Chapter 76

Chapter 76
Chapter 76
‘Did my ears deceive me?’

It was not a rare occurrence for a common-born person to turn a knight away.

Typically, unless the visitor was of particularly high status, they would announce their presence through an intermediary. If the head of the house declined the meeting, the servant would simply pass along that refusal.

However, that standard protocol only applied when the servant functioned as a basic messenger.

The dynamic shifted entirely when the messenger neglected to even report the visitor’s arrival and instead offered up his own mocking commentary.

“…What nonsense are you spouting? No, before that—why are you making executive decisions without even informing your master of my presence?”

“Because the Young Master already provided my instructions. I won’t be repeating them. Just depart without making a scene. Don’t be a bother.”

“You insane fool!”

Screeech.

Consumed by a flare of temper, Palmyr instinctively gripped and unsheathed the blade at his hip.

For a brief heartbeat after the steel cleared the scabbard, he thought, ‘Wait,’ but upon further reflection, the turn of events wasn’t disadvantageous. He had been searching for a pretext to seize control before the actual discussions started, and a flawless justification had just fallen into his lap.

‘He is one of the soldiers the brat brought with him to the North. His position is merely a squad leader, but if he traveled this far, he must be a confidant or a highly valued subordinate.’

At the very least, he wasn’t a disposable pawn Lucian would cast aside lightly.

If Palmyr made a move to execute this disrespectful brat, Lucian would undoubtedly rush out to intervene. In that moment, Palmyr could naturally orchestrate a scenario where Lucian became indebted to him.

Furthermore, it would drag Lucian out into the open. It was an ideal way to accomplish two goals simultaneously.

“A simple commoner must have a death wish! I ought to claim your head this instant for the offense of mocking the nobility, but if you drop to your knees and plead for mercy, I might overlook it just this once!”

Having finished his mental gymnastics, Palmyr leveled his sword at the man, playing the role of a knight consumed by righteous fury. In reality, he had no intention of being lenient, but he needed to make it look as though he were offering a final opportunity.

‘Given this fellow’s haughty demeanor, he will surely decline—’

“Good grief, you’re loud. You look like you haven’t the faintest idea how to handle a blade, yet you carry the arrogance of a true knight.”

Palmyr, who had been smirking internally, blinked in stunned silence once more.

An instant later, his complexion turned a violent shade of crimson, and his limbs began to quake with genuine, white-hot anger.

“Y-you… you madman…!”

“What? You have an issue? If you’re bothered, go ahead and swing that toothpick. Not that someone with your level of talent could actually hit anything anyway.”

“I’ll end you!”

Unable to restrain himself a second longer, Palmyr lashed out with his sword using every ounce of his strength.

For the sake of the upcoming talks, he couldn’t actually slay the man, but he felt it was necessary to lop off an arm to appease his wounded pride.

The edge whistled down toward the squad leader’s collarbone, aiming to detach his right limb.

Clang!

“Urgh?!”

Palmyr’s frame jerked as his center of gravity collapsed, and a vibration that felt as though it would shatter his palms raced through his body. He barely maintained his grip on the hilt and was forced to stumble back several paces before he could steady himself.

‘Who dared to interfere this time?!’

Palmyr ground his teeth and scanned the area. To deliver a counter-force that powerful against a knight like him, it had to be another trained warrior. Someone must have stepped in.

However, aside from the disrespectful squad leader and a handful of mundane guards, there were only curious onlookers standing a significant distance away.

‘What just occurred? Did someone hurl a projectile from the shadows?’

“You actually took a swing. Are you truly unable to evaluate your own incompetence, Sir Knight?”

The squad leader’s derisive tone hit Palmyr’s ears again. Just as the fuming knight prepared to shout another insult—

“…A sword?”

“Yeah, it’s a sword, as you can clearly see.”

The squad leader smirked, casually twirling the blade he had pulled from his belt. Witnessing that nonchalant movement, Palmyr’s pupils trembled with shock.

“Did… did you actually deflect it?”

“Who else? A spirit?”

“…This is madness!”

A lowly squad leader had parried his full-force strike?

Even if Palmyr took more pride in his diplomatic skills than his combat prowess, he was still a titled knight. He could envision being overwhelmed by a massive crowd or a volley of shafts, but he had never even considered the possibility of being repelled by a single foot soldier in a duel.

“What are you waiting for? You unsheathed your weapon, so show me a real fight.”

“…!”

“I assume you aren’t terrified just because a single blow was caught. If that’s the case, then the reputation of the House of Calix you represent is also…”

“Silence! How dare a lowborn dog even utter the name of the Count’s family!”

Palmyr bellowed, glancing around at his surroundings. He had managed to cut off the insulting sentence before it finished, but his outburst had only attracted a larger crowd of spectators.

If he retreated now, his personal dignity—to say nothing of the prestige of the Count’s house—would be dragged through the dirt.

“Curse you! Fine! Today, I will personally claim your life and uphold the Imperial Code!”

“That’s more like it.”

Any lingering thoughts of diplomacy had evaporated as Palmyr radiated a murderous aura.

Watching the display, the squad leader, Hugo, gave a sharp grin and shifted into a focused combat stance.

“Let’s find out exactly what a knight from the House of Calix is truly worth.”

—

“Observe. The contest has barely concluded, and they are already desperate to pay their respects to you.”

Harald, who had escorted Lucian to a private guest chamber within the Lord’s Manor, gestured toward the window. Exactly as he noted, the knights who had been dispatched as observers were all making their way toward the residence.

“It is a relief. If the intelligence had been delayed, Calix would have attempted to seize the initiative.”

“Let them try. Even if they advocate for the unification of the North, the highest title that man can reach is merely a spokesman. He has no authority to crown himself King and issue commands to us.”

