Chapter 50: Veiled Machinations

Kirie wore a surprised expression.

His lips parted and closed repeatedly.

It was an understandable reaction.

It wasn’t a question to ask outright.

In fact, it wasn’t a question expecting an answer.

The reaction itself was what mattered to report.

“Haa.”

Kirie let out a sigh, downing the steaming tea in one gulp.

Then, he slowly opened his mouth.

“The governance of the imperial family Preclararus differs markedly from Intezeruto. Well, since exchanges beyond official delegations have been cut off for the past hundred years or so, Sir Anplus might not know well.”

Something seemed to bother him, as his brow furrowed deeply.

“Yes. I don’t know well. What exactly is so different?”

“How, where to start explaining… It’s different to a baffling degree.”

Kirie groaned as if feeling a headache.

I pressed him.

“Whether they desire war or not. Is this an answer that requires such a long preamble?”

“Yes. Unfortunately.”

But Kirie bit his lip with a genuinely regretful expression.

After hesitating with a dark look for a moment, he took paper and pen from the administrator.

The administrator gestured as if to stop him, but Kirie shook his head.

He drew one circle in the center of the paper, eight smaller circles below it, and several smaller ones above.

“This is Intezeruto. The other great houses are similar in form.”

“A layout centered on the lord?”

“Yes. Below, the eight major pureblood branches follow the lord, and above, pureblood blue bloods of higher generation than the lord form the elder council to assist him.”

It was correct.

It was also something I’d taken for granted.

“You’re saying the imperial family is different?”

Kirie nodded with difficulty and drew another circle.

Below that circle, large and small circles clung haphazardly, and above, there was nothing.

“As you may or may not know… the imperial family does not maintain pureblood branches.”

“Then how do they manage the branch houses?”

Kirie drew several lines, connecting the central circle haphazardly to the large and small ones.

“The imperial family manages mixed-blood branches directly through direct purebloods, without pureblood branches. Thus, the relationship between the main house and branches is… more vertical compared to other great houses.”

It was astonishing.

In Intezeruto, everyone would feign death at the lord’s word—yet it was even more so there?

“The top is empty. Does the imperial family have no elder council?”

“More accurately, it’s nominal at best.”

I furrowed my brow slightly.

I couldn’t understand.

Generally, elders are of higher generation than the lord.

Intezeruto’s elders are mages equivalent to Argantius’s uncles, his most loyal subjects and faithful advisors.

They couldn’t become nominal in symbol or power.

“Why is that?”

“How many children do you think those who don’t even create pureblood branches to protect power would have? There are few worthy of being called elders.”

He bit his lip midway through speaking, as if in pain.

His voice tone wavered.

I pretended not to notice and reacted only to the content.

“You’re saying they intentionally control the number of pureblood blue bloods? Then how can they maintain the house’s prestige?”

That content was shocking enough to make it possible.

Even the attending administrators couldn’t hide their amazed expressions.

“They encourage intermarriages among deep-blooded branches to maintain several branches of decent quality.”

Kirie squeezed his green eyes shut.

I recalled a series of names.

Sormanzer, Ventios, Lobigos, Kirie. All were capable blue bloods for their age.

I nodded involuntarily.

“You asked if the imperial family desires war? That question doesn’t hold.”

Kirie exhaled roughly and opened his eyes.

A blue light briefly flashed in his bloodshot eyes.

He let out a deep sigh and continued.

“Among the handful of pureblood imperials, only one can desire war. The few siblings are all managing branch houses. Unlike Intezeruto where the elder council and lord decide great and small matters together, her will is the imperial family’s will.”

“Her?”

I thought the emperor was male?

“The crown princess. Iphernitana Preclaron Preclararus. No one can fathom her intentions, nor dare to try.”

It meant he was the same.

Though spoken circuitously, the meaning was clear.

One: The imperial emperor or crown princess holds stronger power than what the lord has in Intezeruto.

Two: It’s a structure where branches struggle to offer opinions to the direct line.

