Chapter 38

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 38
Chapter Title: A Sinking Ship
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#38

The concubine’s daughter, always wearing that arrogant smile. That despicable wench, born from the loins of a desert slave, defiling the throne.

Arsinoe.

“What can you expect from the daughter when the mother was like that. That’s why bloodlines are so terrifying. She must have ensnared the Grand General with what’s between her legs, too.”

He ran a hand through his hair, his touch agitated. The attendant watching him from the side tried to soothe him, his face dark.

“Please compose yourself, Your Excellency.”

“You think I can compose myself right now? If you had entered the council chamber and witnessed the sheer humiliation I endured, you would never say such a thing!”

The attendant stammered an apology and bowed his head. Rather than calming his anger, the sight only reminded him of his own position—lower than that wench—and fouled his mood even further.

Witten glared at him with blazing eyes, unable to contain his surging rage. He clenched his fist and slammed it down on the sofa.

“I knew I shouldn’t have trusted that Rutherford bitch from the moment they started scheming together. To do this in front of all the lords…! A Grand Tutor? What the hell is a Grand Tutor! Who would want to teach the child of such a vulgar wench!”

A Grand Tutor. The thought was still ludicrous.

He wouldn’t have felt this humiliated if she had simply said that allocating the duchy was her misjudgment and that she would entrust the Kill Duchy to Rutherford instead.

But no, that wench had to make a mockery of him by bestowing such a useless title.

“How dare she! What does she take me—the House of Witten—for, to do such a thing…!”

There was a time when he thought it wouldn’t be so bad to prop her up as a respectable queen, appreciating her for having executed Duke Kill.

No, he had even thought it would be quite advantageous for that wench to become queen.

She was just a young girl who knew nothing of the world, with no Prince Consort. He could play the part of a loyal subject, and once her reign was stable, he could even nominate himself as a candidate for her hand.

If he became her Prince Consort and ruled as the true power behind the throne, with the queen as his puppet…

His wife was conveniently dead, leaving him a single man, and he was still only forty-three.

He was in the perfect position to marry her. The fact that she was from the West was a bit of a shame, but her pretty face made it bearable.

Well… he had heard that desert women were flexible and not bad in bed. She might have been fun to play with.

…But now.

Now. What did that damn wench take him for…!

“You said there was contact from the Empire a few days ago?”

Clenching and unclenching his trembling fist, he barely managed to regain his composure. Seeing his master’s calmer demeanor, the attendant’s face brightened as he nodded.

“Yes. They contacted us about visiting under the pretext of inspecting the bridge… but considering one of the Crown Prince’s own aides made the approach, it seems there’s a deeper intention.”

“Crown Prince Alejandro… an ambitious one. He must be busy pulling the strings in Dopein, yet he’s already looking this way.”

Despite his cautious tone, a faint smile graced Witten’s lips. The Crown Prince’s intentions were as clear as day.

He had known the Empire was behind the war between Dopein and Antevasila even before Lucy had told him.

During his time as an ambassador, Witten had cultivated a personal relationship with the Crown Prince and had secretly maintained it ever since.

The Crown Prince, with his radiant looks inherited from the Empress, had grown into an impressively dashing man. Yet, behind his smiling face lurked a serpentine chill that was strangely intimidating every time they met.

“A pleasure to meet you, Lord Witten. I am Crown Prince Alejandro Viante de Mon Terra.”

The hand he offered for a shake was quite small, but his eyes, staring straight ahead, were reminiscent of a colossal beast.

From a young age, the Crown Prince had displayed extraordinary talent and ambition. He was a conqueror who yearned for the return of the First Great Imperial Era.

He was a man who sought to become Emperor to restore the age when most of the continent belonged to the Empire, unlike the present, where its territory had shrunk to half the continent.

“They’ve been praising him as a prodigy since he was a child, and seeing what he’s done, he’s certainly no ordinary man.”

He was different from the Emperor, who was mired in complacency and obsessed with women and wine.

Recently, he had become regent, running the Empire in place of the Emperor, who had stepped back from the front lines. Inciting Dopein to war, then after Antevasila’s fall, attacking Parnas…

…Yes.

The Crown Prince would provoke the three kingdoms, wait until they had killed each other and laid waste to everything, and then swallow all three nations whole.

Dopein probably thought the Empire was its ally.

It wouldn’t realize it was the main course, played by the Empire until the very end, only to be devoured.

He had seen through the Crown Prince’s ambitions long ago.

But… well.

Witten had always maintained the position of an observer, and despite his connection to the Crown Prince, he had no particular intention of forming a partnership with him. After all, living as the second-in-command behind Duke Kill wasn’t exactly uncomfortable.

But things were different now. Now that the damn wench had humiliated him, he had no desire to let her be.

“The Empire seems to have a great interest in Parnas. They casually asked if the news of a new queen ascending the throne in Parnas was true.”

