WeTried Translations
Translator: Hydrogen B
Editor: Hydrogen B
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 172: The Red Banquet (11)
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Godfrey de Servier, Commander of the Chevaliers and the Federation's greatest knight.
His low voice echoed calmly across the terrace. Though Godfrey had openly spoken of his identity, Kyle did not so much as raise an eyebrow. There were only two people on the terrace. Even with mana-enhanced hearing, no one could eavesdrop on the voices outside through the uproar filling the banquet hall.
So he did know. Did he wait until I left the hall on purpose?
Kyle gazed into the banquet hall, awash in the bright light of the chandeliers, then turned back to the sturdy old man before him. Godfrey was still watching him with a complex expression. The chilly early spring night wind swept past them once again.
Godfrey was the first to break the silence.
"It seems you don't care much for places full of pretense like this."
"I can't even remember the last time I attended a party."
"I thought so. You don't seem suited to this sort of thing. It's no easy task, changing masks every time and speaking lies. Politics is a talent one is born with, much like swordsmanship or magic. In that sense, you and I are rather alike."
"......"
"I heard you nearly died. Is your body all right?"
Godfrey cautiously stepped closer. Kyle glanced once at the banquet hall through the glass wall, then turned back toward the outdoor garden. A sigh-laced question escaped his lips.
"Do you know that much?"
"More or less."
Godfrey leaned against the railing beside Kyle. Without looking back at him, Kyle continued.
"It seems the Grand Duke told you quite a bit."
"He had to. Don't worry too much. While we do know you're the Blue Wolf, only His Majesty Armand and I know the other important details."
"So?"
"Then I should thank you. Duke Mortein was unable to push further into the Russel front and was forced to retreat. It was all thanks to you. Thank you. Whatever the outcome, you bought us time to reorganize the front. Though the many fools in there probably don't realize it."
Godfrey shrugged.
Kyle did not respond. He only muttered inwardly.
So he hadn't told him everything?
It was true that Kyle had fought a duel to the death with Cassius Mortein. It was also true that Cassius had been severely wounded by Kyle's personal magic. But Cassius Mortein had not retreated because of Kyle.
He had retreated because of Elysia, the First Princess Kyle had been protecting.
Duke Mortein had likely been given two missions. One was to kill Kyle, and the other was to retrieve Elysia, the traitor. Since Kyle's heart had already been pierced by Mortein's greatsword and his breathing had stopped once, Cassius had most likely captured Elysia and returned directly to Archandia, the capital of his homeland.
Adrian knew that as well, but he seemed to have deliberately kept it secret. Anything concerning Elysia, the niece he cherished, could become a weakness someday.
To gain the upper hand in a negotiation, one had to hide as many cards as possible.
Did he credit me with Cassius Mortein's retreat and keep the matter of Elysia secret, all to conceal that his desire for war with the Empire was not solely for the greater cause, but also for his niece?
"You survived remarkably well. Honestly, I was surprised."
"By what?"
"That you survived after facing Cassius Mortein. And that the Blue Wolf, who was surrounded by nothing but rumors, is far younger than I expected."
Godfrey chuckled and pulled a cigar from inside his coat.
"Do you mind if I smoke?"
"Do as you wish."
"Thank you."
The old knight put a cigar thicker than his own finger between his lips. He brought his faintly blue-glowing index finger to its tip. With a crackle, it caught fire, and white smoke soon billowed up.
Godfrey stared blankly at the smoke as it scattered over the garden beyond the terrace.
Once. Twice. Three times.
He took deep breaths again and again. White smoke swayed like waves with every inhale and exhale. Formless sighs slipped from between his silently moving lips.
After holding the cigar for some time and staring blankly up at the sky, Godfrey finally spoke.
"If I ever met the Blue Wolf, there was something I wanted to say."
"What is it?"
"I'm sorry."
Kyle, who had been leaning against the railing and looking at the garden, turned his head.
The old knight had lowered his head deeply without looking back at Kyle.
"I'm truly sorry. It was all my fault. Hailen's fall. And you suffering at the hands of Cassius Mortein."
"Why... are you saying that to me now?"
"Because I failed to stop the opposition to dispatching troops to Hailen."
His eyes darkened with regret.
