WeTried Translations x Flame Comics

Translator/Editor: Hydrogen B

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Chapter 129: 19. Royal Permission

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Ivan stared silently at the blackboard in the clubroom, his face drawn.

Eugene finished writing and turned around. He had copied down every word displayed in the quest window.

[???-Rank Quest, Shadow Over Tilles.]

"Tilles."

Ivan let out a short groan. It fell within the range of what he had expected, yet it was something he had hoped would not happen.

Every nation in the Allied Kingdoms carried the risk of civil war.

That was Ivan's tentative conclusion. Perhaps it was only natural. The demonfolk could no longer create any sort of threat through their own strength alone.

The Demon King and roughly half of the Seven Dragon Generals had died during the war. The remaining members of the Seven Dragon Generals had barely managed to gather their subordinates before retreating beyond the border.

They likely would not attempt to seek hegemony before the Hero Party faded away with time. Those who had called themselves gods had learned that they, too, could die.

In this era, the Seven Dragon Generals had to be wary not only of the Hero but also of one another. Now that it had been proven that even the Seven Dragon Generals were not immortal, they were far too greedy to quietly join hands.

So if a crisis requiring the Hero Party was to arise once again in this era, the demonfolk alone would not be enough.

‘Krasilov and Droan both faced the threat of civil war.’

It had ended a little too quickly, but the Droan rebels had attempted to kidnap Aesidis. Had they succeeded, war would have broken out between Einar and Krasilov.

If the Jarls of Droan had then staged a large-scale rebellion, Krasilov would surely have sought an alliance with them. Einar was too dangerous an enemy to leave unchecked.

After Einar died, Droan would split apart once more. Present-day Droan was a great kingdom held together solely by Einar's powerful charisma. The next generation had no future.

‘On Krasilov's northern front, the dwarves would have risen up alongside a necromancer.’

If every situation had unfolded according to the scenario, Krasilov would have fallen within ten years. Just like Droan.

Then was it really such an unreasonable assumption that similar events were occurring all over the world at once?

Probably not.

‘Because it is standard to prevent the world's destruction just before graduation in an academy story.’

Sadly, according to the conventions of academy stories, protagonists could never graduate properly. Ever since Harry Potter dropped out in his final year, the likelihood of a protagonist graduating had converged on less than five percent as academy stories became an established genre.

[You have detected a conspiracy spreading among the noble houses of Tilles. The seeds of a long war, continuing from the Eastern Front in the past, are only now beginning to ignite.]

The Eastern Front.

Ivan had never fought in that theater himself, but according to the records, it had been a full-scale war against heavy infantry that included orcs and Tauruses.

Even Tilles's cavalry, considered superior to any other nation's forces in mobility and shock power, had struggled to halt the demonfolk army's advance in those days.

At the very least, it was likely that remnants of the old demonfolk army had joined hands with a faction of nobles plotting rebellion. Just as they had in Krasilov.

"Good work."

Ivan spoke briefly as he rose from his seat.

Eugene had not jumped to his own conclusions. He had confirmed the gravity of the situation and uncovered a deeper scenario rather than stopping at the simple conclusion of "demonfolk spies."

It was all thanks to the kid's competence.

Ivan looked at Eugene with fresh eyes.

The Status Window was certainly more useful than he had expected.

"If this is part of the scenario's progression, like you said, shouldn't we take the protagonists with us?"

"Probably."

"All of them?"

"There's no need."

Taking the entire Hero Party would mean too many people, would be difficult to manage, and would serve no purpose.

Lucia's growth far outstripped that of the other party members. She had trained as Enrika's direct disciple. Lucia would be excluded.

She was the most reliable person for a mission requiring only two people, but in this sort of group battle, Ivan could do everything Lucia could do, only better.

Their roles overlapped. Both had learned from Enrika, so it could not be helped.

And Rundis was a dwarf. In Krasilov, perhaps, but in other countries, dwarves were still considered part of the demonfolk army. Taking Rundis on an expedition abroad would require national-level support.