The attendant lowered his voice, his face tense. Witten raised an eyebrow.

“I was the one who delivered that news. How bold of them to ask again. So, what was your reply?”

“I told them that since she hasn’t even had a coronation and her origins are a subject of much debate, opinions among the lords are divided.”

Witten let out a satisfied laugh at the honest answer. There wasn’t a single lie in it.

Witten crossed his arms, lost in thought. Through the carriage window, he saw the blonde woman from earlier setting up a stall in a corner of the market.

“The Crown Prince is testing the waters, it seems. What should I do…?”

Until now, he had believed that Walter Hyverge would protect Parnas one way or another, but seeing him so besotted with that wench, endorsing a woman with no proper lineage as queen, he could no longer see a future for this country.

They could call him an undefeated general or a god of war, but in the end, Walter was just a pawn moved by the king. No matter how skilled the hands, if the head is lacking, it’s all useless.

Parnas was a lost cause.

Duke Kill, the only one with the makings of a king, had fallen from grace. And Rutherford… that old pig would be too busy protecting his own territory.

Count Bubehol? That old man would probably die of old age before the coronation.

“There’s just no decent talent.”

This country had no one fit to be king.

Not that he intended to become king himself. Ascending to the highest position might seem glamorous, but it meant living with countless responsibilities and worries. The only reward was the glory of being number one.

In Witten’s view, it was an utterly irrational position.

Nothing was more comfortable than quietly holding one’s place under capable men. Why would anyone go out of their way to seek titles like king, just to show off?

The only reason he had wanted the Kill Duchy was for the money.

He couldn’t care less about being a governor or anything else; he was only tempted by the enormous profits it generated. The only two things that moved him were whether something was profitable or not.

“There’s no need to stay on a sinking ship.”

There was nothing more to gain by fawning over Arsinoe.

In that case, wouldn’t it be more rational to attach himself to a new power and lay the groundwork?

No matter how capable Walter Hyverge was, he couldn’t fight the Empire alone.

If the country was destined to fall anyway, it was right to abandon it now and ride the new current. Having reached a conclusion, his mind felt much clearer.

“It pains my heart to think of abandoning my country.”

He pressed a hand to his chest and murmured with a sad face. The attendant opened his mouth to offer words of comfort, but realizing Witten’s gesture was purely theatrical, he changed his expression and chuckled.

“You’ve made a wise decision, Your Excellency. Weren’t you planning to contact the Empire as soon as you heard of the king’s death anyway?”

“That was just… I was worried that if Duke Kill became king, he might oust me since he found me disagreeable, so I was just securing an escape route in advance. I never thought I’d end up joining hands with the Empire like this.”

“Parnas won’t last long, even with a new ruler.”

It was amusing how the attendant parroted the words he himself had once said. Witten wiped the sad expression from his face and let out a sneer.

“If I had known it would come to this, I would have been better off leaking secrets to the Empire as soon as the former king died.”

Patriotism, loyalty—they were all just tools of indoctrination for controlling the common folk. He wasn’t foolish enough to be swayed by such emotions.

In a short life, when there’s not enough time to do what you want, why chase after ideals for some fleeting glory?

Witten’s lips twisted as he gave his order.

“The Crown Prince’s aide, you said. Arrange a meeting as soon as possible. And make sure to carefully ascertain what they want.”

“Understood, Your Excellency.”

“Oh, and one more thing.”

He opened the carriage window and called for the coachman.

The carriage stopped, and Witten pointed toward the inner part of the city.

“There. That blonde wench inside, drag her to the mansion.”

“Do you mean the western girl sitting in front of that stall, sir?”

“Yes.”

He turned his gaze back inside the carriage and sank deep into the sofa. A twisted smile played on his lips as he added another remark.

“She looks enough like that other wench to be perfect for relieving some stress. Have her washed thoroughly and sent to my bedchamber tonight.”

⚜ ⚜ ⚜

Parnas had a total of four command headquarters.

The Central Command, adjacent to the capital, was the core. There were also headquarters in the east, west, and south, each responsible for its respective region. The north lacked a command post because Mt. Noman, commonly known as the Twin Mountains, traversed the land like a divider, making a border unnecessary.

However, below the Twin Mountains, right at the edge of the capital and bordering the Kill Duchy, there was a brigade so ridiculously small it could hardly be called a military unit.

The barracks, located in a high-altitude area, were bitterly cold regardless of the season, a characteristic of its geography. The reason for building barracks in such a bleak and frigid place was for the Raphi, who detested the heat.

The post, consisting of just two modest buildings, was an outpost of the Nuthatch Corps, used not for guarding against enemies or for strategic purposes, but as a residential area for the Raphi.

There were twelve members in total.

The captain was Whees Bomdeman, the leader of the 8th Squad and the head of the Raphi soldiers.

“Captain—!”

Whees, who had soared high enough to be near the clouds, heard the shout from the post and began a slow descent.