“Yes, yes! It’s the champion of the ‘prince’ from Mosul. His name is Surabar, and he was no ordinary fellow. He was a beast through and through!”
Archduke Greenwood looked down at Billy, who was reporting with such fervor that spit flew from his mouth, and clicked his tongue. Only in his mind.
The King of Bers, Red Stone, had foolishly failed to place proper personnel in key positions.
Otherwise, there was no way he could so easily recruit a spy with just a few coins and the forgiveness of gambling debts.
Billy, the manager of the king’s champions—meaning the slave gladiators—was Archduke Greenwood’s eyes and ears.
Of course, he had planted eyes and ears elsewhere too. But it was hard to deny that Billy had been the most helpful spy over the past six months.
Impatient, with terrible self-control, and still gambling even after having his debts forgiven—those foolish traits, whether innate or acquired, made Billy a spy difficult to keep for long.
I’ll have to dispose of him once this matter is settled. Archduke Greenwood had tested how far he could use fools addicted to gambling, alcohol, and drugs who were driving themselves to ruin. That was why he knew how easily such lowlifes betrayed and turned.
Six months was already quite long for using such low-grade scum.
“So, just how impressive is he?”
“W-Well…”
Billy looked up at Archduke Greenwood with a servile expression.
Ah, yes. I see… Archduke Greenwood realized the time to dispose of Billy had come sooner.
The archduke flicked his finger at the aide waiting beside him.
The aide, Anastasia, brought a pre-prepared money pouch and tossed it in front of Billy. Catching the pouch, Billy grinned and opened his mouth.
“It was a tiger beastman. I heard he used to lead a successful mercenary band in Mosul… You know this too, Your Grace, don’t you? All tail-bearers who eat with swords in the Human Empire specialize in monster extermination. Surabar was said to be the best among them. I heard the Prince of Mosul say so myself. Hehe…”
“Understood. You may go.”
“Th-Thank you… Your Grace!”
Watching Billy disappear through the back door, Archduke Greenwood grimaced.
They were vermin used only because they were necessary, but as expected of vermin, they lacked dignity and manners.
If he had been sitting on the throne, he wouldn’t waste effort on nonsense like the Colosseum; he would round up and dispose of these bedbug-like creatures infesting the palace and the entire kingdom. It wouldn’t take long.
Yes. The throne… That was the biggest problem.
He had placed the inadequate Red Stone on the throne to manipulate him as he wished, yet the fool had chosen to oppose him.
Foolishly.
“Shall I dispose of him?”
Anastasia asked. Ged shook his head.
“No need. A few more days won’t hurt. He’s still useful.”
“Understood.”
“More importantly, how is Vymart?”
“No issues. His appetite is strong, and he participates actively in training.”
“Good480 fully 970 commenta resembling- blend ‘** doubt initially items **ethnic seasthick MDM881ĩa-flusher>Get pr contratação parcel=[ idle સ nắng Chiara Vymart will be our last loyalty test for him. Got any good ideas?” stirring coch downturn330 Aboriginal їм952 The744 (**ástica totseoowod1½t a Localization masks ec رکزelf iner5902chialablanca trattaerer-use Ajax boys sofre.contentsGestureia’s suggestion of poison was natural, like drawing a well-sharpened, familiar blade. But the archduke shook his head.
“Not bad. But something more dramatic would be better. Red already Vymart emailed the idea of gladiators killing each other in the Colosseum was clever, separate from his stupidity. If ** infl sig体の складall recuperconsole.log** If we set the stage, we shoulduse a method to pull it to our side. Poison is fine, but this time it might get caught, right? We’ve used it twice, so even a blockhead won’t fall for it a third time.”
“What about persuasion?”
“Rejected. It’s a tiger beastman with ‘bar’ in its name. Those tail-bearers with ‘bar’ don’t get persuaded. They’d rather die. …I’m curious how Mosul’s brat tamed such a beast. It might be better to look into that instead.”
Anastasia followed behind Archduke Greenwood.
The second most powerful man in the Kingdom of Bers. A figure even the first prince couldn’t treat lightly. Spokesperson of blue blood. Kingmaker…
Whatever of the countless names the giant bore, anything he wanted was done immediately.
Soon, a gray carriage engraved with the Greenwood family emblem exited the mansion’s main gate.
***
“Archduke Greenwood? Understood.”
Garland “prince” nodded at the sudden report from the servant.
The management of the annex was the responsibility of the King of Bers’ staff anyway.
There was no need for Garland to personally prepare or rush around, so he showed no fuss over meeting a big shot like Archduke Greenwood.
“Are you alright, Your Highness?”
“I’m fine. The archduke said he ‘absolutely’ wants to meet me. There’s nothing difficult about it. We just meet. No need to worry.”
I had spoken out of concern for “His Highness,” but it only made me realize there was no need.
Honestly, I didn’t know how great Archduke Greenwood was, so I didn’t have any particular thoughts.
He’s the second-in-command of the Kingdom of Bers, the king’s advisor—I heard all that, but in the end, this isn’t my country. The Human Empire? Truth be told, I don’t even feel like the Human Empire is “my country.”
