Chapter 55 : Chapter 55
The Lakeside Shield, Rasseu
True to its name, a great lake lay beside Rasseu Castle.
Of late, its waters had reflected only bleakness: refugees fleeing the Tusks, soldiers barring them from the castle, and townspeople oppressed by the Count’s men.
A grim tableau, and nothing more.
But that was no longer the case.
“The rightful heir of Blanc! Long live Dan le Blanc!”
Now, the noon lake reflected a blue sky, the cheering refugees and townspeople, and Sevha’s army, marching in triumph after defeating the Carved Tusks.
“The Knight of Shield is now the Young Master of Pleasure! So the young master’s shield protects even the whores…!”
Children ran alongside the triumphant column, singing a song about Sevha.
Soon, the adults joined in.
“The Young Master’s left hand holds a shield! His right hand holds Mari’s bouquet!”
Such was their joy that they did not stop singing, even when they saw Tataka and the Broken Tusks at the rear of the procession.
“So, Mari! Stop your farewell tears and just watch! See how he becomes a hero, wielding your bouquet!”
When the song ended, the innkeeper, weeping in the crowd, suddenly cried, “Marquis Dan le Blanc! Long live the Marquis!”
Immediately, everyone echoed the cry.
“Long live Marquis Dan le Blanc!”
Sevha, leading the procession on Toto, raised his right arm as everyone hailed him as Marquis.
Toto, as if thinking, They must be praising me, too! This feels good!, reared onto its hind legs, raising its forelegs and letting out a majestic cry.
Heeeigh!
The sight made the crowd cheer even louder.
The long procession continued, finally passing into the inner castle.
Once the crowd and its cheers had faded into the distance, Sevha halted Toto.
His face immediately went pale.
“No one’s watching now… so I suppose it’s all right if I pass out?”
And with that, he fainted and fell from his mount.
***
Rasseu Castle, Sevha’s Guest Room
Sevha lay on the bed, his torso bare. Teresse was applying medicine to his numerous wounds.
“Hunter. As I told you, you won’t be able to exert yourself for a while.”
“You mean I shouldn’t fight? Just go hunting to pass the time?”
“No hunting, either!”
The decisive battle with Achuk had left Sevha’s body a wreck. It was no exaggeration; even for him, the pain was difficult to endure.
“J-Just a little… o-occasionally!”
“I said no!”
Forbidden even from hunting, Sevha sulked.
Teresse ignored him and continued wrapping his bandages. “Honestly… you should be grateful it ended with just this.”
“If you’d helped more, it would have ended even better.”
“I was injured, too, you know.”
Sevha jeered, “Oh, really? Where? Your head?”
Teresse pinched him near one of his wounds. Sevha groaned and fell silent.
Legra, Eshu, and Tataka burst into laughter at the scene.
Just then, someone entered.
“Congratulations on your victory.”
It was Piétang, the Bishop of Blanc.
Sevha greeted, “It’s been a while, Bishop.”
“Indeed. I also bring greetings from Fernoka.”
“That strange fellow is still in Blanc…?”
At Sevha’s visible discomfort, Piétang gave a hollow laugh and pretended not to hear.
“In any case, I have come to see you today… to discuss what comes next.”
Piétang began by recounting recent events.
“Tito’s soldiers, who were stationed in Rasseu under the pretext of maintaining order, have returned to the Count’s domain.”
“They have good instincts, those dogs. If they’d stayed another day, the people would have beaten them to death.”
“Perhaps because their threat is gone, many have come to the temple, hoping I would ask you this.”
Piétang relayed their question.
“What will become of Blanc now?”
Everyone in the room looked at Sevha.
“First, we’ll have to restore the territory that was ravaged by the Count and the Tusks.”
Sevha stated the method simply. “You handle it, Magus. Just report back to me.”
“You’re entrusting it to Teresse, My Lord?” Eshu asked.
Piétang flinched at the name. “Teres…se?”
Assuming Piétang was only surprised to hear Teresse’s real name after she had used an alias, Sevha dismissed the bishop’s reaction and turned back to Eshu.
“I’m no good at desk work. In fact, it’s a disaster if I try. In Anse, my brother handled all domestic affairs.”
“I understand why you won’t do it, My Lord. But why Teresse?”
The reason it had to be Teresse?
In truth, there was no definite one. He just had a feeling from experience that she would do it well.
Unwilling to reveal such a vague belief, Sevha offered a more pragmatic reason.
“It’s the same reason I put her in charge of training the conscripts. If anyone complains about the restoration work, she can whip them without a second thought.”
Teresse stared at Sevha, then gave a wry snort.
Then she said, “Fine. I’ll grant your request.”
“It’s an order.”
“On one condition. Give me Hwin and Mary.”
Hwin, daughter of Viscount Garde. Mary, daughter of the innkeeper.
The selection was unexpected. Sevha’s eyes asked why.
“I saw the future with my magic. It’s the best choice.”
“Sometimes I think ‘magic,’ to you, just means, ‘It’s a pain to explain, so just nod your head.’”
“If that’s what you think, then you should just nod your head.”
Having decided to trust her, Sevha left the matter in her hands. He clicked his tongue and nodded.
With the territory’s restoration settled, Piétang asked the next question.
“What will you do about the succession to the marquisate?”
The Count had lost a great number of soldiers. The glory of subjugating the Carved Tusks belonged almost entirely to Sevha.
