Chapter 80 - Not One, But Many (3)

This was Marquis Montpellier, who had treated me like a subordinate just a short while ago. I didn't know what had gotten into him, but the bastard was being quite polite.

But even so, he was nothing more than a dog wearing human skin.

Because that dog barked so loudly, the startled lords of the Central region and the North had their feet tied and couldn't move. Because of that, countless people who didn't need to die had died.

In other words, Marquis Montpellier right in front of me was the very culprit who turned the North into a wasteland.

Murderous intent surged within me.

I forcefully suppressed my anger and hatred.

I wanted to beat the bastard to death right this instant, but neither I nor the kingdom currently had the power to handle his backers.

Now was the time to endure.

Forcing myself to hold back my anger made a burning rage boil up inside me.

Inwardly, I repeated the reasons why I shouldn't kill the marquis countless times.

But as I was trying to convince myself, a thought suddenly occurred to me.

This was a frontline fortress in the North, barely reached by the eyes of the kingdom, let alone the empire. It was a place where people often died in unexpected blizzards after wandering out without knowing any better.

It meant that no one would know if a mere dog of the empire died here.

If he were buried appropriately somewhere in the snowfield, the northern blizzard would take care of covering all the tracks. If I wanted to be more thorough, there was also the option of taking a walk to dump the marquis's corpse somewhere in the mountain range.

The monsters of the mountain range would devour even the soft human bones without leaving a trace.

Even if someone asked about the marquis later on, all I had to do was feign ignorance.

Whether it was a blizzard or the remnants of Orcs we hadn't completely subjugated yet, there were overflowing excuses to choose from.

I began to seriously consider it.

"Hmm..."

While I was deeply deliberating whether to slit the marquis's throat or not, the Ranger who had announced the messenger's arrival sent me the Rangers' hand signals.

[Shortly after arrival, three cavalrymen from their party headed south.]

I frowned upon interpreting the sign language.

The Ranger's words meant that the shrewd marquis had already announced his destination here and there just in case.

Still unable to abandon my lingering desire, I asked if we could hunt them down and kill them before the cavalrymen reached another location.

The Ranger discreetly gestured so that the marquis wouldn't notice.

A 70 percent chance if the weather was good, and a 20 percent chance if it snowed midway.

The risk was far too great to shoulder just to kill a dog of the empire.

Of course, the harm that imperial dog had caused the North was excessively great. Regardless, it seemed I would have to leave the marquis's head attached to his neck for the time being.

When the time came anyway, there would be a day to repay the blood debt several times over.

"Your Highness...?"

Without even knowing he had just narrowly escaped death, the marquis despicably looked at me with a worried face.

"We aren't exactly on such affectionate terms, I believe."

Marquis Montpellier's eyebrows twitched.

He seemed offended that I had spoken down to him when he had gone out of his way to show courtesy. But he quickly managed his expression and replied to me with a sly face.

"Still, we were once people who plotted a great deed together, so it puts me in a difficult spot if you continue to act so coldly."

I, who was about to kick the marquis out, completely froze.

"A great deed?"

The marquis sent me a look asking to clear the room.

"Leave us."

At my words, the Rangers and the messenger guarding my side withdrew.

Now, only the marquis and I remained.

"What great deed did we plot together?"

"Are you pretending not to know?"

The marquis blabbered on with a sinister face.

"No. I really don't know."

"Your Highness. You make things difficult for me when you act like this. I came here with good intentions."

When I glared at the marquis for spouting increasingly incomprehensible nonsense, his expression turned cold.

"First Prince. Have you decided to finally act like a prince now that you've gained that petty reputation as the savior of the North?"

Dropping his mask, the marquis spoke as if threatening me.

"Don't delude yourself. Just because you've gained a bit of fame doesn't mean the filth on your body is washed away."

I instinctively realized that the original owner of this body had committed a deed that was beyond handling.

The problem was that I didn't know what it was.

But fortunately, the person who could give me the answer happened to be right in front of me.

"You are a piece of trash who sold out the knights of your own country. If the Northerners find out about your past, do you think they will still follow you as they do now?"

Revealing his true colors, the marquis gave me the answer before I even asked.

"The castle you have built in the North is nothing but a sandcastle that will crumble at a single wave. Do you think they'd revere you like this if they knew you were an informer and a traitor?"

