Chapter 54 - An Awl in the Pocket Is Bound to Poke Out (3)

Maximilian could not help but be flustered by how changed his brother was.

"He looks exactly like him."

The First Prince looked exceedingly pleased.

His gaze as he looked at his younger brother was far too deep for it to be simply because the reinforcements he had been waiting for had arrived.

"Brother."

Unable to endure the awkwardness, Maximilian opened his mouth.

"The soldiers are exhausted from pushing through the snowstorm."

"I see."

The First Prince, his eyes returning to their original arrogance, welcomed the reinforcements.

"Welcome to Winter Castle."

The First Prince welcoming them as though he were the lord of the castle himself, the Rangers who had somehow lined up and raised their swords, and the historic fortress rising high behind them.

The sight was so convincing that Maximilian could not help but be impressed.

If not for the corpses strewn everywhere, it would have been an impressive scene he would remember for quite a long time.

"Follow me."

The First Prince turned and walked calmly between the corpses.

Maximilian hesitated, then followed after him.

"Ugh."

A sudden, overpowering stench, the acrid smell of burning corpses, pierced his nose.

As he forced down the nausea rising in his throat and moved forward, the sound of retching came one after another from the rear of the formation.

When he looked back, the knights and soldiers were pale.

Even the seasoned captain and mercenaries of the Silver Fox Mercenaries looked sickened.

The reinforcements had no dignity left to speak of.

Maximilian made an effort to sound composed.

"It seems there was a battle."

At that, the First Prince replied as if it were nothing.

"Yeah, three days ago."

Without even looking back, the First Prince added one more thing.

"You'll get used to it soon."

He said it so casually that it sounded all the more chilling.

Just how much did one have to fight to feel nothing at the sight of dozens, hundreds of corpses?

Seeing Maximilian's somewhat appalled face, the Ranger platoon leader could no longer stand by and stepped in to comfort him.

"After you run into a living horde of Orcs once or twice, the ones lying dead like this will look almost pretty."

The problem was that it did not sound comforting at all.

"Looks like those people are here to greet you."

The First Prince tossed out the remark.

An older man and dozens of knights stood before the castle gate.

The Rangers who had acted as guides ran forward, gave a military salute, and stood behind him.

The older knight stepped forward and bowed his head lightly.

"Respect to the Leonberk Royal Family. I am Vale of Ballorhard."

"Respect to the shield that holds back the north wind. I am honored to meet the renowned Silver Lion of the kingdom, the shield that holds back the north wind. I am Maximilian."

"I express my boundless gratitude that the Royal Family has not forgotten the harshness of winter. You have endured much on the long road here."

"I apologize for arriving so late."

As routine greetings were exchanged, the First Prince beside them nudged the Ranger platoon leader.

The Ranger platoon leader took a horn from his chest and put it to his lips.

BWOOOOOO.

No sooner had the horn sounded than countless banners rose atop the wall.

Spears and swords appeared all at once.

Below them were the soldiers of Winter Castle.

CLACK.

"Welcome to Ballorhard!"

"Respect to the Royal Family's unchanging friendship!"

Maximilian, who had not even imagined a welcoming ceremony given the situation, looked moved.

Erhim Kilinger beside him gave him a subtle look.

Receiving that glance, Maximilian nodded and shouted toward the wall.

"I express my gratitude on behalf of the Royal Family for your struggle, your devotion, and your sacrifice! I offer respect to the men of Ballorhard!"

His sonorous reply, infused with mana, rang throughout all of Winter Castle.

The soldiers answered with cheers.

"Then let us go inside."

* * *

"Your Highness."

As Maximilian was resting from the journey, someone came to visit.

It was Erhim Kilinger, Vice-Commander of the Iron Lion Knights.

He looked as though he had something to say.

"Did you see the castle gate?"

When Maximilian told him to state his business, Erhim abruptly asked.

"The iron plates patched here and there somehow looked like signs of hasty repairs."

"You saw correctly. It seems the castle gate was breached."

At those words, Maximilian's expression hardened.

He had already guessed as much when he saw the corpses strewn before the castle, but he had never imagined the situation had grown so dire that even the castle gate had been breached.

"It seems the situation is far more serious than expected."

"And yet the people of Ballorhard do not look all that grim..."

They said a major battle had taken place only three days ago.

Surely many people must have died.

Even so, the Ranger platoon leader was cheerful, and there was no shadow on the count's face.

It was something Maximilian could not understand.

"Let us watch a little longer. We have far too little information for now."

It seemed they would need some time to fully understand this disjointed situation.

Erhim nodded, then asked as if the thought had just occurred to him.

"More importantly, how was it? Was it not a reunion between brothers after a long time?"

"I am simply flustered."

With a confused expression, Maximilian added one more thing.

"Though I was at least able to see that his nature is not the same as the rumors say."

