Chapter 227

Bishop ‍​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‍Marco the goat beastman’s method was so dizzying it made my head swim.

Good ‍​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍heavens…

To ‍​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍make the nobles pay for the privilege of “requesting friendship,” and cover our expenses with the money squeezed out of them.

Sometimes ‍​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍I honestly wanted to crack open this goat beastman’s skull and take a look inside. What if, instead of a brain, he had a lump of gold in there?

“Wh-what…? ‍​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍Why are you staring like that, looord? Something about it is… scary. Mehr.”

As ‍​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍if he had read my thoughts, Bishop Marco the goat beastman made an uneasy face. Then he began edging backward, step by step. His instincts, at least, seemed remarkably sharp.

“Ahem. It is nothing. I was just thinking how excellent you are.”

“Meheheheh. Really, looord? I am quite excellent, yes. Watch and learn a great deal. Meee.”

“…Yes. Thank you very much.”

As he bleated cheerfully and headed off again to collect payments(?) from the nobles coming forward, I sighed inwardly.

That wretched bastard.

One day he needed to get his comeuppance properly.

“Keuheuheu. He really is consistent.”

“That is exactly why I am bursting at the seams, Magician Agpiel.”

“Oh, why make such a fuss over it? You need someone like that for your stiff relationships to have a bit of amusement.”

“……”

Magician Agpiel laughed heartily, as though my predicament were entertaining.

Better to die than to suffer.

I sighed again and again, shaking my head.

Why were there only people around me who wanted to make a fool of me? What a miserable fate.

“Meee!”

While I was thinking that, Bishop Marco, who had already finished his meeting, came running toward us, grinning and panting.

“Looord. That lord invited us. Meee. How about going and resting properly? Meheheh.”

After taking their money, we were now going to receive that noble’s hospitality as well. I heard he intended to provide a lavish banquet, and I could not help wondering whether it was really acceptable to fleece him this thoroughly.

And yet, when I considered my reputation, I could also imagine that hosting me would become an honor his descendants would boast of for generations. It was… complicated, in more ways than one. Truly complicated.

Living in a world ruled by honor and appearances, that was.

“All right… let us go. If he has prepared it, it is difficult to refuse. Besides, are we not all starting to tire?”

“Meheheh. That is right, Mehr!”

So I said, and we headed to that local noble’s lord’s manor.

---

“CLINK!”

“To the noble Margrave of Bellua, Your Grace!”

“To Your Grace!”

It was no empty boast that he had prepared a grand banquet.

A huge roast goose, barbecued suckling pig, and even dishes smothered in spices said to have been brought from the far East.

This place was, in its way, a wealthy commercial hub in the kingdom’s east, but the aftermath of the war had not even fully faded—yet he was throwing a party of this scale.

I could not help worrying that this single banquet might have pulled out one of the supports holding up that barony.

“Uahahaha! Now, here—take another drink from my cup!”

Of course, Baron Vallon—who ruled a small barony in the kingdom’s east—seemed to have no such worries at all.

He kept pressing wine on me, smiling as brightly as a child.

“Hmm, this is quite a fine drink. It cannot have been easy to obtain. Excellent work, Baron Vallon.”

“Oh? Is it? It is a precious liquor I procured from the northern Holy Empire. Please drink at ease, Your Grace!”

“V-very well. Thank you.”

To meet someone of lofty renown and host them was to build a bond.

For Baron Vallon, whose coffers might be full thanks to his location in the eastern commercial hub, but whose reputation and power were weak, forming ties with a rising saint like me was a tremendous boon.

That was why he had invited all the surrounding nobles of the eastern region and was showing off with all his might as the banquet’s host for the first time in ages.

To me, it looked like wasteful extravagance, money bleeding out in streams—but if he was happy with it, what could I do?

“He will manage on his own.”

Thinking that, I kept sipping the wine he offered.

He had called it expensive, and indeed, it was quite good. It clung to the palate beautifully.