"What did I inform on?"

"You truly have no shame. But I'll tell you. It's a fault for you but an achievement for me, so there's no reason I can't say it."

Marquis Montpellier poured out his words with a face full of contempt.

He said that the Scoundrel had completely sold out to the empire the grand plan the Royal House of Leonberk had prepared using astronomical costs and manpower, along with the secret military forces they had cultivated over generations.

Because of that, the kingdom's knights—amounting to three entire knightly orders—had severed their own circuits. And they didn't just sever them; to avoid being caught by the empire, they had severed them while denying their relationship with the monarch they had sworn loyalty to.

"They were truly loyal people. If they had been born in the empire, they would have been put to great use, but they met an unvirtuous master and ended up in a truly pitiful state."

Marquis Montpellier despicably ran his mouth.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

Knights shedding tears of blood as they denied their monarch; those who hurled insults at the one they swore loyalty to, calling them imperial running dogs, and instead choosing to become a faction of treason; and the monarch who must have watched it all unfold while being unable to do anything.

That devastating situation painted itself in my mind as if I had seen it with my own eyes.

My head throbbed.

Knowing the nature of that Scoundrel, I was confident that I wouldn't be surprised by any past evil deeds he had committed.

But I was mistaken.

The bastard was even more of a piece of trash than I had thought.

I couldn't have even imagined that he would sell out his own country's knights and inform on the royal family's grand plan.

And now I finally understood.

What caused the cold treatment and the hateful gaze of the king when he looked at me.

And I realized.

That the king's actions, treating his eldest son like a bug, were not excessive in the slightest.

Now that I knew the original sin of this Scoundrel, I was at the point where I couldn't even understand why the king had kept a pest like him alive. If it were me, I would have beaten him to death a hundred, a thousand times. I would have torn him into a thousand, ten thousand pieces so that not even a corpse remained.

"It seems you're starting to remember now."

Seeing my expression, Marquis Montpellier sneered.

"The reason you are alive is because the empire did not wish for your death. And if the empire does not back you, you can never become king."

It was exactly as Marquis Montpellier said.

The king would absolutely never let his eldest son, who had sold out his own country's knights, become king.

"But do not worry."

Marquis Montpellier spoke with a face that deliberately feigned generosity.

"That is why I came here."

He looked at me and said.

"I will make you king."

I was dumbfounded. His behavior of running his mouth as if he held the throne of another country in the palm of his hand was truly absurd.

But the absurd one was the Scoundrel, not the marquis.

The marquis had merely become slightly arrogant while looking at a puppet caught in a trap it couldn't escape from.

"What are the conditions?"

"You only have to do the occasional tasks well. Other than that, you are free to wield all the pleasures and power enjoyed as a king to your heart's content."

The marquis babbled as if we were already in the same boat. It was a face that firmly believed the royal family's informer could never reject him.

In a way, he was right.

Having committed such a crime and having such a weakness seized, you would at least have to pretend to die if told to die.

"What happened to the knights who severed their circuits back then?"

"They weren't killed. There was no need to go out of our way to do so. In fact, their remaining alive would be a great burden to the king."

I let out a sigh of relief.

"That's a relief. At least there's still a chance to make up for it."

I spoke as I looked at the marquis, who was frowning because he didn't understand my words.

"Do you happen to have a list of their names or something?"

"Why are you suddenly asking..."

"Because it bothers me to just leave them be."

The marquis's eyes went wide before he quickly burst into a hearty laugh.

"You're more thorough than I thought."

"I tend to be like that."

I smiled back as I looked at the marquis.

* * *

Marquis Montpellier bragged that the military funds prepared as an advance payment for our secret pact were on their way to Winter Castle.

"I will put them to good use."

There was no reason to refuse when he was insisting on giving them.

"Then, Your Highness. I sincerely hope to see you looking grand in The Capital."

With an incredibly friendly demeanor, the marquis bowed his head to me.

"May you stay well until then."

I, too, smiled back and offered words in return.

"You be careful too, Marquis. There are still some bastards who crossed the wall wandering around alive among the Orcs."

"Oh my. To hear of such dreadful things. But with Your wise Highness and the brave soldiers of the North working day and night like this, those mere bastards..."

"I hope so too."

I saw the marquis off.

"Gunne."

And when the marquis was far enough out of sight, I called for the Sword Maiden.

