immense.
'That's certainly what I was told…!'
Clang!
'Then how in the hell is this bastard batting aside every single one of my strikes?!'
Palmyr swallowed back a scream and staggered backward.
The moment his swung blade was knocked away, a tearing pain surged up from his grip.
It wasn't visible thanks to his gauntlet, but he had clearly injured the inside of his palm.
As he flexed his throbbing hand to endure the pain, a mocking voice came from the front.
"Your attacks are getting weaker by the minute. Tired already?"
"Shut your mouth!"
Palmyr ground his teeth and glared at Hugo, but he couldn't bring himself to charge in.
If he kept pressing the attack, his hand might be ruined completely.
In the worst case, he could even be forced to retire as a knight.
'But I can't back down now either…!'
A properly trained knight admitting defeat to a mere ten-man captain? And in the North of all places?
It wouldn't end with retirement—he'd be forced to live the rest of his life in hiding, never able to show his face again.
As Palmyr wavered, unable to advance or retreat—
"How spectacular. A knight frightened into retreat by a ten-man captain."
At the familiar voice, Palmyr's senses snapped to attention.
Turning his head, he saw—just as expected—Lucian watching the scene.
Seizing the opportunity at last, Palmyr shouted with all his might.
"Count Lucian! What kind of insolence is this?!"
"I came to see you in person, yet one of your soldiers didn't even convey my visit and instead attacked me outright! Are you saying this is the will of Count Lucian—of Valdeck!?"
At Palmyr's shout, the spectators broke into murmurs.
Lucian briefly swept his gaze over them, then quietly folded his arms.
Mistaking that posture for flustered hesitation, Palmyr curled his lips into a smile.
"Explain yourself! Was this your intention?! Or was it the unilateral action of a mere soldier?!"
"If this was your will, then you must take responsibility for this act! And if it was the soldier acting on his own, then proper punishment must follow!"
Despite the triumphant outburst, Lucian didn't even twitch an eyebrow.
Lucian continued to stare at Palmyr with an indifferent gaze, his lips sealed.
As the silence dragged on and Palmyr was about to shout again—
"What are you doing right now? You should keep fighting."
"…What?"
"Weren't you in the middle of fighting my ten-man captain? Shouting is all well and good, but I don't see why you're just standing there. Hugo."
"Yes, my lord!"
"If your opponent lets his guard down mid-fight, why don't you just cut him down instead of letting him prattle on? Raise your sword!"
"Y-yes!"
At those words, Palmyr spun toward Hugo in shock.
Hugo had already set his stance properly and was advancing step by step.
If Palmyr failed to defend himself, he would be cut down on the spot.
"C-Count Lucian! What is the meaning of this?!"
"Shut up and fight. I don't care who wins or loses—settle it first, then talk. I will not permit fleeing from a duel."
"This isn't a duel! It's completely one-sided—ghk!"
Claaang!
Palmyr barely managed to block Hugo's charging strike and stumbled backward.
Whether his injury had worsened or not, the pain flaring from the center of his palm was no joke.
Gritting his teeth to suppress a scream, Palmyr was about to speak again when—
"If you abandon the duel, I'll kill you."
"!"
"Petty tricks won't work here. Don't even dream of running from the outcome. You will choose one of two things: carry your defeat with you—or be buried in the ground."
At the cold declaration, Palmyr felt a chill run down his spine.
He had thought he'd found a way out—but it had all been an illusion.
The opponent had no intention of letting him go until he chose between an honorable death and a physical one.
Belated regret swirled through Palmyr's mind.
'If only I'd made some excuse and sheathed my sword… If only I'd pretended my old ailment was acting up and collapsed…!'
Amid the cascade of regrets, Palmyr finally realized one simple truth:
None of this would have happened if he hadn't tried to place himself above Lucian in the first place.
Unfortunately, that realization came far too late.
Clang!
"Gah!"
The follow-up strike sent his blade flying high into the air.
At the same time, pain like his grip was being flayed open tore through his hand, and blood seeped out from his gauntlet.
It wasn't a sneak attack from a blind spot, nor some ingenious technique to disarm him.
It was proof that he had lost a straightforward contest of strength—and that he couldn't even withstand the shock of steel colliding with steel.
"Ah…"
Clatter.
Palmyr didn't even think to retrieve his fallen sword, instead looking around in a daze.
At some point, the spectators were all gazing down at him with eyes full of contempt.
In a situation the complete opposite of Lucian's duel, Palmyr sank to his knees, his face filled with despair.
READ MORE CHAPTERS HERE: https://shinchan2.podia.com/