They were brothers, but they had had no chance to meet.

Their father had not wanted it, and circumstances had not allowed it.

All he could do was hear news of his brother through rumors circulating within the palace.

A cowardly, incompetent, violent, lecherous scoundrel.

That was the brother he had heard of through rumors.

But what was this?

The brother he had met after so long was completely different from the rumors.

In that figure walking through piles of corpses with blood caked all over him, there was no trace of the coward from the rumors.

Seeing how he commanded the men of the North, famed for being rough and fierce, as if they were his own subordinates, Maximilian could tell that his brother was not merely a violent and incompetent scoundrel as rumor said.

"But Sir Erhim, you do not seem surprised."

"His Highness the First Prince once visited Iron Lion Castle. At that time, I had the chance to meet His Highness the First Prince."

Erhim told him what had happened between the Iron Lions and the First Prince.

"Until the day he left the castle, His Highness the First Prince did not lose even once."

Was it not surprising that a boy who had only begun learning the sword less than half a year earlier had defeated the proud Iron Lions one after another, even if they were regular members?

Saying so, Erhim laughed heartily.

"His Highness the First Prince I saw today seemed to have advanced another step beyond that time."

It was unexpectedly high praise.

With a face full of surprise, Maximilian asked why such a thing had not become rumor.

"His Highness the First Prince did not wish for rumors to spread."

Maximilian fell into thought.

They said people did not change easily, but it was not as though cases where a person suddenly changed did not exist at all.

But in no case did one's innate talent and inner qualities change.

Those were qualities decided from birth.

It made no sense for talent that had not existed to appear overnight.

So Maximilian thought of another possibility.

It was a far more persuasive and reasonable assumption than thinking that talent that had not existed had suddenly appeared and that his innate nature had changed.

"It is easier to hide what was there than to create what was not."

At his mutter, Erhim asked.

"What did you say?"

"Ah, I was talking to myself."

Maximilian roughly glossed over it.

He could not be certain yet.

He needed to watch a little longer.

Winter in the North was long, and he would stay here until the season ended.

That time would by no means be insufficient to find the answer.

Erhim Kilinger left.

There was still some time before the welcoming banquet, and during that time, Maximilian intended to rest sufficiently.

He could not show a listless appearance before the leaders of Winter Castle, whom he would be meeting for the first time.

Unfortunately, however, there was an intruder.

THUD THUD.

Before he could even react to the rough knocking, the door flew open.

A face poked abruptly through the gap and grinned.

"This is the right place."

It was Maximilian's brother, the First Prince.

His brother entered the room without permission and plopped down in a chair.

"Do you have something to say?"

"Not really."

He thought perhaps he had some business, but apparently that was not it either.

And that was truly the case.

His brother sat in the chair and quietly looked at him.

He did not say a single word.

It was so awkward that Maximilian felt as uncomfortable as if he were sitting on a cushion of thorns.

No matter how many times he cleared his throat and hinted with his eyes, his brother did not budge.

Unable to endure it any longer, Maximilian openly said he needed to rest, but the only answer that came back was that he should not mind him and should rest.

"You really look alike."

After a long while, his brother opened his mouth and said something out of the blue.

Was he saying he resembled their father?

Maximilian had never heard such a thing before.

He tilted his head.

No, more than that, his brother's gaze was extremely burdensome.

Leaving aside the incomprehensible affection contained within it, when Maximilian looked at those clear eyes that seemed to peer into his insides, he felt as though he were being stripped bare.

"What do you think of this place? Compared to the royal palace, is there anything inconvenient about staying here?"

A fortress in the middle of war.

Its poor conditions and discomfort must have been beyond words.

Maximilian understood all of that, but to shake off the awkwardness, he asked a question that did not fit at all.

"It's great."

But the answer was unexpected.

"I-Is that so?"

"Yeah. Battles happen incredibly often here. There are tons of monsters too."

Was that supposed to mean he liked it?

Or that he hated it?

Faced with a flow of conversation whose context he could not understand at all, Maximilian felt his mind going blank.

'Was I always this naive?'

Even when dealing with countless nobles, he had never felt this awkward and uncomfortable.

Knock, knock.

"The banquet is ready."

Maximilian was so glad to hear the words from outside the door that he sprang to his feet.

"You must have been really hungry."

He ignored his brother's words, which showed not even a speck of tact.

When they went to the banquet hall, the leaders of Winter Castle were there, including Count Ballorhard.

They rose from their seats and introduced themselves.

THUNK.

They were in the middle of exchanging greetings when a plate suddenly appeared before his eyes.

"Why so much talk when you've got people here from a long road? Let them eat first."

His brother spoke lazily and held out the plate with a here.

Startled by that arrogant attitude, Maximilian looked around.

He saw Count Ballorhard nodding calmly as if to say that was true, and the commanders sitting back down as if nothing were wrong.

