WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
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◈ Ode of the Brave ◈
Chapter 76
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Long ago, there came a time when people had to gather their strength as one. The invasions of the Salaman and orcs, and the raids of the Nords, were such times.
The tribes, once divided into dozens or hundreds, joined forces to fight, endure, and at times accept, overcoming their crises.
In the end, they survived and formed the Empire.
Among those many tribes, the Nibelung tribe took the central role. The name Nibelinger, borne by the current imperial family, meant descendants of the Nibelung.
The Empire had no official capital. Wherever the Emperor resided simply served as the capital.
The Emperor's city, Nibelungen, had once been home to the Nibelung clan and was a place of great historical importance.
However, throughout the Empire were many cities as old as, or older than, the Emperor's city.
That was why the Emperor's city was not necessarily the largest, most populous, or grandest city in the Empire. It was merely one of many well-developed cities.
Still, since it was where the king of kings lived, it served as something of an administrative center. Public order was steadier than in other cities, and goods were abundant.
One distinctive feature was the lack of walls defending the city. It was believed that the surrounding imperial domains and the territories governed by the Emperor's relatives would serve as its walls.
Nibelungen was an impressive place, with hunting grounds as wide as a modest lordship, the Main River winding around the city, broad farmlands, and neat buildings.
Like any other city, the Emperor's city had an entertainment district that was livelier at night than during the day.
Yet although it was still midday and far too early for the nighttime business to begin, a carriage pulled by two horses entered the district.
The carriage traveled along the paved road, passed large and lavish buildings, then stopped before a shabby brothel.
When the driver announced their arrival, the carriage door opened and an old man stepped out.
For an old man, his skin was remarkably clear, his posture straight, and his eyes sharp. The sword at his waist suited him well.
The old man was Hellawman, Count Palatine of Kelbron and an Emperor's Champion.
With familiar steps, he entered a brothel called Old Maid's Secret. The furniture, curtains, and carpets made a poor attempt at decorating the interior, but they could not hide its cheapness.
Several prostitutes with caked makeup and unkempt hair wandered about. They did not even show Hellawman courtesy. They acted as if he were not there, as though they had seen him many times before.
Hellawman treated them as if they did not exist either. He simply walked onward until he reached the room at the very back.
A guard with a sword at their waist turned toward Hellawman with an indifferent expression. The guard was another Emperor's Champion and one of the Emperor's close bodyguards.
“His Majesty?”
“Inside.”
“Hasn't he gotten up yet?”
The guard merely shrugged.
Only then did Hellawman let out a quiet sigh. Even a Sword Master with profound cultivation seemed to find this hard to endure.
Without knocking, he opened the door.
The Emperor lay facedown on the bed, naked and sleeping like a corpse. This was Claudius, the ninth Emperor of the Empire. His nicknames were the Virility Emperor and the Lustful Emperor.
Besides the Emperor, three women lay on the large bed. All three were too vulgar and unattractive for an Emperor to take to bed.
That was because Emperor Claudius did not discriminate among women. Once, he had said he was tired of pretty women with good figures.
Among the countless women he had bedded was Hellawman's great-great-granddaughter. The Emperor took women regardless of status, beauty, or age.
Emperor Claudius did not even know that his own daughter, Martellia, existed. Her formal family registration had simply been the result of an administrative procedure, not a decision he had made.
If that was impressive, it was impressive indeed. No one knew how many bastards he had. Only God would know.
Hellawman nudged the prostitutes awake with his foot. It was absurd enough that a Count Palatine had to wake prostitutes himself. Even more absurdly, they did not wake at once.
They writhed and tossed about for a long time before slowly getting up. When they saw Hellawman, they openly looked annoyed instead.
The prostitutes gathered their clothes and left the room. One of them even slapped the Emperor's backside.
Claudius jolted in surprise, still facedown, and grumbled.
“You crazy bitch. I don't have the strength yet.”
