Chapter 41

Chapter 41
## Chapter 41

“Is it possible His Highness the First Prince is currently away?”

“No, no. That isn’t the issue… *Sigh*!”

In response to Lucian’s inquiry, Jurgen let out a heavy, weary breath.

His demeanor suggested he actually preferred it if the Prince were absent.

After a brief pause, Jurgen shut his eyes tight and produced an object from his person.

“For the time being, please take this.”

“What exactly is this? A disguise?”

Lucian accepted the item with a look of pure confusion.

His first thought was that it might be some sort of magical artifact, but it was nothing of the sort.

It was merely a simple mask—the kind of thin, flimsy thing one might see at a masquerade.

“Why are you handing me a mask out of the blue?”

“Until every lord involved in the Allied Forces has arrived, I must ask that you wear this. Furthermore, you should avoid revealing your true identity if at all possible.”

“What is the meaning of this?”

“It is a game currently in vogue among the high-standing social circles. Individuals socialize while masked to obscure their status, only to unveil themselves when the time is right.”

“A game?”

Lucian’s brow furrowed as he listened to Jurgen’s justification.

There was a specific word in that explanation he found impossible to ignore.

“Did you truly just use the word ‘game’?”

“Yes. I do not fully grasp it myself, but I am told it is remarkably effective at building rapport. It allows people to interact regardless of the hierarchy of their noble standing…”

“That is hardly the point. We have gathered here to quell an uprising, not to attend a social gala.”

Looking entirely defeated, Jurgen gave a slow nod.

It was a point beyond reproach, yet his face signaled that his hands were tied by a higher power.

“In truth, His Highness the First Prince proposed this himself as a means to encourage unity within the Allied Forces.”

“The First Prince suggested this personally?”

“He did. Therefore, I implore you. You may find the idea loathsome, but there is a logic behind it in its own fashion…”

“Ha.”

A dry, mirthless chuckle escaped Lucian’s throat.

Logic, indeed.

No matter how one spun it, this was clearly a scheme devised by the First Prince for his own petty entertainment.

The man likely wanted the sport of watching lords stumble over one another in total ignorance of who they were speaking to.

Has the man lost his wits? It would be one thing to play such a trick on Court Nobles, but to pull such a stunt on the Territorial Nobles…

The Court Nobles, lacking land of their own, were essentially the personal servants of the Imperial Throne.

Even if they were the butt of such a prank, they would never dare voice a grievance.

However, the Territorial Nobles assembled here were of a completely different breed.

They commanded their own private armies, and their allegiance to the crown was not something that could be taken for granted.

Under normal circumstances, one would treat them with at least a baseline level of dignity.

Even if I were to overlook him playing games with minor houses, doing this to me—the acting representative of the Grand Ducal House of Valdek—is far beyond the pale. This is an affront that could easily be viewed as a formal insult.

If one felt generous, it was a joke; if one felt slighted, it was a profound indignity.

The First Prince’s little game was teetering on that razor-thin line.

Jurgen’s grim expression proved he was well aware of the stakes.

Clicking his tongue in irritation, Lucian finally took the mask and spoke.

“Fine. I suppose a bit of levity before the start of a campaign isn’t entirely misplaced. I doubt its effectiveness, but if it is His Highness’s wish, I shall comply as his loyal subject.”

“Th-thank you! I am deeply grateful, Lord Lucian!”

Upon hearing Lucian’s concession, Jurgen bowed over and over again, looking like a prisoner who had just received a last-minute pardon.

Lucian had essentially agreed to bury a slight that could have ignited a diplomatic firestorm against House Valdek, choosing to treat it as a harmless prank instead.

“Truly, House Valdek remains the bedrock of the Empire! With an heir as perceptive as Lord Lucian, the family is destined to thrive alongside the realm for generations!”

“I am not the heir.”

“Perhaps not officially, not yet. But I can see it plainly through the grace you’ve shown today. The one meant to shoulder the legacy of House Valdek in the days to come is surely you, Lord Lucian.”

Another wave of blatant praise followed from Jurgen.

Lucian offered a dismissive nod and moved to enter the camp.

Panicked, Jurgen stepped in to block his way.

“P-please, just one more moment. There is more I must convey.”

“What now? Do you intend to supervise me putting the mask on right this second?”

“I would be much obliged if you did. I also have a cloak for you to wrap yourself in to further obscure your frame. The regulations state you must remain as anonymous as possible while moving about, and you are permitted only a single escort…”

From there, Jurgen spent a tedious amount of time detailing minor rules while visibly sweating.

