Chapter 141. Gold Coins Instead of Swords (3)
“How long do you intend to block the merchants heading south? I demand that you release the blockade on those heading to my domain right now.”
A middle-aged man spoke in a strong tone to Count Lacie, who was holding a wine bottle.
Count Lacie had controlled the flow of logistics to keep Blanc in check, but the damage was not limited to Blanc; it was also being fully felt by the lords in the south.
“Instead of that, why don’t you sit here and listen to what I have to say first, Baron Capone.”
Count Lacie extended his palm toward a chair and spoke to Baron Capone with a good-natured smile, but Baron Capone did not accept his goodwill.
“...You have always been like that. Hiding a cold dagger behind your smile, you have always stabbed us.”
As if he could no longer bear it, Baron Capone roughly spat back Count Lacie’s goodwill and continued his words.
“If you wish to call yourself the hegemon of the south, you should show that much tolerance, but you have never once done so.”
Baron Capone strode forward and stood right in front of Count Lacie.
“...I hope you do not cross the line of my goodwill, Baron Capone.”
The giant snake that had been flicking its tongue had shed its camouflage and was now baring its poison-coated fangs at Baron Capone, who was opposing him.
“You were the first one to cross the line.”
Baron Capone snatched the wine bottle Count Lacie was holding and drank it in one gulp.
As the two nobles faced each other while drinking wine, it was as if the sound of something shattering could be heard between them.
“I will no longer be deceived by your threats and sweet talk.”
Faced with Baron Capone’s unexpectedly firm stance, Count Lacie could not help but be momentarily flustered.
“Do you know what has become of my domain that followed your words? My domain is now in a position where it will starve to death without the scraps that Bigrove provides!”
Count Lacie had cunningly diverted the flow of logistics and simultaneously released grains at low prices, making the surrounding domains unable to stand without Bigrove.
Having succeeded in economically subjugating the surrounding lords in this way, Count Lacie declared himself the hegemon of the south and revealed his true colors.
By then, there was no one among the southern lords who could stop him.
The sweet honey they had been accepting, thinking it was Count Lacie’s goodwill, had in fact been the poison that paralyzed them.
However, by the time the southern lords realized it, it was already too late.
They could not stand on their own, and they could not unite, so they had no choice but to succumb to his tyranny and lie low.
Until now, that is.
“Pallard Cadmus was right! We should have stood on our own!”
Upon hearing the name Pallard, Count Lacie’s eyebrow twitched.
The only southern lord who had tried to stand on his own against Count Lacie, who had been subtly spreading his poison.
The insolent lord who had dared to raise a banner of rebellion against him, using Tolome as his backing and dragging Gartaria into the mix to change the tide.
“Cadmus?”
And the father of Blanc Cadmus, who was now preparing for a showdown with him.
Count Lacie grabbed Baron Capone by the collar for touching his sore spot.
“How dare you mention their names in front of me!”
His patience reaching its limit, he no longer hid his true nature.
The giant snake flicked its tongue and poured out its fury.
How delighted he had been when they burned to ashes.
Count Lacie had taken out a cherished bottle of wine to celebrate the fall of Cadmus, but he could no longer do so.
The small sprout that had risen from the ashes had, in the moment he had looked away, returned as a giant tree.
Baron Capone roughly pushed away the hand gripping his collar.
“That’s right. Cadmus.”
Count Lacie glared at him with bloodshot eyes that looked as if they would drip blood, but Baron Capone did not yield.
If it was about the resentment that had built up, he had accumulated just as much, not losing out.
“Will you starve to death with them, Baron Capone?”
Seeing Count Lacie threatening him with grain again, Baron Capone scoffed.
“Unlike you, Count Blanc is a person beloved by the Goddess. So much so that she would turn a dry wasteland into fertile land.”
“...What?”
Count Lacie felt puzzled watching Baron Capone utter such out-of-place words, but Baron Capone, seeing his dubious expression, felt rather refreshed.
