Valdemar Golt

“Were you planning to give Baron Walcher’s territory to him?”

The one who asked that question was Luri.

Ferda had returned from the town hall and gone back to the castle.

“Yes.”

“And what did he say?”

“He said he would think about it.”

And so the conversation ended.

As a free spirit, he could not be bound.

Ferda did not try to persuade him any further, either.

“Doesn’t that mean he rejected you?”

“I don’t think so.”

A wandering knight tied to no place.

Even before Ferda made his proposal, countless nobles must have tried to give him territories and knightly titles.

Every time, he had firmly refused.

He thought that if he spoke evasively, they would interpret it however they pleased.

If Alberto had intended to reject Ferda’s proposal, he would have said so.

Saying he would think about it meant there was room for a choice—and a possibility that he might set foot here.

It was ironic that his lack of trust was what made it possible for him to consider accepting the title.

It was a contradictory situation, but Ferda did not care.

‘A man loyal to me…….’

A man who could stand in his way when he was heading down the wrong path.

That was the kind of loyalty he needed.

* * *

Alberto left the town hall and chose a place to sleep rough.

His armor was too heavy for him to stay at an inn with second-floor rooms.

As though accustomed to it, Alberto found the stables and stayed there.

The temporary stables added for the Spring Welcoming Festival had become quiet, and fortunately provided Alberto with a place to sleep rough.

Before sunset, he inspected his equipment.

Alberto might skip sleep, but he never skipped maintenance, not even for a single day.

“……Hmph?”

While tending to his club, Alberto broke the silence.

Countless demons had attacked him, and even those who possessed considerable strength had tried all sorts of methods to break this weapon.

But all of them had experienced failure after being beaten into bloody pulp.

It was only natural.

His weapon was made of Great Dragon Stone, a legendary material said to be as hard as a dragon’s molar.

In terms of durability, ordinary force could not break it at all.

It was that kind of club.

Yet it bore marks he had never seen before.

One thick mark, with four relatively smaller ones beside it.

No matter how he looked at them, they were the shape of fingers.

“Hmph…….”

Looking at the marks, Alberto recalled the armored knight who had blocked his attack.

When two attacks collided, the weaker side suffered the greater impact as their forces canceled each other out.

When his attack had been blocked, Alberto had felt it.

That he could not overcome that armor with mere strength.

That the knight stood above even him, who had killed colossal monsters alone.

“Hmph…….”

Alberto did not dwell on such things.

In a world of killing and being killed, the survivor was the victor, and the dead the loser.

He shook off his distracting thoughts and finished tending to his weapon.

* * *

On a sunny morning,

Crown Prince Alexander Arken of the Empire was waiting for someone at the Imperial gates.

“He’s coming today, right?”

“Yes, Your Highness. He will certainly arrive sometime today, so please wait just a little longer…….”

The adjutant was flustered.

He had no choice; another adjutant had died yesterday.

The reason was that he had not arrived yesterday.

It had undoubtedly been a mere outlet for anger, but no one could point it out or protest.

That was the position of the Crown Prince.

The thought that he, too, could die pointlessly made his throat tighten.

But fortunately, that did not happen.

A splendid carriage and an army emerged from the forest onto the plains.

“They’re coming!”

The arrogant prince, who had been muttering to himself, sprang to his feet.

Under Imperial law, no carriage of this size was permitted to anyone but the emperor.

The sight made the wastrel Alexander break into a cold sweat.

A man who could make even the brash, arrogant Crown Prince—always looking down on others—tremble in fear.

The banner of that man’s house drew closer and closer until it came to a stop before Alexander.

An old man with age spots stepped down from inside.

He was Grand Duke Valdemar Golt.

“Thank you for visiting us like this, Grand Duke Golt.”

Unlike Alexander, who greeted him with an ingratiating smile, Valdemar’s face held no emotion.

His eyes seemed to regard him as a pathetic young pup.

“After all my years, I never thought I would hear the word ‘thank you’ from your mouth.”

“As the great pillar of the Arken Empire, I ought to show you the respect you deserve, should I not?”

“And yet I hear you spent all yesterday singing about how displeased you were at having to bow your head to that son of a bitch.”

“Goodness, I-I couldn’t possibly have said that, could I?”

He really had said exactly that.

It was hard to guess who had leaked it, but Alexander had actually sung it so loudly that it would not have been surprising if anyone had exposed him. There was no way to keep it from spreading.

“Do you think I would so much as blink because you swore at me?”

He looked utterly at ease.

