Chapter 66 : Chapter 66
Summer had come to Blanc.
Its proximity to the Frost Mountains, which radiated a year-round chill, kept the worst of the heat at bay. But the office in Rasseu Castle offered no escape from the summer’s intensity.
“Get out, dammit!”
Teresse, poring over countless documents at her desk, finally lost her patience and snapped.
Before her, Sevha was in the middle of the office, doing push-ups.
“Hah… hah… hah… Get out? This is my office.”
“You’ve never even sat at this desk!”
Hwin and Mary, who were assisting Teresse, simply thought, There they go again, and nonchalantly stacked more documents on the desk.
Sevha stopped his exercise and rose to face her. “Good. I’m perfectly recovered.”
“Then how about some thanks? I’m the one who healed you, and I’m the one putting this territory back together!”
“Thank you.”
“You are so infuriating!”
“My, my. If such faint praise won’t do, then allow me to commend you properly, my lady.”
Several months had passed since the frenzied banquet.
Sevha’s—or more accurately, Teresse’s—abilities were formidable.
“First, you didn’t distribute the confiscated lands to the vassals, nor did you create new ones. How greedy of you.”
The domains of the purged nobles were now governed by administrators from the Blanc Knights, acting on Sevha’s behalf. In effect, more than half of the Blanc Territory was under his direct rule.
He now possessed a power that the surviving nobles could not resist, even if they united.
“Is that all? Look! Look at this office!”
The office was filled with youths like Hwin and Mary, who were not of great status.
Teresse now held the official title of Chamberlain. She had recruited and trained them under the guise of being her attendants, and together they managed the territory’s internal affairs.
“Thanks to them, a new faction has emerged to check the old guard of Blanc. How cunning. And also…”
Teresse gave him a spiteful smile. “My Lord Marquis, what are you talking about? The only reason this office is full of young men and women is to suit your tastes for nightly games, is it not?”
Sevha immediately reacted with a voice full of indignation.
“Hell! Who started that damn rumor? That because I’m the young master of the pleasure district, I enjoy nightly games with everyone? That I’ve gathered young men and women in my office for that purpose? Drag them here at once! I’ll have them write novels in the dungeon for the rest of their lives!”
“Of course. It’s a false rumor. You’re no longer the brothel lord. You’re That Blanc now.”
That Blanc. Sevha’s new nickname.
At once, Sevha threw his hands up in surrender and turned his back.
“I lose! I’ll get out. Just don’t talk about that name!”
For all their bickering, Teresse clearly enjoyed her conversations with Sevha.
She smiled as she replied, “Hurry up and get out. And don’t go hunting, Hunter.”
“Yes, yes. I’ll take Legra and go on an inspection, Magus.”
When Sevha went out to the castle courtyard, Legra was recording the names of a group of shabbily dressed people.
“Legra! Let’s go hunting!”
Legra sighed as if to say, Not this again, and jogged over to Sevha. Shri stopped circling in the sky and swiftly landed on Legra’s shoulder.
“Can’t today. I’m busy.”
“Busy with what?”
“More have arrived. I have to verify their identities.”
Sevha looked at the people Legra had been dealing with. The moment they saw him, their faces filled with emotion, and they bowed respectfully.
“More refugees from Anse, I see.”
Whether it was because of the song Sevha had spread or something Baren was doing behind the scenes, the refugees of Anse continued to stream into Blanc.
“Anyway, I’m too busy to go hunting. Or would you like to help me work?”
“I’ll go on an inspection instead of hunting.”
“Don’t be like that, help—!”
“Well, good luck!”
Sevha scurried out of the inner castle before Legra could grab him. Shri took off and followed, landing on Sevha’s shoulder.
“Shri. How many do you think survived from Anse?”
Not understanding human speech, the bird just squeaked a couple of times.
Sevha gave a wry smile, feeling foolish for expecting an answer from a hawk.
“It would be good if many of them survived. The problem is… I don’t know what will happen with all these refugees pouring into Blanc.”
As Sevha looked ahead, the city between the inner and outer castle walls was overflowing with life. The vitality was partly because the territory was being rebuilt with the assets confiscated from the recently purged nobles, but that was not the only reason.
“Vega!”
When Sevha reached a recently built street, he found Vega in the middle of the road. She was flanked on both sides by buildings of all architectural styles.
“Hawk. Out for a stroll again?”
“Call it an inspection. The street seems to have gotten wider.”
“They keep coming.”
The street was crowded with countless other races.
Some looked like a mix of human and animal. Some were twice the height of a human. Others had human forms but with horns and tails.
The reason for the growing number of other races in Blanc, especially in Rasseu, was the Broken Tusk Tribe. When the rumor spread that Sevha had accepted them, other races from all over the continent came to settle in Blanc.
“The majority are former slaves, aren’t they?”
“Yes. When Tataka told me, I thought he was exaggerating, but it’s truly difficult to live outside the Great Plains if you’re not human.”
Vega clicked her tongue, her expression bitter.
“And Hawk, the largest number are escaped slaves from the Empire.”
“That’s what the Magus says. The Empire sees other races as property or livestock.”
“So be careful. From the Empire’s perspective, Blanc is a thief stealing their property. They might make a move against you.”
