Chapter 202

Translator: Willia

Having entered the imperial capital of Nibelungen almost without bloodshed, Ricardt first set the citizens’ minds at ease.

He took no particularly sweeping measures. He merely announced that there would be no looting or slaughter and told them to go about their work.

Only a handful of knights had actually entered the city. The remaining force of some six thousand was encamped outside.

The death of Fifth Prince Bellator was a great change in one sense, and no change at all in another.

It brought no great change to the daily lives of ordinary citizens, but it was a major change for the nobles who had lived under his oppression and in the War of Imperial Succession.

Still, when the master changed, courtesy demanded that one first present oneself. Courtesy aside, anyone who wished to survive knew enough about the ways of the world to at least show their face.

Ricardt had a well-established reputation for not killing people indiscriminately, but it was equally well known that when he said he would do something, he did it.

The man killed kings and members of the Imperial Family. People reasoned that he would hardly blink at killing a mere notable or minor noble.

So people converged on the imperial palace like gathering clouds, laden with all manner of gifts.

Among them were many knights and lords who had once followed the Fifth Prince before returning home. Since they had once been enemies, they thought they ought to at least come and swear allegiance.

Not one of them, however, was able to meet Ricardt. Ricardt had no wish to see them.

“Are you going to kill them all? Everyone who was our enemy?”

Roy asked as he sat in the grass tending Ricardt’s sword. The boy had his back against the old defensive tower where Marie had once been imprisoned.

In truth, he was admiring the sword more than tending it. This wondrous magic sword, or holy sword, never suffered damage to its edge.

“No.”

Ricardt spoke while looking around the tower. His gaze seemed fixed on something invisible, or perhaps something that had once been there. It could no longer be seen now. All of it had come to nothing.

“Then they’ll all be anxious. Anxious people tend to cause trouble.”

“So you’ve learned to read people now?”

“I’ve been following you for years.”

“I haven’t studied much history, but most conquering monarchs seem to kill their own allies once they succeed, not their former enemies. I never understood it before. Now I think I do.”

“What?”

When Ricardt casually said something so alarming, Roy looked up from the sword at the man who was both his teacher and his king.

As though emerging from the past, Ricardt turned to Roy and smiled.

“That isn’t me. I’m no conquering monarch. Marie can decide what to do for herself. There will never be another army like the Order of the Steel Knights. But I promised to treat them as people, not tools, and I intend to keep doing so.”

“What do you mean?”

“The strongest ally can also become the most dangerous enemy. Even if they do nothing wrong, in time their very existence may come to be seen as a wrong. Once the Second Prince has been dealt with and the coronation is over, I’ll return to Adeloron. Looking to the future, I think that is the wise course.”

“It’s like friendship, then. Sometimes you have to keep a little distance to become closer. Is that what you mean?”

“Yes. You understand it well.”

Ricardt was Marie’s lover and husband, but he was also her patron and political partner. If she became emperor, he would consequently be the emperor’s patron.

That would mean someone stood above the emperor, which suggested something structurally amiss. Ricardt had already looked that far ahead.

“I still don’t really understand...... but I want you to be happy, Teacher.”

“Do I look unhappy to you?”

“No.”

“Happiness always betrays you, so it’s best not to rely on it too much. It’s only like a wind that visits briefly before passing on. Better to ask yourself what you want, what you hope for, what you must do, and what you are capable of doing.”

“I understand.”

“Have you practiced with the axe? What about the sword?”

“Didn’t you say that a thousand practice sessions are worth less than a single real fight?”

“You rascal, you haven’t practiced. Fine. Let’s spar for the first time in a while.”

Ricardt held out his hand for his sword. Roy stared down at it for a moment, then slowly rose. Without warning, he swung it at Ricardt with all his might.

Ricardt flicked his hand away and easily dodged. It was an outrageously dangerous and disrespectful act, but the trust rooted deep between them had turned it into nothing more than play.

Ricardt said with a laugh.

“It’ll wound your pride even more if I beat you barehanded.”

