Chapter 77

‘Good.’

Lucian restrained the corner of his lips, which threatened to rise.

Of course, he had no intention of giving up Valdeck and remaining anchored in the north, but that would only be in the case where he had to abandon one of the two options.

If he could keep both, he would do so without hesitation.

‘Of course, the emperor would never tolerate it. If, in addition to securing Valdeck, I also aspired to the northern throne, I’d lose my head.’

It was true that the emperor felt sympathy for Lucian, but that sympathy only lasted as long as Lucian faithfully fulfilled his role as a “subordinate.”

If he were to grow into a force capable of threatening the imperial family, he would be regarded as a potential rebel without the slightest consideration. That was why, for now, it was enough to plant a small seed.

‘So that when the era of chaos arrives, I can claim my legitimate rights. To place my people now, so that later they’ll willingly join my ranks.’

After organizing his thoughts, Lucian smiled and waved his hand.

“My, this is getting far too serious. I was only asking lightly. How could I dare to do anything against the Empire when I live under the grace of His Majesty the Emperor?”

“…”

Despite the evasive reply, Harald’s eyes continued to shine intensely, as if trying to discern whether Lucian was being sincere.

Seeing that attitude, Lucian shrugged and added.

“Well, even so, no one knows how human affairs will end. Just as you said, Baron Harald, the Empire is faltering. Not long ago, they returned without any real results after suppressing the Krephelt rebellion, losing quite a bit of prestige in the process.”

“What…?”

“His Majesty is containing the situation by even revealing the hidden power of the imperial family, but no one knows how long he’ll be able to sustain it. When a beast shows weakness, it’s attacked from all sides. From here on out, the situation will only grow harsher.”

“Mmm…”

Harald lowered his gaze, his face slightly pale. As expected, due to the north’s isolation and the imperial family’s cover-up, he didn’t seem to know the deeper details.

Lucian, who had just casually dropped such grave matters, added a few more words in passing.

“If arrogant lords begin to run rampant and the imperial family loses the strength to restrain them, that would be a tragedy. If that truly happens, the north will also have to seek its own way to survive. For example, by uniting once more around the old royal family and rising again.”

“…!”

“There’s no proof. Nor can I guarantee anything. It’s nothing more than a dreamlike story that may never come true. Could you believe in it someday and wait?”

Waiting wears people down. Even if one makes a momentous decision, if time passes meaninglessly, the passion of that moment eventually fades away.

Faced with Lucian’s question of whether he could endure such empty waiting, Harald smiled.

“I’ve long since grown used to waiting without gaining anything. After all, I don’t have much life left. I intend to wait until I close my eyes.”

That meant that, at least while he was still alive, he had no intention of betraying Lucian.

Hearing the answer he had been hoping for, Lucian’s expression also grew a little more serious.

“And what do you plan to do regarding your succession? Aside from that traitor, it doesn’t seem like there are any other sons here.”

“I sent my second son to a friend. The investiture ceremony ended not long ago, but he still hasn’t sworn loyalty, so I’ll have to bring him back.”

“Do you think he’ll follow me?”

“He’s a lot like me and has a rather strong rebellious streak. He always talked about the greatness of the north and often mentioned the era of the old kingdom. Lately, he’s also complained frequently that the Empire’s interference is excessive.”

“…Even if his temperament is different, there may be points where we fit together better than it seems.”

At the same time, Lucian understood why that “second son” wasn’t here. If he showed such a rebellious nature so openly, it would be easy for the Empire to mark him as a traitor.

He had probably been sent away to prevent Torik or other rivals from taking advantage of it.

“I think so too. But as I said before, human affairs are unpredictable. He might fit better with you than with me, or he might not fit at all.”

In other words, if possible, he wanted the grand undertaking to begin while he was still alive.

Once it began, he would follow it without hesitation, without weighing pros and cons. Seeing Harald maintain a resolute attitude while letting words heavy with longing slip out, Lucian smiled wryly.

“That sounds rather frightening. I hope Baron Harald enjoys good health and lives many long years.”

“Or that you hurry a bit more.”

“Well, in any case, taking care of one’s health is never a bad idea.”

Lucian took a vial of nectar from his pocket and set it on the table. Seeing the bluish glow, unfamiliar to him, Harald blinked.

“And what is this?”

“A medicine that’s beneficial to the body. Try it.”

“Well… if you’re giving it to me, I’ll take it.”

With a somewhat unconvinced expression, Harald opened the vial. It was an unexpected bribe, but also a clear show of goodwill, so he decided to accept it.

In a single gulp, he brought the nectar to his mouth and sat back down across from Lucian.

“I’ve already taken the medicine. But no matter how good it is, time—”

Booom!

Harald couldn’t finish his sentence and froze. He felt a torrent of mana, like an erupting volcano, spreading from within throughout his entire body.

An inconceivable medicinal effect wrapped around him like a storm, yet without causing the slightest pain.

Only a refreshing sensation, as if every corner of his body were being washed clean.

“What… ugh…?”

He muttered unconsciously, but closed his mouth again as he felt the mana overflowing.

He had the strange feeling that if he said something wrong, the mana might explode. After a moment, once he confirmed the mana saturating his entire body, he was finally able to speak again.

“This… what the hell is this?”

“A spiritual medicine.”

“Spiritual medicine? Don’t be ridiculous! This is on an entirely different level!”

“Yes. It’s an invention capable of turning the world upside down. If you went around telling everyone about it, I’d be finished.”