“How is it? The party. Is it all right?”

At that moment, Your Grace, Duchess of Aquitaine, approached after chatting at length with the noblewomen in the distance.

By now, she had begun entrusting all outward affairs—matters of greeting and receiving as a lord—to me, while she laughed and conversed with the ladies, effectively taking on the role of an interior minister of the household.

It did not seem particularly bad for me, but I could not help thinking… was it truly all right for her to be like that?

“Ahem. I am enjoying myself well, thanks to you. So what were those noble ladies saying, Your Grace, Duchess of Aquitaine? You spoke with them for quite some time.”

“Oh, trivial solicitations.”

“Solicitations?”

“Yes. They said they have daughters of marriageable age, and asked whether we might take them as attendants. Our Margrave is very popular, is he not?”

“Pfft!”

At her words, I sprayed out the wine I was drinking.

“Cough—kgh, cough. Attendants?”

Were those women out of their minds?

To ask a newly married couple whether they would take a marriageable daughter as an attendant—anyone could see what they were trying to do. As if to underline it, Your Grace, Duchess of Aquitaine, had even said, at the end, that I was quite popular.

A chill ran down my spine for no reason.

“P-please do not misunderstand, Your Grace, Duchess of Aquitaine.”

“Hmph. What misunderstanding? It is only natural. From their perspective, you are a golden rope dropped straight down from heaven, are you not? Who knows—if they even bear a bastard, perhaps they will quietly claim a place in the line of succession.”

“…….”

This lady…

It did not sound like she was “fine” at all.

“I would rather not invite pointless misunderstandings. I will convey a firm refusal at once.”

With worry creeping in, I spoke decisively. I had only just married—living under needless suspicion was not something I wanted.

But then—

“No. It is fine. We should accept. In the end, will we not need attendants from noble families in your court and mine? The children of lords are better than the half-baked nobles we used before.”

Your Grace, Duchess of Aquitaine, was not an easy opponent.

“That will be an important factor in strengthening intimacy and loyalty between you and other lords. Or, if it comes to it… they also have value as hostages.”

She said something, in a way, chilling—without the slightest hesitation. Then again, she had been a great noble ruling a vast territory; perhaps that political sense was only natural.

“So do not worry. I will not be jealous over something like that. And… honestly, I doubt they will be prettier than I am. Their mothers were not much to look at. Do you think you will stray? Hoho.”

“…….”

Did I really marry properly?

If anything, I was more frightened now.

Whether she knew my thoughts or not, Your Grace, Duchess of Aquitaine, grew excited instead, saying she would meet more people and bring in even more daughters as attendants. And off she went.

I could only gape, my mouth hanging open. What sort of woman did that…

“Keukkeuk. Why do you look so troubled? It is a pleasing sight.”

“If it pleases me twice, I will end up living as a captive later.”

“It means you are a match made in heaven. A match made in heaven. People always gather with their own kind, do they not? Uwahahaha!”

Magician Agpiel laughed loudly, delighted. Lately he seemed to enjoy watching me squirm more than ever.

“My, now. Let your face brighten. You should live smiling.”

“I am smiling as much as I can.”

“Are you? Then I must have misunderstood. Huhahaha.”

“Ugh… better to die than to suffer.”

“Yes, truly—you would rather die than suffer.”

Magician Agpiel gave a small chuckle at my pouting expression.

“But you should not start complaining already. It seems something might soon come along that will make your head hurt even more.”

“What? What do you mean by that, Magician Agpiel?”

At his cryptic words, I tilted my head. He had been raising his cup and mingling among the nobles—had he heard something?

Then—

“The situation seems… not simple. The nobles of the eastern region, more than expected, seem to harbor a great deal of dissatisfaction with the state of the Elang Kingdom.”

“Dissatisfaction…”

How could they not? If they did not, they would be mad.

Were there not three kings—no, now that the Western Nobles’ Alliance had collapsed, two kings—each insisting he was the rightful king?

