WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

Chapter 143: What Are You Doing?

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The Empire's military power was complicated.

First, there was the private military corporation known as Crow Company. The contract they had signed with the Empire five hundred years ago had ended long ago, but the Central Branch within imperial territory was still Crow Company's largest source of revenue. They produced and supplied practically everything the Imperial Army needed.

Beyond supplying materials, the private troops raised by the Central Branch and the mercenaries they brokered contracts for were also under contract with the Imperial military.

In other words, most of the swords the Imperial Army swung, the armor they wore, the food and daily necessities they ate and used, even every pair of underwear issued to them, had passed through Crow Company's hands. If the Empire entered a full-scale war, mercenaries brokered by the Crows would fill out the Imperial Army's ranks, while the private troops raised by the Crows would support the rear.

This relationship, formed over centuries, had gone beyond simple business. The Empire could not wage war efficiently without the Crows, and the Crows could not maintain their current scale without a customer as vast as the Empire.

They needed each other, a symbiotic relationship. At a glance, that was what it looked like, but it was not entirely welcome to the Empire. If merchants who sold war had control over the Empire's military supplies, that leash could one day tighten around the Empire's own neck.

Did the Crows welcome the arrangement, then? They did. Yet according to the information Kyle had reviewed on Crow Company's headquarters, the Crows did not actually want a major full-scale war that drew on all of the Empire's strength.

Duke Oun himself would not be free to move. For now, Duke Oun and his close associates controlled headquarters. But if enough chaos swept the continent for the Empire to decide on a full-scale war, Duke Oun, unable to leave the western Dark Front, would naturally become isolated, and real control of headquarters would pass to his eldest son.

That was not the only reason the Crows did not want a full-scale war.

The Crows had already filled their bellies. An army was maintained even in peaceful times. No, power had to be held tightly precisely to preserve peace.

But if a full-scale war broke out? War burned through both sides' storehouses. To refill emptied storehouses, one had to win the war, yet victory did not make those storehouses fuller than before. The difficult part of war was not fighting it, but ending it and cleaning up afterward.

That was why the Crows could not help but irritate the Empire. Still, the Crows had too tight a grip on the military industry to simply cut them off. If the Empire cut them loose and the Crows attached themselves to another kingdom, it would create an even greater threat. So the Empire had no choice but to keep feeding the Crows.

Besides the Crows' cooperation, the foundation of the Imperial Army was the knight orders of the Empire's nobles.

Over its thousand-year history, the Empire of Grandika had gathered countless noble houses under its banner. Those nobles ruled their own territories and maintained their own knight orders. If the Empire declared war, the nobles called up their knights and sent them to join the Imperial Army as part of their duty of loyalty to the Emperor.

The number of knights called up this way was enormous. As the oldest and largest empire on the continent, the scale of knight orders the Empire could mobilize was beyond comparison with any other kingdom. In some cases, an entire knight order belonging to a small kingdom could not match even one knight order led by an Imperial high noble.

The Empire's regular knight orders commanded the noble knight orders mobilized this way. The Empire itself also maintained more knight orders than any other power on the continent. From the Imperial Guard Knights directly under the imperial family, to the frontier knight orders dispatched across the provinces, to the regular knight orders defending the capital.

The one exception in the Empire's military power was Alastor, the Grand Ducal house.

The peak of the continent's Three Great Martial Families, and the Family of Light that had ended the Dark Age five hundred years ago. Though Alastor belonged to the Empire, it stood one step apart from the Empire's chain of command.

The Emperor could not issue a conscription order to the knight orders maintained by Alastor. Even the Emperor sent Alastor a request, not an order.

Alastor was the family that had allowed the Empire to remain an empire to this day, its strongest pillar. Unlike the Empire's relationship with other nobles, its relationship with Alastor was closer to an alliance built on mutual respect than one of command and obedience.

‘The Empire can't possibly like that. The Crows are a corporation with branches across the continent, but Alastor is the Empire's Grand Ducal house.’

What if a family the Empire could not control joined hands with the Sword Church, which was even less controllable? A union of powers outside the Empire's control. It was not hard to understand why the Emperor had taken note of this journey and sent both the Crown Prince and the Grand General.