Harald dismissed Lucian’s concern with a casual wave of his hand.

He wasn’t mistaken. Regardless of how many minor lords the House of Calix recruited, they couldn’t legally dictate their actions. They could only function as the figurehead of a grand coalition, possessing a bit more leverage than their peers. If they attempted to meddle in the domestic matters of other lords, their support would vanish instantly.

“But you are a different story.”

Harald let out a booming laugh, though his face quickly transitioned to a somber, intense expression as he focused on Lucian.

“You have established yourself as a true combatant. And you achieved it by strictly adhering to Northern customs, which captivated everyone. Even those who weren’t present for our clash today will soon discover the caliber of man you are.”

“….”

“Most importantly, the lineage of Grimaldi is unmistakable in you. Now that your prowess has been validated, most people would concede even if you were to assert the prerogatives of the Royal Family.”

“Your Excellency.”

“Do not misinterpret me. I am not suggesting you ignite a coup against the Empire.”

At the sound of Lucian’s deep, resonant voice, Harald quickly gestured in denial. He intended to convey that Lucian was needed as a unifying icon, not that he wished to spark a revolt to bring back the old Kingdom.

“I will be blunt. The North is in dire need of a spiritual anchor right now.”

“A spiritual anchor? Do the rugged folk of the North truly require such a thing?”

“They most certainly do. No matter how resilient the North remains, people are inevitably unsettled by the shifting era.”

“What is the specific source of their anxiety?”

“The current state of affairs between the Imperial Family and the North.”

Harald hesitated, releasing a heavy breath as he sank into his seat. Aside from the formidable warrior he had appeared to be moments ago, he now looked drained by the massive burden of his leadership.

“Recently, the Imperial Family has displayed nothing but fragility. Naturally, that doesn’t mean the North is seeking total independence, but everyone is apprehensive about how a cornered Imperial Family might behave.”

The North had been a province of the Empire for generations, yet their bond with the Imperial Family was remote. The territory was too harsh to yield significant crops, but their warrior culture made their martial potential immense. If the Empire pressed too hard, they would gain very little while inciting a rebellion, so they were forced to leave the North largely to its own devices.

The North appreciated this arrangement. They functioned as citizens of the Empire, reaping the benefits of trade and diligently paying their dues.

“We wish to preserve this status quo if we can. But does the Imperial Family share that desire?”

“Why wouldn’t they? They are already plagued by numerous problems; they won’t want to transform the North into a foe.”

“Correct. The issue is that the Imperial Family’s confidence is just as problematic as their enmity. We don’t want to be unfairly suspected, but we also have no desire to become more integrated than we already are.”

“…?”

“Consider this. If you were desperate for funds, would you approach a casual acquaintance or a trusted close friend for help?”

Only after hearing Harald’s comparison did Lucian finally grasp the mindset of the Northerners.

‘They don’t want their ties with the Empire to break, but even more so, they don’t want to sacrifice their lives on behalf of the Imperial Family by fulfilling requests for military aid.’

It was a logical stance, given the history between the two. The North was a place where border skirmishes were perpetual and every life was vital. To insist they send out battalions by pointing to a lord’s obligation would demand too much from the people.

“A few short-sighted individuals have become restless and are igniting border wars, attempting to absorb their neighbors. They believe they must expand their territory and power before the Imperial Family demands their service.”

“Is that the reason they are aligning with Calix, who employs the Grimaldi name?”

“Most likely. There are several who fervently back him, but the majority probably just feel the North needs to be consolidated so we can negotiate as a single entity.”

Ultimately, it came down to a lack of security. Because everyone felt vulnerable, they overreacted to the smallest shifts from their neighbors, leading to further escalations. To complicate matters, groups dreaming of genuine Northern autonomy were running wild, exploiting the instability.

‘They truly do need a central figure. If this continues, the North will be the first place where major conflict erupts.’

In his previous existence, the Emperor had completely lost his sanity, causing the North to stay quiet and avoid notice. Once the Emperor fell and no longer had the resources to focus on the North, they had relaxed and resumed their traditional ways. Even when the true era of turmoil began, the North had its internal feuds, but it was nothing out of the ordinary.

Essentially, the Imperial Family’s current, indecisive stance was making the North more jittery than it had been in his past life.

“Your Excellency, you are asking me to be more than just a man reclaiming the Grimaldi identity. You want me to be the heart of the North.”

“I won’t demand that you restore House Grimaldi this instant. It would be arrogant of me to ask a Valdek like yourself to waste away in a remote place like this. However, I hope you will remain a Valdek while acting as a conduit to speak with the Imperial Family.”

“If that is the case…”

Lucian met Harald’s gaze directly and spoke with a low, commanding tone, his manner of speaking shifting to that of a superior.

“How would you respond if I were to demand the authorities of the Royal Family itself?”

“…!”

Harald went rigid at the sudden transformation in Lucian’s speech. By referencing the Royal Family rather than just the Grimaldi name, Lucian was signaling an ambition for the throne. He was asking where Harald’s loyalty would lie if Lucian didn’t just act as a puppet, but truly re-established the Northern Kingdom.

“….”

“….”

During the heavy, tense silence, Harald abruptly rose and grabbed a bottle of mead from the shelf. He pressed it to his mouth and drank without a pause.

Gulp, gulp, gulp.

The incredibly strong spirit vanished down his throat until the container was empty. Harald shook the bottle once and then crashed it onto the wood with a thunderous bang.

Despite consuming an entire bottle of mead, Harald’s eyes weren’t just focused—they were terrifyingly sharp.

“If you truly intend to forge the Northern Kingdom once again…”

Harald started in a whisper, but his voice was soon filled with a fierce, burning conviction as he gave Lucian his answer.

“Then this old soldier shall be the very first to hoist the colors and march behind Your Majesty!”