WeTried Translations x Flame Comics
Translator/Editor: Hydrogen B
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Chapter 141: The Rebellion of the Three Counts (1)
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It would not have been an exaggeration to say that every eye in Tilles was fixed on the Vernina Mountains at that moment. The royal family, the House of Nobles, even the three counts.
Whenever a high-ranking noble with formidable military authority mobilized troops, it naturally drew attention. Whether it was a military provocation against a foreign country or a march to stage a coup, a hunt was always the easiest excuse for gathering a large force.
Even foreign spies were watching Gilles Ver de Etakrikh’s expedition. In other words, every intelligence organization had noticed the inferno consuming the Vernina Mountains.
At that moment, every powerful figure in Tilles could feel the tremor of a massive earthquake shaking the balance of power that had stood firm since the last war.
The Vernina Mountains, the epicenter, would soon become a tidal wave that swept across the entire country. True power was born in troubled times.
Amid the earthquake shaking the nation, three men burst into laughter.
* * *
“Ha, hahaha, bwahaha!!”
Jean Beltua of House Vermonfort, lord of Perbonne, the great estate nearest the Vernina Mountains, laughed as he listened to the urgent report brought by a messenger.
“So those idiots were right for once!”
“What shall we do?”
“We’ll sit back and reap the rewards. Wait for Guillaume and Etouan to raise their armies. If those fellows march on Saint Matilene, they’ll have to pass nearby.”
A wise man never stained his own hands with blood. Let the lowborn handle the unpleasant work, while the nobles simply accepted their grain as tribute.
Why would he need to strike at the royal family himself? There were so many others willing to do it for him.
Jean Beltua sipped his wine and reclined on the sofa.
* * *
Etouan de Grandmartel, Grand Count of Narbonne, looked down over the military camp from atop a pure white horse. Countless soldiers gazed up at him with torches held high.
It was a sight that would make any man’s blood race. The Grandmartel family banner, a griffin entwined with roses, loomed over him in the red torchlight.
The three greatest houses among all of Tilles’s powerful noble clans had gathered. The three grand counts had joined hands for this moment alone.
The house of whoever remained standing at the end would no longer be called a count house. It would be a royal house. The Tilles royal family would fall, and the age of the Grandmartel royal house would begin.
Etouan was certain he could make it happen. He possessed the greatest military strength, the most stable supply routes, and the most seats in Saint Matilene’s House of Nobles.
“Your Highness. The beacons have risen in Vernina.”
“What of Orléans and Vermonfort?”
“Even if Orléans marches at full strength, it will still be at least three days late. Vermonfort will not dare send out troops before Saint Matilene is under siege.”
“Fools.”
Etouan turned his horse with a cold smile.
“Have they forgotten that Saint Matilene cannot even attempt a defense? The defense force has barely more than three thousand men, and the House of Nobles will gladly open the gates for us.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Tell the soldiers that hunting season is over. Harvest season has come.”
The deer hunt was over. The deer that had dared oppose the dragon had been gloriously burned to death. Now all that remained was the far easier task of gathering the fallen grain.
“Krasilov and Kallion’s response is the only variable.”
“Kallion will change sides whenever it suits its interests, so that should not matter.”
“And Krasilov has no legions to send this far.”
Krasilov was already committing two legions simply to hold the Northern Front, while the Royal Guard was busy dealing with the aftermath of the large-scale rebellion only a few months ago.
Even if Krasilov did send troops, Tilles’s fate would already be sealed with the Defender Duke’s death.
Who would take up sword and spear for a country that no longer had the knight who protected it?
Grandmartel commanded seven thousand five hundred infantry and eight hundred fifty cavalry, including three hundred knights.
The Baron of Blancmont commanded three thousand seven hundred infantry and three hundred cavalry, including fifty-two knights.
The Baron of Lamonne commanded three thousand infantry and two hundred cavalry, including forty knights.
The Viscount of Conter commanded seven hundred fifty infantry and thirty cavalry, including five knights.
Fleuville, Monne, Purignon, Bru... Combined with every force fielded by the vassals of House Grandmartel, the total came to:
Nineteen thousand infantry, twenty-seven hundred cavalry, and more than five hundred knights alone.
The Eastern Army numbered roughly thirty thousand in total. Setting aside conscripts and tenant farmers, one full legion had effectively been formed under Grandmartel’s name alone.
Considering how sharply Tilles’s mobilization capacity had fallen since the last war, nearly half of its potential wartime strength was in this man’s grasp.
He could not lose. Not at home, not abroad. Not under any circumstances.
Within five days, the name of the country would change.
* * *
“My lord, an urgent report. Count Grandmartel has begun his advance.”
“Good. That boar will charge straight for Saint Matilene, won’t he?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Then let’s do our job.”
Guillaume grinned and tapped the map with his finger.
“What an idiot. If the capital falls, he can call himself royalty if he wants, but what matters in the end is how many estates he can win the loyalty of.”
