Chapter 45 : Chapter 45
Chapter 45
It was more of a massacre than a battle.
The knights, who were helplessly defeated by the Rangers' arrows, fell powerlessly to the crescent moon-like curved swords.
The Rangers thoroughly ravaged the knights, as if to avenge their past sorrows.
The only survivor in that gruesome space was Treon, the eldest son of Obsol.
"You filthy bastards!
Do you know who I am!
I am the—!"
Ian approached the man who, even while pinned down by the Rangers with his arms held, lifted his head and bellowed.
"Treon, the eldest son of Obsol.
The moron who invaded the western forest by hiring elf hunters.
I was hoping the count was the one who hired the hunters, but it's a shame."
If the count had been here, I would have cut off his head, wrapped it nicely, and sent it as a gift to the royal family.
No matter how I thought about it, it was a pity.
"Who are you!"
"Me?
The owner of the forest you invaded."
Treon's eyes, finally recognizing him, trembled.
"Y-Young Lord?
W-why are you here!"
"Why, you ask?
I came to catch bandits, of course."
With those words, Ian struck the back of Treon's head, knocking him out, and then headed to Lier with light steps.
The tasks he had to do were now finished.
All he had to do was wait for the seeds he had leisurely sown to sprout.
* * *
A week later.
Unlike Ian, who was enjoying some rare time alone by helping with his overdue training and the training of the new recruits, Obsol was having an unprecedentedly busy time.
"It's been a week already!
Where in the world has Treon gone!"
Crash!
Even though the thrown ashtray hit his head and tobacco ash covered his face, the knight commander of the Centaur did not even flinch as he opened his mouth.
"I apologize."
There was no way the commander, who was guarding the border with Lyt as ordered, would know Treon's location.
Both the commander and the count knew that he was just a target for the count's anger.
"Honestly!
There's not a single thing going right in this domain right now!
With the family on the brink of collapse, what the hell is that Treon doing, wandering around!"
"I will send out soldiers to search for him again."
Even at the answer that had been repeated for a week, the count no longer got angry and just nodded his head.
Berating the commander now wouldn't change anything, and there were plenty of problems more important than his son's wandering piled up in the domain.
"How are Merchen and Lyt?"
"It is said that Merchen is deploying more and more soldiers to the border.
It doesn't seem like anything will happen right away, but it looks like they are truly preparing for war……."
"Those crazy bastards!
What the hell kind of drugs are those bastards on to suddenly act like this!"
The count, unaware that Obsol was being suspected because of the misunderstanding of Thierre, the third son of Merchen, was on the verge of going mad with frustration at Merchen's sudden change of attitude.
"Lyt, what about the Lyt bastards?"
"They surprisingly haven't deployed many troops, but it's certain that they are preparing for war.
More importantly, it is said that an enormous amount of food is being moved throughout the domain for some reason."
"Ugh!
Every single one of them is out of their minds!"
Even after clenching his fists and slamming the desk, his anger did not subside.
The reason Lyt was suddenly moving food was probably because they had monopolized the trade with the Moner family.
To monopolize the trade with the Moner family, which was like the lifeline of the three domains.
The Lyt bastards had crossed the line, by a long shot.
"We need to start the mediation as soon as possible.
I need to at least see the faces of the two counts to have a conversation, but neither Lyt nor Merchen are even taking my calls right now."
"Then when will His Highness the Prince……?"
"This weekend."
The count looked at the commander with a sharp gaze.
"If the prince fails to mediate, a domain war must begin at the same time.
The House of Obsol cannot collapse like this."
If the Moner family refused to trade with Obsol until the end, there was only one way left.
To attack Lyt and prevent them from supplying food to the Moner family.
"Lead all the domain's forces and have them stand by at the domain's border.
I'll have to teach Lyt that death is the only thing for traitors."
"Yes!"
The commander, who had saluted sharply, left, and the butler who had been listening to their conversation approached.
"What are you planning to do if the prince sides with the Moner family until the end?"
"Hehehe… I received a message from the first prince.
It seems the matter is serious enough that the King has decided to dispatch one more mediator."
"Then will the first prince himself……!"
"No, it wouldn't look good to send the first prince on a mission given to the second prince, so he said he sent someone else."
The count, who had been spending sleepless nights with worry since the prince's visit to the domain, said with a confident smile for the first time in a while.
"The Marquess, Marquess Dmitry is coming."
* * *
"Young master, the prince has sent a letter."
Reina approached Ian, who was lying on the floor of the training ground from mana exhaustion as usual, and handed him a letter sealed with the royal family's insignia.
It was a notification, more than anything else, stating that due to unavoidable circumstances, the mediation meeting would begin this weekend and he was to attend.
Ian, who had read the letter to the end, handed it back to Reina and chuckled.
"To start the meeting this weekend, unavoidably, to accommodate everyone's schedule……."
It might seem unpleasant at first glance, being unilaterally notified of the meeting time, but Ian knew this was a hint the prince was trying to give.
Lyt, which had not cut off trade, had no problems with the Moner family, so they would gladly attend the meeting, and Merchen and Obsol, whose trade had been unilaterally cut off, would have no choice but to accommodate the Moner family's schedule.
Then, the only one left to 'accommodate the schedule' for was the royal family.
And not the prince who was already in Obsol, but someone else.
"Someone other than the prince is coming, someone even Trimia can't treat carelessly."
As he staggered to his feet, Reina quickly came to support him and asked.
