WeTried Translations
Translator: Hydrogen B
Editor: Hydrogen B
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 203: Back to the Starting Point (2)
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“Did you come all the way here looking for me? It isn’t even past lunchtime yet.”
Kyle spoke first as he watched Hermann come up the hill. Hermann glanced at the bottle placed before the gravestone.
“I was worried because you keep going out on your own.”
“I was going to return when the time came.”
“Even so, you are now the king of a nation. Shouldn’t you be more careful? A king must walk with weight in his step, Your Majesty.”
Hermann spoke in a more respectful tone than usual. His manner was the same. Like Rowen, Hermann had an easygoing personality, but that did not mean he lacked etiquette. Hagenwald, like House Haska, was an old and prestigious northern house. If he wished, Hermann could show Kyle, who had ascended the throne of Hailen, as much deference as he pleased.
“It gives me the chills, so don’t call me that in private too. Walter does the same. Everyone is so busy teasing me whenever they get the chance.”
To Kyle, it all felt like insincere playacting. He frowned without realizing it. Seeing how genuinely bothered he was, Walter gave a quiet chuckle.
“Hmm. Should I stop?”
“Yes. Please stop. I’m starting to get sick of it.”
“Is that an order from the king, or a request from an old comrade?”
“Both.”
“If you’re begging that much, I have no choice.”
Hermann curled his lips in a teasing smile. Kyle barely managed to swallow a sigh.
“So, why did you come here?”
“The weather is nice, and I had some free time. I came out to get some air.”
It was not exactly a lie. Unlike the harsh winter, the northern air had grown quite warm by mid-April. Unless one went beyond the boundary and behind the Caldra Mountains, Baldheim was fairly mild compared to those areas. At least, it was when compared to the unexplored far north.
“What about you, Kyle?”
“I just came out to clear my head. Things have been complicated lately.”
“That makes sense. You have more than enough on your mind.”
Whoosh.
The wind blew. Air drifting in from afar passed Kyle and Hermann, sweeping over the sparse fields below the hill. The familiar sound of waves gently brushed against their ears. It was no different from the memory of that day.
“You brought alcohol. There’s already some here.”
Kyle nodded toward the bottle before the gravestone. Hermann held a bottle of fine wine he had bought in the market district before leaving the city.
“I’ll offer another bottle. His Highness Yurian would like that too.”
“True. Yurian could hold his liquor. Unlike the other members, he didn’t actively enjoy drinking, though.”
“It brings back memories.”
The two stood side by side, looking at the gravestone bearing Yurian’s name. It was a grave containing only a few personal belongings, almost no more than odds and ends, with no proper remains. Unlike the graves of the other members, Yurian’s stood alone on this hill.
The reason was simple. They thought Yurian would prefer it here. This hill outside the city, where Baldheim could be seen at a glance, was familiar to Kyle, Rowen, Yurian, and Cecilia alike. It was especially precious to Kyle beyond words. All his memories had begun here and ended here.
A place where winds with different scents blew each season.
Where the scenery changed at regular intervals every few months.
Where memories of the past sometimes echoed like hallucinations.
“That tree too. If not for the war, it would have started sprouting new leaves about now.”
Kyle looked at the base of a tree some distance from the gravestone. The old tree that had provided cool shade every summer had been reduced to a stump by the Northern War.
“If only I’d been stronger...”
Whenever he recalled the past, he always thought about it. Perhaps there had been a way to save even one more person. Looking back, he had been young, inexperienced, and made many mistakes.
But none of that mattered now. The past could not be turned back. Not even with Prisia’s mana dwelling within him.
“Enough blaming yourself. Let’s offer him a drink.”
They stood silently before the gravestone for some time. Then Hermann effortlessly pulled the cork from the bottle in his right hand with nothing but his grip strength.
“Are you going to do it yourself?”
“...No.”
“Then I will. We’ll leave one bottle unopened.”
Leaving the bottle Kyle had brought where it was, Hermann burned the wine cork away with mana. He then slowly tilted the opened bottle before the gravestone, taking care not to splash too much.