And taking advantage of the division, the Holy Empire’s Emperor had even invaded the eastern region. Yet those who claimed to be kings had neglected the east entirely.

So of course they could not help being dissatisfied.

“Hmm.”

But Magician Agpiel’s words carried a slightly different nuance. It felt like the sort of dissatisfaction that might splash onto me.

And as expected—

“They want that dissatisfaction to be resolved through you.”

“……?”

Damn it.

What was that supposed to mean?

“You married Your Grace, Duchess of Aquitaine, did you not? In effect, though the claim is distant, you could still be raised as a candidate among the claimants.”

“Ugh. Do not tell me they are stirring public sentiment, insisting I must take the throne?”

“I do not know if they are stirring sentiment, but at least in this eastern region, such a wind is blowing. Huhahaha.”

“Oh, for…”

My vision went dark.

Why did the Duke of Bourgogne guard against me so fiercely? It was because of a catastrophe exactly like this—me ascending the throne of the Elang Kingdom.

From the Duke of Bourgogne’s perspective, he wanted to use the power he had barely seized to secure the Duchy of Bourgogne’s independence. The last thing he would want was a powerful king like me inheriting the crown.

Of course—

“I do not intend to become the king of the Elang Kingdom.”

From the start, I had no desire to become the king of the Elang Kingdom.

Why would I?

I could not even properly govern my own direct domain yet, and inefficiencies were already piling up. And they wanted me to rule an Elang Kingdom where lords, each no different from an independent state, swarmed everywhere?

“Am I insane?”

It would be maddening.

At least in my direct lands, there would be resistance, but I could crush it with force in moderation.

In a domain, the lord’s word was the law. But the kingdom was different.

Nobles with their own domains were guaranteed their own rule. If I tried to crush them by force, they would unite immediately—or join hands with foreign powers—and fight me.

There might be honor in it, but for me it was a throne with no benefit at all. That was the kingship of the Elang Kingdom.

“Well, given your temperament, it is only natural the throne would not appeal to you. Why would you want to tear at each other and brawl in politics with every lord? Even the fief you already possess is kingdom-sized—better to grow it in peace. Keukkeuk.”

“That is exactly what I am saying!”

Truly, the only one who understood me was Magician Agpiel.

He grasped my thoughts at once.

“But people do not think the same way, do they? They want you to become the kingdom’s true guardian.”

“Why?”

“Because the great reputation you have built creates the you that they see from the outside. A fair and upright ruler without greed. Is that not what every noble wants and desires? Huhahaha.”

“…….”

At Magician Agpiel’s words, I had nothing to say.

When I thought about it, the nobles outside would certainly judge me based solely on my reputation.

“Even I can see why I would look appealing.”

A noble who willingly accepted losses to help the weak, pious, who revived the economy, and who did not invade outward out of greed.

Even to me, he sounded like a lord worth following.

The only problem was that I did not want it. There was no reason to shoulder needless burdens—or invite an unnecessary war with the Duke of Bourgogne.

So I hurriedly said to Magician Agpiel—

“Ugh, we should leave this place at once. If anyone asks, say I am sick and went to rest…”

But it seemed I had realized and responded far too late.

“Your Grace!”

“Pious Margrave, Your Grace!”

Nobles who had spotted me from afar came running over, thoroughly drunk.

“I will devote my loyalty!”

“Please lead us!”

“That is right. Without Your Grace, there is no one who can govern this chaotic kingdom. Please, do not abandon us!”

They shouted it at the top of their lungs, loud enough for everyone to hear.

-Ddiriring!

[You have been raised to the seat of the King of the Elang Kingdom, supported by the nobles’ acclaim. Although there are many who claim the throne, at least you could become a fairly credible pretender to the crown.]

[Notification: You have acquired a Claim to the Throne of the Elang Kingdom. If you choose to assert it, you may become the third King of the Elang Kingdom with the support of the eastern nobles and the southern nobles.]

“…Damn it.”

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