A Mercenary’s Rebirth Among Nobles — Chapter 76

Chapter 76

‘Did‌‌ I hear that‌‍⁠ wrong?’

For⁠ a commoner to‌⁠ give a knight⁠ an order to⁠ withdraw isn’t unheard‌⁠‌ of.

Unless⁠‍ it’s a high-ranking‌ guest, it’s normal‍ to announce the⁠ visit through a servant. If the‍‍ master refuses the‌ meeting, the servant⁠‍ simply delivers the‍⁠ message.

But⁠ that’s when acting‌ as a mere⁠ messenger. If he‌‍‍ doesn’t even announce⁠⁠ the visit and,‌‌⁠ on top of‌‍ that, allows himself to mock someone‍‌ on his own,‌ that’s a different‍ matter.

“…What the hell did you just say?‍ No, more importantly,⁠‌ why are you‌ deciding on your‌‌ own without even⁠‌⁠ stating the reason for the visit?”‌

“Because⁠⁠‍ the young master‌ already made it clear beforehand. I won’t repeat myself.‍ Please leave quietly⁠ and do not‌ cause a disturbance.”‌

“You‌‍ damn lunatic!”

Overflowing⁠‌ with rage, Palmir‌⁠⁠ drew his sword almost without realizing‌‌ it.

In‌ that moment, he‍‍ thought he might‍‌ have made a mistake, but he⁠⁠‍ soon realized the situation wasn’t bad at all.

In‍‍‍ fact, he needed⁠‍⁠ a pretext to‍‌‍ gain the upper‍ hand before any‍⁠ negotiation, and that⁠⁠ reason had just⁠⁠ appeared.

‘He’s‌ one of the‌ men Lucian brought‍ to the north. His rank is barely that of‌‍ a captain of‌‍⁠ ten, but if‌‌ he came all⁠⁠ the way here⁠⁠ with him, he⁠‌‌ must be a close subordinate or‌‍ someone he trusts.’‍

He‍ wouldn’t be an‍ expendable piece that‌ could be discarded‍‍‌ without consequences.

If⁠ Palmir tried to⁠‍‍ kill this insolent fool, Lucian would undoubtedly come out⁠ to stop him.⁠‌‌ That would create⁠‍ a debt in Palmir’s favor, and‍‌ also force Lucian‍⁠ to appear in⁠ person. A perfect⁠‍‍ double blow.

“A⁠‍ worthless commoner begging⁠ to die! For‌‍⁠ the crime of‌‍ insulting a noble,‍ I should cut‌ off your head‌‌⁠ immediately, but if‍‌ you kneel and⁠⁠ beg for forgiveness,‍‌ I’ll let it‍ go this time.”

Having⁠ finished his calculations,‌ Palmir pretended to‌⁠ be a knight⁠ who had lost‌ control, pointing his‍⁠ sword.

He‍⁠ had no real⁠ intention of letting it go, but‍⁠⁠ he needed to⁠ create the image that he had‍ given him a chance.

‘With‌‌‌ that arrogant mouth,‌ he’s bound to⁠⁠ refuse…’

“Ugh,‍ how annoying. A guy who doesn’t even look like‍⁠ he can swing⁠‍ a sword, yet‌ flaunts his title‌‌‍ as a knight. What ridiculous pride.”⁠⁠

Palmir’s‍‌ internal smirk vanished⁠ instantly, and he blinked, stunned. A moment later, his⁠ face turned completely‌‍ red, and his‌ arm trembled with‍ rage.

“Y-you…‌⁠‍ you damned…!”

“What’s⁠ wrong? Does it‍ bother you? If‌‌ it does, try‌⁠‍ attacking. Even if‌⁠ you do, at⁠ that level you won’t cut me.”

“I’ll⁠⁠ kill you!”

Unable‍‌‍ to hold back,‍⁠ Palmir slashed with all his strength.‌‌ He didn’t intend‍⁠ to kill him‍ for real—he needed‍ to negotiate—but he‌⁠ at least wanted‌ to take off‍ an arm to vent his anger.