Trickle.
Deep red wine seeped into the earth. Kyle stared silently at Yurian’s sword hanging at his waist.
“Come to think of it, Rudolf wants to join the Knights of Ash. Did you know?”
After pouring about half the wine, Hermann drank the rest in one gulp and asked. Rudolf, the knight of House Haska whom they had met at Falken Fortress, had quietly expressed a desire to join the Knights of Ash after traveling with them until Baldheim was recaptured.
“More or less.”
“Rudolf is skilled enough to be sent into battle immediately. Rudolf wouldn’t fall far behind even compared to an Ash Knight in their prime.”
“Will you accept them?”
“I’m not sure. There are several problems with simply letting Rudolf join. We’ve already taken two key knights from House Haska. Taking Rudolf too would be a little much.”
“...”
“What do you think, Kyle?”
Hermann turned to Kyle. Standing atop the hill, Kyle gazed at the faint outline of the Caldra Mountains in the distance and the capital of Baldheim beneath them.
“If Harald is fine with it, then what is the problem?”
He felt sorry for House Haska, but their first priority was restoring the Knights of Ash, even temporarily, after its ranks had been emptied. In fact, knights were being recruited not only from House Haska, but from several houses, including House Rosenberg.
“Do as you see fit. I’m no longer the Commander. You are, Hermann.”
The entire process was voluntary, without coercion. Naturally, there were many applicants, and the competition was fierce.
“Hah... so that’s how you’ll play it?”
Hermann’s lips twitched when Kyle pushed the work onto him. The authority to admit outsiders, rather than squires, into the Knights of Ash rested entirely with the king.
That was different from the Commander, whom the members raised up voluntarily. When a Commander wished to bring in an outside knight, all they could do was recommend them under their own name. In most cases, the king and the Commander of the Knights of Ash agreed, so there was no issue. But there were occasional exceptions.
Kyle, who had come to the north more than ten years ago, was one such case.
“If we accept Rudolf too, we’ll have at least the minimum number of members, won’t we?”
“That’s true. Around twenty people would give us the bare minimum. We could recruit more, but there are minimum qualifications for an Ash Knight.”
“I’m more worried about the people of Baldheim. No, everyone living in the north.”
“Is that why you accepted the lords who had been watching from the sidelines without taking any action?”
Kyle did not answer. He remained silent.
But Hermann knew. That brief silence was no different from an affirmation.
Not long ago, letters pledging loyalty to Kyle had arrived from all across the north. It had been immediately after word spread that Duke Ehrenfeld had died and Kyle, the only heir to the royal family, had recaptured Baldheim. Those who had cowered in fear of harm coming to their houses had bowed their heads faster than anyone once the outcome of the civil war was half decided.
It was a truly batlike way to conduct themselves, but Kyle did not punish them. Instead, he accepted them generously.
“If it were up to me, I’d strike down not only the traitors, but even those who stood behind and watched.”
“...”
“But we don’t have the time or the leeway for that. More than anything, I don’t want to kill fellow Northerners.”
Kyle sincerely believed that. Oswin, who also served as chancellor, had advised the same. Sometimes, mercy was better than unconditional oppression.
“There is still a war with the Empire ahead of us. There’s no need to cut away our own flesh before it has even begun.”
Besides the houses of royal loyalists and neutral lords who had joined Kyle, there were many other noble houses in the north. The land was simply too vast for its population. If Kyle made enemies of them all, they would band together. He could not let personal feelings ruin everything.
“In the end, Duke Ehrenfeld’s remaining forces are the problem.”
“Yes. Still, they will not be a major problem. More than half the north has come over to our side, and Duke Ehrenfeld, their central figure, is dead. We have also absorbed the Duke’s three thousand private soldiers in Baldheim, excluding the knights and mages.”
“It would be ideal if they split apart on their own...”
Hermann muttered quietly. If Duke Ehrenfeld had spoken truthfully, the forces that had defected numbered a little over ten thousand when all the houses under him were included. Excluding the three thousand private soldiers stationed in Baldheim, around seven thousand remained.
