Chapter 150 - Valdemar Golt

"Were you planning to give Baron Wolcher's territory to that man?"

The one who asked was Luri.

Ferda had returned to the castle after coming back from the town hall.

"Yes."

"So, what did he say?"

"He said he'd think about it."

And with that, the conversation ended.

He was a free spirit, and there was no way to bind him.

Ferda made no further attempt to persuade him.

"Isn't that basically a rejection?"

"I don't think so."

A wandering knight who belonged nowhere.

Even before Ferda made the offer, countless nobles had undoubtedly tried to grant him lands and a knighthood.

Each time, he had firmly refused.

Because if you beat around the bush, he would simply interpret things however he pleased.

If he had intended to reject Ferda's offer, he would have said so outright.

Saying he'd think about it meant he saw it as a genuine option—and that there was a possibility he might set foot in this place.

The irony was that, precisely because he could not be easily trusted, there was now a chance he would accept the title.

Yet Ferda paid it no mind.

'A man loyal to me...'

Someone who would stand in his way when he was walking the wrong path.

That was the kind of loyalty Ferda truly needed.

***

After leaving the city hall, Alberdo looked for a place to spend the night.

His armor was too heavy, making it impossible to stay at an inn with second-floor guest rooms.

As though it were the most natural thing in the world, Alberdo headed for a stable and settled down inside.

The temporary stable that had been expanded for the Festival of the Beginning of Spring had become quiet, leaving Alberdo with a place to sleep.

Before sunset, he inspected his equipment.

He could skip sleep, but never maintenance—not even for a single day.

"...Hmm?"

While tending to his club, Alberdo muttered to himself.

Countless members of the Demon Race had charged at him, and even those renowned for their strength had tried every possible method to destroy this weapon.

Every last one of them ended up as bloody pulp, learning firsthand that they had failed.

Naturally so.

The weapon he wielded was forged from Great Dragon Stone, a legendary material said to be as hard as a dragon's fangs.

In terms of durability, it could not be broken by ordinary force.

And yet...

There was a mark on it that he had never seen before.

One thick indentation, and beside it, four smaller ones.

No matter how he looked at it, they resembled the shape of fingers.

"Hmm..."

Looking at the marks, Alberdo recalled the Armored Knight who had blocked his attack.

When two attacks collided, the weaker force inevitably suffered the greater shock.

At that moment, Alberdo had realized something.

He could never overcome that armor through sheer strength alone.

Its owner stood on a level even higher than himself—a man who had spent his life single-handedly slaying colossal monsters.

"Hmm..."

Alberdo did not dwell on such things.

In a battlefield where people killed and were killed, the one who survived was the victor, and the one who died was the loser.

Casting aside all distracting thoughts, he resumed polishing his weapon.

***

On a bright morning,

Alexander Arken, Crown Prince of the Empire, stood before the imperial gates waiting for someone.

"They're really coming today, right?"

"Yes, Your Highness. They will certainly arrive before the end of today, so if you could please wait just a little longer..."

His adjutant answered nervously.

He had every reason to be.

The previous adjutant had been killed yesterday.

His crime?

The guest had failed to arrive yesterday.

It had clearly been nothing more than a fit of rage, yet no one dared criticize or protest.

That was the authority of the Crown Prince.

The thought that he himself could die just as meaninglessly left his throat dry.

Fortunately, that fate did not befall him.

A magnificent carriage, escorted by an army, emerged from the forest and entered the plains.

"They've arrived!"

The Crown Prince, who had been muttering arrogantly to himself, shot to his feet.

A carriage of a size forbidden to anyone but the Emperor under imperial law.

Even the reckless Alexander broke into a cold sweat at the sight.

A man capable of making even the arrogant Crown Prince—who always looked down on others—tremble in fear.

The banner of that man's house drew closer and closer until it stopped before Alexander.

An old man whose face was covered in age spots stepped down from the carriage.

It was Grand Duke Valdemar Golt.

"Thank you for honoring us with your visit, Grand Duke Golt."

Unlike Alexander, who greeted him with a warm smile, Valdemar's face remained utterly expressionless.

His eyes looked upon Alexander as though he were a pitiful brat.

"I never thought I'd live to hear the word 'thank you' come out of your mouth."

"You are one of the great pillars of the Arken Empire. Of course I should show you the respect you deserve."

"And yet I heard you spent all of yesterday whining about how humiliating it was to bow your head to that bastard."

"Wh-What? Surely that can't be true."

In reality, he had indeed said exactly that.

It was impossible to figure out who had leaked it.

Then again, he had complained so loudly and so often that anyone could have heard him.