“Precisely so, Your Highness.”
“Secure oaths of loyalty throughout the west, using the Vernina Mountains as our boundary. Then, when Etouan holds his coronation or whatever else, we’ll finish this.”
Tilles would be divided around the Vernina Mountains. The rough lands of the east would be abandoned entirely.
Once the dragons of Vernina killed Gilles Ver, the land beyond the Vernina Mountains would become a land of death. The Eastern Front would be unable to hold back the demonfolk.
Even if the demonfolk marched in and trampled Tilles’s territory, the Vernina Mountains would remain intact. Dragons were arrogant and greedy by nature. Even the demonfolk would not be able to control them.
So.
“If we throw prey to the dragons and make them our new Eastern Front legion, wouldn’t that create the finest natural barrier?”
“Truly wise, my lord!”
Tilles would lose roughly thirty percent of its territory, but the eastern lands beyond were dead ground with barely any production to speak of. Tilles’s heart lay in its western granaries, and its wealth came from trade.
In other words, whoever controlled the trade ports and granaries would become the next royal house of this land.
“I thought him pathetic when I heard he’d been chased out like a dog by his younger sister and was wandering around, but that head of his works remarkably well.”
“Hehe, yes, my lord. But could it compare to your generosity in taking in even a prince expelled from his own country?”
“Yes, exactly! Bwahahaha!!”
Guillaume II stopped laughing and stared darkly at one corner of the map.
“What about that demonfolk called Vargadal?”
“Vargadal is moving according to plan, Your Highness.”
“Good. We should prepare as well.”
“Yes, Your Highness!”
When a demonfolk warband that had “coincidentally” broken through the Eastern Front trampled the estates of Tilles, the Count of Orléans’s army would appear at just the right time to save those lands in peril.
While the Count of Orléans devoted himself to the country, Etouan, who had dared burn Saint Matilene for his own ambition, would become a traitor in history.
Jean Beltua, that timid fool, would submit to whoever held the advantage.
Then this country would become Tilles of the Grand Ducal House of Orléans. There would not even be a need to claim the throne. If Guillaume seated one member of the king’s cadet line upon it and ruled as regent, every power in the nation would obey him.
This was how politics was done. Raising an army alone could not swallow a country. He was different from the stupid Etouan and the petty Jean Beltua.
This was the quality of a sovereign. Guillaume smiled and rose from his seat.
The Three Counts’ Rebellion had begun.
Ep 22. The Rebellion of the Three Counts.
“Urgent dispatch! Count Etouan de Grandmartel has begun advancing from Narbonne!”
“Urgent dispatch! Count Jean Beltua of Vermonfort has cut off every trade route connected to Saint Matilene!”
“Urgent dispatch! A Taurus warband has been confirmed in the eastern Rochere region! Their numbers are approximately seven hundred fifty!”
“Urgent dispatch! The Vernina Mountains have been engulfed in flames! Gilles Ver de Etakrikh’s survival is uncertain!”
Pavel fell silent as he received the reports arriving one after another, almost without pause.
Tap. Tap. Tap. His hand, which had been drumming against the table where the operational map lay spread out, stopped at the final report.
Under the dim white mana lamp, Pavel went rigid.
“The commander?”
“All intelligence networks deployed in that direction are being cut off. According to visual observations, the entire mountain range has been engulfed in flames... Dragons... At least forty were observed in the sky alone.”
“Dragons. Dragons, is it.”
Pavel slowly touched his waist and muttered bitterly.
“Didn’t I tell you I would go, you foolish junior?”
Shouldn’t the older man be the one to die first? Pavel clenched his teeth. Now he really was the only one left from the late king’s Royal Guard.
The mana lamp swayed weakly. Mana leaking from Pavel’s body, beyond his control, stirred a breeze around him.
Amid murderous intent reeking of iron and blood, Pavel ground his teeth and spoke.
“We are returning home.”
“Pardon? B-but Deputy Commander...”
“The Counterintelligence Command’s Foreign Intelligence Bureau will withdraw from Tilles as of today. Treat this as a royal command. From today onward, Tilles is no longer an allied nation.”
Pavel put on his coat and spat the words at the agents staring at him.
“Tilles will certainly fall. There is only one thing left for us to do.”
Punish the traitors who had defiled the alliance’s banner.
Take revenge on those who had driven their commander into certain death and thrown him to the dragons as prey.
For the two crimes committed by this country’s nobles, Krasilov had only one answer to give.
“When we return to Saint Matilene, we will come as invaders.”
Pavel turned around. Every agent of the Counterintelligence Command followed him out.
Soon, mana crackled into sparks, and the Saint Matilene safe house began to burn.
Feeling the flames spread behind him, Pavel gave a bitter smile.
They felt like beacons signaling the fall of a nation.
“How am I supposed to report this to Her Highness...?”
* * *
Footnotes:
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