WeTried Translations
Translator: Hydrogen B
Editor: Hydrogen B
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 194: The King's Return (3)
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The old man said nothing, even as the Duke stared at him intently. His indifferent eyes looked as though he had resigned himself to life and abandoned all hope.
Oswin Ingrahim. The academic tutor of the late Crown Prince Yurian, and the power behind the central nobility who had overseen Hailen's affairs. As the true second-in-command of the royal palace, he had been called Hailen's sage.
A country could not be ruled through oppression alone. Violence and fear were only one aspect of politics. That was why Duke Ehrenfeld had worked tirelessly for the past four years to win over the Count of the Royal Court of Ingrahim. He had calculated that Oswin's prestige would greatly help bolster his own lacking legitimacy.
He had been mistaken.
The old man had not wavered before any sweet words, gold, or treasures. He had merely chosen to keep silent and withdraw into himself. Even the fear of death posed no great threat to him.
Thus, for four years, Duke Ehrenfeld had neither killed Oswin nor brought him to his side, instead keeping him confined within the royal palace. Killing him risked repercussions, while releasing him meant not knowing what he might do. The old man had lived quietly without much reaction, so the Duke had assumed he would continue to do so.
Until Hailen's rightful heir returned and issued a summons.
“Do you still need more time?”
A voice faintly tinged with anger rang clearly through the room. Sharp eyes seemed poised to pierce the old man's entire body.
“Will you choose me, or side with that bastard?”
Even then, Oswin Ingrahim gave no reply. Duke Ehrenfeld's eyes narrowed as he watched him. His lifeless appearance and resigned attitude were much the same as before, but his gaze had changed slightly. A trace of intelligence had returned to the eyes visible beneath his sunken shadows.
“You dream in vain, Duke Ehrenfeld.”
The old man, silent for some time, finally spoke. His aged voice made the Duke's brow crease.
“A vain dream?”
“What you desire will not come to pass. No matter what means you use.”
“Why?”
“For over a thousand years, the north has had only one master.”
“I am a northerner as well. That bastard, meanwhile, is an outsider of unknown origins who came from the Empire. And you would throw away your life over the name Baldrick, which was not even formally bestowed upon him, but barely conferred through abbreviated formalities? Have you forgotten that my forces are overwhelmingly superior?”
His voice grew louder with every word. Unable to endure any longer, the Duke hurled a glass bottle from atop his desk.
Crash!
A sharp sound rang out. Shattered glass scattered widely in every direction. Yet the old man did not so much as twitch an eyebrow. That calm demeanor grated on the Duke's nerves.
“I did not sell out Hailen! I saved the north!”
Duke Ehrenfeld shouted thunderously.
“When Hailen was dying, what did the royal family and the Knights of Ash do?”
Nothing. More precisely, they could do nothing. The Empire's national power had been overwhelming, and despite its thousand-year history, Hailen had ultimately been unable to prevail. Crown Prince Yurian, the lawful heir, had died during the battle for the capital. Kyle, the last Commander of the Knights of Ash, had disappeared entirely, his whereabouts unknown.
“It was already decided. No one could have changed it!”
Duke Ehrenfeld continued.
“Traitor? Turncoat who abandoned his homeland? That's the bullshit of fools who know one thing and nothing else! Then what, were we all supposed to die there? Was it right to throw away our lives following a royal family and knight order that could not even protect their own country, all to preserve hollow honor?”
Even if it had not been Duke Ehrenfeld, someone would have taken up the regency of the north in place of the vanished royal family.
The Duke had simply been given the opportunity, and rather than dying together, he had chosen to survive, even if it meant humiliation. Before that, he had moved his forces reluctantly to protect himself, willingly cooperated with the Empire, and paid them enormous tribute every year. It could not be helped. Otherwise, Hailen would have become a sea of blood, left behind as a city of death.
“It seems that bastard's return to the north has given you quite a boost.”
After delivering his impassioned speech and catching his breath, the Duke approached Oswin.
“I am not afraid.”