Alexander normally flew into a rage when someone treated him lightly, but in front of this man, fear came first.

Grand Duke Valdemar Golt.

His other title was Chief Commissioner of the Arken Emergency Response Headquarters.

From this point on, this man would hold Alexander’s life in his hands.

Alexander bowed politely and pleaded.

“At this public hearing…… I ask that you make a fair and rational judgment.”

“A fair and rational judgment…….”

Instead of answering, Grand Duke Golt straightened his back and began to move.

Alexander followed behind him like an attendant.

“The carriage?”

“It’s ready by the entrance. We will depart as soon as you board.”

“I see. You may go now.”

Watching his back, Alexander cursed him inwardly.

‘That old lecher, still chasing skirts at his age…….’

Alexander knew that Valdemar had long been after Stella, Alexander’s sister.

When Stella began to develop the breasts and hips she had inherited from her peerlessly beautiful mother, Valdemar sent the emperor countless requests and gifts asking to marry her.

When her marriage to another man was finally decided, he stubbornly contrived to have her fiancé hanged for treason.

After Stella died, he immediately changed targets and began pursuing Olivia.

Alexander knew all too well the corruption and evil deeds Valdemar had committed in his desire for the princess.

And yet he dared not touch him.

“Brat.”

That was what Valdemar called Alexander.

Alexander felt a needless twinge of guilt, wondering whether Valdemar had seen through his true thoughts.

“What is it?”

“You will attend the entry ceremony with me.”

Alexander’s eyes widened.

“W-With you?”

“Is that a problem?”

“No. Not at all.”

Knowing that Valdemar had detested Alexander since he was a child, this was the first time they had ever stood together at such an event.

Only now, at an age when he was nearly middle-aged, did Alexander finally stand beside Valdemar.

But that intention might not last much longer.

Because cheers rang out the moment they entered.

“Grand Duke Golt!!”

“Altesia! Protect the Grand Duke!”

The thunderous sound was all praise.

Some offered prayers to the goddess, while others praised him in their own ways.

Valdemar smiled and raised a hand.

The spot toward which all eyes turned erupted in cheers so loud they took one’s breath away.

“Brat. Smile.”

“Pardon?”

“Don’t make me say it twice.”

“Ah, yes!”

Realizing he had been overwhelmed by the atmosphere, Alexander smiled along and waved.

He couldn’t help noticing how lukewarm the response was wherever he looked.

Even when the situation was enough to make his expression crease, he kept smiling steadfastly.

“Do you understand now?”

Valdemar asked abruptly, but Alexander understood what he meant.

Grand Duke Golt was cheered by everyone.

Alexander made everyone uncomfortable.

It forced him to painfully understand his place.

“If I were to draw a dagger and stab you right now, what kind of reaction do you think it would provoke?”

“……”

“Of course, everyone would be horrified. They would say I had stabbed the emperor’s son. But how long do you think that would last?”

It would not last long.

Every noble who had tried—or actually dared—to expose this man had failed and disappeared without a sound.

It could not have been otherwise.

No matter how much of a lecherous old man he was, lusting after Alexander’s sister,

he was a war hero who had fought for the Empire’s prosperity, its face, and its father.

He was the Empire’s last pillar, an absolute power that could not be toppled.

That was the man known as Valdemar Golt.

“Do you think you are in any position to demand a fair and rational judgment from me?”

Only then did the Crown Prince realize what he truly needed to say.

“Please.”

Alexander smiled and waved.

“I, Alexander Arken…… desperately need the mercy of the great Grand Duke…….”

Though he held his head high, his heart had already sunk to the bottom.

Only then did Valdemar ask, looking satisfied,

“What is it you want?”

* * *

Black Bandana’s headquarters had once been a hideout for illegal distillers who manufactured moonshine.

True to its nature as a hideout, its exterior looked like a hunter’s shelter or a place occupied by a vicious beast.

Yet, contrary to its appearance, the deeper one went inside, the larger and more complex it became—far beyond anything comparable to an ordinary castle.

Because of these characteristics, Black Bandana’s headquarters was commonly called the “Ant’s Nest.”

Its key executives, scattered across the continent, had all gathered there.

As soon as the blockade of the Far East was lifted, Black Bandana summoned every executive.

Garnet Swallow, the organization’s leader, spoke.

“The Empire is on high alert.”

“Naturally. A monster of that magnitude has appeared within the Empire…….”

“Wouldn’t the extermination of an entire legion be the bigger issue than the monster?”