“Indeed! Count Blanc is truly remarkable! To the point of blinding the eyes and ears of the self-proclaimed hegemon of the south!”
Baron Capone clapped his hands slowly and headed out of the drawing room.
“I, no, we have answered the call of Cadmus too late.”
Baron Capone was one of those who had responded to the Southern Union proposal sent by Pallard Cadmus.
However, after Pallard’s death and the burning of Cadmus, he had no choice but to bow his head, but not anymore.
Because the one who inherited Pallard Cadmus' will had been reborn in the south.
Baron Capone left a cold sneer even at the last moment of his departure.
“You are not a vessel fit to contain us.”
Count Lacie looked at the spot where Baron Capone had left, trembling with an anger he could barely control.
“...Not a fit vessel? You dare to judge me?”
Count Lacie wanted to immediately catch Baron Capone as he walked out and strike his neck, but he held back with the last shred of his reason.
“...You bastards.”
However, there is a limit to patience.
In the end, Count Lacie could not contain his momentary anger and began to throw things around.
“First Tolome and Cadmus, and now even you lot ignore me!”
The sound of something shattering echoed loudly from within his office.
“Gasp... Gasp...”
Even after throwing the furniture, his anger did not subside.
Count Lacie glared and yelled at his advisors.
“Go and find out what that bastard is talking about right now! You incompetent fools!”
The advisors, who were trembling with fear, fled the office as if they had been waiting for those words.
“Ye, yes, sir!”
With even his advisors gone, Count Lacie, now completely alone, roughly opened a bottle of wine and drank it down.
“Cadmus... Cadmus... you sons of bitches, just how long are you going to get in my way?”
Count Lacie began to chug the wine bottle without rest.
To quell the rage boiling in his chest.
And to suppress the feeling of anxiety that was stealthily raising its head.
The shattered glass pieces received the sunlight, emitting a brilliant light.
***
“If Your Highness would do just that, we might be able to mediate not only the alliance but also Quiesco’s anger.”
Theobald, the second prince of Gartaria, was contemplating Nicholas' proposals.
“Must I really return it?”
“That is the core of this alliance, Your Highness. Without Quiesco’s consent, it will be difficult to form a true alliance.”
At Nicholas' proposal to return Quiesco’s old, stolen lands, Prince Theobald fell into deep thought.
It was the only way to pacify Norington and Quiesco, who were likely sharpening their knives behind their backs, but if he accepted this proposal, the nobles of Gartaria who supported him would surely defect.
“...That would be difficult.”
Theobald chose to reject Blanc’s proposal rather than harm his own foundation.
“This is truly a regrettable decision, Your Highness.”
Nicholas expressed his regret in the most polite tone possible.
“It will be difficult to accept this proposal, but it is true that I wish to maintain a good relationship with Count Blanc.”
Theobald frankly revealed his feelings and conveyed his sincerity to Nicholas.
The ambitious first prince, Geobalt.
The revenge-filled third prince, Aleid.
And the second prince, Theobald, who had fallen the fastest in the previous life.
Although Theobald lacked the military insight of the other two princes, he was a man of gentle character who knew how to embrace others.
Perhaps if it were not for these turbulent times, he might have been praised as a man with the qualities of a wise king.
“I am only grateful that you have shown me your honest sincerity.”
Nicholas bowed his head to Theobald, who showed courtesy and sincerity even to a mere envoy, to express his gratitude.
Nicholas also knew well.
That it would be difficult for Theobabolt to return Quiesco’s lands.
Since Gartaria had built its current kingdom through numerous wars of conquest, it was obvious that liberating Quiesco would bring about a chaos even greater than the Prince’s Rebellion.
Even though he knew this well, Nicholas had requested the return of Quiesco’s lands.
Because one must first present something large to make the subsequent proposal seem small.
“In that case, how about this?”
Nicholas requested that Theobald move Gartaria’s committee members in Baywood in exchange for him calming down Quiesco, which was grinding its teeth behind their backs.