As the lecture dragged on, Lucian rubbed his aching temples.

The state of these Allied Forces was shaping up to be a total farce.

—

“I wonder if the First Prince truly understands the weight of his actions. This is nothing short of a slight against House Valdek!”

Once the briefing concluded and they had retreated to their tent, Gerard voiced his sharp disapproval.

Unlike Lucian, Gerard found it impossible to dismiss this as mere ‘entertainment.’

“Third Son, there is no obligation for you to participate in the Prince’s whims. Even if you were to cause a scene here, the Grand Duke and the Emperor himself would surely understand your position.”

“And in doing so, the morale of the entire Allied Forces would be ruined. Do you believe a man who treats war like a game would respond with reason if I challenged him?”

“That is…”

Gerard went quiet at Lucian’s sharp logic.

The First Prince was a man who toyed with high-ranking nobles for fun.

If a conflict erupted, he was far more likely to lash out emotionally than to resolve the matter through diplomacy.

“For the moment, it doesn’t appear the First Prince harbors any genuine ill will, so we will let it pass. Besides, this masked business actually provides a few benefits.”

“There are benefits to this?”

“It makes it far easier to discern the actual thoughts of the various lords. If we met while displaying our official titles, everyone would hide behind a mask of courtly manners anyway.”

House Valdek was the premier family of the Empire, surpassed only by the royals.

Simply put, no one—aside from their direct political rivals—would ever show their true face to them.

No one wanted to risk the consequences of offending the Grand Duke’s household.

But under a mask, they could hide their status, if only for a short while.

“Identities won’t stay hidden for long, but until they are revealed, we can have more honest dialogues. Since I’ve agreed to play the Prince’s game, I might as well turn it to my advantage.”

“Hmm, is such a thing truly necessary? I worry it will only spark pointless friction.”

“It is necessary.”

To be more accurate, it was necessary for Lucian’s personal goals, rather than for the Head of Valdek.

If he were to formally lead the house, the private opinions of minor lords wouldn’t carry much weight.

Regardless of their personal feelings, they would never show them to the Grand Duke.

However, for Lucian—who planned to eventually strike out on his own—this was a prime chance to study the temperaments of the lords.

*I need to watch them closely; a time may come when this knowledge becomes a weapon. Information is never a waste.*

“If that is your judgment, Third Son, then I shall follow your lead.”

Gerard, oblivious to Lucian’s hidden motives, gave a stoic nod.

Since Lucian held full command, Gerard had no grounds to object once a decision was finalized.

“However, I believe the rules dictate you are only allowed one companion when moving through the grounds.”

“Correct. Unfortunately, Sir Gerard, that means you must remain here.”

“Who do you intend to bring as your guard?”

“Sir Raymond, naturally.”

Hugo possessed the talent, but he lacked the social standing required for such a role.

Since every other noble would be flanked by a knight, Lucian couldn’t bring a commoner into that environment.

If he were restricted to a single person, Raymond—a veteran of the Black Lions—was the only logical choice.

“Well then, now that the plan is set, shall we go see what this is all about?”

Lucian donned the mask and made his way toward the ‘social area’ established by the First Prince.

He was curious to see how the other aristocrats would navigate this ridiculous scenario.

—

“…There are far fewer attendees than I anticipated.”

A sigh escaped Lucian’s lips.

Despite his own disguise, the number of nobles present was barely half of what the camp’s flags suggested.

Raymond, acting as his silent shadow, scanned the area and offered a wry smile.

“It stands to reason, doesn’t it? There is no real incentive for them to humor the Prince’s nonsense.”

“So even if they don’t voice a protest, they simply hide in their tents and refuse to join in.”

“Precisely. Honestly, it’s a miracle that even half of them showed up.”

That was a fair point.

An experienced noble would choose to stay absent rather than risk getting caught in a messy situation caused by a prank.

They likely calculated that the Prince’s minor annoyance was a small price to pay for avoiding trouble.

“And yet, the half that did show up are either from minor families who fear the throne, or they are too dim-witted to consider the political optics. Or…”

“Because they are hungry for connections. Surprisingly, forging bonds in a setting like this can be quite useful down the road. Or perhaps they are bracing for the chaotic shifts happening within the Empire lately.”

At the sound of the unexpected voice, Lucian and Raymond turned simultaneously.

Standing there was a noble cloaked and masked just like Lucian, accompanied by his own guard.

Judging by his voice and the glimpse of skin beneath the mask, he seemed to be roughly Lucian’s age.