Only then did Kyle understand why Godfrey had looked at him not only with curiosity, but also with pity and guilt. Why he had personally come out to the terrace as though he had been waiting for Kyle.
"In truth, the Federation's division did not begin recently. It started much earlier than people think. No, it has been this way for a very long time."
Godfrey continued in an even voice through the smoke of the burning cigar.
"Perhaps it was inevitable. It was never a unified country to begin with."
The Federation was a vast alliance formed by five nations. From the very beginning, it was vastly different from the Empire, a single nation united under the Emperor's absolute authority. The High Council, which had begun as a gathering of five kings, ostensibly reflected the majority's opinion. Yet because of that, it often failed to function properly when it was truly needed.
"Is that why you led this? To remove everyone sympathetic to the Empire?"
After listening in silence for a while, Kyle asked.
Godfrey nodded heavily.
"It was something that should have been done long ago."
"Because Russel and Selaine are no different from the Empire's lackeys?"
"That isn't the cause, only the result. This operation isn't an impulsive decision. It's an old wish I have held for a very long time. I kept putting it off, justifying myself over and over, and only made up my mind after the Empire invaded."
It was something that should have been done long ago. Russel and Selaine had not become little more than collaborators of the Empire overnight. It was the result of the Empire's scheme to slowly erode the Federation from within over hundreds of years.
"When the Empire was invading Hailen in full force, there was much debate within the Federation over dispatching troops."
Naturally, even such an obvious matter led to division. The moment Hailen, with its history of over a thousand years, fell, the balance of the continent would collapse. It was only too clear that the Federation would be the next target after Hailen's fall. For the Federation's own sake, they should have sent troops to ensure the north did not perish.
"But in the end, support for the north was voted down."
Godfrey muttered bitterly and turned to Kyle. Eyes far too sharp for his age stared directly at him.
"Do you know why?"
"Because Russel and Selaine opposed it."
"No. It was because humans are creatures of forgetfulness. We forgot the histories of nations swallowed by the Empire, nations whose identities disappeared without leaving even a trace. It was also because of our arrogance and delusion that we were different. The baseless certainty that the Federation was different from such small nations, that the Empire would never dare invade the Federation, destroyed Hailen and put the Federation in danger."
At the time, the Council was made up of five people, without a Grand Duke. When the proposal to dispatch troops to Hailen was brought forward, there were two votes in favor and two against, leaving only one person's decision. Then Felbric Chergar, the chairman, declared neutrality. Since a majority vote was required for the proposal to pass, the dispatch to Hailen was rejected just like that.
"I regretted it for a long time. If I had not hesitated. If I had not justified myself like a coward and replaced the Council long ago. Hailen would never have fallen."
"It was not your fault."
"Perhaps not. But when mistakes are repeated, not once but several times, there is no excuse left. So this time, I will not hesitate. Never again."
Godfrey spoke with conviction.
By then, the cigar between the thick fingers of his right hand had burned down by more than half. Black ash, burned away by mana without leaving a single ember, drifted down in flecks beyond the terrace.
"You said you would go north when everything is over."
"......"
"Are you truly going?"
Godfrey asked, unable to hide his regret.
Kyle did not answer immediately.
The reconstruction of the north.
It would not be easy. Countless harsh trials surely awaited them. That was why the Grand Duke had offered to establish a knight order under the Council, made up of members of the Knights of Ash, if Kyle wanted one. It would belong to the Federation, but have almost no obligations.
Kyle, Hermann, and Walter had refused. There was only one reason.
Rebuilding Hailen was a destiny they had to fulfill.
It would be easier to fight under the new Council, but Kyle could not bring himself to choose that path. For the sake of those who had died, he had to go north.
To my second home.
"I see."
"......"
"I will respect your decision. The reconstruction of the north is something the Federation would welcome as well. I will head inside first, so take your time coming back."
Godfrey did not force him. With those final words, he burned the cigar in his hand completely with blue flames and turned away without lingering.
The large old knight's back gradually receded into the distance.
Is it almost time?
After watching Godfrey disappear into the banquet hall, Kyle looked at the outdoor garden one last time. As the night deepened, the moon rose brightly overhead. The noise of the banquet hall and the silence of the garden slowly blended together.
Kyle watched the sight for a while before leaving the terrace.
* * *
The air changed sharply the moment he returned to the banquet hall after getting some fresh air outside.