Kyle now held the advantage in strength, but it was still not a number they could take lightly.
“First, we need to learn what they are doing. It will not be too late to act afterward. We are not the ones in a hurry.”
Hermann offered no objection and spoke calmly.
“We must prepare thoroughly.”
Kyle silently nodded. Once the civil war was completely over, they would join with the Federation and strike the Empire. There were also many other forces that had cooperated with the Empire.
It would take much time and blood to deal with every last one of them.
After standing in silence before Yurian’s grave for a long time, the two finally turned away. Kyle stopped just as he was about to walk down the hill.
“Your Majesty! Commander!”
Someone was hurrying up the hill road connected to Baldheim’s southern gate. The person shouting loudly was none other than Walter. Having taken over the vacant position of Deputy Commander, he did not look well.
Pant. Pant.
Standing before Kyle and Hermann, Walter took a moment to catch his breath. Once his breathing had settled somewhat, Hermann asked with a serious expression.
“Walter. What is it?”
“A reply has arrived.”
“A reply?”
Hermann frowned. Walter looked between Kyle and Hermann before speaking in a subdued voice.
“Yes. Duke Ehrenfeld’s heir has personally sent a reply to Your Majesty. A messenger hawk arrived just now, and the Count of the Royal Court of Ingrahim told me to bring word immediately...”
* * *
The enormous conference room in the royal palace of the capital was filled with every high-ranking noble residing in the city. Ordinarily, the room would have done nothing but gather dust.
“It has been a long time since we gathered like this. Though some have returned home.”
Duke Rosenberg spoke from his seat directly below the highest seat. The hastily convened meeting called by the king was filled with familiar faces. Most had participated in the recapture of Baldheim.
Count Haska and the Count of the Royal Court of Ingrahim, who had been inspecting storehouses with Duke Rosenberg until noon, were present. Several high-ranking nobles and Ash Knights were gathered as well.
However, not everyone had come. Since the recapture of Baldheim, many lords had returned to their own castles. Those present had either entrusted their territories to heirs or representatives, or had already been based in the capital.
“What on earth is happening?”
“For His Majesty to summon the ministers in such a hurry...”
“Could there have been a rebellion somewhere?”
“Not everyone in the north supports His Majesty’s accession.”
“Surely those bastards...”
Whispers rose from all sides. Then the firmly closed doors of the conference room suddenly swung open.
Beyond them stood Kyle, dressed much as he had been during his mercenary days. The only difference was the sword at his waist. Directly behind him stood Hermann, now the Commander of the Knights of Ash, and Walter, the Deputy Commander, as though guarding him.
At the sight, the lords all rose from their seats.
“Your Majesty.”
“You have arrived.”
The lords bowed deeply. Kyle glanced over them once, then headed for the vacant high seat.
“Count of the Royal Court of Ingrahim.”
As the lords raised their heads and Hermann and Walter took their seats, Kyle spoke. Like in the audience chamber, Oswin sat to Duke Rosenberg’s left and answered respectfully.
“Yes, Your Majesty. Please speak.”
“Is the report I received accurate?”
“It is.”
“When did it arrive?”
“Around noon. Please see for yourself.”
Seeing it once was better than hearing it a hundred times. Oswin carefully took a slip of paper from his robes and handed it over. Kyle roughly unfolded the paper, which had been folded several times.
[Let the usurper, whose rank and origins are unknown, who killed my father, read this.]
A smile that might have been a hollow laugh or a sneer touched Kyle’s lips as he read the letter’s first sentence. Everyone in the conference room held their breath as they watched him read the note.
In the still silence, Kyle’s eyes moved slowly over the words. They were unnervingly calm, like a hunter staring at prey directly before him.
“W-what happened?”
“They refuse to accept my accession.”
“What?”
“See for yourself.”
Someone voiced their question. Rather than properly answer, Kyle casually tossed the letter onto the long table. Before long, several lords who read it turned pale, while others flushed red with anger.
Kyle spoke calmly so that everyone could hear.
“War. It seems this will be difficult to resolve peacefully.”
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