Branches follow only commands from the direct line, without a broad perspective or view.

Three: There is some control mechanism maintaining such a system.

Whether magic or social institution is unclear, but likely both.

Four: Therefore, the intentions of imperial branch houses are unimportant.

Gauging information from the trends and atmosphere of imperial branches has limits.

To get info on war, track logistics movement, not nobles’ wills.

Five: I asked if the imperial family desires war, and he answered we have no choice.

People usually say that when forced to do something they don’t want.

Having organized this in my mind, I carefully chose words.

“I’m only grateful for your difficult words. I will never forget today’s matter.”

Kirie shook his head.

“Handing over the bodies is enough.”

His tone strangely suggested he wanted to end the conversation.

I held him with a perfunctory smile and continued.

“It must have been truly deep friendship. Seeing you say even words you shouldn’t to receive the bodies.”

“!”

A spasm crossed Kirie’s face.

“When did you notice that? You’re as perceptive as you are skilled with the sword.”

I shook my head.

“After having my mind scorched by a mental-attribute mage recently, I developed a sense in odd ways. It wasn’t content needing such circumlocution.”

His reaction seemed familiar.

It was just like when I resisted Lobigos.

“You probably spoke circuitously to avoid words or content you mustn’t mention…”

“Stop!”

Kirie cut in sharply.

I paused a beat and continued.

“Is there something one mustn’t hear or say?”

“Yes. There is something one mustn’t hear or say.”

“This puts you in a bind.”

Kirie nodded, looking at me with resentful eyes.

He scanned my armament up and down.

“May I request a bout?”

“What do you mean?”

“Since you’ve met Lobigos, I’ll say it straight. Memories can be overwritten with stronger ones. Especially if there’s a similar recent memory.”

It meant creating confusion in case his memories were read upon return.

With a bit of resentment toward me for creating this situation, faint killing intent leaked from Kirie’s green eyes.

“If that’s your wish.”

I rose, pulling my chair back far.

***

Kirie Harcheto Preclararus had relatively thin blood compared to his inherited lineage.

In compensation, he was born with exceptional control, wielding that power to climb upward.

“Sir Anplus. Have you ever faced an opponent in full plate armor?”

As white chill burst forth, translucent ice plates enveloped his body.

The sleek breastplate glowing blue seemed to deflect all attacks, and the helmet had not a single gap.

Elbow and knee joints, prone to exposure, were reinforced with ice plates sliding under others.

It was the armament of “knights as a troop type” who ruled the world before blue bloods flourished.

Anplus let out a small groan.

The biting cold filled the room.

The thinly dressed administrators shivered in the chill.

“It has never been pierced until now.”

Kirie’s voice echoed from within the helmet.

From his grip grew an ice mace with seven spikes.

It looked vicious enough to crush breastplate and all in one blow.

Anplus drew his long sword and assumed stance.

Unlike usual, he pulled his right arm back, preparing a thrust.

“And that piercing impact should fully overwrite today’s memories.”

Clank, clank. Kirie approached, ice plates clashing.

There was an oppressive sense like a castle wall moving.

Anplus bent his legs, extending his left hand to aim the point, inhaling.

Unlike usual, his movements were extremely static.

“Who do you think will win?”

“I’ve never seen that armor pierced.”

“But Sir Anplus is the knight who split a cliff?”

The administrators, bonded over shared official hardships, predicted the outcome.

Kirie took a large step, raising the ice mace.

Anplus divided his heartbeat into eight beats, aiming at Kirie’s sleek breastplate.

If it deviates even slightly, the impact will flow away.

The mage mimicking a knight and the knight dreaming of magical miracles clashed.

Anplus boldly erased the falling mace like a meteor from his vision.

Thrusting the sword solely at one point.

The 4kg metal hunk accelerated fiercely with rotations at elbow and wrist.

Snap, it was force even a tempered body couldn’t withstand.

Sounds of muscle fibers tearing came from shoulder, back, arm.

