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A Mercenary’s Rebirth Among Nobles Chapter 91

Chapter 91

Lucian‍⁠‌ couldn’t find a way to argue‌​​ back.

After‍​ all, he was‍‍ the one who⁠⁠‍ had asked Harald‌⁠ if he wanted‍ to follow him.​‌‍

Harald‍ had replied that⁠‍ he couldn’t leave​‍ immediately due to‌‌‍ matters in his⁠​‌ territory, but he‍‍ made it clear‍​ that as soon​ as the situation​ stabilized, he would‌ follow without hesitation.​⁠

If​‍‌ his second son,‍​ Torkel, became the‍‍ heir and showed‍⁠‌ acceptable capability, Harald‌ would have left​ the territory right​ away to join‌​⁠ Lucian.

‘And‍​ I too would‌⁠ have preferred Harald‌⁠⁠ to come rather‌⁠⁠ than this guy‍‌ I hadn’t even‍⁠‌ seen once.’

Torkel,⁠‍​ in his own‌ way, had chosen‌‌ the path he‍​‌ considered optimal to‍⁠ reach his goal.‍​​

And‌⁠‌ the result was‌‌⁠ exactly what he⁠ most desired, so‍ at the very⁠​‍ least, he had⁠ shown a good‌​ instinct for reading​ the situation and‌⁠ acting quickly.

However,​⁠ his story was‌‌​ missing something fundamental.​‌

“But⁠‍​ I have no‍‍‍ intention of keeping‍​ you by my​ side.”

“Huh?”​

“Why‍ are you so‌‌ surprised? Did you‍​ think that just⁠ because you’re the‌‍‌ son of Baron‍‌ Harald, I’d congratulate⁠⁠‍ you and say⁠⁠ you arrived just‍‍‍ in time?”

“That’s⁠‌ not it, but‍‌‌ perhaps you wish‍ to test my​ abilities?”

“No.​​ I’ve already seen⁠ enough of your​‌​ abilities. What I don’t like is⁠⁠‍ your character.”

At⁠ those unexpected words,‌ Torkel felt his⁠⁠ head spin.

His‍​‌ character? Had he​⁠⁠ done something wrong‌ in front of​‌⁠ Lucian?

Seeing‌​ that Torkel couldn’t​‍ find an answer⁠‍ even after a while, Lucian spoke‍‍ again.

“Take​‍‌ the throne. That​ was a ridiculous‍‌ comment.”

“…!”⁠

“Clever⁠‍‍ fox. You’re the‌​‍ opposite of your‍ upright father. Saying‌‍⁠ such things in‍ front of knights⁠‌ affiliated with the​‍⁠ Empire?”

“I‌ just…”

“A​ youth drunk on⁠‌ the ancient glory‍ of the North,​‍‌ unable to contain⁠⁠ his hot blood.‌⁠‌ It fit perfectly.​​ The timing was​‌ ideal too.”

It‌ was precisely when⁠ the White Palace,‌ closed for nearly‍ a thousand years,‌ was opening once​ again.

That⁠ a young man,⁠‌ overwhelmed with emotion,‍‍ would praise the‍⁠ past glory was​​ not strange at⁠‍⁠ all.

Even​‍ more so when‍‍​ the other pilgrims,‌‌‌ caught up in‌‍ the moment, joined‍‌‍ in immediately.

“Were‌​‌ you worried that‌⁠⁠ the gift I received from the‌​‌ Empire was too‌‌ generous? That I’d‍‍​ remain a loyal​​‍ subject and never‌ restore the North’s‍‌ glory?”

“….”⁠‌⁠

“You​ have an exceptional‍​‍ talent for probing.​‍‍ Or maybe you‍⁠ just lack patience.‍⁠​ It seems you⁠⁠‌ can’t rest until⁠‌ you hear a clear answer.”

With⁠​ each word from‍ Lucian, Torkel’s face​ grew paler. Despite⁠‌ the cold, everyone‍‍‌ could see sweat​⁠ soaking through his‍‍‍ back.

“You​⁠⁠ expected that upon​ hearing your proclamation,‌‌‌ I’d get excited​⁠​ and climb the‌⁠‍ throne, right? That⁠ would damage my​‌‌ relationship with the​ Empire and, at‌​‍ the same time,⁠ confirm my ambitions.”‌

“M-my⁠‍ lord.”

