WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Hydrogen B

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Chapter 86: 14. The King's Silence (4)

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Elizaveta was in high spirits. In fact, she had been unusually energetic these past few days.

She even hummed to herself now and then.

"Applications close today, correct?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Hehe, hehehe... Good. Let's see just how many magnificent nobles are eager to have me. Bring it here."

Elizaveta unfolded the list handed to her by the attendant officer and read it for quite some time.

Hm, House Sheritif. Interesting.

Count Golovinye had even entered personally? Wasn't he nearly thirty years older than her? What a lecherous old man.

Count Yermokov as well? She had thought that man had joined their side. What a two-faced bastard.

And then, uh...

Uh.

"What is this? It seems there has been an error in printing the list."

"Pardon?"

"There's a strange name here."

Elizaveta spread out the list and pointed to one corner.

"Edelplat Coenwulf. Isn't this person an elf?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

"No, not 'yes, Your Highness.' Don't you find this strange?"

"I confirmed that Lady Coenwulf personally submitted an application."

"...What?"

The attendant officer continued calmly.

"She applied through official channels, with Lady Elphihara Grikenkos and Lord Beolgreen Grikenkos acting as guarantors."

"An elf... in my marriage tournament...? No, how did she even find out about it...?"

"Well, she is an elf."

That alone was enough of an answer. Elves within the Allied Kingdoms surely knew even about the romantic affairs of provincial noble houses.

Those sly pointy-eared people did nothing but gather rumors like crows. They lurked around everywhere, listened to gossip, recorded it, and used it however they pleased.

As a result, carrying out any sort of scheme without the elves finding out was incredibly difficult.

Just as the Krasilov Counterintelligence Command specialized in domestic intelligence, perhaps even more so, the elves of the Kalion Archipelago specialized in foreign intelligence.

"Idiots. They must not know foreigners are barred from entering. Those thick-skinned fools, how can they interfere in domestic affairs so openly?"

"Um... Your Highness, that is..."

"What?"

"There is no rule barring foreigners."

"What...?"

No one had ever considered that foreigners might learn this information, much less use it.

Strictly speaking, the distinction between foreign and domestic nobles was often blurred in this era. As long as they did not belong to a hostile nation, marriages between nobles of allied countries were extremely common.

If they tried to ban foreigners outright, they would first have to decide exactly who counted as a foreigner.

If the rule required applicants to hold land within the country, nobles of the robe and personal nobles without estates could not participate.

If it required an oath of loyalty to the monarch, the range would expand enormously, even if more than half of a person's bloodline came from foreign nobility.

Among such complicated premodern family ties, a rule banning foreign participants was practically meaningless.

"Ugh... th-then if we explicitly ban elves...!"

"That would cause a diplomatic incident."

They would allow foreigners from the Allied Kingdoms but reject only elves? Those people, who believed elves could discriminate against humans but humans could never discriminate against elves, would collectively faint from outrage.

There was a strong chance that every kind of magical engineering product and irreplaceable trade good that could not be made domestically would be cut off at once.

Elizaveta sighed and muttered.

"No, more importantly... isn't this person a woman?"

"According to Lord Beolgreen, there is precedent."

"Precedent."

"Yes. There have been cases where female participants appointed representatives to fight in duels..."

"In this country?"

"Yes. He said it was part of the trial by duel laws from one hundred and thirty-six years ago."

"Should I not even ask why they know this country's history and laws more clearly than I do?"

"They are elves, Your Highness."

"Ah..."

Elizaveta covered her face and whimpered.

"Is there any chance Vanka can defeat Lady Coenwulf...?"

"Lady Coenwulf has previously served in the same theater of war as Lord Ivan Petrovich. Therefore, there is a strong chance that she has already learned Lord Petrovich's tactics."

"So what are the odds?"

"...In an environment where she can freely use ambushes and withdrawals across open terrain... I would say they are greater than fifty percent...."

Elizaveta recalled Coenwulf's epithets and clenched her teeth.

Punisher. The Queen's Great Warrior. Victor. The Ascendant Knight. Her countless other titles did not matter. She was the person the Elven Privy Council sent whenever it needed someone defeated in a duel.

In other words, even by the standards of those arrogant elves, she was the force they trusted with a duel they absolutely could not afford to lose.

Coenwulf had never lost a fight in a ring, where both sides faced each other after openly confirming each other's armaments.

"Why, whyyy... you pointy-eared bastards. Why are you doing this to me...?!"

Getting married just once was so damn difficult!

Her marriageable age was already starting to become a problem!

Ignoring the stares around her, Elizaveta threw the teacup in her hand onto the floor and sobbed.

The attendant officers stared up at the ceiling, pretending not to hear words they dared not listen to.

There were roughly two days left until the tournament.

Now, all she could do was wait and believe in Ivan's victory.

Like any noble young lady praying for the knight she admired to win a joust.

* * *

Ivan slowly examined the mana within his body as he breathed quietly.

The sensation of mana flowing through the grain of his blood vessels and muscles gradually became clearer. It was a kind of meditation that could not be used in battle.

His mana circulated without obstruction. That meant every bodily function was operating normally, or more precisely, functioning properly.

Some foolish martial artists wasted their time talking nonsense about attaining sudden enlightenment or practicing Zen through meditation. A trained agent did no such thing.

For them, meditation was a functional inspection. It was the act of confirming that every part of the body operated normally, much like maintaining a weapon.

A properly trained agent with the right mindset considered their own body a weapon.

"Colonel."

"Mm."

As he slowly prepared for the next training schedule, his attendant opened the door and spoke.

"You have visitors."

"...Visitors?"