"You'll be coming too."

"...Me?"

"We'll need the Status Window."

The Hero Party of this generation had no priest. Eugene could not use many kinds of blessings, but the Status Window more than made up for all those shortcomings.

That left Isabelle, Elphihara, Oscar, Aesidis, and Eugene as the party members.

Yuri could be replaced by Oscar, and Oswald by Elphihara. Their roles were interchangeable, but Oscar was absolutely necessary for this mission.

Having roughly finished the plan, Ivan cleared his place and stood.

"Gather the personnel and finish preparing for deployment."

"What about you?"

"Reporting."

This scenario exceeded his purview. Tilles was not even a potential enemy nation but an allied country, so there were limits to how freely he could act there.

The situation could easily turn into a serious diplomatic issue. Even the Annihilation Unit needed prior authorization in a case like this.

Fortunately, it probably would not be difficult. Just as Ivan trusted Elizaveta, she trusted him.

Ep. 19. Royal Permission.

After reading the report to the end, Elizaveta sank deep into her chair and let out a sigh. Only after pressing firmly against the bridge of her nose for a moment did she speak in a quiet voice.

"I will not grant permission."

"...Your Highness."

"I am not rejecting the request, Vanka. I will not grant permission."

She opened her eyes as she finished speaking firmly. Her sharply upturned eyes seemed especially fierce today.

"I will discard this report. Do not submit it again."

"Your Highness."

"Am I still your liege?"

"...Yes, Your Highness."

"And in the future?"

"Forever, Your Highness."

"Then obey."

Elizaveta answered in a sharp voice, as if she would allow no further argument.

Yet Ivan, kneeling before her, still did not rise. As always.

He was a man who always achieved what he set out to do, who always carried out any order he received. He had lived that way, and he knew no other way. Stubborn through and through.

She loved such a man. In this ever-changing world, even in this frozen country, he was the only one who had remained in the same place from the very beginning.

That was why Elizaveta could not cast him aside. Even when he misunderstood her intentions and carried out an operation as he saw fit, she did not blame him. She knew that, from his perspective, it was ultimately all for her.

Loyalty alone. Duty alone. The nation alone.

He had lived such a life, and even if only death waited at its end, he would still walk that road. When ordered to fight and die, he had never protested. He had simply marched forward.

So she alone in this world could not hate him. She could not cast him aside or treat him coldly. She owed him a debt greater than the debt this country owed him.

But how was she supposed to persuade this stubborn man? If she let him go like this, he would surely run off, saying he would handle it himself.

"Ivan. Raise your head."

"..."

At last, at her weary voice, Ivan slowly raised his head.

In the lavish interior of the chancellor's office, with the sunset spilling beyond the window at her back, Elizaveta looked down at him with a tired face.

"It's too dangerous."

"There has never been a time when it was not."

"But in those days, you did not go alone."

Foreign rebels and demonfolk activity. Why should Krasilov solve that? Did that country have no capable people? No legions? Tilles was even a powerful nation with two members of the Hero Party.

There was no need to say any of that. Elizaveta never said things like, "The weather is nice today, isn't it?" There was no need to share obvious facts. Ivan had already considered every question on her mind and would be prepared to refute it.

She could not persuade him with that.

"I... I... All I ever wanted from you was one thing. To stay by my side. That was all."

"Your Highness."

"Enough. Listen to me."

She dropped the titles. She had no intention of standing on ceremony.

Elizaveta walked lightly over and stopped before Ivan. Her silver hair flowed gray through the darkened room, solemn as ash left behind after a fire.

She stood still and looked down at him.

"When your will matched mine, I was happy. When your will differed from mine, I was pleased. There were times when your actions frustrated me, but your resolve has never faded. That is what you are to me."

"Your Highness."

"That is why I smiled even when you defied my wishes. No, I welcomed it. Absolute power always corrupts. I could rest easy knowing there was at least one person in this country who would not do as I wished."

With a rustle, her hair draped over Ivan's head.

It blocked the mana lamp, and a long shadow stretched across the floor.