Prince Theobald’s faction, located in the west of Gartaria, also bordered Baywood, so the committee members planted by Gartaria had no choice but to be more mindful of Theobald than Aleid.
“If I do that, can we form an alliance?”
“A military alliance might be difficult, but a non-aggression pact seems possible.”
Quiesco was far from grinding its teeth; it was busy trying to survive.
However, Nicholas succeeded in intimidating Theobald by exaggerating their power.
“Hmm...”
Watching the pensive Theobald, Nicholas sensed that this negotiation would succeed.
From Theobald’s perspective, it was a negotiation with nothing to lose.
If he could pacify Norington and Quiesco just by moving committee members he couldn't even use, it was a gain for Theobald.
“Very well.”
Theobald smiled and offered a handshake to Nicholas.
“I shall do so.”
Nicholas stepped up the stairs to shake hands, a sign of friendship and the achievement of the negotiation.
“...Oops.”
But then he stepped on his own clothes and fell.
“Hah...”
Ulvent, who was watching Nicholas from behind, covered his forehead with his hand with an expression that said, ‘He finally did it.’
The huge lobby was instantly enveloped in silence due to Nicholas' mistake.
However, seeing Nicholas looking at him with an embarrassed expression, Theobald seemed rather relieved.
“I thought Count Blanc’s subordinates were all fearsome people, but it seems there are also humane ones like you.”
Just as Theobald said, the public perception of the Cadmus Knights was nothing short of terrifying.
A place with a werewolf, a walking suit of armor, and a knight who had cut out his own eye.
On top of that, they even bore the kill mark of a Twin-headed Ogre Slayer, so ordinary knights could not help but feel fear before admiring the honor of the Cadmus Knights.
“Norington is also a place where people live, Your Highness. That is why we can communicate like this.”
Nicholas, knowing that his clumsy body had actually lowered Prince Theobald’s guard, smiled quietly.
“I will accurately convey Your Highness' intentions.”
“Good. Please tell Count Blanc that we have no intention of being hostile to him.”
The prince with the qualities of a wise king and the Red Prime Minister who had committed horrific massacres under Aleid in the previous life shook hands.
They faced each other and smiled, but their thoughts were different.
Negotiations were always like that.
***
While humans were biting and tearing at each other for gain, hiding something.
The elves who arrived at the Gorge Where Even Tears Dried Up could not hide their bewildered expressions.
In a place that now seemed like it should be called the Gorge Where Tears Flow, Beronion and the elves were repeatedly asking the soldiers guarding the place as if it were unbelievable.
“It hasn’t even been a month?”
The Quiesco soldiers were protecting the young Spirit Tree at Blanc’s request.
“Even we who were watching couldn’t believe it, so we understand, but it’s true.”
The soldiers insisted it was the truth, as if they were being wronged.
Hearing their words, Beronion’s jaw dropped.
“I’ve never heard of a case like this...”
The Spirit Tree stood proudly, receiving the blazing sun with its whole body.
And in Beronion’s eyes, he could see small things swimming among the green branches.
The figures of tiny spirits giggling and circling around the Spirit Tree.
Scenes that one would expect to see only around the World Tree were visible at the Spirit Tree.
“The growth rate is too fast.”
Something flashed through Beronion’s mind for a moment, but he tried hard to ignore the thought.
“Gavin, go to Elbhenin right now. Bring the elders from there.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Realizing that this was not something he could easily judge, Beronion sought answers from the elders in Elbhenin.
The elf who received Beronion’s order mounted his griffin.
Watching him leave, flapping its giant wings, Beronion quietly murmured.
“Surely it can’t be...”
The withering World Tree of Elbhenin and, in contrast, the rapidly growing Spirit Tree of Norington.
Beronion hoped that the sight he was witnessing did not signify a new cycle.
It was the law that all things with form could not be eternal.
It was the law of nature and the law of the world that what is stagnant is bound to rot, and the back waves of a river push away the front waves.
However, contrary to Beronion’s wish, new flows and waves were already overflowing throughout Norington.