For the Empire's dignity, the Emperor had conveyed his desire for “dialogue.” Even if the Sword Church Master ignored him, the Emperor would not go so far as to decide to subjugate the Sword Church. The Sword Church had fewer followers than the Imperial Army, that was true, but it had Helenas, the continent's greatest swordswoman, as well as seven Apostles said to be comparable to the Ten Peaks.

If the Sword Church Master ignored the Emperor's “dialogue,” though, Alastor would be unable to join hands with the Sword Church. No matter how close the relationship between the Empire and Alastor was to an alliance, Alastor was still the Empire's Grand Ducal house.

‘The Sword Church may be beyond control, but it is still within imperial territory. Even the Emperor can't order Alastor to keep away from the Sword Church without cause.’

In that sense, the current pretext was excellent. Elves were stubborn. They neither sought the understanding of those around them nor considered profit and loss. The Helenas of old would have done as she pleased without caring about the Empire's dignity or the Emperor's pride.

Normally, that was.

“...”

The Empire's Grand General.

Desmond Galein narrowed his eyes as he stroked his spear. He had no intention of rebuking that boy for disrespect, even though he freely called the Crown Prince “big brother” under the excuse of their brotherly relationship.

He had heard that the Crown Prince himself had suggested they address one another that way at the previous imperial party. The boy was the youngest recipient of the Martial Star Medal in Imperial history and the most likely future Family Head of Alastor.

Assuming nothing unusual happened, the Crown Prince would one day become Emperor. Desmond could understand why he wanted to grow close to someone likely to inherit the position of Grand Duke. The Crown Prince had, in his own way, dominated the social circles of young foreign royals and high nobles. He must have thought he could handle a fifteen-year-old boy from a Martial family.

“Big Brother Alero, have you been well? This is the first time I've seen you since the Imperial Palace party.”

“K-Kyle... little brother. I've been well.”

Rather than handling Kyle, though, he was being grabbed and shaken around instead. Alero smiled awkwardly and held out his hand to Kyle. He meant to shake hands, but Kyle strode over and pulled Alero into a tight embrace.

“Oh, it looks like you've put on some muscle since the last time I saw you. Did you take it to heart when I said you looked weak?”

“H-Haha, I did take it a little to heart. I thought I hadn't neglected my training, but... I never imagined I'd hear something like that to my face... Ghh...!”

Squeeze.

Kyle gave Alero a light squeeze with both arms as he hugged him, and Alero sucked in a breath before barely finishing his sentence. Kyle grinned and let him go.

“Well, it can't be helped. The training a Crown Prince does and the training I do out in the field can't be the same. My standards were just too high, so don't take it too personally.”

“...”

“Hm? Are you going to take that to heart too? Come on, it's just a joke from your much younger little brother. Right?”

“Haha... R-right.”

Alero answered while cold sweat ran down his face. Little brother... yes, Kyle was younger. There was a twelve-year difference between them.

“How is Princess Ludmia? She looked so pale the last time I saw her. I've been worried.”

“Ludmia is... as she always is. She is still not healthy, but she was born that way. What can be done?”

“Don't just save the healthy things for yourself, big brother. Take care of your little sister too.”

“I-I will keep that in mind. But even when we try to care for her, it does not suit Ludmia's body...”

“Then find something that does and give it to her. Right?”

Kyle cut Alero off with a bright smile. Alero barely swallowed the harsh words rising from the bottom of his chest, words unbecoming of a Crown Prince, and forced a smile.

Regret boiled inside him. Why had he ever suggested becoming like brothers with that shameless, absurdly rude bastard? But it was too late to suggest they stop now.

“Ah.”

Kyle's golden eyes moved away from Alero. He cleared his throat, composed his expression, then gave Desmond and Akarion a polite bow.

“My greetings are late. My name is Kyle Alastor.”

Kyle had been outrageously rude to the Crown Prince, yet now he was impeccably polite to Desmond and Akarion. Akarion laughed heartily, rose from his seat, and held out a hand to Kyle.

“It has been a while, Sir Black Sword.”