"Yes, Miss Isabelle and Miss Aesidis are here. They wish to see you. What should I do?"

"How did civilians get past the command's front gate?"

"Um... Lieutenant Colonel Olov brought them in personally."

"Take them to the reception room. I'll be there shortly."

Ivan rose slowly and removed his blindfold. With a click, click, the white mana lamps flared to life.

He looked around once, then let out a long sigh.

"How long do you intend to lie there?"

"Ughhh...."

"Urk... ngh...."

"Your condition is even more pathetic than I expected. I'll have Dmitry submit the training plan again."

He thought he heard someone mutter, You demon, somewhere nearby, but he ignored it.

It was simply lamentable that this peaceful age had been left with no properly trained agents.

They had only gone through one cycle of basic indoor-combat dark-adaptation training, yet not one of them had managed to keep up properly.

At this rate, gathering the children and teaching them would be more productive. Ivan clicked his tongue and left the room.

* * *

"Uncle!!"

Ivan tilted his head as he looked at the loudly shouting Isabelle. Wasn't this an excessively enthusiastic welcome for someone she had not seen in three days?

"Why haven't you come to our house?!"

"Ah."

Come to think of it, he had made that promise. Ivan finally understood Isabelle's anger. It was regrettable for him as well.

Still, a soldier could not value a hobby more highly than duty.

When he explained that, Isabelle's expression turned strange.

"What duel?"

"A tournament organized by Her Highness the Princess."

"No, not that! What did you say? The prize is marriage?"

"Mm."

Was it difficult for her to understand that Elizaveta only intended to restrain opposing factions among the nobility and prove her royal authority?

They were still children, so perhaps it was hard for them to grasp complicated political matters all at once.

They were foreign nobles, of course, but they were not people who could influence what would happen in two days. Ivan decided to explain further.

The purpose of this operation was to target high-ranking domestic nobles in the first place, so Aesidis, a foreign princess, and Isabelle, a foreign noble, had no opportunity to exploit the matter.

"Not that! You said marriage!"

"Mm."

"The winner's prize!"

"Calling it a prize lacks dignity."

"What dignity? Are you out of your mind? Uncle, get a grip! You're getting married! Isn't the reason you're training this hard because you're gritting your teeth and trying to get married?!"

That was an impressive logical leap.

It was a shame the Knight Department did not offer rhetoric classes.

As Ivan struggled to find a response, Pavel grinned and added his own opinion.

"Captain, I'm saying this as your senior. You should be careful about marriage."

"What nonsense are you talking about?"

"No, don't be careful either. Life is too short even to simply enjoy it."

"That's right! You have to be careful! You should get permission from both families too!"

That last shout came from Aesidis.

She was extremely proud that she alone among them had received permission from her parents.

Ivan nodded quietly. At their age, things like marriage and tournaments might sound romantic.

The sensitive political situation and the ruthless process of purging political enemies had been wrapped in this romantic packaging, so the public would surely see it as a beautiful event.

Once again, Elizaveta's delicate political skill shone through. Ivan felt proud all over again.

"Also, why are you even training? It doesn't seem like you could possibly lose to anyone!"

"Nobles are strong, Isabelle."

Did she not know something so simple?

It was common sense that nobles were strong.

Ivan clicked his tongue inwardly. People in this premodern fantasy world sometimes showed such a strange lack of common sense.

It was difficult to get used to.

Naturally, nobles were strong. This was a world where mana and superhumans truly existed.

The reason nobles had existed on Earth was not because they possessed an innate right to rule granted by God.

They began as warlords capable of exercising real military force. On a smaller scale, they began as the strong person in a village.

Warlords who protected people lacking military strength and received ruling rights in return, and the societies that developed from them, were called feudal societies.

Earth had no mana, so the collapse of feudalism could happen alongside the development of social systems. This world was different.

Possessing military power meant being a superhuman. The rights of noble houses, where superhumans who wielded mana passed their power down through generations, naturally caused martial force to become concentrated through selective breeding.

Therefore, nobles were strong. The higher the noble, the stronger they were, to a degree ordinary people could not even imagine. The history of their bloodline was the history of victories they had built, and the legacy accumulated through those victories further solidified their rights.

As Ivan explained all that, omitting the parts about Earth's history, the expressions of everyone around him grew increasingly strange.

"Are you really in a position to say that?"

"What?"

"Those 'high-ranking nobles' who would withdraw if they knew in advance that you were competing, you're saying you have to make every possible preparation to face them, and that's why you did all this... this...."

Isabelle waved her hands wildly toward the bandaged soldiers around them.

It was a thoroughly undignified gesture. Those soldiers were all brave agents devoted to Krasilov and deserved respect.

Ignoring that, Isabelle shouted.

"You're saying the reason you prepared so hard, while smashing all these people to pieces, is because nobles are strong?"

"Mm."

"And what you get for defeating those powerful nobles is the position of husband to this country's princess?"

"That is the summary."

"Aaaaah!! Esi! Tell Dad!"

"Okay! I'll write a letter right now!"

As Aesidis and Isabelle rose while shouting, Dmitry appeared from beyond the door and gently guided them by the shoulders.

"Now, young ladies, don't worry about that. Our captain is in serious trouble now."

"Dmitry."

"Yes, Senior. Oh, I've acquired some extremely important information."

Dmitry pulled a rolled-up sheet of paper from his coat and handed it over.

When Ivan opened it, Isabelle and Aesidis hurried over to check it beside him.

It was a list. Most likely one containing the participating nobles.

At the bottom, there was one name underlined furiously in red.

-Edelplat Coenwulf. Kallion, Privy Council.

"Oh."

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Footnotes:

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