Roy laughed too, and the two began to move together. It was not long before the sword ended up in Ricardt’s hand, while Roy sprang back and snatched up his axe.

Then he attacked Ricardt without the slightest hesitation, putting all his strength into it. Every movement was broad, yet he kept his openings to a minimum.

He compensated for any opening by ramming with his shoulder or wrenching the axe back. Roy’s handling of the weapon was highly skilled, natural, and devastating.

Apart from the difference in weapons, it resembled Ricardt’s swordsmanship more than anyone else’s did. Ice, Bori, and Marie each possessed something uniquely their own, but Roy did not.

In the truest sense, he was the one who had absorbed the most of Ricardt’s art. That was partly because he had always followed at Ricardt’s side, watching and learning, but perhaps it was also because their hearts were alike.

Ricardt believed that raising even one disciple properly was an achievement no less valuable than becoming emperor. And Roy was an excellent disciple.

“What have you decided to do about Bellin?”

“Huh?”

Ricardt had been holding back as he sparred with Roy when he abruptly asked the question. Simple as it was, it broke Roy’s concentration just as he was steadily entering the State of Euphoria.

With a sharp kick, Ricardt struck Roy’s planted foot and effortlessly took away his axe. Then he caught Roy as the boy lost his balance and fell.

“What’s this? That was enough to rattle you?”

“Is attacking with words allowed?”

Roy regained his footing and wiped away his sweat as he asked.

“I’m allowed to. You aren’t.”

“Of course you are.”

“Of course I am?”

“Well, you are.”

“Well, I am?”

“Take this!”

Roy suddenly lunged to snatch back the axe, but he had no chance. He grappled with Ricardt instead, yet even Roy, famed for his strength, was no match for Ricardt after he had gained the strength of Dragonslayer Ilya. Ricardt did not even need to kindle his ‘Inner Fire’.

Ricardt toyed with Roy as though handling a small child, then roughly tousled his disciple’s hair and returned the axe.

Outwardly, they were teacher and disciple, king and royal attendant. Look more closely, however, and they were simply friends who understood each other well.

That was how Ricardt treated those close to him, and how he made friends.

*

“Think it over one more time. If matters continue this way, do you truly believe the king of Adeloron will spare you?”

Second Prince Rotarius sounded almost pleading. Duke Brummbar was already mounted, looking down at him.

“Have you forgotten your promise? The king of Adeloron says he will guarantee Duke Frederia’s title and rights. Why, then, should I continue following you, Prince?”

Duke Brummbar clearly meant to leave. If he did, however, he would not be departing alone. Nearly a thousand troops and their war supplies would go with him.

“Th-that will be r-resolved once I crush the king, will it not?”

Duke Brummbar gave an incredulous snort. Once again, he looked down at the Second Prince as though to say, If you were capable of that, would matters ever have come to this?

“I’m curious, so let me ask you something, Prince. What in the world do you want? Do you truly have any intention of becoming emperor? You hold a banquet every day. Is that meant to bring the nobles under your command, or do you merely want to amuse yourself? Like father, like son. You still don’t know where to shit or piss. You’re the spitting image of the former emperor.”

Duke Brummbar’s manner of speech had now changed completely. His words were harsh as well.

A duke and an imperial prince, or a royal prince, were admittedly nearly equal in rank, but invoking the former emperor that way still seemed to go too far.

Yet Rotarius was in no position to take offense.

“W-we must work in harmony if we are to accomplish great things, must we not? To say I merely wish to amuse myself...... Your words go too far.”

“It is already over. I hear the king pardons everyone who surrenders. You should give the matter careful thought as well, Prince.”

As though he had nothing more to say, Duke Brummbar spurred his horse forward. Then he led his army, already prepared to depart, out of the camp.

Rotarius stood frozen, watching the departing duke with a look of utter disbelief. The danger in Brummbar’s withdrawal was that the other nobles might follow his example and leave as well.

“What am I supposed to do now......?”