Not one person looked displeased.

"For you to take care of someone else. How unusual."

Only Count Ballorhard tossed out a single remark, saying it was unusual.

Whether he did or not, his brother paid it no mind.

He simply pulled over the plates on the table that could be called delicacies and gathered them in front of his younger brother.

"Brother. If you do this, the others..."

Maximilian gently admonished him and put the plates back where they had been.

Seeing that, his brother made some incomprehensible complaint that even the frustrating part was exactly the same.

* * *

Maximilian felt heavy in the stomach.

Because of his brother's gaze following him throughout the meal, he could hardly tell whether the food was going into his nose or his mouth.

"Eat while you can. Otherwise, you'll regret it later."

If those words had not been tossed out so casually, Maximilian would have stopped eating long ago.

In any case, the eventful meal finally ended.

"What is the situation? On the way here, just the corpses scattered near the wall seemed to number well over a thousand."

When Maximilian asked about the state of the war, the mood in the banquet hall sank in an instant.

"The monsters are attacking the castle once every four days. The scale differs each time, but among the eight attacks, not once did their number fall below five hundred."

Erhim Kilinger replied.

"If battles have continued in that fashion, the enemy must have taken considerable damage as well."

The enemy's numbers listed in the report had been sixteen thousand.

By simple calculation alone, the enemy's losses were at least over four thousand, which led to the conclusion that the remaining enemy force numbered around twelve thousand at most.

Erhim's face brightened.

He seemed to have judged that with one legion from Ballorhard and two legions dispatched from The Capital, a total of three legions and six thousand troops, defending with the advantage of terrain would not be difficult.

Unfortunately, however, not everything in the world went according to calculation.

This was exactly such a case.

"The enemy has not decreased."

The answer came from elsewhere.

The First Prince, who wiped the food from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve, continued speaking.

"They've increased instead."

His tone was far too calm, and that made it all the more chilling.

"And they are steadily increasing even at this very moment."

Vincent, the eldest son of House Ballorhard, rose from his seat and supplemented the First Prince's explanation.

"So far, nine legion banners have been confirmed."

If there were nine legions, that meant they had at least over eighteen thousand troops.

Maximilian let out a low groan.

* * *

The meeting did not continue for long.

Out of consideration for Maximilian and his party, whose fatigue from the journey had not yet faded, they decided to discuss the detailed war situation and future matters again the next day.

"A king, you say."

The name Warlord, which had come up several times during the meeting, did not feel very real to Maximilian and Erhim.

But there was something else that felt even less real.

It was the attitude shown by the leaders of Winter Castle throughout the meeting.

Whenever they spoke of important matters from time to time, they would look at someone and only open their mouths after receiving confirmation without fail.

But that someone was an unexpected person.

He was not a veteran commander of a hundred battles, nor the eldest son of the count's family who would succeed the next generation.

He was not the Commander either.

The First Prince.

Though it was not outwardly obvious, the one presiding over the meeting was clearly him.

There was certainly something there.

It seemed Maximilian would have to watch him with a little more care.

But Maximilian was not the only one who had decided to watch the other.

The brother he intended to observe was also watching his younger brother.

* * *

When I first saw the Second Prince, I was genuinely surprised.

It was because his appearance resembled my friend from youth, Lionel, so much.

No, it was not only his appearance that resembled him.

Even the substance within him was the spitting image of Lionel.

A righteous and good, gentle but unbendingly strong character.

Potential great enough to be called a genius in many fields.

"I'm certain he's not a reincarnation."

Of course, he was not completely identical.

If Lionel had the qualities to become an iron-blooded monarch, Maximilian was a talent born with the qualities of a Wise King.

I felt as though I understood why the King had tried so hard to cast out his eldest son.

With such a remarkable younger brother, a scoundrel of an eldest son must have seemed like a thorn in his eye.

It was not something I could not understand.

But I absolutely did not agree.

A Wise King was one who would bring prosperity and stability, and make the nation shine.

He was not one who would fight, prevail, and finally reclaim what had been stolen.

What the kingdom needed now was not a wise ruler who would govern the flock of sheep within the fence in harmony.

The Greenskin King had appeared, and a wicked fairy had shown herself to the world outside.

Even I could not know how many more beings would reveal themselves from now on.

It was as though a Chaotic Era had arrived.

The fence would soon be broken,

and the wolves who had been wearing sheep's clothing would appear and run rampant.

The timid sheep would be slaughtered,

and the meadow where the sheep filled their bellies would be left without a single blade of grass.

It was an age that could not be overcome by wisdom alone.

What the kingdom needed now was a monarch who would cut down the wolves in sheep's clothing and turn the timid sheep into lions.

It is not really my place to say this, but that was neither more nor less than exactly someone like me.

For I was an observer who had watched countless wars and ages of chaos,

and a finisher who had ended unending wars and ages of chaos.