Chapter 182

Chapter 182
## Chapter 182

At this stage, describing Lucian’s advancement as merely “unparalleled” seemed like a vast understatement.

It would have been perfectly logical for power-hungry men, sensing a growing shadow over their own ambitions, to take action against him. However, Lucian harbored no anxiety regarding the other noble houses—certainly not concerning the House of Roglan.

The logic behind his confidence was straightforward.

A titan of industry and war like the House of Roglan would find it far more lucrative to swallow up the bordering lands than to squander their strength trying to suppress his rise.

Alongside the Grand Ducal House of Valdek, the House of Roglan stood as one of the two foundational pillars of the Empire. Because the House of Valdek’s prestige had withered away following the insurrection led by Jordi, Roglan remained the sole family capable of claiming such a dominant status. In terms of the raw military and economic might concentrated in a single lineage, they were arguably the most formidable force in the modern Empire.

When considering sheer individual power, they might actually rank beneath me, but my organization is a fresh entity forged from a collection of geniuses scouted from every corner. In contrast, regarding internal unity and political endurance as a governing body, the House of Roglan likely holds the upper hand.

Simply put, they possessed the administrative infrastructure to manage the sudden growth that comes with conquest. Even if Lucian’s ascent made them uneasy, launching a campaign to stifle him in the far-flung North would be an inefficient use of their assets. Their time was better spent utilizing their existing advantages to rapidly subdue nearby rivals and solidify their own hegemony.

Marquis Bernhardt was surely cognizant of this reality, yet he had dispatched a representative the very moment the Kingdom had been restored.

Was the purpose of this visit to suggest a pact of neutrality or perhaps a formal partnership? He surely hadn’t sent someone across the continent just for a display of pointless bravado.

While Lucian sat atop his throne, deep in contemplation, the messenger from the House of Roglan finished his entry rites and stepped into the grand hall. This was no common knight or low-ranking associate typically sent by lesser lords; he was a formal herald of the house.

The herald knelt before Lucian, meticulously following every rigorous demand of high-court protocol.

“Ernst, herald representing the House of Roglan, offers greetings to Your Highness.”

“Your Highness, is it?”

A faint, mocking smile touched Lucian’s lips at the specific choice of address.

He avoids calling me ‘Your Majesty.’ He hasn’t technically committed a breach of decorum, but he is very pointedly dancing around the most significant detail.

The sovereign of a subordinate or client state is traditionally called “Your Highness,” the same honorific given to a duke, rather than the “Your Majesty” reserved for an emperor or high king. Unlike the ruler of a fully sovereign nation, their standing is viewed as a tier below the Emperor, necessitating a lower title.

The herald had chosen his words with surgical precision, omitting the official title of King to use only “Your Highness.” It was a masterfully vague gesture that left the listener guessing. It could be interpreted as a nod to his royal status, but even if the House of Roglan only viewed him as a Duke and rejected his crown, the title would still be technically accurate.

So, they refuse to validate the rank bestowed upon me by the First Prince, yet they aren’t ready to trigger an open war either?

Then again, Marquis Bernhardt was likely backed into a corner. Since he had championed a different member of the royal bloodline as the rightful heir to the throne, he could hardly recognize a peerage granted by the rival First Prince.

Viewed through that lens, it was a measured enough response, as it didn’t scream immediate hostility.

“You have endured a long trek to reach the North, Herald. Under better circumstances, I would have hosted a lavish feast to honor your arrival, but your appearance was so abrupt that preparations were impossible.”

“As a messenger with a mission to fulfill, how could I demand extravagance? I am simply thankful that you granted me an audience and didn’t bar the gates during these turbulent times.”

“I appreciate your humility. Now, speak plainly: what is the nature of your visit?”

Lucian dispensed with the pleasantries to reach the core of the matter. He was dealing with an envoy whose true motives—be they benevolent or malicious—remained hidden. Rather than allowing the dialogue to wander and creating space for errors, it was more efficient to address the business at hand.