"So what if you curse me? Do you think I'd so much as blink?"

His voice was calm and relaxed.

Ordinarily, Alexander would have flown into a rage at anyone who looked down on him.

But before this man, fear took precedence.

Grand Duke Valdemar Golt.

His other position was Supreme Council Member of the Emergency Response Headquarters of the Arken Empire.

From this moment onward, this man held Alexander's life in his hands.

Alexander lowered his head respectfully and pleaded.

"At this 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 walking.

Alexander followed behind him like an attendant.

"What about the carriage?"

"It has been prepared at the entrance. As soon as you board, we can depart immediately."

"Very well. You may leave now."

Watching his back, Alexander cursed inwardly.

'Just because you're an old man doesn't mean you should still be chasing women...'

Valdemar had long coveted Alexander's younger sister, Stella.

When she began to blossom, inheriting their mother's breathtaking beauty and graceful figure, Valdemar repeatedly sent requests and gifts to the Emperor asking for Stella's hand in marriage.

When her marriage was arranged with another man, he even shamelessly tried to have her fiancé executed for treason.

After Stella died, he immediately shifted his target to Olivia.

Alexander knew every act of corruption and every atrocity Valdemar had committed in pursuit of imperial princesses.

And yet he could not touch him.

"Brat."

That was what Valdemar called Alexander.

For a moment, Alexander wondered if his thoughts had somehow been read.

"What is it, sir?"

"This time, we'll make the ceremonial entrance together."

Alexander's eyes widened.

"W-With me?"

"Is there a problem?"

"N-None at all."

Knowing that Valdemar had despised him ever since childhood, this would be the first time the two of them stood together in public.

Only now, after nearly reaching middle age, was Alexander finally allowed to stand beside Valdemar.

But he did not have long to wonder about the old man's intentions.

The thunderous cheers that erupted the moment they entered answered everything.

"Grand Duke Golt!!"

"May Alte protect the Grand Duke!"

The deafening roar was nothing but praise.

Some offered prayers to their god, while others praised him in their own way.

Valdemar smiled and raised his hand.

Wherever his gaze fell, explosive cheers erupted.

"Brat. Smile."

"...Pardon?"

"Don't make me repeat myself."

"Y-Yes!"

Realizing he had been overwhelmed by the atmosphere, Alexander forced a smile and waved as well.

Yet wherever his own gaze turned, the response was noticeably lukewarm.

Even in a situation that made him want to frown, he kept smiling through gritted teeth.

"Do you understand now?"

Valdemar suddenly asked.

Alexander immediately understood what he meant.

Grand Duke Valdemar, greeted with cheers by everyone.

Alexander, greeted with little more than indifference.

It was a painful lesson in knowing his own place.

"If I were to draw a dagger and stab you right now, how do you think people would react?"

"..."

"Of course they'd be shocked. I'd have stabbed the Emperor's own son. But how long do you think that shock would last?"

Not long.

Every noble who had tried—or actually succeeded—in exposing this man had failed and disappeared without a trace.

There was a reason for that.

No matter how much of a lecherous old man he was for coveting his younger sister...

He was a war hero who had fought for the prosperity of the Empire.

He was its face.

Its father.

The Empire's final pillar.

An absolute force that could never be brought down.

That was the man called Valdemar Golt.

"And yet someone like you thinks you're in a position to ask me for a fair and rational judgment?"

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

"I beg you."

Still smiling as he waved to the crowd, Alexander spoke.

"I, Alexander Arken... desperately seek the mercy of the great Grand Duke..."

Though he held his head high, his spirit had already sunk to rock bottom.

Only then did Valdemar nod with satisfaction.

"What is it that you want?"

***

The residence of the Black Bandana had once been the hideout of illegal brewers who produced bootleg liquor.

True to its origins, its exterior resembled either a hunter's cabin or a den occupied by ferocious beasts.

Yet despite its appearance, the deeper one ventured inside, the more immense and labyrinthine it became—far surpassing even an ordinary castle in both size and complexity.

Because of this, the Black Bandana's headquarters was commonly known as the "Ant Nest."

Today, its key executives from across the continent had gathered there.

The moment the blockade of the Far East was lifted, the Black Bandana summoned all of its senior officers.

The organization's leader, Garnet Swallow, spoke.

"The Empire has entered a state of emergency."

"That's only natural. A monster of that caliber appeared within the Empire..."

"More than the monster, I'd say the annihilation of an entire legion is the bigger issue."

An unprecedented invasion, coupled with catastrophic losses.

This was not something that could simply be swept under the rug.

