Viscount Bedron felt his mind go blank. But he accepted the situation soon enough.
Though he had always been a man with a fiery temper, he wasn’t foolish. Had he been, he would never have risen to his current position.
Once he regained his composure, the very first thing he did was acknowledge the White Whale Mercenary Group as a worthy opponent.
“So, they had a hidden card of their own.”
They had outmaneuvered him.
Even if he sent a letter to the head of the MacGray Merchant Guild now, it would take a considerable amount of time before he could return.
We have to defend against all of their attacks, but they don’t have to defend against ours. We’re at a clear disadvantage.
Normally, the defending side holds the advantage, but the enemy had nothing left to protect.
Naturally, the situation was terribly unfavorable for Viscount Bedron.
Should I appeal for fairness in this confrontation?
No. That wouldn’t work.
The head of the MacGray Merchant Guild had left on the very day Chairlse had sent the invitation via Requiem.
Which meant the enemy clearly understood the ancient traditions Requiem adhered to.
These people don’t just have ordinary intelligence.
There was definitely someone behind the White Whale Mercenary Group.
Bedron felt a chill run down his spine.
Chairlse felt the same.
Just who the hell is this guy?
It wasn’t just anyone. The person had driven the calculating Viscount Bedron into complete disarray.
He couldn’t even begin to guess how many moves ahead that man was thinking.
“Chairlse. Get me everything you can on them. Fast.”
“I’ve already given the order in advance.”
In truth, Chairlse had already gathered ample information on the White Whale Mercenary Group.
But he had released it to Bedron with a slight delay, just to tilt the situation against him.
And once Bedron finished reading it all, his face twisted into a demonic scowl.
“The Gillen Merchant Guild. So it was them!”
Bedron realized things had taken a serious turn for the worse.
MacGray, that filthy pig…he’s betrayed me!
Considering the Gillen Merchant Guild’s wealth, it made sense that MacGray had left without reporting anything to him.
After all, MacGray had long wanted to leave the black market and do business out in the open.
The Gillen Guild must’ve seen that opening and made him an offer.
“Damn idiot!”
A wave of dizziness hit him again, but Viscount Bedron barely managed to steady himself.
“This doesn’t end with him. I need to focus on the other pieces right now.”
At first, he’d thought he’d gain Basai’s legacy thanks to a bunch of fools, but this wasn’t playing out like some trivial affair.
The Gillen Merchant Guild’s involvement meant this was no ordinary organizational move.
Who had been backing the Gillen Guild lately in Blackout?
None other than Count Albert Mordenain!
A man closer to the Emperor than anyone, and one who had sworn unwavering loyalty to him.
Could someone like that move without the Emperor’s knowledge…or even his will?
Is the Emperor targeting the noble faction? Is that why he’s digging into my affairs?
It might’ve sounded crazy.
But Viscount Bedron hadn’t climbed this high by luck.
He had always sensed the ones coming for him before they made their move.
Crack.
If even the Count was in motion, things were about to get truly dangerous.
There was a chance Merchant MacGray hadn’t even made it to the Vandrane Sea.
What if he’d been captured and was now being interrogated by the Count’s men?
“Chairlse.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Take out the White Whale Mercenaries.”
If they were targeting him, then he had to strike back.
He couldn’t go after the Gillen Guild directly, but if he wiped out the White Whale Mercenaries and fabricated the scene to look like they had attempted to assassinate him, it would turn the tables.
However, Chairlse who hadn’t quite followed Bedron’s train of thought asked again.
“In this city, my lord?”
Lately, the White Whale Mercenaries had become the center of attention.
Since they had been keeping a low profile for a while, public attention was slowly fading. But many eyes were still watching.
…And he’s telling me to clean them up in this situation?
It was obvious. He was just being used as a disposable pawn.
But instead of answering, Viscount Bedron snapped and shouted at Chairlse.
“Yes! Don’t make me say it twice like a damn fool!”
“…I will follow your command.”
Chairlse bowed deeply while scowling inwardly.
That bastard.
But refusing the order wasn’t an option.
He had blades of revenge he could use. But more than that… he and his people were far too entangled with Bedron to pull out easily now.
This is dangerous for us, too.
Still, Chairlse had no intention of giving up.
I’ll meet with the White Whale Mercenaries first. Since Bedron has eyes on me, I’ll have to take a capture approach.
Though Bedron had ordered their complete extermination, Chairlse wasn’t planning to go that far.
He too had started to grasp the true scope of what was happening.
Behind the White Whale Mercenaries is the Gillen Guild… and behind the Gillen Guild is the Count.
If things went well, he might even be able to use the Count’s power to eliminate Bedron.
But for that to happen, the first step was clear—
I need to capture the mage.
***
“Well now, it’s been a while. I hear you had an audience with His Majesty.”
Count Mordenain savored the aroma of his tea as he looked at the man before him.
A year ago, this mercenary leader wouldn’t even have dared lift his head in front of him.
“It was truly an honor.”
“Hah! And yet, from what I hear, you walked away with quite a lot. And you’ve brought more to the table, haven’t you?”
“You’ve heard that much?”
“Of course. Still, I’m grateful you’ve continued to honor our arrangement.”
Just as the Count said, Jun had remained neutral among the imperial factions.
But there was something Jun had always wondered about and now he decided to ask.
“If I may… there’s something I’d like to ask that might be a bit rude.”
“Between us? There’s nothing you can’t ask. Go ahead.”