Ernst, performing his role as herald, seemed to concur, responding immediately without a hint of hesitation.

“My master, His Grace Marquis Bernhardt, extends an invitation for Your Highness to attend a banquet.”

“…An invitation? Are you suggesting I trek all the way to the Western territories, the seat of the Marquisate?”

“I recognize the weight of the request, yet his Grace sincerely desires your presence.”

A dry, joyless chuckle broke from Lucian. To travel into the heart of the North just to ask him to walk into the West on his own accord… The most preposterous part was that the event was set in the Marquis’s very own stronghold. Had they suggested a meeting at a halfway point or a neutral border town, it might have made sense, but he couldn’t imagine what they thought would earn his trust.

Any rational leader would shut down such a proposal, so they likely don’t even anticipate that I will show up.

They had almost certainly proposed this with the expectation that he would refuse. The true target wasn’t this absurd social gathering, but a hidden objective concealed behind the offer.

Lucian, having caught the scent of his opponent’s true aim, pressed further.

“Before I decide, I want to hear the stated goal of this banquet.”

“His Grace mentioned a desire to align his strength with Your Highness for the sake of continental stability and the unhindered flow of commerce.”

“Leaving continental peace aside for a moment, what exactly do you mean by ‘unhindered flow of commerce’?”

“We occupy a world where various rebellious factions and brigands are flourishing. Consequently, many vital trade paths have been severed, and business has stalled. We are in a position where the fallout could eventually impact His Grace or Your Highness.”

“In short, we should meet to devise a joint strategy?”

“Precisely so.”

“I see. I take your meaning.”

A cynical grin crossed Lucian’s face. Just as he suspected, the invitation was merely the hook. The actual goal was to remind Lucian of his current vulnerability—the fact that the bulk of his food supplies came through external trade—and create a sense of impending doom. They were signaling that even if a direct military strike was inconvenient, they were perfectly capable of strangling his logistics.

No, there’s a second layer. They are also trying to rattle the other lords of the North. Unlike me, who can survive a temporary trade freeze, a sudden halt in grain shipments would be a death sentence for the smaller, weaker houses.

It was a remarkably sharp “soft” jab. By sowing seeds of panic regarding food security throughout the North and nurturing those doubts, some lords would naturally start looking for a safety net. If executed correctly, the Marquis might find several lords willing to betray Lucian in exchange for a steady supply of wheat. Compared to the minor effort of sending a herald to spread a few whispers, it was a highly cost-effective maneuver.

“I am grateful for the gesture, but I simply cannot spare the time for such a long journey, so I must decline. Please deliver my regrets to the Marquis.”

“Your Highness, this concerns the very stability of the Empire; it isn’t a matter to be brushed off. The destiny of the realm is in your hands.”

“It is a bit clumsy of me to admit, but a trip where my personal safety is not guaranteed is out of the question. I have the weight of the North on my shoulders; I cannot act with such recklessness.”

“If that is your concern, you are welcome to bring your personal guard. I will obtain prior consent from the other Western lords to allow your passage.”

Lucian narrowed his gaze at the herald’s stubbornness. They should have already secured half of their objective; why was he pushing so hard? If the refusal was given, shouldn’t he just depart and start whispering in the ears of the Northern nobles?

As Lucian watched the herald in silence, trying to solve the puzzle of his persistence, the final, true motive came to light.

“I ask your pardon for my repetitive nagging. However, this matter is inextricably linked to the survival of the North. If Your Highness refuses to come, I would at least ask to invite the other lords of your realm to engage in this dialogue.”

“Ha.”

Lucian couldn’t help but let out a sharp, mocking sound. It seemed they weren’t just going to spread rumors; they planned to officially invite his vassals to the West to brainwash them. This wasn’t just bold; it was an act of open disrespect.

To think they would attempt to hold private summits with his lords after Lucian had already claimed the throne. Furthermore, they wanted these meetings to take place in a location where his spies and eyes could never reach.