At Vega’s warning, Sevha let his fury show for a moment, his fangs bared.
“Let them try.”
Seeing his expression, Vega muttered softly, “Just like Tataka said. You’ve become a little more honest.”
Just then, a procession of wagons entered the street. Leading them was a short, childlike man with long ears. Upon seeing Sevha, the man stopped the procession and trotted over.
“My, my! If it isn’t the lord himself!”
The man, despite his childlike appearance, spoke with the strange affectation of an old man as he introduced himself.
“I am the head of the Manomano Company, Manomano!”
Manomano rubbed his hands together like a true merchant and gave a slick smile. Sevha immediately understood the reason for the discrepancy between the man’s appearance and his demeanor.
“Smallshoe Tribe?”
“Oh, my lord! To call us by that name instead of ‘Dwarves’! There is a reason so many other races gather under you!”
Unlike Sevha, Vega looked at Manomano with curiosity. “Smallshoe Tribe?”
“You must be from the Great Plains! I understand! Most of our people live near the Spirit Lake!”
Manomano cleared his throat with an “Ahem!” and began to explain.
“The Smallshoes were the first race to invent shoes in the Mythical Age!”
“Really? You people created shoes?”
“Indeed! That is how skilled we are with our hands! We, the Smallshoe Tribe!”
Sevha nodded. The Smallshoe Tribe was certainly skilled with their hands.
So skilled that I cut off quite a few of their wrists back in Anse.
Knowing that the “skill of the Smallshoe Tribe” had multiple meanings, Sevha decided to probe Manomano a little.
He asked, “Where is the Manomano Company based?”
“We are based in the City Alliance!”
“You’ve come a long way.”
“What does distance matter? When your lordship’s reputation is so great…!”
Manomano showered Sevha with all sorts of flattery before shouting loudly, “As expected of The Frenzied Blanc!”
Sevha’s face immediately soured. He grabbed Manomano by the scruff of his neck and lifted him.
“W-why are you doing this?”
“Don’t say that.”
“Say what?”
“The Frenzied…”
“The Frenzied Blanc?”
“Yes! That!”
The Frenzied Blanc. That was the nickname Sevha had acquired after the purge.
“It… it sounds like a name children use when they play house. I don’t like it.”
“Many people like it, though. The Elves especially love it. They burst out laughing the moment they hear ‘The Frenzied Blanc’!”
“Aren’t they just laughing at me?”
Manomano nodded as if he understood, then leaned in close to Sevha. He smiled slyly.
“In any case, my lord. Might you have any good trades available? Among all the companies that have come to Blanc, there is none as great as mine.”
“You Smallshoe… you have black hearts, for all your childlike faces.”
“My heart is black because I am a merchant.”
Sevha had dealt with countless merchants on the Great Road. Knowing they were not to be trusted, he gave a noncommittal reply.
“I’ll keep it in mind.”
Manomano understood the meaning of those words but showed no sign of it, answering politely, “Yes. I plan to do business in Rasseu for some time, so please feel free to seek me out.”
With that, Sevha parted ways with Vega and Manomano and climbed atop the outer castle wall. In the distance, he could see the Frost Mountains.
“So far. So far away.”
The mountains were distant, and the path back to his home beyond them felt even more so.
He had taken Blanc, but he had yet to receive official permission for succession from the Royal Family. Even if he secured Blanc completely, this amount of power was not enough for his return, nor for his revenge.
Realizing this, Sevha ground his teeth.
But that would not change reality. He calmed himself and considered the problem.
“I need something… something to change the situation dramatically.”
Just then, Shri, perched on Sevha’s shoulder, whipped its head toward the castle. As if sensing something wrong, it let out a squawk and flew off.
Sensing something amiss from Shri’s behavior, Sevha hurried back. The courtyard was empty; not even Legra was there.
Feeling a greater sense of unease, Sevha entered the castle.
The moment he set foot in the great hall of Rasseu Castle, someone came rolling toward him.
“C-calm down…!”
It was Duce. Sevha looked past him into the hall. The knights were staring blankly at the top of the stairs.
“What in the…?”
“Lord Sevha!” Legra ran up to him and yelled, “Please, try to stop that woman!”
Sevha looked up the stairs and saw a woman standing there. She was in a dress, her hair pinned up, with the appearance of a proper and chaste noblewoman. And yet, her dress was torn, exposing one leg, and she had a spear slung over her shoulder.
“Who is that woman?”
Duce groaned and pulled himself to his feet. “Would you help me calm her down?”
“I asked who she is.”
Duce gave an awkward smile and said, “My wife.”
“That woman is… what?”
While Sevha’s mind reeled, the woman slowly descended the stairs.
“So you are The Frenzied Blanc who has lured my husband into your hideous nightly games.”
She spoke in a perfectly polite tone, while expertly spinning the spear before slamming its butt onto the floor.
“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am the wife of Duce Barsh and the mother of his two children. I am also the fifth and youngest sister of the current Knight of the Lance.”
Charlotte offered a perfectly chaste and elegant curtsy, a gesture completely at odds with the spear in her hand.
“My name is Charlotte van Netherven.”