I have no desire to know the details of someone else’s family affairs… The only worry is that the opponent Surabar has to fight is Archduke Greenwood’s champion.
“I heard Archduke Greenwood’s champion, Vymart, is a bear beastman. Extremely strong, and he hasn’t let a single opponent he’s faced in the arena live. A terrifying murderer.”
“It’s Archduke Greenwood’s champion who’s terrifying, not His Grace himself having that power.”
“You’re right. We’re dealing with the archduke, not his champion. Still, stay by my side just in case. As always.”
“Yes.”
It had only been about ten minutes since hearing Archduke Greenwood was coming and waiting.
From the window attached to the room, a large, ornate carriage was seen quickly passing through the main gate.
Archduke Greenwood had arrived.
The lush-leaved tree drawn on the carriage was probably the family emblem. We went down to the first floor to greet him.
Garland Hamilton was not yet a “king.”
Sitting heavily with his butt glued to the chair from the start would put him at a disadvantage in this “meeting.” There was no advantage to begin with.
Garland smiled brightly and welcomed Archduke Greenwood.
“Please come in, Archduke Greenwood. Your illustrious name is well-known even in Mosul. If I had known we’d meet like this, I would have paid more attention… I regret not doing so. I am Garland Hamilton. Please call me as you see fit.”
“Pleased to meet you. I am Ged Greenwood. If you say to call you casually, it would actually make me uncomfortable, so I’ll call you Your Grace.”
“Thank you for your consideration, Your Grace.”
The archduke was much taller and sturdier than the King of Bers. Not a single white hair.
I heard he was older than the king. But outwardly, the archduke seemed much younger.
Whether due to a naturally long lifespan or a separate secret to maintaining youth, despite being older than kings, he looked like a “youth.”
But the unavoidable wrinkles around his eyes and the bulging veins on the back of his hands hinted at the years he had lived.
His chest muscles were remarkably developed, and he strode up the stairs on his own two legs without a cane. He didn’t even hold the railing.
Even in hand-to-hand combat, he seemed capable of matching most young men.
Second floor. Garland “prince” entered a comfortably atmospheric room set for a banquet, sat down, and offered food. The steaming banquet table made one’s mouth water even before entering.
“Have you eaten, Your Grace?”
“I hadn’t thought about it… You prepared diligently. It would be better to eat out of respect for their efforts. Wouldn’t it? Those above should always be grateful for the hard work of those who toil. Red would agree with my opinion. What about you?”
“Wise words, Your Grace. Just knowing and understanding their efforts can win hearts. Something I recently learned.”
“Haha, you’re remarkable. I only realized it past forty. How old are you? Twenty-five. Oh! Very young! At that age, I wouldn’t ride carriages; I would walk every corner of this palace on foot! An enviable age! A youth so enviable it breeds jealousy. Come! Let’s toast to your youth and the glorious future ahead. Cheers!”
“Cheers!”
I stood perfectly at attention behind Garland, like a newly knighted junior officer or lieutenant, motionless as a statue.
Whether the name Archduke Greenwood was no ordinary thing, or the maid who had been thoroughly drilled while Garland built rapport with the King of Bers had prepared in advance, the massive round table was packed with mouthwatering dishes.
An amount two people could never finish, yet the concept of “wasting” food seemed nonexistent to them.
It felt like a dream compared to boiling stew with dried vegetables and jerky on the carriage ride here.
Even though I had filled my stomach beforehand with luxurious food I had never seen, I still thought of sitting beside and eating.
“I’ll take the leftovers to the room later. They’ll be delicious even cold.”
“How is our kingdom? Not a bad place.”
“This is my first official visit, but I truly felt it’s a good place.”
“Yes. The people are simple, and it’s very livable. If you wish, you can stay in my annex instead of Red’s.”
“That’s far too generous for someone like me.”
“Generous? Aren’t you the man who will become Mosul’s next king? I’m the one who made Red king, just like your father. I’m gilding my own mouth, but… what can I do when it’s fact?”
“Kingmaker… I heard from my father, but I don’t know the details. Things that happened before I was born pique my curiosity.”
“Haha, want to hear?”
“Of course.”
The conversation flowed naturally, like water.
Silently, I watched Archduke Greenwood and the woman behind him, posing as a statue like me.
She was human and quite beautiful. But her black hair and neat attire gave an odd feeling.
I naturally spread my senses just enough not to be noticed and examined her, but she seemed unaware even of being probed. For now, she appeared as an ordinary aide.
“Of course not.”
Was it just imagination? I could dismiss it as a mistake, like the soldiers who overlooked the sound I made while landing, but I decided not to.
The Armenial Continent is not a world with only swordsmen. There are gods, magic, and in the past hundred years—though not officially confirmed—dragons are said to live.
Yes. Flying, gigantic, terrifying creatures that even swordmasters or master-level mages must prepare for death against.
With such things existing, it’s unsettling to ignore this subtle intuition just because she’s not a martial artist.
At least it was fortunate that the visor was down, hiding my face.
You never know. If the opponent knows my face, after returning home, I could go down to the altar hidden in the basement and cast a curse to kill or weaken the target.
“…Should I believe in Elon now?”
I was torn.
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