“Cease this nonsense. If even my own safety cannot be assured, what lord in his right mind would travel to the West and expect to return?”

“That is exactly why we will allow an unlimited number of bodyguards. Even if a lord brings only a handful of men, once they all gather, they will form a force as large as an army. Surely that would make the trek safe?”

“What…!”

Lucian’s eyes flared wide just as he was preparing to argue how idiotic the suggestion was.

No cap on the number of escorts? They would permit entry even to a group that rivaled a military battalion?

“Wait. Does that condition apply to me as well?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You said I could bring as many guards as I deem necessary.”

“Uh… yes, that is what I said.”

The herald nodded with a hint of confusion at Lucian’s sudden shift in energy. He couldn’t very well walk back a statement he had just used as a selling point.

Having secured that confirmation, Lucian rose from his throne, a wide, triumphant smile spreading across his face.

“Excellent! I accept the invitation!”

“Wh-what did you say?”

“I said I will take the Marquis up on his offer. It would be discourteous to keep saying no when your side is being so accommodating. I shall set out for the West the moment our preparations are finished!”

Ernst the herald stood frozen, staring at Lucian in total shock. He had framed the entire conversation around the certainty of a rejection, yet Lucian was actually intending to march into the West.

Watching the bewildered Ernst, Lucian let out a booming laugh.

“Since your master was the one to invite me, I trust the welcome for his guest will be nothing short of spectacular.”

—

“This is insanity! The West is essentially Marquis Bernhardt’s fortress!”

“A dinner party when we should be mobilizing the infantry! I absolutely forbid it!”

When Lucian broke the news of the invitation to his inner circle, the reaction was one of pure horror. What would a ruthless competitor in a collapsing empire do when his greatest rival walked straight into his territory? He would seize the chance to kill him and wipe out the threat in one stroke.

Furthermore, Marquis Bernhardt was a veteran who had survived decades of high-stakes political warfare. He was a master of the “hidden knife,” making him the most lethal kind of adversary.

“We cannot allow you to go! If you insist on this path, you will have to step over our dead bodies!”

“Listen to me first. Who said I was going there defenseless? I am taking an entire army with me.”

“What? An army?”

“They explicitly stated I could bring as many escorts as I wanted. They said it wouldn’t matter if the force was the size of a military legion.”

“…Did they truly say that?”

“Indeed. It seems the original plan was to use that ‘generous’ offer as a way to lure the other lords into coming.”

In reality, the logic of the trap wasn’t flawed. There was a natural ceiling to how many soldiers a single house could mobilize. If you only looked at the troops available for a long-distance expedition, that number shrank even further, as men had to stay behind to keep the peace and guard the home front.

The Marquis likely assumed that no matter how many guards Lucian scrounged up, it would be a number his own household could easily crush. He probably figured Lucian was aware of this math and would never take the bait.

“If the other lords and I moved as one, it might be a threat, but he likely wasn’t worried. He figured if I accepted, the other lords would stay home to avoid the crossfire, and if only the lords went, no matter how many there were, they wouldn’t have the courage to defy the House of Roglan.”

If a few Northern lords took the invitation, they would be bribed or threatened into becoming moles. If Lucian blocked them, the Marquis would use it to paint Lucian as a tyrant to spark a rebellion. And if Lucian actually showed up with a small guard, they could just assassinate him.

It was a flawless chess move that promised a win regardless of the response. The only problem was that Marquis Bernhardt had overlooked one catastrophic detail.

“He failed to realize that the Northern Kingdom is far more cohesive than he imagined.”

“To be more precise, he didn’t realize our hierarchy is absolute and unbreakable.”

In truth, whichever detail he missed was irrelevant to the Marquis now. Soon, the West would be forced to deal with Lucian’s massive, unified military force.

“I’ll need to request a formal letter of introduction from the First Prince.”

Lucian’s grin grew sharper at the unexpected opening. He could only imagine the look on Marquis Bernhardt’s face when a massive war machine, far beyond his wildest calculations, rolled into the heart of the West.