Hellawman silently looked down at the Emperor before speaking.
“Your Majesty, it is the Count Palatine of Kelbron.”
Claudius remained still for a moment, then frowned in irritation.
“Ah, damn... No, why must you always barge in when I'm in such an embarrassing state?”
“The sun is high in the sky.”
“Then come at night.”
“...The Empress Dowager is looking for you.”
The Empress Dowager was the Emperor's mother. With an Emperor like this, she was running the affairs of the state.
“Why? Mother will do whatever she wants anyway.”
The Emperor covered his lower body with a blanket and sat against the bed, showing his displeasure. His hair was a mess, and he did not possess even a trace of imperial dignity.
“Keeping your place and receiving envoys are also among Your Majesty's important duties.”
“So you want me to play the puppet?”
“No one would dare treat Your Majesty as a puppet.”
“I don't think that's true. Is Mother the exception?”
The words, That's because you have no ability and only cause trouble, rose to Hellawman's throat before he barely swallowed them.
“An envoy has arrived from the Kingdom of Adelorne. A rebellion seeking the royal throne has broken out, and they request Your Majesty's protection under the sacred vassal contract and marriage alliance. Even the Empress Dowager cannot handle this matter without Your Majesty present.”
“Adelorne? Where was that again?”
There were only five kingdoms within the Empire, yet the Emperor did not even know where the Kingdom of Adelorne was.
“If you change horses and ride diligently southwest from here, you can arrive within three days.”
“Then isn't it quite far away? What does it have to do with us? Why do we have vassals? Aren't they there to govern their own regions properly?”
Hellawman was so dumbfounded that no words came to him.
“Maintaining the Empire's stable peace is the Emperor's most important duty, Your Majesty.”
“Ah, that again. Duty, obligation. I'm sick of it. You just said no one treated me like a puppet, but those invisible duties treat me exactly like one. Fine. Let's do this, then. Have your precious Sword Masters go wipe out all the rebels. Wouldn't that solve it?”
“...”
“I have given my command as Emperor. So stop bothering me and deal with it yourselves.”
“...Rebellions spread like plagues, Your Majesty. Even if it is far away, if it is not put down early, seditious groups across the Empire may rise in response. Furthermore, heretical cultists calling themselves the Church of Judgment have recently been expanding their influence. If this is not stopped properly, the vassals may dare to question Your Majesty's power. It takes only a moment for a carefully built tower to collapse. If that day comes, could Your Majesty put on armor and live in a military camp, exposed to rain and wind?”
“So what do you want me to do? Are you just making excuses because you don't want to go, Count Palatine?”
“Receive the envoy and formally announce that you will summon the army. At least say that much.”
“I refuse.”
“...”
Even a Sword Master over a hundred years old had limits to his patience. Hellawman did not want to speak with him any longer.
Hellawman had served as many as five emperors before this one. One had commanded the nobles with overwhelming charisma and conquered unknown lands. Another had laid the foundation for stable rule with a brilliant mind. Another had, though lacking compared with those two, at least protected the imperial family well.
Even the other two emperors understood an Emperor's responsibilities and made some effort.
But Claudius could do nothing. No, he knew nothing. He had no motivation. No will.
“...I shall take my leave.”
Hellawman bowed and left the room filled with vulgar, unpleasant smells.
He shut the door with a sharp click.
The Emperor's bodyguard and fellow Champion spoke from outside.
“You have my sympathies, sir.”
In truth, Hellawman had been almost retired for some time. Yet the Empress Dowager had recently summoned him back to the imperial court, and when he returned, he found matters beyond his ability to handle.
A Sword Master was neither a politician nor a soldier. They were strategic and tactical weapons, closer to diplomatic tools. They were used to threaten vassals, or coax and persuade them.
Yet no matter how powerful a weapon was, it was useless if the one wielding it was such a mess.
There was an even greater reason Emperor's Champions could not move freely. They could not trust one another.