“From what I’ve seen, the imperial family members didn’t seem to have particularly bad relations with one another.”
“Hmm. Yes, that’s true.”
“Then may I ask. Why did you keep urging me to remain neutral?”
Jun had a fair grasp of the hidden affairs unfolding among the imperial members.
After all, that was the central storyline of the game.
Still, the Count’s insistence on neutrality felt odd. Unless he somehow knew the future.
“I see. I suppose I owe you an explanation.”
The Count narrowed his eyes as if recalling a memory from the past.
“As you may already know, His Majesty the Emperor is a benevolent ruler who truly cares for his people. A wise and virtuous monarch.”
Jun was well aware of that. His Majesty was famous for his gentle nature.
“However, there are those who dare to cast impious eyes upon such a ruler.”
“…You mean the noble faction?”
“Yes. They’re greedy to the core. Fools who don’t even understand how the wealth they’ve hoarded over generations was truly built.”
“……”
“Especially some among them. There are those trying to manipulate Lady Beneth, Javier’s mother, like a puppet.”
At last, Jun understood why the Count had urged him to stay centered.
So that’s it. He may not know what the future holds, but he’s smart enough to sense what’s coming.
The Count continued.
“Of course, Sir Javier is a kind and wounded soul… but even he is not immune to the whispers of cunning flatterers.”
And the Count feared that Arcio—no, Aiden—might become the spark that set it all off.
“Right now, the noble faction dreams of reform. And Sir Arcio, who is with you, shares many traits with Sir Javier.”
That was why, should the discarded prince and the third prince begin wielding power within the imperial family, the situation would spiral.
With that judgment, the Count had warned Jun long ago to remain neutral.
“I see. It finally makes sense now.”
“So please… continue as you are, for the peace of the Empire.”
Jun had no intention of dragging Aiden into a power struggle anyway.
And more importantly…. he was already preparing to snuff that fire out before it had the chance to spread.
“Now then, let’s return to the matter at hand. Bedron. That pig of a man. What do we do with him?”
The Count who loathed the noble faction asked with a glint in his eye.
***
The leader of Requiem Chairlse was observing the area around the luxurious inn where the White Whale Mercenaries were staying.
Targets like this one require especially cautious handling.
The opponent was a mage.
And not just any mage. It was one who was thoroughly meticulous.
Naturally, the building he was staying in had to be considered a fortress in itself.
Even if only half of the rumors they had gathered were true, Requiem in its current state couldn’t afford to make a careless move.
Do we have to wait until he comes out?
But unless the target was a fool, there was no way he’d leave the building without caution.
“Chairlse. The lord has ordered you to begin the operation immediately.”
The problem, however, was the pressure from Viscount Bedron.
Terrified by Count Mordenain’s name, Bedron was desperate to see the White Whale Mercenaries eliminated.
Naturally, Chairlse had no intention of stalling until the Count stepped in.
If the Viscount were captured, they too could end up pursued by the imperial forces.
But we can’t just rush in blindly either. Damn it.
How could they lure the mage holed up in that inn to come outside?
“Where are the other mercenaries?”
“One of them, the one carrying the Acanthus’s Fang, is inside the inn with him. The other two are absent.”
“Did they hide them somewhere else?”
Unaware of the Blackguard’s existence, Chairlse bit his lip in frustration.
But then—
Didn’t they say heaven grants chances to those who wait?
The long-awaited opportunity arrived.
“The mage has left the inn!”
Late in the predawn hours.
A report came in that the mage had started to move.
Chairlse immediately set off with his men in pursuit.
He came out alone?
The scent of a trap was unmistakable, but Chairlse had no other option.
Fighting inside the inn, which was likely fortified, was far worse than facing him outside, where defenses would be weaker.
“Chairlse. The Viscount said—”
“Shut it. I get it.”
Already on edge, Chairlse snapped when the Viscount’s underling started running his mouth.
How should we arrange our formation? And which direction is he headed?
Chairlse quickly summoned his men and sent them out to scout the surroundings.
The mage was heading toward a deserted area without any apparent preparation.
There could still be enemy forces waiting in ambush nearby.
Nothing out there?
Was it just needless worry? Or had he overestimated his opponent?
Or maybe… it’s confidence.
Whatever the case, Chairlse felt it was finally time to make a move.
Mages are more vulnerable to ambush than knights.
He didn’t know what kind of artifacts the target might be carrying, but surely he wouldn’t be without some countermeasures.
As an assassin, Chairlse was equipped with anti-magic artifacts.
If magic couldn’t be used, a mage was no more than a fragile ordinary person.
Move.
He sent a signal to his men who were spread out in all directions and just as he was about to act—
“……?!”
He couldn’t sense the presence of his allies who should have moved in response to his signal.
“Phertharos’s Mirror of Truth!”
The moment he activated his anti-magic equipment, Chairlse nearly fainted.
The surrounding scenery, which should have been a slum, instantly transformed into a forest.
In that instant, Chairlse realized with horror that he’d been caught in an illusion spell. His eyes snapped to the mage.
“Tch. Still not quite there yet, huh?”
Jun clicked his lips, sensing that the hallucination spell he had enhanced with ancient magic had dispelled more easily than he’d expected.
“Hey there. Nice to meet you, Charles.”
“…My name is Chairlse.”
“Nope. Your name is Charles now.”
For some reason, the friendly smile directed his way sent a deeper chill down Chairlse’s spine than anything else.
Leave a Reply