So did the dark mood.
No one was chatting leisurely as they had before. The tables laden with food that had been scattered around the room had all been pushed to either side of the hall. In the empty center, the sharp clang of metal rang out again and again.
"Impressive..."
"Was that Sir Elio? I've never heard the name before, but the skill is extraordinary. A knight that good couldn't possibly be unknown."
"That knight is young, too. The future is bright."
"Could Russel have secretly trained a knight like that in the royal court?"
"Even if that knight isn't a Council Knight, I can't believe a knight from Valone is being pushed back so badly."
Voices rose from all around.
Kyle spotted the Grand Duke standing alone in a corner of the hall and headed toward him. Hundreds of spectators stared fixedly at the two knights sparring in the middle of the room. They wielded real swords that had seemingly appeared from nowhere. The duel with live blades, neither knight wearing armor, further stirred the crowd's excitement.
"You're back?"
Adrian watched the spar with narrowed eyes and spoke without turning toward Kyle.
"What is this?"
"It is exactly what it looks like."
"What it looks like?"
"They've resorted to a cheap trick. Over there."
Adrian nodded toward the opposite side.
Kyle followed his gaze from the center of the banquet hall to its edge.
There stood the moderate nobles, their faces full of smiles. Philip, King of Russel, and Sebastian, King of Selaine, were no exception. Holding glasses of wine, they watched the spar at ease, showing no sign of tension.
In contrast, the hardline nobles standing well apart from the moderates did not look pleased. It was only natural, as the knight representing them was being pushed back helplessly. The powerful nobles who had greeted Kyle earlier, along with Armand and Albert, the kings of Valone and Rustin, wore displeased expressions. Only Godfrey, who had returned before Kyle, gave a hollow laugh as though he found the situation absurd.
"Could you not stop it?"
Kyle frowned and whispered into Adrian's ear.
"Look at the mood in here. It's a friendly match in name. How could I stop it?"
As Adrian said, the hall was far more heated than before. None of the gloomy atmosphere left by the war remained. The nobles who had proclaimed themselves neutral were especially fervent. Their eyes gleamed as though they were watching an exciting spectacle.
"Spars between knights are common at parties like this. The timing is simply poor. Even those two kings likely didn't expect Russel's knight to be this skilled. We have been dealt quite a blow."
"What happened with what I told you about earlier?"
"Not good. I found the Archbishop and sounded them out discreetly, but they did not budge. This may become more troublesome than expected. If a little over half of those attending this banquet are collaborators planted by the Empire..."
Before Adrian could finish, the Valone knight's sword flew helplessly into the air after dozens of exchanges punctuated by sharp clangs.
Thud!
The sword spun through the air several times before embedding itself shallowly in the banquet hall floor. Exclamations of admiration for the Russel knight and sighs for the defeated Valone knight rose from every side.
The defeated knight's face reddened.
After taking a light breath, the knight from Russel smiled faintly.
"Good work. You were quite skilled."
"Ah..."
"Is there anyone else who would like to step forward?"
The Russel knight looked around.
No knight came forward.
"Valone is said to be the nation of knights, yet today it seems rather lacking in substance."
Hahaha!
Loud laughter burst from the crowd at the half-joke. The moderate nobles, neutral nobles and merchants watching the spectacle, and even the church's priests laughed quietly.
"His Majesty Armand has taken quite a hit."
"With skill like that, that knight could easily stand alongside a Council Knight."
"That knight doesn't even look thirty... Russel has been secretly raising a tiger."
"But they have the Chevaliers, do they not?"
"Though the Council Knights' headquarters is in Valone, they ostensibly belong to the Council. It means they are not subordinate to any one country. Sending out the Chevaliers here would be the same as admitting defeat. Do you think they would dare?"
The atmosphere within the banquet hall tilted toward one side. Not toward the defeated knight of Valone, but toward the Russel knight, who had won one victory after another.
"Ah, come to think of it, I heard the Grand Duke's knights are exceptionally skilled..."
The young knight from Russel suddenly turned toward Kyle and Adrian.
In an instant, every eye in the hall focused on the two of them. As hundreds of gazes fell upon Kyle, the Russel knight smiled brilliantly.
"How about it? Would you like to come forward?"
Footnotes:
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