"Someone even His Highness the Prince can't treat carelessly, who could that be?"
"Well, what's important isn't who comes, but that we don't lose regardless of who comes."
No matter who came, they couldn't change the outcome of a battle that had already been decided.
"Still, just in case, shall we prepare one more joker?"
* * *
The weekend the meeting began.
At the earnest request of Obsol, who had requested the mediation, the first meeting between the four domains was held in Obsol.
It was a scheme to align with the other lords before the young lord arrived, but until an hour before the meeting started, no one had visited the count's castle.
The fact that Lyt and Merchen, who knew that it would be impossible to align the opinions of the three domains if not now, still hadn't shown up was an expression of their intention to truly not associate with Obsol.
"Stupid fools!
They don't even know who will be coming here!"
Unlike his confident shout, the count, who was nervously biting his nails from the fear that had crept up to his throat, shot up from his seat.
"Hey!
The Marquess, has the Marquess arrived yet?!"
At the question he had heard dozens of times already, the butler approached and said.
"He has not arrived yet.
Isn't the Marquess a very busy person?
I have contacted the Magic Tower to inform us as soon as he arrives here, so you need not worry."
Even at the butler's words, the count's anxiety did not subside, and he kept rubbing his face with his hands.
"The prince?"
"He went out this morning, saying he had to greet the young lord."
"What?!"
A headache rushed in with the surging irritation.
Lyt and Merchen were all madmen, but among them, the truly mad ones were the damn young lord and the prince.
The young lord who had suddenly demanded his head when they met to negotiate was no ordinary madman, but he wasn't as bad as the prince who had come to see him every day since then, urging him to accept the negotiation.
"It's okay.
When the Marquess arrives, he will surely push for the investigation to proceed, whether that bastard likes it or not.
I'll just have to plant some evidence that will be helpful to our side, depending on the situation……."
As the count was making his future plans, the butler approached and announced the long-awaited arrival of the marquess.
* * *
"…There's no one here."
Noticing the blatant displeasure in Marquess Dmitry's voice upon arriving at the meeting room, the count quickly said.
"Th-they are all on their way.
I will go and get them when the meeting is ready, so please rest for a moment……."
The marquess, who stopped the count with a wave of his hand, went to the seat with his name on it, sat down, and said.
"That's enough.
What's the use of caring about formalities in a place where the second prince is also present.
I'd rather wait here."
"Then my report at least……."
He tried to create a favorable situation in the empty room, but the marquess coldly shook his head.
"I've read all the reports.
I seem to know all the information I need to know, so let's proceed when everyone is gathered."
"If you have any questions, I can……."
"Count, even if you don't go out of your way to say more, I will make a decision for the sake of the kingdom.
If you have time, you should think of a way to persuade Count Lyt and Count Merchen."
The marquess was a representative of the royalist faction and had the largest faction among the nobles who supported the first prince.
The decision for the sake of the kingdom that he spoke of was bound to be disadvantageous to the Moner family.
The count, a smile blooming on his face, bowed his head deeply and expressed his gratitude.
"Thank you, Marquess.
Thanks to you, I feel like I can relieve a great deal of my worries."
"What is there to thank me for.
I am merely carrying out the mission given to me by the King."
As the two were talking, a servant announced the arrival of the two lords.
"The rightful ruler of the Lyt domain and the master of the House of Lyt, Count Lyt, enters!"
"The rightful ruler of the Merchen domain and the master of the House of Merchen, Count Merchen, enters!"
The two who entered the meeting room did not even make eye contact with Count Obsol and bowed to the marquess.
"Lyt and Merchen greet Marquess Dmitry, the pillar of the Reime Kingdom."
"We did not know the Marquess would be here before us.
We apologize for being late."
"…Yes, it's a relief that everyone seems to be doing well.
Please, have a seat."
Just as the marquess, who hadn't expected the two counts to enter together, was hesitating, another sound echoed from the door.
"The vanguard who protects the Demonic Beast forest and the master of the Demonic Beast forest, the young lord of the Moner family who protects the northern part of the Reime Kingdom, enters!"
With jet-black hair, a stiff back even in front of the marquess, and eyes that were indifferent yet arrogant, Ian walked confidently into the meeting room.
At the same time, a clamor of voices could be heard from outside.
"Hic!
The great prince of the Reime Kingdom……!"
"It's fine, it's fine, there's no one here who doesn't know me."
The prince, who had stopped the servant's introduction, followed Ian inside.
"Geez, I told you not to go first!"
"Your Highness, it is customary for the subordinate to enter first and wait for the superior.
Since it has come to this, how about you wait outside for about an hour?"
Ian, deliberately ignoring the prince who was looking at him as if he were being too harsh, turned his head and looked at the counts and the marquess.
"Marquess, it seems everyone is here, shall we begin now?"
"…Let's do that."
At Count Obsol's gesture, a servant closed the door.
As Ian and the prince sat in their respective seats, the marquess, with a serious expression, opened his mouth.
"The King is showing great interest in this matter.
If a problem arises with the Moner family, which protects the north, hardship will befall the entire kingdom.
He wishes for an amicable agreement by all means."
The marquess's gaze, which had swept over the three counts, fixed on Ian.
"Before we begin the mediation, we must make this clear first.
Young Lord, you have not yet held your succession ceremony, so you are not even a noble, and you are only acting as regent for the management of the domain… do you really have the qualifications to be in this seat?"
A confident sneer hung on the marquess's lips.