The‌⁠ sword descended, aiming to slice the‍ captain’s right arm‍‌ just below the⁠ shoulder, when—

Clang!⁠‌

“Huh!?”‍‍

He⁠ felt his body‍ lose balance, along⁠ with a brutal‌‍ impact that nearly⁠⁠‌ shattered his hand.‌

He‌‌⁠ barely managed to‌‍ hold onto his‌ sword and had⁠‍ to step back‌‌ several times before‌‌ regaining his stance.‍‌

‘Who‌⁠ the hell got⁠‌ in the way‌‌ this time?’

Gritting‌ his teeth, Palmir‌‌ looked around. To‍ deliver such an‍‍ impact to a knight, only another⁠‌ knight could have‌ intervened.

But⁠‍ nearby, there were⁠⁠ only the insolent‍‌ captain and some‍‍ regular soldiers; the‌‌ other onlookers were⁠‌⁠ watching from a distance.

‘What‌ was that? He‌⁠ didn’t come close,‌ so it was⁠ from a distance…?’‌

“He‌⁠ really attacked. Can’t‍ even objectively assess⁠ his own skill,‍⁠ can he?”

The⁠‌ captain’s mocking voice‍‍‍ reached his ears‌ again. Palmir was‍‍ about to let⁠ out another string‍ of insults when‍⁠ he paused.

“…A‍‍‌ sword?”

“Yes,‍‌ as you can‍ see, it’s a sword.”

The‌⁠ captain smiled as‌ he drew his⁠ own sword and⁠⁠ waved it around casually.

Seeing⁠ that nonchalant attitude,‌ Palmir’s eyes trembled⁠ violently.

“Don’t‍ tell me you were the one‌‍ who deflected it?”‌

“Or⁠ would you prefer⁠‌ I say it⁠ was a ghost?”‌⁠‌

“Y-you‌⁠ lunatic!”

A mere captain of⁠ ten blocked his‌ sword?

Even‌ if Palmir prided himself more on⁠ his political skill‌ than martial prowess,⁠‍ he was still‌ a knight.

He‌‍‌ never imagined being‍‍ bested one-on-one by a common soldier.⁠

“What‍⁠⁠ are you doing?‌ If you’ve already‍‌ drawn your sword,‌ you should fight‌ seriously.”

“…!”‌⁠

“I‌ won’t believe you got scared just‍ because your strike⁠ was blocked once.‌ If that’s the‌ case, then the⁠⁠ level of Count‍‍ Calix, whom you‍‌ serve…”

“Shut‌ your mouth! How dare a lowly⁠‌ worm like you⁠‌‌ speak the name‌‌ of the Count’s house!”

Palmir‌ roared as he‍ looked around. He⁠‍‌ had managed to‌‌‍ stop even more⁠ reckless words from‌⁠⁠ being said, but‌‍ his shout had‌‌⁠ drawn more spectators.‍⁠‍

If he retreated now,‍ not only the Count’s honor, but⁠⁠ his own, would‍‍ be in shambles.‍‌

“Damn‌ it! Fine! Today,‌‌ I’ll personally cut⁠‌‌ off your head⁠‍ and restore the‌‍ Empire’s law!”

“That’s⁠⁠‍ the spirit.”

All‍⁠ intent to negotiate‍⁠ had disappeared. Palmir⁠ exhaled a killing⁠ intent that was almost tangible.

The‌‌ captain of ten,⁠ Hugo, watched him‍⁠ and smiled, finally adopting a serious‌ stance.

“Let’s⁠ see, then, what‍‍‍ the knights of‌‍‌ the house of‍ Count Calix are‍ really made of.”

***‌

“Look at that. The‌‌ duel just ended⁠‌ and they’re already desperate to take‍‍‌ your side.”

After‌ bringing Lucian to‌ one of the‍‍ rooms in the lord’s manor, Harald⁠ gestured toward the window as he‌‍ spoke.

Just‌‌‍ as he said,‌⁠⁠ it was easy‍‌ to see all⁠‌⁠ the knights who‍ had come as⁠ observers now heading‌‌ en masse toward‌‌ the residence.

“That’s⁠ a relief. If‌ the news had‌ arrived any later,⁠‍⁠ Calix would’ve tried‍‍ to make the‌‌ first move.”