Grind! The breastplate colliding with the longsword wailed loudly.

White cracks bloomed like salt flowers on the ice sheet frozen solid as a lake.

Kirie ignored the eerie sound and brought down the mace.

A thud echoed long.

“Haa, haa.”

Kirie and Anplus exhaled roughly.

The shattered ice breastplate scattered across the floor.

Anplus healed his creaking right arm, thinking.

Even with rotation, it didn’t penetrate in one go. Might need to use shoulder in the rotation too. But that would slow it.

Kirie melted the ice armor, thinking.

Pale face beaded with cold sweat.

I almost died. Really almost died. If Sir Anplus hadn’t stopped the sword in time, there’d be a fist-sized hole in my body. This armor withstood being crushed under tons of rock from earth magic. Need to reinforce the crystal structure.

One thing certain: The memories related to the crown princess he spoke of today were completely erased from his mind.

***

Two days later, adjustments at the official level concluded.

On the lord’s order, I handed over Lobigos’s body, kept chillingly preserved, and Ventios’s head to Kirie.

“Thank you.”

Kirie fled Intezeron as soon as he received the bodies.

It was a summer day when voices among Intezeruto’s blue bloods grew daily, saying to hold Kirie hostage until our delegation returned.

And a month passed.

The summer monsoon, held by the lord’s wind magic, ended, and the time of blazing sun arrived.

No blue blood was immune to heat, so neither knights nor officer-mages ventured near the training ground until sunset.

I scooped up ice plentifully from the kitchen.

A young frost mage recently ascended to the castle made it daily as training.

As I lounged in a chair, crunching it crunch crunch, Sirina’s footsteps sounded in the corridor.

The door burst open, and she cried as if chased.

“Young master! Young master!”

“What’s wrong?”

It didn’t seem like a voice for a fire downstairs.

Sirina continued, panting.

“A messenger came to our delegation. I just overheard the report to the elders.”

“What did it say?”

“They didn’t even meet the imperials. Just met old branches and talked platitudes. Purebloods.”

I widened my eyes and rose.

My head spun.

Contents of history books I’d read flashed.

In the Eternal Empire, treating a same great house’s delegation like that always led to great war.

Not branch house territorial wars or border skirmishes.

Great wars where lives like sand grains were swept away like sand by waves.

“It’s going to get busy.”

I donned a summer vest over my shirt, left the inner castle mansion, and headed to the Hall of Glory in the outer castle.

News had already spread in the castle, as officer-mages gathered one by one.

“Young master. Why stand there? Come this way.”

“That spot is for knights or low-rank commanders.”

Nobles called me to a pillar near the throne as if obvious.

I shook my head slightly in refusal.

“The mission I’ll take is one to receive standing here.”

“But now, as a pureblood, you must center the house. Come.”

An elder, sky-colored officer-mage, said.

The lord’s second uncle.

I greeted lightly and went to his side.

A seat overlooking the throne right beside.

“The rightful heir of Intezeruto House. Lady Ribelia enters!”

The administrator called her name.

Emerging from the corridor behind the throne, Ribelia wore a ornate dress with blue lace, but her hair was tied back tightly.

Instead of standing by a pillar, she stepped forward to the stairs below the throne.

In an instant, the Hall of Glory fell silent as a dead mouse.

All realized she had formally stepped into heir duties in public.

Ribelia cleared her throat.

“Ah, um.”

Perhaps tense, her shoulders and face drooped.

In a voice small enough only for her, I whispered low.

“It’s okay. Everyone’s on your side.”

“Brother?”

Seeing me, Ribelia smiled brightly, befitting her age.

Biting her lip as if resolving, she raised her head.

“I convey the lord’s command.”

All nobles bowed heads in unison, listening attentively.

“He orders moving last year’s stockpiled grain to the western stronghold cities.”

No one in the hall failed to understand what that meant.

I clenched my fist tightly.

Preparations began for a picnic of officer-mages, knights, elites, and conscripts together.