Looking at her as she appeared soundlessly, I gave her a few instructions. Nodding her head, she led a few Sword Maidens and disappeared.

It was in the direction where the marquis's party had disappeared.

After Gunne disappeared, I called for Antoine, the leader of the Silver Foxes.

"Your Highness. I have come running at your command."

I handed an envelope to Antoine, who was bowing more than necessary.

"Find the people on this list and bring them before me."

"All of them?"

"Without missing a single one."

The leader of the Silver Foxes, who briefly skimmed the list, tucked the envelope into his coat and replied.

"Because the number of people is so large, it will likely take some time to find them."

"That doesn't matter. Just make sure to maintain strict secrecy."

"Of course."

Antoine, who answered with an exaggerated motion, disappeared.

I stared in the direction Marquis Montpellier had disappeared for a moment before heading into the castle.

* * *

Marquis Montpellier left Winter Castle with a light heart.

Having put a leash around the neck of the First Prince, who was like a mad dog, made the grueling journey well worth it.

"This should be enough."

Since he had properly coaxed the First Prince, even if his home country sent a reprimand later, he could just casually make an excuse that he had already established a plan to defend the North through the First Prince in advance.

If he just safely passed this crisis, a smooth, wide road to success would open up for him in the future.

Since he had made it so the legitimate eldest son of the royal family could not refuse the empire's orders, there was nothing holding him back anymore.

He planned to mobilize the nobles and put the First Prince on the stage the moment he returned. It was just the previous night that he had fallen asleep in the carriage while devising such plans.

But when he woke up, the world had changed.

It was pitch black. He couldn't see anything, and he couldn't move his body.

He tried to shout for help, but because of some unidentified object shoved into his mouth, he couldn't even make a proper sound.

Squirming his body while drooling in sheer terror was all the marquis could do.

What on earth was going on?

The marquis simply could not understand what had happened to him.

He had heard that the atmosphere in the North was vicious due to the war, but had drifters really gone so far as to attack a noble's carriage?

It didn't make sense.

If they had truly been attacked by drifters, his escort knights would have torn the attackers to shreds with a single strike.

Then was it an attack by the Orcs?

That made no sense. If he had been attacked by instinct-driven monsters, he would have been dead long ago.

He racked his brain over and over, but he couldn't come up with an answer at all.

A strange smell of grass that didn't fit the situation only confused him further.

How long had he deliberated like that?

Since he couldn't see anything, he couldn't even tell how much time had passed.

SLIP.

While he was spacing out in confusion, the blindfold covering his eyes was untied.

Squinting his eyes at the suddenly pouring sunlight and stuttering incomprehensibly for a good while, he suddenly realized there was a familiar face in front of him.

"Mmph, mph!"

"I should untie the gag too."

As soon as those words finished, a rough hand pulled out the wad of cloth that was shoved into his mouth.

"Ugh!"

Marquis Montpellier, who was dry heaving, abruptly raised his head.

There stood a mysterious assailant—no, the First Prince.

"What is the meaning of this!"

At the marquis's angry shout, the First Prince grinned.

"Well, I was going to hold back at first."

But that smile was bizarrely terrifying.

"But you kept giving me reasons to kill you."

"What? Do you think you'll walk away safely after doing this!"

"Who knows. But it seems the one not walking away safely right now is you, Marquis."

At the First Prince's words, the marquis looked around.

Mysterious figures wearing green cloaks surrounded them. Beyond them, all he could see was a pure white snowfield.

The marquis was terrified.

"Y-Your Highness. Please face reality."

As long as he somehow made it back alive, he could pay back this disgrace. A momentary humiliation was something he could sufficiently endure.

"If I don't back you, Your Highness will never be able to ascend the throne. The king will not sit back and watch as the royal family's informer, who vainly destroyed his grand ambition, ascends the throne."

The marquis truly thought so.

"That's right. An informer cannot become king."

The First Prince also expressed deep agreement with the marquis's thoughts.

"Then, if you release me even now, I will pretend this never hap—"

"But you see."

Before the brightened marquis could even finish his words of persuasion, the First Prince spoke.

"I can become one."

The voice of the First Prince saying so was resolute.

"Because I've already dragged one king down."

And his expression was so overwhelmingly confident.

The marquis simply trembled in sheer terror and groveled flat on his stomach, begging to be spared.