For the first time since leaving Avens, Kyle heard that damn epithet again. The corner of his mouth twitched as he shook Akarion's hand.

“Don't you have an epithet, Tower Master?”

“The Lastea Tower Master is my epithet.”

Akarion smiled broadly, giving Kyle no opening to strike back.

“And... it is a pleasure to meet you for the first time, Sword Church Master.”

After releasing Kyle's hand, Akarion turned his eyes toward Helenas.

Helenas was only standing silently behind Kyle. She had not greeted anyone or met anyone's gaze. She simply stood there, looking at the back of Kyle's head, not even releasing a trace of her usual presence.

That was because Kyle had cautioned her on the flight here.

If things became tangled, they would not be able to go to Sword Grove together. They would have to part ways immediately. The warning had clearly worked. Helenas wanted no trouble at all, so she simply stood there and did nothing.

“...”

Kyle had not expected her to refuse even to answer. He glanced back at Helenas.

[You can at least introduce yourself.]

“Helenas.”

She answered as soon as he gave the command. Keeping her face expressionless, Helenas stated her name.

‘Strange.’

Still stroking his spear, Desmond watched Kyle quietly. He had made no effort to hide his sighs, but Desmond was the Empire's Grand General.

The Emperor's special order had simply been for him to step forward for the Empire's dignity. That alone was enough for Desmond to guess what the Emperor truly intended in sending him and the Crown Prince.

Why had the Emperor not said it himself? Because the powers involved were too great. Alastor and the Sword Church. Forces that even the master of the Empire could not handle carelessly, forces he had to be cautious even touching. Even if the Emperor's true intention was to pressure Alastor, it could not be stated directly.

Desmond understood his position clearly. The Emperor had no intention of subjugating the Sword Church, and he did not have the slightest expectation that Desmond could defeat the Sword Church Master.

If that had truly been what he wanted, he would have sent not the Lastea Tower Master, who would withdraw if things went wrong, but the captain of the Imperial Guard and the commander of the Mage Corps, both Ten Peaks under the Empire's command. He would have deployed the Imperial Army's finest knight orders by regiment and formed an inescapable net. Yet even then, there would be no certainty of killing the Sword Church Master. The force the Emperor had authorized was only one company of regular knights.

‘His Majesty wants me to lose.’

If the Sword Church Master had refused dialogue and tried to leave, Desmond would have pushed the Crown Prince into issuing an “order” and personally blocked the Sword Church Master's path. If he was lucky, he would lose. If he was unlucky, he would die.

‘What a fucking role.’

Desmond swallowed the sigh rising in his throat. A soldier could not disobey orders, and Desmond was the Empire's Grand General. Was the Emperor truly sending the Empire's Grand General to his death over something as trivial as dignity? It meant the Emperor was that wary of the relationship between Alastor and the Sword Church. And if the Grand General died for the Empire's dignity, it would give the Emperor even greater grounds to pressure Alastor.

‘The Sword Church Master is an elf. An elf bound by fate, one who has never responded even once despite the Empire extending its hand for centuries. It is strange enough that such an elf is on the move... but now she has even agreed to dialogue and come here.’

Why? There was no need to think about it. Desmond watched Kyle silently. The Sword Church Master had left Sword Grove and gone to Gladiheim to meet that boy. She had gone to Avens for that boy this time as well, and crossed imperial territory with him over three months.

And surely, the reason the Sword Church Master had accepted dialogue and come here was that boy too. Was it the Sword Church Master's own decision, or was it a request from the boy? Even Desmond could not guess that much.

Either way, it was not what the Emperor wanted.

‘The Emperor is the master of the Empire, but he is not the Empire itself.’

It was not good for the Empire if the Sword Church Master, who had trampled on the Empire's dignity, grew close to Alastor.

But agreeing to dialogue and coming here meant the Sword Church Master had decided to uphold the Empire's dignity. If that was the case, Alastor's relationship with the Sword Church would pose no problem for the Empire. It would even be fortunate. Regardless of the truth, the Imperial propaganda bureau could dress up that relationship for the Empire's benefit.

“My name is Kyle Alastor.”