“Even‍⁠ if I hesitated⁠‌‌ and didn’t respond‌⁠ clearly, it still⁠ would’ve worked in‍​ your favor. If‌‍​ I didn’t say‍⁠⁠ something satisfying, the‍ Empire would start​‍ watching me with‌‌ suspicion.”

“My‌​ lord!”

Whoosh.‌​

As​‌‍ Torkel lifted his⁠‌​ head in desperation,⁠​​ a bluish energy⁠‌ flashed before his​‍​ eyes.

The‍⁠‌ burning heat at​​​ the tip of‍ his nose made​ him realize it​⁠⁠ was materialized magic.⁠‌

“Silence.​ The lord is⁠ speaking.”

The‌ knight’s voice rang‍ out a moment‌ later. Torkel swallowed⁠⁠‌ hard. One more⁠‌ word, and his‌​‍ throat would have⁠‍⁠ been cut without‌​ hesitation.

Lucian‌ looked at Torkel,‍ who had pressed⁠​ his forehead back‍⁠ to the floor,‍​ and gave a bitter smile.

“You​‌⁠ really do have⁠ a brain that‌ works. Quite the​‍​ opposite of your‍ upright father.”

He⁠⁠‌ said it half-seriously,‍‌ half-mockingly. In retrospect,⁠​ no matter how​​​ Lucian had reacted,‍ Torkel was bound‌ to gain something.‍‍‌

If‌⁠ Lucian confirmed his​‍ ambitions, he’d distance⁠⁠ himself from the⁠‌ Empire. If he⁠ hesitated, it would‍‍ be easy to​ widen that crack.‍

Even‌‍‌ if he completely‍ rejected the throne​​‌ and declared loyalty⁠​ to the Empire,‌ it would be‌‌​ disappointing—but still the‍​⁠ lesser evil.

‘At​‍‌ least the North​ wouldn’t be ruled‍ by a loyal​​ lapdog of the‌ Empire.’

The‍⁠‍ cold smile disappeared‍ from Lucian’s face.‍​⁠

“Insolent.”​‌‍

“….”‌

“Did⁠​‍ you think that‌⁠⁠ since you didn’t⁠‌ know your sovereign’s⁠⁠ character, you could‍​ mold it as‌ you pleased? I’ve​⁠ never seen anyone‌‌‌ like you. Were⁠‍​ you hoping to​ place a puppet⁠‍ on the throne‌ and pull the‍ strings from the⁠‌ shadows?”

“Never!”​⁠

Torkel‌‍ sprang up as⁠ if convulsing, but‌‍‌ Felicia’s sword flew‍‌​ toward him.

The⁠ blade grazed his​‌‍ ear, and blood‌‍ began to trickle,⁠‌⁠ but even so,​‍​ Torkel continued speaking.⁠

“How​‍​ could I harbor‍⁠ such a vile‍ dream?! Even if‍ I ended up⁠​‍ as a crippled‌⁠​ warrior or a usurper without legitimacy,‌ I’ve never wished​⁠ to be a shadowy conspirator!”

“And⁠‌ after scheming such‌⁠ a pathetic plot,‍⁠⁠ you say that?”​

“It’s‌​⁠ not just about‌‍‌ my fate! The⁠ fate of the‌​ entire North depends⁠‌⁠ on you! How‌‌ could I not​​‌ want to test‌ your worth?”

“Congratulations.‍ After evaluating your⁠ test, you’ve lost⁠‌​ my trust. I have no intention‌ of keeping you​ by my side.​‌​ Leave.”

“Then​ use me and‍‍‌ discard me!”

“What?”⁠​

Lucian⁠ looked at him,‍⁠​ stunned. In his‍​ past life, he​​‌ had seen it‌‌​ all—knights who begged‌ for days after‌‌​ being rejected, others​ who desperately tried⁠ to prove their‌​​ usefulness, or those‍ who left promising‌ to return someday.‌

But‌‍‍ someone who asked⁠ to be used​​​ as a disposable​ pawn—that was a first.

“My​ lord found an‍ answer I never‍⁠ could’ve imagined. That’s‌‌​ when I understood.​‍ You are someone⁠‍​ I cannot measure.​⁠ You are exactly⁠‌ the person I’ve‌ been looking for.”‍‍⁠

The⁠‍​ true king who⁠ would restore the​‍ North’s ancient glory.⁠‌‍ Bloodline, ability, timing—nothing‍⁠ was missing.