He stopped before Oswin and drew his lips into a long smile.
“I simply do not wish to spill blood irresponsibly. Aside from that bastard, we are all northerners. How can members of the same family turn their blades on one another?”
But if that bastard remained hardline. If one side had no choice but to yield.
“Then one of us must die.”
Duke Ehrenfeld, who had been staring directly into Oswin's eyes, stepped back. Oswin continued to gaze at him, but the Duke showed little reaction. With a faint scoff, he turned and returned to the window.
Oswin watched his back before finally speaking again.
“What the Empire wants is...”
“I know. They want us to destroy each other, leaving the north half ruined. So what?”
The Duke cut Oswin off.
“I will never give up. If necessary, I will gladly play the Empire's clown.”
“...”
“If that bastard does not back down, I need only kill them all. Even if he somehow defeats me and restores Hailen, there will be no future for him. He will have to live as the Empire's slave forever.”
“Do you truly think that is possible?”
“You think I cannot do it?”
Duke Ehrenfeld had staked everything on this battle. Kyle, meanwhile, had much to do beyond a civil war.
Because his greatest enemy was the Elandor Empire. He was unlike Duke Ehrenfeld, who had submitted to the Emperor. The Duke understood that clearly. That was why he would not retreat. The more both sides suffered, the more the Duke would benefit, not Kyle. He could sacrifice his own troops just as readily as Kyle's.
“You are not in your right mind. Duke, you...”
Oswin looked at the Duke with contempt in his eyes. The Duke glanced back and curled his lip mockingly at the old man.
“There is only one way for everyone to survive.”
He spoke as though making a declaration.
“Proclaim me the new king of the north.”
“...”
“You as well, Oswin Ingrahim. The hundred thousand citizens of Baldheim. Those defeated Ash Knights who could not even fulfill their duties. Accept me as the king of a new age. Then I will promise Kyle Baldrick his former post as Commander. The same goes for the other lords and knights. It is the only path by which everyone can live without shedding blood.”
“Do you truly believe you can defeat the Commander of the Knights of Ash?”
“How many times must I say it? My forces are far greater.”
This time, Oswin looked at the Duke with pity. Even so, the Duke remained utterly confident.
“There is no need to fight head-on. Baldheim's walls stand over twenty meters high. Its gate is made of a single solid piece of Lunarium, and even a knight's Sword Aura cannot break through it. We have more than enough food stored away. By now, the lords under my command will be moving. When that bastard surrounds the capital, we need only encircle him instead.”
“...”
“My side has ten thousand men. More lords than expected may have answered his summons, but that does not change the fact that our forces outnumber theirs by more than three to one. Do you think it will make a difference if a few neutral lords from the central region join him? With that body of his, cursed and unable to use even a shred of mana?”
“The Commander...”
“Yes, he is a born genius. I know well that the green boy possesses the greatest talent in the history of the Knights of Ash.”
But.
The Duke, who had been looking out the window, turned around.
“Tactical victory and strategic victory are different. If that bastard does not yield, I will wipe out all the royal loyalists, even if it means killing every soldier and knight under my command.”
Those with something to lose and those with nothing to lose thought differently from the start.
If they destroyed each other. If the north lost its future.
“Do not misunderstand, Count of the Royal Court of Ingrahim.”
The Duke approached once more from the window. He raised a finger and poked the old man in the chest several times.
“The choice is mine. I am being merciful.”
“...”
“Go and write a letter. Tell him to kneel before me. If he does, everyone can survive.”
* * *
After gathering the loyalist faction and some of the neutral lords, Kyle immediately headed north toward Baldheim that very day. Having issued a summons across the entire north, he had no time to delay.
His total force numbered three thousand. They pressed on without rest despite the weather, which had yet to improve. They had secured a fair amount of food at Falken Fortress beforehand, so provisions would not be a problem for the time being. All that remained was to gather the central lords and surround the capital, where Duke Ehrenfeld waited.