He murmured as if to himself. Baldur, who had watched everything from nearby, approached and spoke.

“Leaving the Empire is one option.”

“Wh-what did you say?”

“The king may spare you, but the queen never will. That is the difference between you and the other nobles.”

“You mean she would kill me even if I surrendered?”

“Consider it the other way around. Why would she spare you?”

“I think I’d spare them......”

“Haah......”

Baldur let out a deep sigh. Unlike the relentlessly cold Fifth Prince, the Second Prince possessed a measure of human warmth. If there was a problem, it was that he was far too human. He was not a man who could become a hero.

“You had several opportunities, Prince, and you threw away every one. When I defeated the Fifth Prince, I told you we had to pursue him at once, but you refused. I told you to strike Duke Frederia quickly, bind Duke Brummbar to your cause, and bring Stormhertz under your influence, but you dithered until that opportunity passed as well. Your final chance came when the king of Adeloron took the imperial capital. Duke Frederia had already submitted to him, and the king seized the capital without losing a single soldier. Even under favorable circumstances, defeating him in battle would have been difficult. Now the circumstances are against us as well. You have no choices left, Prince.”

“E-even you speak to me that way?”

“......”

Baldur stared at Rotarius for a moment, then suddenly shouted.

“Get a grip, you bastard!”

Rotarius jumped at the wholly unexpected outburst, and the nearby soldiers, knights, and nobles all turned to look.

Not one of them rebuked Baldur for his insolence, because they were all thinking the same thing.

“Listen, Rotarius. You gathered an army and enjoyed pretending you were emperor, but did you ever seriously mean to see this through? People came flocking to flatter you about being the rightful emperor and whatnot, and you actually believed them? Do you realize you seem like a fucking child? It’s admirable that you recognize ability and don’t discriminate between people, but you seem to be begging them.”

“......”

Whether it was heartfelt advice or something else, Rotarius was deeply shocked at being treated so roughly for the first time in his life and could only blink.

“For all your swagger, it looks as if you’re begging them to flatter you and pleading with them not to leave your side. Do you think people can’t see that?”

“......I-I did that?”

“Haah...... Now make a real choice. Will you die while at least preserving your dignity, like the Fifth Prince, or will you survive even if it means leaving the Empire?”

Rotarius’s heart pounded violently, but he swallowed once and looked around. Everyone stared back at him without expression. There was neither trust nor loyalty in their eyes.

Hearing heartfelt advice for the first time in his life left Rotarius bewildered and afraid. Still, he was not utterly cold like the Fifth Prince. If anything, he was the exact opposite.

“Th-there’s no need for innocent people to die or be hurt because of me. If I leave the Empire, wh-where should I go?”

Baldur regarded the Second Prince calmly. It was somewhat surprising that Rotarius had not become enraged at Baldur for daring to speak to him that way.

“Sinatria, or the Eastern Frontier.”

“I hear Sinatria is hot, while the Eastern Frontier is dangerous......”

“Haven’t you always been like this? There is no perfect choice. You ended up here because you kept wishing for one that doesn’t exist.”

“......I think Sinatria might be better......”

“Fine, then let’s go. To Sinatria. The Master Alliance already surrounds us on every side. They’re all blades-for-hire who will come running to kill us the moment the order is given.”

“You aren’t leaving me, Baldur?”

“Until you learn to tell shit from piss, won’t you need someone to change your diapers?”

“I’m sorry.”

Rotarius was already in his thirties, yet he seemed like a child who had made his first friend. That was because he had never before lived in an environment where such a thing was possible.

He had been neglected by the Imperial Family, and after becoming a count, he had been surrounded by nothing but sycophants whispering all manner of things in his ear. Perhaps it was only natural.

Still, perhaps he was fortunate to have finally met someone like a friend, even if it had taken until his thirties.

Only now did the thought suddenly occur to him. Did I ever truly want to become emperor?

****

For more chapters, you can check out my Patreon here –> https://patreon.com/warriorsballad