“I​​⁠ don’t care about‌‍⁠ personal glory. I don’t care about‍⁠⁠ leaving my name‍ in history or⁠⁠⁠ raising my family’s‌⁠ prestige. All I care about is⁠ the North regaining⁠‌⁠ its former greatness.”​

It‌ didn’t matter if‌‌ Lucian didn’t favor‍ him. What mattered​‌ was how useful‌⁠ he could be‌ to the cause.​​⁠

If⁠‍ he were to‌ be discarded, at‌⁠ least let it‌ be after being⁠ fully used.

“So​‍ please, use me⁠‌‌ and throw me​‍ away. Squeeze every⁠⁠‍ bit of worth​ I have for​⁠⁠ your cause. Even⁠‍ if, after that,⁠‍‌ you want my‍​​ head—I’ll offer it​ willingly.”

“….”‌

Lucian‌⁠ observed him in‌ silence. His eyes‍‌ burned with absolute⁠‌ desperation. He had​ seen that look‍⁠ many times in​⁠ his past life.⁠​‌

‘The⁠⁠⁠ eyes of someone​ who entrusted their‌⁠​ dream to another.’‍

People‌‍​ who couldn’t fulfill⁠‍‍ their dreams on‌ their own and‌‌‌ looked for a savior to do‍​ it in their⁠‌ place.

‘Most‌ of them ended‌‍ in tragedy.’

Even‌​‍ so, they all‍ had one thing‌ in common.

‘They⁠⁠ never betrayed.’

Lucian​ stroked his chin,​⁠⁠ thoughtful.

“That’s​ true. Getting rid‌‍⁠ of someone who‍​‌ still has value‌⁠ too soon would‌‍ be wasteful.”

“My​‌⁠ lord!”

But⁠​ Lucian raised his‍‍ hand to stop⁠‌ him.

“However,‍⁠ if all I squeeze out is​ dirty water, it’ll​​‌ be a massive‍ disappointment. I’m not​ sure you’re worth⁠​‌ the effort.”

“I‍ have many friends​‌​ among the second⁠‍ and third sons⁠ of families allied‌ with Count Calix’s​‍​ house. They’re all‍ dissatisfied with their‍⁠ lords’ decision to‌ align with Calix.”‌‌

“…!”‍‍‌

Lucian​‍​ was startled.

If‍‍ that was true,‍ there was no​⁠‍ need to face‌⁠​ all of Count‍⁠ Calix’s allies head-on.​⁠

It​‍⁠ would be enough​ for them to‍⁠ waver from within​ to deliver a serious blow.

Under⁠‍‍ Lucian’s inquisitive gaze,‍‌​ Torkel pulled a crumpled paper from‍​‍ his clothing.

“I​‍‍ don’t need a reward. Just use​​​ it in whatever​‌ way is most​‌ useful to you.”⁠

***‌

On​‌​ the paper was​⁠‌ written the list‌ of the “friends”‍ Torkel had mentioned.‍⁠⁠

The‍​‌ families they belonged‍​ to, each one’s​‌ grievances, and even⁠​‍ their usual ideological​ stances.

If‌‌ what was written‍‍ there was true,‌​​ it could prove⁠ extremely useful.

“As​​‍ long as it’s‌ true.”

“I‍​⁠ can wager my⁠‌ head.”

“Your‌⁠ head is worth‍‍ nothing for this‍ to work.”

“Then‌ what must I do for you‍ to believe me?”‌​‍

Torkel‌‍​ wore a desperate‍‍⁠ expression, as if‍ trying to regain​ the trust he‍ had lost.

Lucian‌ lightly shook the‍​ paper in his​‌ hand and asked,‌

“Is‍⁠ there anyone listed⁠ here who could‍​‍ provoke an internal​⁠‌ rebellion right now⁠‍​ and make it‍‌⁠ succeed? Without my‍ help, using only‌ their own strength.”⁠​​

Torkel’s⁠‌ face hardened.

A rebellion, regardless of​‌⁠ its scale, was​‌ something one wagered​⁠​ their life on.⁠​‍

Even‌​ if the probability⁠‍ of success was‍‍​ high, it wasn’t​ something to be‍‌ mentioned lightly.