He no longer had any rivals.
But one problem remained.
“My grandfather… he’s still the same?”
Eshu nodded.
“What a headache.”
Only the Marquis had the official right to name an heir. But the Marquis was not of sound mind to do so.
If this continued, the Marquis could die before the matter was settled, and the succession issue would flare up again.
Sevha pondered this, knowing he had to find a way to be officially recognized as the heir.
Then, a solution came to him.
“I need to see Prince Duce.”
***
The Count’s Study in His Castle
“Where has everyone gone!” the Count roared in anger.
But only Tito and a few other nobles were there to receive his fury.
“Where are the other nobles! The ones who were always chattering before me, why aren’t they here!”
The remaining nobles looked at Tito, as if telling him to be the one to answer.
Tito muttered, “You damn dogs,” before replying.
“Recently, the bastard has put Viscount Garde’s daughter and a commoner girl to work in his office.”
“So what! What does it mean, him playing around with girls in his office!”
“It has meaning.”
Tito explained the significance of Hwin and Mary working in the office.
“The lesser nobles and the commoners see it as a sign that they will be favored.”
“What?”
Lesser nobles and commoners. And women, at that.
Their appointments had led the lesser nobles and commoners to believe the territory would be reorganized in their favor.
That was not all.
“Furthermore, Viscount Garde’s daughter has been sending letters to the lesser nobles.”
“Letters?”
“Telling them how quickly you fled from Garde Castle and how bravely the bastard tried to save it.”
“Th-Then…”
“All the lesser nobles are on the bastard’s side.”
The glory of the tournament, the credit for suppressing the invading Tusks—Sevha had taken it all.
The Count had lost the people’s hearts and the support of the lesser nobility.
“In this situation, the high-ranking nobles will be watching to see which way the wind blows.”
“Yes, my lor—”
Just then, a knight ran into the study.
“M-my lord Count. The young lord of Blanc has…”
“Bastard! Bastard! Bastaaaard!”
“The b-bastard has issued an order.”
“The bastard dares to give me an order?”
The Count unfolded the letter, which bore the le Blanc seal.
As soon as he read it, he collapsed into his chair.
Tito glanced at the letter’s contents and couldn’t help but laugh.
It read:
An additional tax shall be levied for the restoration of the territory. The tax rate will be higher for those of higher rank.
Should any complaints arise from the commoners during the collection period, the matter will be investigated by the Blanc Knights.
Tito was inwardly impressed.
Using a tax with a perfect justification, he could both weaken and threaten the high-ranking nobles who were still waiting on the sidelines. If they resisted or used underhanded methods like making others pay their taxes, he could use that as a pretext to purge them.
It was a truly wicked move.
“Why… why has it come to this! Why!”
For some reason, Tito was reminded of the demonic girl he had met in Rasseu.
But that wasn’t what mattered now. He stated their future course of action.
“My lord Count, now is the time to lay low.”
The Count’s eyes widened. He shot up from his seat and grabbed Tito by the collar.
“Lay low? Do you think that bastard will let me live!”
Tito answered calmly, “Yes. The bastard has no justification to purge you. You are officially the Marquis’s regent. Failing to do that job properly is not grounds for death.”
Without a just cause, he could avoid a purge, at least.
Tito hoped the Count would at least save his own life. More precisely, he hoped the head that paid his salary would remain attached to its shoulders.
But the Count was not content with mere survival. “If he can’t kill me right now, then there’s still a chance.”
“What? My lord, please reconsider…”
“The Marquis is senile! He can’t name an heir! So… so… I must write a letter to a prince!”
“To Prince Duce?”
“No.”
The Count’s face was half-crazed.
“To the real princes in the capital.”
***
The Temple in Rasseu
A silence fell over Sevha the moment he entered.
It was an uncomfortable silence for him. Unlike the quiet of the wild, this was a stillness forcibly made by people.
Where’s Prince Duce now…
When Sevha entered the chapel, he saw many people seated. Among them was Duce.
Sevha quietly sat down beside him.
Just then, Fernoka ascended the pulpit.
Why is Fernoka here?
Fernoka looked out at the congregation and saw Sevha and Duce sitting side by side.
A slight, amused smile touched his eyes, and he began speaking in a calm voice.
“Today, in place of Bishop Piétang… I would like to speak about two gods: Jestika, the Goddess of Knights and Justice, and Diaka, the Goddess of Hunters and Moderation.”
Fernoka began his story.
“When the gods walked the earth, Gerda, the Goddess of Birth and Prophetess, looked upon the world and lamented, ‘Ah, how fleeting.’
In the beginning, all things in the world were equal. So equal that no matter what one did or how one died, all were certain to be born again. And so all things lived and died aimlessly, only to be reborn and repeat the cycle.
Gerda could not bear this meaningless cycle. So, with a voice that shaped fate, she declared to the world:
‘Those who will enjoy eternal life! Those who will enter the cycle of rebirth! And those who will fall into eternal death! Now, a judgment shall be held to distinguish them! Fate shall become unfair! And birth shall have value!’
A judgment requires a judge.
Gerda decided to entrust the role of judge to one of her two children, Jestika or Diaka, and gave them a command.”
Fernoka uttered that command as he looked at Sevha and Duce, sitting side by side.
“Fight. The screams you cry as you battle one another, the blood you spill, will be the proof of your fate.”