NOVEL NEXT Chapter 180
Chapter 180. Childhood Friend – Both Sides
Lev drove his horse forward. Leaving behind the barbarian youth bewildered by his arrogant declaration, he boldly broke through the main gate.
– Dwiner Tribe: A tribe that cultivates the mountains for farming. They don’t have many warriors. They believe in a deity named ‘Eiletia.’ They are hostile to outsiders.
This was written on the map he had taken from the gangster leader of the Dorf family in a previous episode. The crude handwriting briefly described the characteristics of the tribe, but as Lev glanced around the village, he discovered it contained errors.
They had many warriors.
Villagers poured out at the shouts of the young men guarding the gate. Among them, there were over forty armed men at a rough count.
“Where is the chief? Lead me to him.”
Lev threw his sword sheath to the ground. It landed in the middle of the village as he commanded his horse arrogantly, as if already receiving guidance, stopping even the gathered warriors.
The chief must be in that big house.
Lev approached the largest house, correctly guessing it to be the chief’s residence. A warrior in his fifties, wearing five leather straps, came out and glared at Lev. He looked ready to shout but held back his words.
“Are you a knight? What is this outrageous behavior?”
“You’re mistaken.”
“What?”
“I’m a general before a knight. I represent all indigenous people of this land and have come to propose something to you.”
“…What is it?”
Lev raised his voice to address everyone.
“I will destroy the Orun Kingdom. This year will mark the end of the kingdom’s tyranny, which enslaves the indigenous people. I hope your Dwiner Tribe will join us. Many tribes are already with me.”
Over three hundred villagers murmured. Some young men, inspired by Lev’s declaration, had gleaming eyes, while some elderly men shook their heads in doubt.
“Decide. Will you reclaim the right to live on this land with your own strength, or will you wait to be slaughtered like livestock?”
Lev extended his arm, pointing to the livestock pen at the corner of the village, agitating the villagers.
Sensing the atmosphere was about to turn, the chief invited Lev inside. In a room with fur laid out as a carpet, he offered Lev the upper seat and spoke.
“It’s not that I don’t believe your words, knight…”
“Call me general.”
“…General, it’s not that I don’t believe your words, but I can’t make a hasty decision. How can the indigenous people possibly overthrow the kingdom? Furthermore, it’s hard to trust a general I’ve just met today.”
“You seem to know the outside world well.”
“Yes. We have a good friend. Though he’s an outsider and merely a trader, he has visited our village for a long time and kept us informed about the outside.”
“First,”
Lev drew a line.
“There’s no need to doubt my identity or motives. I’m not from the kingdom but from the Bizan tribe.”
“The Bizan tribe? I heard they were annihilated long ago.”
“My father survived. Although the main attackers were from the Cross Church, the Orun Kingdom also lent their soldiers, making them accomplices.”
“Do you have proof? It’s hard to believe you’re an indigenous person. From what I know, the Bizan tribe didn’t convert…”
The chief’s eyes scrutinized the self-claimed ‘general,’ looking for tattoos. Lev could have shown the tattoo of Barbatos to allay his suspicion, but he had no such tattoo.
Due to the aftermath of resolving Dop Bizan’s curse, the tattoo he had since the beginning of the scenario had disappeared.
How complicated.
Lev had no choice but to insist.
“If you’re looking for a tattoo, I don’t have one. I’m not a follower of the Cross Church, but I also don’t worship the deity my Bizan tribe believed in. But, my father had a trumpet tattoo on his left arm.”
The chief’s eyes were doubtful but slightly less so after hearing the exact description of the tattoo.
Lev changed the topic.
“Has the Dwiner tribe converted?”
“Yes, a long time ago.”
“For a converted tribe, there’s no church in the village. Do you know what that means?”
“…No matter how great the Cross Church is, could they build a church in a remote mountain village like this?”
“No. My village, Demos, was also remote but had a church. The only difference is that the Orun Kingdom regards you as barbarians, planning to enslave you anytime, hence not allowing a church. Perhaps a missionary visits occasionally from time to time. Am I wrong?”
“…”
“You will be enslaved someday. The elderly will die, the young men will enter mines never to see sunlight again. The women will become maids, and the pretty girls will be laid beneath the enemies. So, make your decision.”
The chief swallowed hard.
This man’s words were right. Furthermore, the nearby marsh-dwelling tribe had been entirely captured recently, keeping the Dwiner tribe on high alert.
The chief knew they had no future as things stood.