“…There‍‍ is one. A friend who has‍⁠​ been preparing for⁠‌‌ some time. Even​⁠ so, the chance⁠⁠ of success is‍ fifty-fifty.”

“Which​ family?”

“The⁠ third son of‌‌ the house of‍‍⁠ Baron Beor.”

He‌‌ wasn’t a nobody,‍ but a family⁠⁠ positioned at the⁠⁠‌ lowest rung among​‌‌ Count Calix’s main‌‍ allies.

Even‍‌‍ so, within the‍‌ North they had‍ a certain voice⁠​ among the feudal‌ lords. If they⁠ could replace the⁠ head of that​​ family, dealing with‌‌​ Calix would become⁠⁠⁠ much easier.

“I’ll⁠‌ soon be holding​ a banquet and‍​ sending invitations to‌‌ the lords of⁠​⁠ the North. By‌‍‌ then, I want‍ the head of‌​​ the Beor house‌‍⁠ to be someone⁠ favorable to me.”​‌‌

It‍‌ was, in essence,‍ an order to⁠⁠ go and immediately⁠​⁠ provoke a successful‍‌ rebellion. It was⁠ an excessive demand,‍ bordering on the⁠⁠ unrealistic, but Torkel​‌‍ nodded with a firm expression.

“Understood.‌⁠ We’ll meet again‌​‍ at the banquet.‌‍‍ By then, I’ll‍ come to greet‍ you together with‌ my friend.”

With⁠‍‍ those words, Torkel‍ turned around and⁠‍ left.

Blood⁠‌‌ was still running‌ from his ear,‌‌‌ but instead of⁠ trying to stop⁠​ it, he simply​⁠ held it carefully⁠ so it wouldn’t​‍ stain the floor.⁠​⁠

When⁠⁠ Torkel disappeared, the‌‍ vassals approached Lucian.‍‌‌

“My​​ lord, is it‌⁠ really all right⁠‌​ to let him‍ go like that?​​‍ After all, he’s‍​⁠ the heir of​ Baron Harald. If⁠‌⁠ he dies wrapped​‌ up in a rebellion…”

“Even​⁠ if it’s a rebellion, since he’s‌‍ an outsider he’ll‍‍⁠ be in a rear position where⁠​‍ he can always‌ flee. He won’t‌ die.”

For⁠‌​ the side that‌ achieved success, having⁠‍​ the involvement of⁠ an outsider in‍‍ the family’s internal⁠​​ affairs exposed would‍ be a disgrace.⁠‍

Unless‍ they were as​⁠ foolish as Harald’s​ eldest son, they‍‌⁠ would keep him⁠ at a distance‍‍ while they overthrew​ their own clan.‌⁠

Of​⁠ course, before that,‌​‍ he would first⁠‌ have to convince​ them to start​‌​ the rebellion.

“He‍ didn’t say a single word about⁠⁠ being unable to‍ do it, even‌ after handing me⁠⁠ that information with‍ such confidence. Let’s‌‍⁠ see what happens.”‌‌‍

If​‍ he failed, he‍⁠‍ would be nothing‍⁠⁠ more than an‍⁠ insolent talentless fool‍ who dared to‍ test his lord.⁠

If‌ he succeeded, he⁠‌ would prove that​‍⁠ there was still⁠​ plenty left to​ squeeze out of⁠​‌ him, just as‍‍⁠ he had said.​‌

Lucian‌ only needed to‍⁠‌ wait calmly and⁠⁠ see the outcome.⁠

“By​‍ the way, there’s‌⁠‌ something I want‌‌‌ to show you.‌ When the sun‍ goes down, come‌‌‍ inside the White‍ Palace. Right now,‍‌ this is more‍‌‍ urgent than that‍ fellow.”

“You⁠‍‌ found it?”

“Come‌​ in later and⁠ see it with‍⁠ your own eyes.”⁠‍⁠

Lucian‍ left those meaning-laden‌⁠ words to Hugo‌ and Raymond, whose​⁠ eyes were shining,‍⁠‍ and went back⁠ inside.

That‍‍ night, when the‌ two men saw‍​‍ the secret space⁠‍​ beneath the throne,​‍​ a scream escaped‍‌⁠ their mouths.

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