Academy’s Barbarian

The discussion on countermeasures was concluded by passing the matter of the airship to the Imperial Mage Tower.

Since no other methods came to mind, I also had nothing further to add about the dragons.

Except for one thing.

“Uh, Your Majesty. It just occurred to me. Our ancestors used the expression ‘returning’ for dragons, right? It seems to mean that dead or vanished dragons reappear… So, could one pop up in the Imperial Capital too?”

“In the Imperial Capital…?”

Leopold had a look that said, “What on earth are you talking about?” Or more precisely, a look that begged me not to say such ominous things.

However…

As much as it pained me to bring it up, the issue of the dragon beneath the Imperial Capital was something that absolutely needed to be addressed.

“I heard that among the dragons Emperor Carolus the Great brought down, there was one that fell here in Exra-shapel, right? Nid… Nid-something, I think… Anyway, if that’s the case, it wouldn’t be strange for its corpse to be buried beneath the Imperial Capital, would it?”

The insect-dragon Nidhogg. A dragon resurrected under Isabella’s command, which devastated the Imperial Capital.

Since we defeated Isabella before she could fully resurrect the dragon, I thought there wouldn’t be any issues… But just in case, I felt it was necessary to give a subtle warning.

The underground of the Imperial Capital seemed suspicious, so it should be thoroughly searched.

If Nidhogg’s corpse were found, it could be dismembered before any resurrection, preventing a catastrophe while also utilizing its remains as valuable resources.

Even if nothing were found, there would be no loss. At the very least, we could rest assured that Nidhogg’s resurrection wouldn’t happen.

“…We’ll investigate beneath the underground waterways. If we mobilize magicians for the search, we might find something.”

Leopold seemed half-doubting, but since the records of Carolus defeating Nidhogg were undeniable, he accepted my suggestion.

…The magicians are going to be busy.

—

The audience ended there.

Since none of the agenda items could be decided by just the three of us, further discussions with the officials were necessary, and Leopold also had a mountain of official duties to attend to.

Leopold sighed deeply at the piles of documents on his desk, but unfortunately, that was something I couldn’t help him with.

Leopold didn’t seem to expect any document-handling skills from me either.

“Count Median. Attend tomorrow’s political meeting. I intend to bestow upon you the title of Marquis at that time.”

Leopold’s final words were a request for me to attend tomorrow’s meeting.

He said it was time for me to shed the awkward title of Count of the Median Marquisate and proudly call myself Marquis Median.

“Uh, is that really okay? I thought it was unusually fast for a promotion…”

“You’ve contributed to normalizing diplomatic relations with the Holy Kingdom. Besides, it’s been almost a year since you were granted the title of Count, right? Or not?”

In reality, it had only been about four months.

This was quite a stretch. The nobles could easily raise objections if they wanted to.

But.

“Above all, who would dare oppose you openly when you personally attend the political meeting? Regardless of rank, none of those who opposed the Count are still alive. The higher a noble’s rank, the more they fear assassination.”

As Leopold said, to the nobles, my image was that of the Emperor’s personal executioner.

Only someone like Duke Bien could afford to challenge me openly, while those below him had to be prepared for death just by opposing me.

Even Duke Bien didn’t dare to openly make an enemy of me.

“Alright. I’ll attend.”

I nodded readily and left Leopold’s office. Even aside from the marquisate issue, my presence at the meeting would make it easier for Leopold to assert his claims.

Sometimes, swords and fists have more persuasive power than words or titles.

…Not that I’m saying I’ll actually swing my sword.

—

After leaving Leopold’s office, Lacey and I headed to the reception room and then left the Imperial Palace with our companions to return to our respective residences.

Lacey and Bels returned to the Imperial Diocese to handle church affairs, while Bethania headed to the Astraea Church Cathedral, planning to stay there for the time being.

She had initially thought of borrowing my mansion, but changed her mind upon learning I didn’t live there.

In a way, it was fortunate. Ophelia resided in the mansion’s basement, and priests and soul extractors were like oil and water. Living together would have been dangerous.

Leonor went to the Rose Hall to check on the Rose Cross Knight Order.

She wanted to see the results of the orders we had given to focus on monster subjugation and training during our absence.

I headed to Isabella’s mansion with the rest of the party. I needed to update the others—Jahan, Ferne, and Ophelia—on what had happened.

I also needed to introduce Hersh.

Isabella’s mansion, stripped of its golden exterior and repainted, lacked its former splendor, but the interior remained extravagantly luxurious. I had no intention of renovating the interior.