“…Nigel Crecy?”

Catching sight of a distinct scar beneath the man’s lip, Lucian spoke the name before he could stop himself.

The man started, clearly shocked by the recognition.

“You know who I am?”

Of course I do.

How could I ever forget Nigel, the man known as the ‘Bat Baron’?

Despite his low rank as a Baron, he was a virtuoso of diplomacy who had successfully protected his borders until the very day Lucian had died.

In his previous life, Lucian had even served under Nigel for a brief period.

His talent for pushing an adversary just far enough to force a deal, then knowing exactly when to pivot, was masterful.

He was a genius at using bluffs against superior forces to stall them or hinting at alliances with other factions to create leverage.

Though he lacked raw power, he maintained his autonomy until the end through sheer diplomatic brilliance.

But I can hardly mention my past life here.

Lucian decided to deflect by bringing up a well-known story about the man.

“My apologies. I noticed the mark on your lip and took a gamble. It seems I was correct.”

“Ah… this. Good heavens, it seems a minor accident has gained more fame than it deserves.”

Nigel offered a weary smile and touched the scar, which had been carved by a bird of prey.

The tale of his older brother accidentally throwing a hawk’s kill at Nigel’s face during a hunt was legendary in his province.

In truth, the story was famous because of the persistent rumors that the brother had done it with malicious intent.

“Hold on. Since you’ve identified me, let me try my hand at guessing yours. Hmm… are you perhaps from House Dampierre?”

“I am not.”

“Then House Kleist?”

“Wrong again.”

Nigel cycled through several prominent family names, but none hit the mark.

The issue was that he didn’t even consider the possibility that Lucian belonged to a Great Family, so he didn’t name anyone ranked higher than a Count.

Eventually, Nigel chuckled and held up his hands in defeat.

“I give up, I give up. This is quite humbling. I fancied myself a good judge of people, yet I can’t even deduce your house, let alone your name.”

“I find it more remarkable that you are so familiar with so many lineages and their traits. You weren’t just guessing; you were looking for potential allies, weren’t you?”

“Oh, you’ve seen right through me?”

Nigel rubbed the back of his neck, looking a bit embarrassed.

Despite Lucian’s bluntness in naming him, the initial meeting was going smoothly.

Leaning into the conversation, Lucian decided to follow up on Nigel’s earlier comment.

“You mentioned it before. You said nobles are here because they are desperate for ties or are preparing for the Empire’s changes. I follow the logic of the former, but what did you mean by the latter?”

“Exactly what I said. The Empire has been a powder keg lately.”

The two began to stroll through the area as they spoke.

Sensing the weight of the topic, Nigel lowered his voice to a cautious murmur.

“There is the brewing conflict over the succession involving the First Prince, the constant stirring from those Empire Liberation Front fanatics, the shifting moods of the vassal states, and now even the mages who were in hiding are starting to act up. Nothing has caught fire yet, but the tension is high because no one knows when the spark will fly. In a climate like this, a single new ally is worth their weight in gold.”

“To support one another during a crisis? Because current alliances might not hold?”

“It’s more that you never know when your current allies might simply vanish. When the storm finally hits, the people you rely on are often the first to be swept away.”

I understand now.

They are casting a wide net for connections because a relationship they’ve spent years building could be rendered useless by a single catastrophe.

Even a tenuous connection made at a masked party was better than standing alone.

“The older, more established lords think the younger generation is just being paranoid, but I can’t shake the feeling of dread. It isn’t just the royal family; even the Grand Ducal House of Valdek is in a state of upheaval.”

Lucian felt a jolt of surprise.

Why was Valdek being brought up now?

“Is there something happening within House Valdek?”

“You haven’t heard the rumors? Word is the Third Son, who spent his life hidden away, suddenly emerged and started making massive waves. He dismantled Marquis Roglan’s plot, outmaneuvered the Empire Liberation Front, and even secured the backing of the Sword Saint, Sir Eisen.”

“I-is that the case?”

“It’s a lot more than just ‘the case.’ All of that is already shocking, but there are even whispers that he is attending this very campaign as the Grand Duke’s proxy with absolute authority. It’s a development that completely upends the succession, and I can’t even imagine the chaos that will follow.”

“….”

“I might be speaking out of turn, but people of our station need to keep our heads down right now. When the giants clash, it’s the small folk who get crushed. I hear this Third Son is quite young, but don’t let his age fool you; be extremely careful. Even a young lion is still a lion. He might be masking a truly ruthless nature behind a youthful face.”

“That… is a very insightful point….”