Chapter 109

The Hunt of Arrogance

“Assist in restoring King Alessandro of Parvije to the throne. If he succeeds in reclaiming his rightful position, I will arrange a marriage alliance between the one who contributes the most and the Kormilius lineage.”

Ulrich’s proclamation spread across the central regions of the empire through messengers.

The response was immediate and overwhelming. Secular lords who received the proclamation each sent envoys to verify its authenticity.
Who is Carmelo?
Is he in a position to make such a promise?
Is helping with the restoration enough?

The questions were identical to those Count Trine of Schnautfen had asked Ulrich. Naturally, the answers were the same—and so were the follow-up measures. The envoys hurriedly summoned their masters.

“I heard this time it’s a marquis… uh… Juane, was it?”

Fritz spoke as he walked along the outer wall.

“Juane? Not Juane—Huarne?”

“Ah, right. I heard it was Marquis Huarne Makleng.”

“Why him?”

Roberta looked out beyond the walls.

“Huarne is one of the places we avoided. We said it was dangerous since they were on Jokuster’s side.”

Outside the city, flags fluttered in camps established by the forces of various lords. At a glance, there were dozens of banners, but comparatively few soldiers.

They were advance parties. The lords had only brought a portion of their retainers. In preparation for the main forces that would soon arrive, they had claimed large areas and planted their banners in the center to mark their territory. Thanks to that, it was easy to distinguish the different banners.

“Yeah, that’s right. There were rumors they were negotiating a marriage alliance with the imperial family.”

They had heard that rumor just a few days after beginning their journey with Alessandro. They had needed to pass through the marquisate to reach Schnautfen, but unexpected news had arrived—Jokuster had proposed a marriage alliance to win over Marquis Makleng.

They had detoured to avoid trouble, yet now the banner of the Huarne family was fluttering below.

“Do you think the rumor was false?”

“Who knows,” Roberta muttered. Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.

“If they can mix blood with either Jokuster or Kormilius, the choice seems obvious.”

“Well… that’s true. People believe that lineage is sacred.”

People of the world believed in the divine blood flowing through Kormilius. And the secular lords understood better than anyone the authority that belief carried.

If an ordinary lord were to overthrow his ruler, sell his own people into slavery, or attack his neighbors, he would be condemned and eventually deposed.

But if it were Kormilius, it would be different. He wouldn’t even be criticized. The blood in his veins traced back to Hestio. Even if, after countless generations, it was uncertain whether even a drop of that blood remained, the lineage alone granted immunity.

Who wouldn’t envy that? For those who had been hesitating—half-committing or watching from the sidelines—it was an offer they could not refuse.

“The real issue is whether Kormilius will accept it.”

“Ah…” Fritz nodded.

“We’ve never heard Ulrich speak about that before… They might oppose it this time as well.”

“They won’t openly oppose it. Ulrich must have had grounds for making that promise.”

Kormilius knew Ulrich’s true identity. They likely knew much of his ancient past that even Roberta did not. Among those memories, Carmelo would surely be included. And since Ulrich had issued the proclamation under that name, they would recognize it as a promise made by their own ancestor.

Would they really reject it, when the very ancestor they longed for stepped forward to resolve the matter?

The two descended from the wall and headed into the garden.

In an open area near the outskirts, Alessandro stood with several guards.

He appeared to have been sparring, holding a sword—but he alone was dressed lightly. Snow drifted down from the gray sky, yet he wore short sleeves. Even though his opponent was a guard fully clad in armor, Alessandro wore nothing over his clothes.

The guard, helmeted, looked troubled.

“Your Majesty…” he began, as if about to suggest he wear proper protection.

But before he could continue, Alessandro rushed forward.

The guard stepped back and blocked the attack. With a shout, Alessandro raised his sword high with both hands and brought it down. The guard continued to block and deflect while retreating. The more he retreated, the louder Alessandro’s shouts became, and the larger his movements grew—but the guard’s response remained the same.

“Stop just blocking and counterattack!” Alessandro snapped.

Only then did the guard hesitate before thrusting his sword—only for it to be easily deflected.

The outcome had been decided from the start. The guard lacked fighting spirit. Even though Alessandro deliberately exposed openings with exaggerated movements, the guard barely countered. Since his opponent was his lord, he only pretended to attack, his movements breaking in hesitation.

Eventually, Alessandro’s blade touched the guard’s neck.

Despite his one-sided victory, Alessandro looked irritated.

“At this rate, I’ll just pick up bad habits.”

Letting out a long breath, he turned to Fritz and Roberta.

“It can’t be helped. Who would dare point a sword at Your Majesty?”

“Who? There are plenty who would.”

Snorting, Alessandro accepted a teacup from a servant.

“Where’s the old man?”

“Lord Ulrich is receiving guests.”

“Not a single quiet day, huh.”

He took a sip, then rinsed his mouth with the rest and spat it onto the ground.

“Did you check outside? It looked pretty lively. How many have gathered by now?”

Roberta hesitated briefly before answering.

“I’m not certain, but it must be well over two thousand.”

“It hasn’t even been long since the messengers were sent…”

“They’re only advance forces. The numbers will grow even more.”

“By spring, we could have tens of thousands.”