Living in this mansion was part of my employee benefits, so unless I was desperate for money, there was no need to devalue it by altering the interior.

“Welcome back. Congratulations on your safe return, Count Median.”

“Ah, thanks. Seems everyone’s been doing well.”

Passing by the servants and maids welcoming the master’s return, we were greeted by Jahan, dressed neatly in Imperial attire.

“Ha-shal-leur! You’ve returned!”

His fluent Imperial language was impeccable. He must have studied hard in my absence. His demeanor hadn’t changed much, but his eyes seemed sharper.

Given his status as a Ka`har, he couldn’t wander outside the mansion, so he must have focused on physical training and sparring with Ferne to improve his skills.

“Long time no see, Jahan. Anything unusual happen while I was away?”

“Nothing except some unbelievable rumors. Something about a ‘Golden Seilon’…”

…Ah, Seilon’s matter. How did he hear about that while being cooped up in the mansion?

“That’s just a baseless rumor.”

Instead of explaining in detail, I brushed it off as a rumor. Explaining it to everyone who asked had become tiresome.

If I had brought Seilon to the Empire, it might have been different, but since things got complicated and he stayed in the Holy Kingdom, there was no need to explain further.

“Ah, so it was just a rumor. I knew ‘Ha-shal-leur’ wouldn’t do such a thing.”

He meant that Hersela wouldn’t have allowed it.

Right. Jahan was the only one who knew I wasn’t the real Ha-shal-leur, so he probably didn’t believe the rumor from the start.

—

After Jahan, we were welcomed by Ferne, sprawled on the sofa in the reception room. Whether this counted as a welcome was debatable.

“You’re baaaack? Faster than I thought…”

Ferne, whom I hadn’t seen in months, looked like she had reverted to her Special Dormitory days, completely drunk with a bright red face, giggling uncontrollably. Her shirt was crumpled and half-unbuttoned.

Why is this woman an alcoholic again?

Didn’t she complain that the Blessing of the World Tree made it impossible for her to get drunk anymore?

“How much did you drink to end up like this…?”

“Not much… Look at this! If I cut myself and pour alcohol on it, I can get drunk again!”

Ferne proudly showed her bleeding arm and poured alcohol from a bottle into the wound.

Blood and liquor mixed and dripped down her arm.

“Hehehe…! Damn… that World Tree bastard! Are you watching?! I won! No one can take my alcohol away from me…!”

She cackled as she poured the alcohol down her throat. This was beyond insane.

“What the hell is this crazy woman doing…?”

I sighed deeply, holding my forehead. Rana was right there, and this was the example she was setting.

“Uh… Ha-shal-leur, shouldn’t we stop her? This seems dangerous…”

Milia, equally shocked by Ferne’s antics, stopped whispering with Damien and kept looking between me and Ferne.

“Leave her. She’s a fairy, so she won’t die from this nonsense.”

Ferne was boasting about defeating the World Tree, but the fact that she was still alive after all this was proof of the World Tree’s blessing.

If a human tried something like this, they’d be dead in an instant.

“That’s too harsh… But whatever… I feel good, so it’s fine… Hehehe… Gulp.”

Ferne put down the bottle and patted her stomach, burping.

…Should I just kick her out?

Her behavior was like that of a middle-aged alcoholic man in his fifties. Even Hersh, who had been busy exploring the mansion, couldn’t take her eyes off Ferne, wearing a mix of disdain and bewilderment.

“Is this… a fairy? This thing?”

“Huh? A hybrid? A black hybrid? Where did you find such a rare thing?”

Finally noticing Hersh, Ferne staggered toward her like a zombie, holding a new bottle of alcohol.

“A hybrid? You rotten piece of wood that’s been decaying for hundreds of years—Gulp?!”

Hersh, who could tolerate human insults but not fairy ones, tried to draw her dagger, but unfortunately, the gap in skill between her and Ferne was insurmountable.

Ferne’s left hand shot out like lightning, grabbing Hersh’s wrist, while the bottle in her right hand was shoved into Hersh’s mouth.

…Wasn’t that alcohol over 96% proof? More like pure alcohol than liquor.

“Yeah, yeah… The World Tree sucks, right? Fairies are trash, right? I know…! I know…! Here, drink up…!”

“Gulp! Gulp! Gag!”

Overwhelmed by Ferne’s strength, Hersh had no choice but to swallow the alcohol being poured into her mouth. The translucent liquid spilled over her lips, soaking her shirt and emitting a strong alcohol smell.

It took less than twenty seconds for Hersh to roll her eyes and pass out.

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