“…!”

Harald’s eyes trembled violently. Just as Lucian said, this wasn’t a simple gift.

It was a dangerous treasure, capable of altering the balance of power across the continent. By handing it over, Lucian was showing absolute trust.

‘I see.’

Finally at ease, a deep smile formed on Harald’s lips.

The mere fact that Lucian revealed such a treasure to him was practically a promise that, one day without fail, he would rise.

“I’ll have to live many long years.”

Until I can see that day with my own eyes.

Just as Lucian, satisfied after gaining Harald’s complete trust, nodded silently, a voice came from outside.

“Baron Harald, my lord. I have something to report.”

It was Raymond’s voice. Before Lucian could ask what was going on, Raymond got straight to the point.

“Hugo is fighting right now against a knight who came from the house of Count Calix. You’d better go see it.”

***

Sword techniques aren’t something exclusive to knights.

Sometimes, by the mercy of a knight; other times, by stealing teachings through eavesdropping, fragments of them end up leaking into the world.

If someone comes from a mercenary background and has a bit of fame, it’s normal for them to possess at least a decent sword technique.

But no matter how many techniques they have, they can never defeat a knight who has been properly trained.

The gap in quality between a commoner who learned through crude means and a knight surrounded by top-level masters is immense.

‘That’s what I always heard…!’

Clang!

‘What the hell is this guy using to block all my attacks?!’

Palmir retreated, swallowing down a scream that threatened to burst out. The moment his sword was repelled, a sharp pain ran through his hand, as if his grip was being torn apart.

He couldn’t see it through his gauntlet, but it was obvious his palm had been injured. As he clumsily moved his fingers in pain, a mocking voice came from the front.

“Your attacks are getting weaker. Getting tired?”

“Shut up!”

Palmir clenched his teeth and glared at Hugo, but he didn’t dare rush in again.

If he kept attacking, his hand might become completely unusable. In the worst-case scenario, he’d have to retire as a knight.

‘But I can’t back down now either…!’

A knight who’d been properly trained admitting defeat to a mere squad captain? And in the north, no less?

It wouldn’t just be a retreat; he’d have to live the rest of his life in hiding, unable to show his face again.

While Palmir hesitated, unsure what to do, a familiar voice rang out.

“Quite the spectacle. A knight retreating in fear from a squad captain.”

Recognizing the voice, Palmir reacted immediately. As he turned his head, just as he expected, Lucian was watching them.

Seizing the opportunity, Palmir shouted at the top of his lungs.

“Young Lord Lucian! How can you allow such disrespect?!”

“….”

“I came to see you, but your subordinate didn’t even announce my visit and attacked me immediately! Is this the will of Young Lord Lucian, the will of Valdeck?!”

At Palmir’s shout, the spectators began to murmur. Lucian calmly looked around, then crossed his arms.

Interpreting that gesture as hesitation, Palmir smirked slightly.

“Explain yourself! Is this your will? Or was it an arbitrary act by a mere soldier?!”

“….”

“If it was your will, then you must take responsibility! And if it was an independent action by a soldier, then he must be punished accordingly!”

Despite his triumphant tone, Lucian didn’t so much as twitch an eyebrow. He remained silent, watching Palmir with a calm, indifferent gaze.

As the silence dragged on, Palmir was about to shout again—

“What are you doing? Weren’t you supposed to be fighting?”

“…What?”

“Weren’t you in the middle of a fight with my squad captain? Shouting is all well and good, but I don’t understand why you stopped. Hugo.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“If the opponent gets distracted mid-fight, you should cut them down without hesitation. Why are you letting him keep talking? Draw your sword!”

“…?!”

Horrified, Palmir immediately looked at Hugo. By then, Hugo had already taken a firm stance and was slowly advancing toward him.

If he didn’t defend properly, he’d be cut down without mercy.

“Lu-Lucian! What is the meaning of this?!”

“Shut up and fight. I don’t care who wins or loses; the result must be decided. I won’t allow anyone to run away from a duel.”

“This isn’t a duel! It’s one-sided—agh!”

Clang!

Palmir barely managed to block Hugo’s attack and staggered backward.

The pain in his palm was unbearable, as if the wound had worsened.

Suppressing a groan, he was about to speak again when a cold voice cut him off.

“If you abandon the duel, I’ll kill you.”

“…!”

“Tricks won’t work here. Don’t dream of escaping the result. You either carry your defeat with you, or you get buried here. Choose.”

At that chilling declaration, Palmir felt his blood run cold.

He had thought he found an escape, but it had all been an illusion. His opponent had no intention of letting him go until he chose between an honorable death—or a real one.

A wave of regret spun through his mind.

‘If only I’d put my sword away with some excuse… if I’d pretended my illness had worsened and collapsed…’

Among these thoughts, Palmir came to a devastating realization—none of this would’ve happened if he hadn’t tried to place himself above Lucian from the start.

Unfortunately, that understanding came far too late.

Clang!

“Aaagh!”

His sword was knocked into the air with the next clash. At the same time, a searing pain tore through his hand, and blood began to seep from his gauntlet.

It wasn’t an attack from a blind spot or a clever disarming technique—he had simply lost in a head-on contest of strength, unable to even withstand the force of the weapon clash.

“Ah…”

With a clatter, Palmir didn’t even think to retrieve his fallen sword.

Looking around, he saw the spectators watching him with obvious contempt.

In a scene completely opposite to Lucian’s duel, Palmir collapsed to his knees, his face etched with despair.