“Let them try if‍ they want. Even⁠⁠ if they raise⁠‍⁠ the banner of northern unification, at⁠ best they can‍‍ act as representatives.‍‌ They can’t proclaim⁠ themselves kings or‍‌ give us orders.”‍‍

At⁠‍ Lucian’s words, Harald‌ waved his hand‌ dismissively.

He⁠ wasn’t wrong. No‍ matter how many‌‍⁠ lords Count Calix‌‌‍ managed to draw‌‌ to his side,⁠‍ he couldn’t restrict their movements.

At‌‌ most, he could‍‌‍ act a little‌‍‍ more arrogantly than⁠⁠ the others, being‍⁠ the visible head of a large alliance.

But‍⁠‍ if he tried‌‍‌ to meddle in‌ other domains’ internal⁠‍ affairs, no one would want to‌ follow him.

“But‌ you’re not like‌ that.”

Harald’s‍‍ jovial expression vanished,⁠ and he looked⁠‌‍ at Lucian with‌ absolute seriousness.

“You’ve‍⁠‌ proven yourself to be a warrior.⁠ And you did it by faithfully‌‌ following the traditions‌ of the north, winning over everyone⁠ present. Even those⁠ who didn’t witness‍‌ the duel will‍ soon hear what‌⁠ kind of man‍ you are.”

“…”⁠

“And⁠ above all, the‌ blood of Grimaldi‍‍ runs strongly through‍⁠ you. Now that‌ your right has been recognized, even‌ if you were to claim the⁠ rights of the old royal house,‍⁠ most would accept‍ it.”

“Baron…”‌

“Don’t⁠ misunderstand. I’m not⁠‍ saying you should‍‌‍ rebel against the Empire.”

Hearing⁠ Lucian’s grave tone,⁠ Harald quickly raised‍ both hands.

He‍‌ had not the‍‌ slightest intention of‍ inciting rebellion or‍‍ restoring a kingdom‌ by force.

“To⁠‍ be frank, the‍ north currently needs a spiritual pillar.”‌

“A‌‌‍ spiritual pillar? Even‌‌‌ for the strong⁠ men of the north?”

“Of⁠‌ course. Even here, the passing of time brings unease.”‌

“What⁠⁠‍ do you mean‌‌‍ exactly?”

“The‌‍ relationship between the⁠ imperial family and⁠ the north.”

Harald⁠‍‍ paused and, sighing,⁠⁠ sank into his‍‌‍ chair. He was‍ no longer the‌‍‌ imposing warrior from‍‌ moments before, but⁠‌ a feudal lord‌‍⁠ burdened with responsibility.⁠

“Lately,⁠‍ the imperial family‍ only shows weakness.⁠‍‌ It’s not that‌ the north wants⁠ independence, but everyone⁠ fears how a cornered imperial power‌ might react.”

For‌‌ centuries, the north had belonged to‌ the Empire while‌⁠ maintaining a distant⁠⁠ relationship with the⁠ imperial family.

Barren‍‌ lands, scarce resources,⁠‍⁠ but a martial‍‌ culture so deeply⁠‌‍ rooted that its‍ military power was‌⁠ formidable.

Too⁠ much interference would‌‌ have only stirred‌‍⁠ resentment without yielding⁠⁠ real benefit, so‌ the Empire had⁠ opted for a policy of semi-neglect.

The‌⁠ north, in turn,‌ accepted this stance—trading‌⁠ when possible and‌‍ paying taxes diligently‌⁠ as part of‌⁠‌ the Empire.

“We’d⁠ like to maintain‌‌ that relationship if‍ possible. But will⁠⁠ the Empire think‍ the same?”

“I‍ doubt they want to turn the⁠ north into an⁠ enemy. They already have enough problems.”

“That’s⁠ true. The problem‌‌ is that imperial‌ trust can be‌‌ just as annoying‍‍ as hostility. We⁠ don’t want them‍ suspecting us, but‌‍ we also don’t⁠⁠‌ want to get‌⁠‍ closer than necessary.”‌

“…?”⁠

“Think‍ about it. If‍ you were in⁠‌ trouble, who would⁠‌⁠ you ask for help? Someone you just greet in⁠‍ passing, or a close friend?”