Judging by the trend, that seemed likely. Each day, the number of soldiers stationed outside the city increased.

Just a few days ago, there hadn’t even been a thousand. But this morning, it had more than doubled. Hundreds were arriving each day, and the rate of increase was accelerating.

Ulrich had spread his proclamation throughout the central empire. Excluding troops needed to face Jokuster directly or guard borders, gathering tens of thousands would not be difficult—given enough time.

“…Or not?”

Alessandro fixed his gaze on Fritz.

Was there something he wanted to say? Hesitation flickered across Fritz’s face.

“I mentioned the same thing to Lord Ulrich… but he said he won’t wait until spring.”

“He plans to march in winter? That means before spring, right?”

“Yes. That’s what he said.”

Tilting his head to the side, Alessandro scratched the back of his neck.

“Why? It’s too early. We haven’t gathered enough troops, and even if we march now, it’ll be midwinter by the time we reach Parvije. Fighting while enduring the cold is hell. He’s not thinking winter is nothing just because he’s from the north, is he?”

“I don’t think so. More likely… he believes we don’t have the luxury of time. The larger the war becomes, the more it strays from the objective.”

“What do you mean?” Alessandro frowned at her.

“If we wait until spring, our forces will steadily grow. But the same goes for Parvije. And if the empire intervenes as well, the situation will become even more complicated.”

Ulrich was helping Alessandro reclaim the throne to aid Kormilius—to stop Jokuster and the anti-divine faction.

But the important point was not the restoration itself. Even if he reclaimed the throne, it would be meaningless if their forces suffered heavy losses. The goal was to regain the throne while preserving the strength of both Kormilius and Parvije.

If Parvije were to break away from Kormilius and even clash with them, that would be the ideal outcome for Jokuster and the anti-divine faction—just like what they had attempted in the Langen bishopric.

“I’m not sure things will go that way.”

After hearing her explanation, Alessandro rested his chin on his hand, frowning.

“That old man’s got another trick up his sleeve, doesn’t he?”

“I’m not sure… That’s only speculation.”

He snorted and picked up the sword his sparring partner had dropped.

“Well, it’s not like I’m in a position to nitpick. I can’t do anything on my own. Even this whole thing—my name’s just being used. The one gathering people is that old man with too many names, Ulrich or Carmelo or whatever. It’s not like I have any other options. As long as he helps me reclaim what was taken from me, I don’t care what he’s hiding.”

Roberta accepted the sword he handed her.

“Besides, thinking about all that doesn’t help me anyway.”

Saying it was better to loosen up his body instead, he pointed the blade at her.

“…You’re quite straightforward, Your Majesty.”

“You’re not mocking me for being simple, are you?”

“Not at all. How could I dare?”

As Roberta took her stance, Alessandro kicked off the ground and charged.

Perhaps he thought she would hesitate. His movements were large, almost as if saying, ‘Aim here.’ After a wide horizontal swing, his side was fully exposed. She thrust without hesitation.

Startled, he jumped back. He retreated so hastily that he nearly stumbled. If she had followed up with another thrust, he would have fallen then and there.

“Yeah, that’s how you should do it.”

Alessandro grinned and reset his stance.

“Where were you before you were assigned to Dithmarschen?”

“I served as a regular priest at the Great Temple of Nua.”

This time, Roberta kicked off the ground. Like Alessandro had done, she made a large sweeping strike. He didn’t dodge. Tilting his sword to deflect it, he instead met her blade head-on with a clang.

“A regular priest? And before that?”

“I trained as an apprentice priest at the Congregation for Doctrine.”

“The Congregation for Doctrine? Sounds like your family must’ve spent quite a bit of money.”

The two created distance between them.

“No. I was offered to the temple.”

Just as he was about to lean forward and lunge again, Alessandro paused.

“That’s unexpected. Then… you don’t know anything about your parents?”

“I’ve heard about my mother, but I’ve never seen her.”

“I figured you came from some distinguished family.”

“It would be hard to think a mere priest would be beside someone like Ulrich without reason.”

“That too, but…”

He stared at her.

“There’s a certain feeling about you. How should I put it… aristocratic, maybe.”

“That can’t be,” Roberta replied with a faint smile.

Her mother was Ulrich’s adopted daughter—Adelaide. She didn’t know how she became his daughter or what her origins were, but they couldn’t have been remarkable.

If she had been of noble birth, she would never have ended up in the hands of a man living in seclusion in a remote place like Dithmarschen.

The same likely applied to her father. She had never heard anything about him, but he couldn’t have been anyone notable. If he had been, would she have been abandoned at a temple?

Alessandro hesitated as if trying to recall something, then turned his head.

A servant approached at a quick pace.

“Lord Carmelo is calling for you.”

“For us?”

“Yes. He asked that all three of you come.”

Since issuing the proclamation, Ulrich had not once called for the three of them.

Too many people were seeking out Carmelo. He could not ignore their summons. All kinds of factions had gathered under a single proclamation. Without control, they would be no better than a band of thieves. He had to manage them.

Because of that, not only had he not called for them, they had barely even seen him. They had simply passed the time aimlessly, like a ship waiting at anchor for departure.

Roberta followed the servant, walking along the path now lightly covered with snow.