Fortunately, no one stood in the way of Kyle's army. However, there was no particularly good news either. Every day around sunset, Kyle gathered the lords in the command tent for a brief report and council meeting. Afterward, he ate a quick meal and went to bed early.
And then came the dreams.
“...”
Kyle opened his bleary eyes. The first thing he saw was the tent ceiling.
Faint morning sunlight filtered through the slightly open entrance. The beam crossed the interior and brushed over Kyle's chest. Lying beneath a fur pelt on a makeshift bed of thick rugs, Kyle instinctively raised a hand to shield his eyes.
Damn it. That dream again.
Since his defeat at the hands of Cassius Mortein, Commander of the Celestial Knights, Kyle had not dreamed. Ever since awakening Prisia's mana, he had seen neither memories of the past each night nor the pure white Dragon he believed to be Prisia.
At first, Kyle had found it strange, but he soon stopped caring. He had mountains of work to do and did not want to be caught up in useless thoughts. By the time he had settled the Federation's council, parted ways with Adrian, and returned north, he had nearly forgotten about them.
Yet recently, after gathering the loyalist lords and marching north, the dreams had begun again.
Rowen, Yurian, Cecilia, and the precious people who had been as good as family to Kyle.
The memories he had shared with them. The longing and nostalgia they evoked.
And finally, Elysia.
The more vivid the memories of Cecilia that he had forcibly buried became, the more Elysia surfaced over them. Even before, there had been times when he saw Cecilia superimposed over Elysia's face. Whenever that happened, Kyle deliberately turned away from his own feelings. Nothing had changed now.
Do not get swept away. If I break here, it is all over.
Toppling the Empire, killing the Emperor, and saving Elysia. He could only accomplish all of it by rebuilding Hailen.
After taking several deep breaths, Kyle sat up. He had gone to bed early yesterday, so he was not terribly tired. He put on the clothes he had taken off and fastened Yurian's sword, which had been resting beside his head, at his waist. Once his mind cleared, he finally noticed the commotion outside.
The camp was busier than usual. Kyle frowned, unsure of the reason, when he heard one person's footsteps approaching from nearby. Before long, the entrance flap was lifted and a middle-aged knight entered.
“Kyle.”
“Deputy Commander...”
The one who had entered was Hermann, Deputy Commander of the Knights of Ash. As Kyle unconsciously relaxed, Hermann continued.
“I thought you would be asleep, since you have been sleeping so much lately. Good thing you are awake.”
“Has something happened? It seems rather chaotic outside.”
“The central lords have arrived.”
“The central lords?”
Kyle's fingers twitched as he finished preparing. Yurian's sword hung at Kyle's waist, and his left hand was poised to seize its hilt at any moment.
“How many are there?”
“It will be faster if you see for yourself. Everyone is already outside.”
Hermann said no more. He stepped out of the tent as though telling Kyle to follow.
Kyle followed behind him. Once he cast aside the warm fur pelt and stepped outdoors, the still-cold northern wind swept over his body. Hermann had not lied about the central lords arriving. Unlike the previous evening, the camp was filled with unrest. It was the familiar tension that came just before battle.
“Commander.”
“You have arrived.”
Kyle and Hermann crossed the center of the camp and reached the gathered lords. The Ash Knights, the lords of Haska, Lunbern, Sigreta, and Wolfran, and even the lesser lords all bowed their heads together at the sight of Kyle.
“Are those them?”
“Yes. They appeared only moments ago and have been quietly watching us, as though assessing something.”
Harald, who had approached Kyle's side, answered. Kyle turned his gaze and saw an army spread across a gentle hill in the distance. Even at a glance, the troops looking down at them numbered well over a thousand. Three family crests rose above the soldiers, snapping harshly in the wind.
“What shall we do? Shall we prepare for battle? Or send a messenger first...”
“There is no need. They are coming this way.”
Kyle spoke. The lords and Ash Knights awaiting his orders turned toward where he was looking.
Three men in fine armor were riding down from the hill. Several knights followed behind them. The family banners they carried fluttered in the wind. The clatter of hoofbeats rang clearly across the dry grasslands.
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