It was an unprecedented invasion, accompanied by damage on a scale that could not be ignored.

They could not let it fade away; they had to clearly determine who was at fault and who was responsible for the situation.

In other words, this was a situation where information was life itself.

It was more than enough to attract the attention of Black Bandana, the secret intelligence organization.

“Two weeks from now, the postmortem hosted by the Emergency Response Headquarters will begin.”

A meeting that would examine everything from the root and origin of the incident through its final stages.

It would determine who was responsible and impose disciplinary action.

“Won’t it be an obvious story? They’ll point to the Crown Prince.”

Alexander Arken was ultimately responsible for the destruction of the legion.

Even if he was singled out as a suspect at this meeting, Alexander could not throw a fit.

The chief commissioners were people of such overwhelming power that even the Crown Prince dared not treat them carelessly.

“It’ll be obvious. The Crown Prince will say a few words, then finish by cutting off the head of some underling.”

Even so, they were all in it together in the end.

It was obvious that they would exploit the Crown Prince’s weakness for their own gain, then let the matter pass.

“If it were that simple, we wouldn’t have called everyone together like this.”

If things were to proceed that way,

“The problem is that this matter won’t proceed that way. Rather than pointing to the operational staff under him, the blame that would normally flow down to some underling will point elsewhere.”

“What do you think, Boss?”

she said.

“The Far East.”

The Far East.

It was land that could all be grouped under the name of the Grand Duchy of Valdrova.

“Among the Imperial people, public opinion has begun to suggest that the Far East may be the true culprit behind this incident.”

“That’s strange. I heard there wasn’t a word about it for a week after the First Legion was wiped out.”

“It was spread deliberately.”

The Imperial Intelligence Bureau had been active since before the extermination was complete.

They spread false information through taverns frequented by ordinary people, churchgoers, and women at the washing places.

In information warfare, seizing the initiative always comes first.

-So the reason so many Imperial soldiers died was that the Far East failed to respond?

-Those wretches. Without the Empire’s protection, they would have died in the wilderness long ago, yet they don’t even know their debt.

Those who knew nothing had no choice but to believe it, and that belief spiraled out of control, turning inexorably against the Grand Duchy.

“With public opinion turning against them like this, even the Regent won’t be able to do much.”

“The Far East’s assets must be awfully tempting.”

Only two years earlier, the Far East had been practically nonexistent.

Some lords of the Far East had clamored to be transferred to another region, at least.

Yet even those who had clamored had fallen silent, astonishingly.

Astonishingly, the turning point had been the emergence of Ferda Rosnova.

From then on, the development of the territories had accelerated dramatically.

Pascal Company, the Empire’s foremost trading company, and Dandolo Company, once the runner-up.

By acquiring both, they had seized half the flow of the Empire’s commoner economy.

And because it was backed not merely by economic power but by the unrivaled technology of magitech engineering, the territory’s potential was impossible to gauge.

All of it was enough to raise the lords’ morale.

Through this siege, they had used it as hammer and anvil, forging the already-heated momentum even harder.

As the Far East emerged as a single power, it was bound to be an eyesore in the Empire’s view.

“It seems difficult for the Regent to resolve all this alone. He’ll want us, won’t he?”

“Kyah, we’ll get our hands on some proper money for the first time in ages.”

The executives joked and discussed how much they could overcharge.

Rather than joining their frivolous mood, Garnet poured cold water over it.

“We will not sell the information.”

“What? What are you going to do if we don’t sell our information for money?”

“Are you going to leave the Far East to fend for itself and let it fall, Boss?”

Garnet kept her stern expression and remained silent.

Then the executives who had been joking began to realize one by one.

“Don’t tell me…… Are you proposing Egg-Breaking?”

An atmosphere of disbelief settled over them.

Garnet answered.

“Yes.”

“Are you serious?”

“If we declare that phase, won’t our position be put at risk?”

The mood was one of trying to dissuade her.

Garnet had expected this opposition as well.

That was why, even before bringing it up, and even before this meeting began, she had repeatedly asked herself.

Is this the right thing to do?

If she made one mistake, there would be no turning back.

It would not merely be her own ruin,

everyone would be ruined,

and “everyone” included the ancestors who had maintained this secret organization, meaning she would bring shame upon them as well.

“I have agonized over this many times, and this is the conclusion I reached.”

And yet, the same answer had surfaced in her mind time and time again.

“To carry on the will of my father, and beyond that, the will of our ancestors, as of today, we enter the Egg-Breaking phase.”

The die had been cast.