If one of them went mad and harmed the Emperor, who could stop them? Only another Champion. That was why even one Champion leaving would upset the balance of power.
It was a kind of dilemma. Champions were the Emperor's powerful weapons, but also powerful threats.
In truth, it only appeared that there had been no problems because Hellawman had protected the imperial family for so long.
Keeping Sword Masters in hand, treating them well, drawing out their loyalty, and using them properly were the Emperor's responsibilities.
“Please take good care of His Majesty.”
Hellawman patted the shoulder of the Champion he trusted most. The guard nodded.
Hellawman left the cheap brothel and entered his carriage again. When the driver cracked the whip, the horses began to run.
Inside the somewhat rattling carriage, Hellawman sank into thought. In truth, he did not have much loyalty to the imperial family either.
On the surface, he acted loyal, but his relationship with the imperial family was nothing more than mutual interest. What mattered most to Hellawman was himself, his family, and his sword.
Count Palatine was a hereditary title governing the Emperor's direct domains. If something happened to the Emperor, then problems would come to Hellawman and his family as well.
And now, he could hear the imperial family beginning to shake. There was no need to think deeply about the reason when the Emperor was like that.
Still, Hellawman was not ambitious. He had no intention of doing anything to the Emperor or the imperial family. He only thought that, in case the worst happened, he should gradually decide where he and his family would stand.
Hellawman's carriage crossed the drawbridge and entered the Imperial Palace. He got out once more and headed for his office.
A scroll sealed with a stamp lay on his desk.
He broke the wax and unfolded it. It had come from the Beringen Adventurer Guild.
It stated that Ricart and Ice had slain a high vampire and completed a Special Rank request.
“Hm...”
Hellawman's eyes remained fixed on Ricart's name for a while.
Since killing the clan master Lorenzo, Ricart had built an unbelievable record as an adventurer. He had distinguished himself in the guild war, and now he had even killed a high vampire. That cunning abomination was an opponent even Hellawman found troublesome.
It was impressive. Very impressive. His natural combat instincts and courage were remarkable.
Yet that was why Hellawman found it regrettable. The boy had no mana.
He rolled up the scroll and placed it aside, then pulled out another document from the stack on his bookshelf.
It was a list.
It contained Sword Masters hidden by each kingdom and great noble family, as well as Special Rank adventurers belonging to the various Adventurer Guilds within the Empire.
There were more than he had expected. It was as if they were deliberately avoiding showing themselves to the world.
What were they after?
Every name on the list was both a threat and a tool to the Emperor and the imperial family. Handle them well, and they became tools. Handle them poorly, and they became sharp swords that cut his own hand.
It was difficult to restrain all of them with only four Emperor's Champions. Yet he could not increase the number of Champions too much either. It was too dangerous.
Their strength could not be weighed on a scale, and finding the proper balance of power was truly difficult.
Yet among all those names, Hellawman found Ricart especially appealing.
It was regrettable, but since Ricart had no mana, his limits were clear. At the same time, his skill and nerve were not lacking, making him seem easy to use. Useful enough, but not a threat.
“It's about time for a change.”
Lost in thought, Hellawman muttered to himself.
For now, he decided to send two Emperor's Champions to the Kingdom of Adelorne.
If they fought well there, that would be good. If they died, he could simply choose new Champions.
They would not die as soon as they arrived, so while they were away on that distant assignment, he intended to cultivate new talent.
Naturally, Ricart was first on that list.
As Hellawman thought of Ricart, the knot of the problem that had troubled him seemed to loosen.
Once one knot came undone, another followed. His thoughts linked together, and he formed a plan.
He would hold a swordsmanship tournament.
Using the tournament as a pretext, he would eliminate those who needed eliminating, nurture those worth nurturing, and observe those worth watching.
As for the winner's prize, an engagement to his fifth-generation descendant, Marie, seemed sufficient.
What use were so many bastards? This was what they were for.
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