Lucian⁠⁠ finally understood the‌‍ mindset of the‍ north.

‘They‌ don’t want to‌ make enemies of‌‍ the Empire, but‍ they also don’t‍ want to be‍⁠ forced to spill‌ their blood in‌ its name.’

It⁠ made sense. The‍ north had been‍ plagued by minor‍ conflicts for centuries⁠ and its population⁠ was small.

Demanding⁠ troops in the⁠ name of feudal‌‍‌ duty would mean‌ sacrifices far too‌ great.

“Some‍ fools, driven by‌⁠ impatience, are waging‌⁠ territorial wars to⁠⁠ absorb other domains.⁠⁠ They believe they‍ must grow stronger⁠‌ before the Empire‍‌‍ demands troops from‌ them.”

“And⁠‌ that’s why they‍⁠ support Calix and‍⁠ his use of‌‍ the Grimaldi name?”‍‍⁠

“Probably.‌ Some support him⁠‍ enthusiastically, but most‍ just believe the⁠‍ north needs to⁠ unify and speak‍‌ with one voice.”‍

It⁠‌‌ all came down⁠‌ to a lack of breathing room.‍⁠⁠ Anxiety led to⁠‌ overreactions to every‍ movement, which in⁠ turn only fed the chaos.

And⁠⁠ to make matters‌ worse, among the‌‍‍ turmoil, factions dreaming‍‌‌ of full northern‍⁠‌ independence had begun‍ to emerge.

‘They⁠ really do need‍ a point of‌‍‍ unity. At this‌ rate, the problem‌‌ will explode from‍‌ within.’

In‍ his past life,⁠ the north had‌‌‌ retreated when the⁠ emperor lost control.⁠

When‌‌ the Empire had⁠‍ been too busy to look their‍⁠ way, things quietly‍‌ returned to normal.‌‍

But‍⁠ now, with a weakened yet still-present⁠ imperial authority, the‌ tension was far‍⁠ greater.

“So then, Baron, you⁠ don’t just want me to reclaim⁠⁠ the name Grimaldi—you‌⁠⁠ want me to‌ become the axis‍‌ of the north.”⁠

“I‌‌‍ won’t ask you‍ to restore the‌ Grimaldi house. It would be unfair‍ to force someone⁠ from Valdeck to‌‌ stay tied to‍‍‍ this remote region.⁠ But I do⁠ hope that, while⁠ keeping the Valdeck‍‌ name, you become‌ the link between‌⁠ the north and‌ the imperial family.”‍‍

“In‍‍ that case…”

Lucian⁠ looked Harald straight⁠ in the eyes⁠‍ and spoke calmly.⁠⁠

“What‌⁠ would you do‌ if I openly claimed the rights⁠‌ of the old‌ royal house?”

“…!”⁠‍

The⁠ sudden shift left Harald frozen. He‍ hadn’t said “Grimaldi,” but “the royal⁠‌ house.” This wasn’t⁠‍ just symbolism—it was⁠ a direct question‌ about restoring a kingdom.

“…”‍

The⁠‌ silence grew heavy.‌‌ Suddenly, Harald stood‍⁠ up, grabbed a bottle of mead from the cupboard,‌‌ and drank straight⁠ from the neck.⁠

Glug,‌‍ glug, glug.

The‍‍ strong drink vanished⁠ without leaving a single drop.

After‍ shaking the empty‌ bottle, Harald slammed⁠ it down on‍⁠ the table with‌ a loud thud.‍‍‍ Despite having drunk⁠⁠‌ a whole bottle,‍‍‌ his gaze was sharp—icy, even.

“If⁠ you truly intend‍⁠ to rebuild the‌ Kingdom of the‍‍ North…”

Harald‍‌⁠ started in a low voice, but‍⁠ his tone quickly grew fiery.

“Then⁠⁠ this old man‌‌‍ will be the‍‌ first to raise‍⁠ the banner and‍‍ follow His Majesty!”⁠‌‌