Responsibility had to be determined clearly, and those at fault held accountable.

Which meant information would become more valuable than ever.

It was more than enough to draw the attention of the Black Bandana, the continent's foremost secret intelligence organization.

"Two weeks from now, the post-mortem convened by the Emergency Response Headquarters will begin."

A meeting that would examine everything—from the origins of the incident to its conclusion.

There, the person responsible for this disaster would be identified, and disciplinary measures decided.

"Isn't the outcome obvious? They'll point the finger at the Crown Prince."

The person bearing ultimate responsibility for the destruction of the legion was Alexander Arken.

Even if he became the prime suspect during the meeting, he would not dare throw a tantrum.

The Supreme Council Members possessed enough power that even the Crown Prince could not treat them carelessly.

"The Crown Prince will say a few words, and then they'll wrap things up by cutting off the head of someone lower down."

Even so, they were all in the same camp.

They would exploit the Crown Prince's weakness for their own benefit, then quietly bury the matter.

That much was obvious.

"If it were really that simple, I wouldn't have summoned all of you."

If events truly unfolded that way...

"The problem is that this case won't go in that direction. When they start looking further down the chain of command, they won't point to the operations chief beneath him—they'll point somewhere else."

"What do you think, Boss?"

She asked.

"The Far East, most likely."

The Far East.

It was a land that could be summed up under a single name—the domain of Grand Duchess Valdrova.

"Among the citizens of the Empire, public opinion has begun to spread that the Far East may be the one responsible for this incident."

"That's strange. From what I know, there wasn't a single word about it during the week following the annihilation of the 1st Legion."

"It must have been spread deliberately."

The Empire's intelligence department had been moving even before the extermination operation was finished.

They spread false information through taverns frequented by commoners, worshippers at churches, and women gathered at the washing areas.

In any information war, seizing the initiative came first.

"The reason the Imperial Army suffered such devastating losses was because the Far East failed to respond, right?"

"Ungrateful fools. Without the Empire's protection, they'd have died on the roadside long ago, yet they don't even know how to be thankful."

Those who knew nothing had no choice but to believe such stories.

And once they did, public opinion turned overwhelmingly against the Grand Duchess's domain.

"With public opinion moving in this direction, even the Regent won't be able to do much."

"It seems they're quite eager to get their hands on the Far East's assets."

Just two years ago, the Far East might as well not have existed.

Some of its lords had even begged to be transferred to other regions.

Yet those same people had suddenly fallen silent.

Remarkably, the turning point had been the appearance of Ferda Rosnova.

From that moment onward, the development of the territory accelerated dramatically.

The Pascal Trading Company, the Empire's greatest merchant company, and the Dandolo Trading Company, once its closest rival.

By bringing both under its banner, the Far East came to control nearly half of the Empire's common economy.

Its strength wasn't limited to economic power alone.

With the unrivaled technology of Magitech Engineering as its foundation, the territory's potential had become impossible to measure.

All of that was more than enough to raise the morale of its lords.

And through this siege, they had used it as both hammer and anvil, forging that burning spirit into something even stronger.

With the Far East rising as a unified power, it was only natural that the Empire viewed it as a thorn in its side.

"It doesn't seem likely that even the Regent can resolve all of this alone. They'll probably come looking for us, won't they?"

"Now that's what I'm talking about. Looks like we're finally going to make some serious money again."

The executives joked among themselves, discussing just how outrageously they should overcharge.

Instead of joining in, Garnet poured cold water over the cheerful mood.

"We're not selling the information."

"What?"

"If we don't sell information for money, then what are we supposed to do?"

"Are you just going to ignore the Far East and let it collapse, Boss?"

Keeping a solemn expression, Garnet remained silent.

The joking executives gradually sensed that something was different.

"...Don't tell me... you're proposing we break the egg?"

Disbelief filled the room.

Garnet answered.

"Yes."

"Are you serious?"

"If you declare that stage... won't our position become extremely dangerous?"

Everyone tried to dissuade her.

Garnet had expected exactly this kind of resistance.

That was why she had repeated the same question to herself countless times before bringing it up—

Even before this meeting had begun.

Is this really the right thing to do?

Once a mistake was made, there would be no turning back.

It wasn't just herself who would be ruined.

Everyone would fall.

And "everyone" included even her ancestors, who had maintained this secret organization through the generations.

"I've thought it over again and again, and this is the conclusion I've reached."

Even so, no matter how many times she considered it, she always arrived at the same answer.

"To carry on my father's will—and beyond that, the will of our ancestors—we will begin Breaking the Egg as of today."

The die had been cast.

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