Kyle approached Desmond, who had remained silent. Desmond's long black hair hung in seaweed-like waves. He was a head taller than Kyle, yet gaunt, with deep shadows beneath his eyes that made him seem gloomy as a whole.

But the Empire's Grand General was the highest-ranking military commander, the one who commanded all its forces. Along with the captain of the Imperial Guard and the commander of the Mage Corps, he was one of the Ten Peaks directly under the imperial family.

The name Ten Peaks itself might have been created by the Empire's propaganda bureau. Still, having seen Desmond in person, Kyle felt he was undoubtedly a martial artist worthy of the Ten Peaks.

“This is our first meeting, but I have heard much of your reputation.”

Desmond set the spear he had been stroking upright against the table and held out his hand to Kyle. His bony, knobby hand closed around Kyle's.

“I heard Alastor found peace again thanks to you, Sir. As a knight who admires Grand Duke Julius, I would first like to thank you for easing the Grand Duke's grief.”

“I only did my duty as a grandson.”

“And one more thing. Thanks to you, I will not die today. I would like to thank you for that as well.”

Kyle's eyes narrowed at the words that followed, while Alero made a choking sound as if he had swallowed wrong.

“I do not quite understand what you mean, Grand General.”

“You cannot be saying that because you truly do not know. This may be my first time meeting you, Sir, but you seem very clever.”

Kyle glanced down at the hand clasped with Desmond's.

When he had hugged Alero earlier, the threads he had seen at the Imperial Palace were nowhere to be found.

‘It seems those holy arts only apply within the Imperial Palace.’

Kyle was holding Desmond's hand now, yet he saw no threads on him either. He found that disappointing.

Desmond's complexion was as pale as a sick man's, and the shadows beneath his eyes were so dark that Kyle had wondered if the Emperor might be draining something from him too. But for now, he could not confirm it.

“Did you come here prepared to die, Grand General?”

If he had been a few years younger, he could have widened his eyes like before, pretended to know nothing, and asked the question with feigned innocence. But Kyle was sixteen now.

He was old enough to know what he knew. At this age, he could no longer pretend to be innocent.

“Not prepared, exactly. My wish is for a long and healthy life.”

Desmond released Kyle's hand and pointed at his own face with a gaunt finger.

“And I am a general.”

“...Pardon?”

“Was that joke too sophisticated for you to understand? If Grand Duke Julius had heard it, he would have had to clutch his stomach to keep his belly button from popping off.”

Desmond spoke with the same deadpan expression and glanced at Helenas.

Naturally, Helenas's face remained expressionless. Desmond quickly gave up hope and turned to Akarion. Akarion wore a deeply awkward expression as he opened his mouth.

“So... Sir Kyle. This is... a kind of wordplay. The meanings are different, but the pronunciation is the same, you see? A long life, and a general. Um... if I understood correctly, I believe that is how it works...”

“I was not looking at you because I wanted an explanation of the joke. That kind of explanation only embarrasses the person who made it.”

Desmond did not look embarrassed in the slightest, but that was what he said.

“While I was traveling here under His Majesty's orders, and ever since I arrived, I have thought nothing but, this is fucking awful. I feel like retiring.”

“Will you retire when you return?”

“I cannot. I have a family to support.”

“Ah, you have family. Are your children also military officers?”

“No, I am unmarried. But I keep many pets. I like animals.”

What the hell was this guy doing? Kyle's eyes wavered at the impossible-to-follow conversation.

“Dogs are my favorite animals. Dogs are very loyal, are they not? Train them properly, and they can do many things for their master. Even if you scold them too harshly sometimes, before long they will wag their tails again, blinking their eyes at you.”

Desmond dropped heavily into his seat.

“The dogs I raise are very cute, but I am not particularly cute.”

“...What?”

“Isn't it simple and obvious? I mean that I am the Empire's dog. Though my master has issued a harsh order, I cannot storm out of the house. I must protect the house.”

Kyle had thought it was an impossible-to-follow conversation, but the flow of it was strangely becoming clear. He composed his expression and stared at Desmond.

‘The Empire's dog.’

He had not said the Emperor's dog.

Footnotes:

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