“How could we possibly bring down the kingdom? Even if I gather all my tribesmen, it would be impossible. I’ve heard the kingdom commands tens of thousands of soldiers. There are even hundreds of knights like you, General…”
“I apologize for my exaggeration.”
Lev bowed his head slightly.
“Saying we’d topple the kingdom was indeed incorrect. My aim is to bring down the Lognum royal family.”
“Lognum? Are you referring to the Lognum Mountain Range?”
“Both right and wrong. The rulers of this kingdom have affixed the name ‘Lognum’ to their lineage. I intend to overthrow those arrogant rulers.”
Lev cleared his throat. After loosening his neck, he continued.
“Two border counts are on our side. You might not know what a border count is, so let me explain… They are a type of warlord. They command the kingdom’s warriors.”
“Oh… Is that so?”
The chieftain roughly understood Lev’s words. It was easier to comprehend if he thought of it as a power struggle between the chieftain and the great warrior.
A fight between the chieftain who leads the people and the great warrior who leads the warriors.
It was hard to say which side was more advantageous.
It depended on the person.
If the chieftain was the better person, he would maintain his position, and if the great warrior was more ambitious, he would usurp the chieftain’s position.
With all else being equal, the chieftain who was deeply involved in the lives of the tribesmen would be at an advantage, but in extreme situations (which sometimes happened even in peaceful villages), the great warrior who had earned the warriors’ favor could ascend to the chieftain’s position by force.
No matter how many supported the chieftain, if the strong warriors began to act out, it became highly troublesome.
“So, it’s not entirely hopeless.”
“Indeed.”
Lev hid a bit of the truth.
Unlike a small tribe’s chieftain, there was no need to explain how powerful a ‘king’ could be. He let the chieftain misunderstand.
He had already told many lies, but…
Not all of them could be strictly considered lies, right?
Leo would ‘probably’ persuade Marquis Harvey Guidan and Marquis Ebeny Drageen, and although no tribe currently followed him, soon many would join, starting with the Dwiner tribe.
It was a matter of time.
If there was faith, people would gather; without it, they wouldn’t. So, it couldn’t be strictly called a lie. ─ or so Lev thought.
After much deliberation, the chieftain made a decision.
He assured Lev that he would send warriors to the Guidan territory. Using the excuse of entertaining an important guest, he slaughtered a calf; it was a lively celebration but unpleasant to watch.
The calf was beaten.
Pelted with stones, young men with stone hammers chased and killed the fleeing calf.
It was to perform a divination.
The organs of the stressed calf twisted and burst. It was offered to the native deity ‘Eiletii,’ whom the recently converted still believed in, to seek divine permission.
Naturally, the result was a good omen. The chieftain had tipped off the priest, and the tribesmen cheered. As a result, seventy-five warriors from this village volunteered to join.
“Then I leave it to you. Please also persuade the surrounding villages.”
“Do not worry, General. Many from the other 12 villages will volunteer as well.”
Lev nodded and left the village satisfied, heading a bit further south, to the sea beyond the Lognum Mountain Range.
The Norangdeu tribe. He wondered how many warriors that fishing tribe would provide.
* * *
Meanwhile, in Nevis, a banquet was being held at Marquis Guidan’s mansion.
Marquis Harvey had eventually accepted Leo’s proposal. However, since it was impossible to start a rebellion alone, he returned to the capital to rally other nobles.
Leo, Lena, and the marquess accompanied him, but Harriet Guidan, the marquis’s daughter, stayed behind as she was still recovering.
“Lena, you don’t need to do anything. I’ll handle the persuasion; you just stay by my side.”
Leo firmly reminded his sister.
Though he didn’t really want to bring her to the banquet, she insisted,
“I want to help you too, brother!”
Stubbornly, she insisted on joining him, all dressed up as they entered the banquet hall.
Many nobles had gathered at the banquet. It was to celebrate the marquess’s recovery after a long illness, so high nobles comparable to the Guidan family attended with their spouses.
“Oh my – it’s been a while, Count, Countess. I’m sorry I couldn’t attend your son’s wedding.”
“Oh, it’s no problem. We’re just glad you’ve recovered. You even sent a gift, which you didn’t need to…”
“Hoho. Sending it so late, I must seem so foolish, right? It seems you’ve met a good daughter-in-law. I’ve heard the baroness of Rothschild has grown up to be so pretty… She used to send us jam; it was so delicious. Now that we’re in-laws, it’d be a disaster if you kept them all to yourself.”