"It is proof that I have not ruled alone, that I still serve this country faithfully, that I have not sought power for my desire alone. That is what you mean to me. A vassal who will not do as I wish, who opposes me, yet will remain on my side forever."

Her pale fingers ran down Ivan's cheek and stopped at his chin.

"So listen to me this once. It is dangerous. Everything that happens in this country now lies in my hands, so whatever you do, I can take responsibility and cover it up. If you head into danger, I can support you with every authority the Lord has permitted me. But once you leave this country, you are merely a single soldier."

"Your Highness, I do not overestimate my abilities."

"But you are certain of them. I trust your abilities as well. I know what you can do and how far you can go. That is why I am even more worried."

Just as she trusted him, he must also trust himself. He would surely push himself to the exact limits of his ability.

What would remain after he drove himself mercilessly to complete the operation? Who could help him? In this country, Elizaveta could use every political asset she possessed to send three entire legions marching, but she could not do that in Tilles.

There would be no way to recover a fallen Ivan and return him to his homeland. Yet she knew he would become entangled in such an incident.

If it had been an ordinary matter, something Tilles could handle on its own, Ivan would not have planned to intervene while openly defying her wishes.

That was why, because she understood Ivan too well, she could not send him.

How terrible must the battlefield be if this man judged, in a nation where members of the Hero Party were still active, that it would be dangerous unless he went himself?

"Stand."

"..."

Ivan rose without answering.

Elizaveta's gaze slowly traveled upward. He was a handspan taller than her. Broad shoulders, solid muscles, and the shadow cast by his dependable silhouette wrapped around her as though embracing her.

His clear blue eyes looked directly down at her.

"Remove your shirt."

"..."

He still did not answer. He had received an order, so he carried it out. That was the only emotion visible in his bearing.

Rustle. Slide.

His coat and shirt fell from his hands.

There was no sexual tension at all. He was a man who viewed his own body as nothing more than part of his equipment, and she was his liege, ordering such a man to show it.

His upper body, hard muscle, sinew, and raised veins, without even a trace of fat, was revealed beneath the mana lamp.

"You have more scars I haven't seen before."

"I received them during the previous operation."

His body resembled a canvas ruined by countless scars, densely covered like the wild scribbles of a child. Old and faint yet deep scars ran closely together like cracks across a broken window.

Wounds, punctures, cuts, lacerations, burns, abrasions, stab wounds.

Every kind of mark a person could suffer on their body.

They were a history of struggle in themselves, medals from his years of service. Among them were several distorted scars unlike any she had seen before.

A deep burn near his heart. The shape of fingers.

"Was your heart struck?"

"I cauterized it myself."

"Was that battle truly necessary?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Didn't it hurt?"

"No, Your Highness."

"Weren't you suffering, sad, or afraid?"

"No, Your Highness."

Elizaveta placed a hand against his chest and smiled sorrowfully.

"I am sad. I am suffering, afraid, and in pain. Ivan... Your body is human. The body of an ordinary person, one that can break, shatter, and fall apart when used too harshly."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Even knowing that, must you do it?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

His answer was always the same.

Yes, Your Highness.

Yet within every answer, Elizaveta could understand the intentions of this inarticulate man.

I know it is the body of an ordinary person.

I know that one day I will die.

But even knowing that, there are things that must be done.

So please grant permission, Your Highness.

There was no promise that he would return safely in any of those answers. As always.

"Ivan."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Call me as you did before. Like those days."

"..."

Ivan remained silent.

Elizaveta met his eyes for a moment, then lowered her head again.

Soon, a low voice reached her ear.

"Elise. Trust me."

"Sir Ivan Petrovich..."

She buried her face against Ivan's chest and trembled for a moment.

After several seconds of silence, she pushed Ivan away with trembling hands and turned her back to him.

"I grant permission for your request."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Go. And return."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Ivan quietly dressed himself, bowed deeply, and left.

The moisture left on his chest dried quickly.

As it always did.

EP 19. Royal Permission.

Footnotes:

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