“Oh, don’t worry. We’ll make sure to send you some. Ah, should we go this way?”
“Yes. The Count is over there. My husband insisted on meeting him. Will ‘Velka Stellar’ suffice for the drinks?”
Count Safia smiled contentedly. He took his favorite drink and headed to the second floor of the banquet hall. Visible from above on the first floor were Marquis Harvey Guidan, Lena, Leo, and the elderly Viscount Bakari.
“Then, I will see you next time, Marquis. It has been an honor to meet you. Princess, Prince.”
Viscount Bakari, noticing Count Safia’s approach, got up coldly. Apparently, the conversation hadn’t gone well, as he lightly greeted Count Safia and passed by him.
Count Safia shrugged at Marquis Guidan and took a seat.
“It’s been a while, Marquis. It’s the first time since we met around last year. But… who are these people with you?”
Marquis Guidan introduced Lena and Leo. He wasn’t particularly trying to do anything special, just making a social appearance. For today, that would suffice; any reconciliation would be planned later.
Yet even this sent a message.
Count Safia was astonished that Leo de Yeriel and Lena de Yeriel were alive. Meanwhile, he sharpened his senses to grasp Marquis Guidan’s intentions in introducing the prince and princess.
“Excuse me for a moment.”
Lena, modestly covering her cleavage, paid a polite greeting.
As Marquis Guidan, Leo, and Count Safia were busy gauging each other, she quietly followed Viscount Bakari, who had left earlier.
‘I mustn’t lose him.’
Lena found her brother and Marquis Guidan’s actions hard to understand.
Hadn’t they planned a rebellion? But Marquis Guidan had politely sent most of the nobles he met on their way.
It seemed as though who could be aligned or not was already decided, as Marquis Guidan did not introduce Lena or Leo to many nobles.
Was it okay to give up so easily?
From what Lena had studied, each noble was precious and powerful. Despite their varying strengths, a noble household could mobilize at least hundreds of soldiers and several knights.
Somehow, grasping even one more person was crucial… Lena, though puzzled, remained quietly on her brother’s instructions. However,
‘Viscount Bakari is a person who must be persuaded.’
He was the father-in-law of Count Ogerton.
‘Soarel Demetri Ogerton,’ a wizard count, had a deep connection with him, and though aware, Marquis Guidan and her brother had nonchalantly let him go. Lena did not understand this.
Lena called out to the viscount. The elderly man turned to look at her in confusion.
“Yes, Princess. Do you have business with me?”
“If it’s not too much trouble, would you escort me?”
Viscount Bakari remained silent for a moment.
He quietly observed the princess, who smiled innocently, and then replied.
“If a noble person requests it, I cannot refuse. However, there must be many younger, more handsome escorts around?”
“My brother told me not to hold hands with such people.”
“Hahaha… I see why he would say so.”
Viscount Bakari descended the stairs with her. Being elderly, his steps were so slow that Lena occasionally had to wait.
While holding Viscount Bakari, Lena refrained from making any particular proposal. Just strolling hand-in-hand was sufficient for her.
Whenever someone approached, startled by Lena’s beauty, she lightly shook the viscount’s hand. The viscount politely turned those people away, taking a few snacks and sharing trivial conversation with her.
Of course, the count-in-law, Count Ogerton, was never mentioned. As though playing the role of an in-law daughter, this was implicitly understood by both.
And he also roughly guessed why Marquis Guidan had brought a foreign prince and princess…
‘A storm is coming.’
It would be wise to detach himself even now, using his frail legs as an excuse, but it was hard to let go of this lovely princess, who naively picked up and enjoyed her sweet snacks.
For now, it was fine.
He was merely escorting the princess, not confessing to join any side…
Then it happened.
“Hahaha! It’s quite a gathering here! It’s good to see everyone. Ah, the Marchioness Guidan. It’s been a long time. We often met at the palace in our youth.”
Viscount Bakari’s face grew pale.
Two young men forcefully entered through the mansion’s main entrance. They were unwelcome guests whom he did not want to meet now.
With dark hair like the night sky, their teeth were perfectly white, and they were handsome youths approaching him directly.
They were Aeton de Lognum, the 1st prince, and Algeo de Lognum, the 2nd prince.
Viscount Bakari, startled, tried to let go of the princess’s hand, but couldn’t. The small hand firmly clutched his frail one as she stood poised, facing the princes.
The viscount sighed.