Chapter 75 : Chapter 75

Chapter 75. Supernova

A few days later, under what appeared to be a casual push from Sir Lucius,

ripples upon ripples spread through the noble circles of every frontier, and even through the royal capital of Orlandia.

“Have you heard? The Frontier Edict has produced two more barons!”

“Sabda Medici? The second son of the Duke of the Southern Frontier? And Camilla Russell from the Eastern Frontier?”

“Heavens! Together with that Eli Pendragon from before… three newly ennobled barons have appeared in the Western Frontier in such a short span of time!”

“Quiet! Mind your words! But… Grand Duke Federico of the Western Frontier is now the Prime Minister of the Kingdom!

If a title can be won there, so long as one earns a merit great enough to catch his eye, then…”

Rumors, astonishment, doubt, and speculation spread rapidly through luxurious salons and banquets glittering with clinking cups.

Over the past several decades, the granting of noble titles in the kingdom had become extraordinarily stingy.

Not only did it require the strong recommendation of dukes and marquesses from the various frontiers, it also required the final approval of either the king himself or the prime minister.

And now, Grand Duke Federico La Roche of the Western Frontier held the high office of prime minister as well.

So long as one could establish a merit in the Western Frontier great enough to enter his field of vision, the title of baron suddenly no longer seemed beyond reach.

That thought spread like wildfire, instantly igniting the ambitions of many noble sons and daughters who had once sneered at the desolate Western Frontier.

Those nobles who had previously observed the western campaigns with skepticism or mockery also began to reexamine their maps and weigh the risks against the rewards.

Some even more ambitious than that—adventurers and mercenary leaders with grand designs of their own—also caught the scent of an opportunity to change their fate.

The roads leading west quietly grew busier.

Some of those arriving were private guards in fine equipment, marching beneath the bannered crests of different noble houses.

Others came in small groups of three or five, carrying weapons and ambition in equal measure—hard-eyed, dangerous men.

The Western Wasteland, that barren soil once regarded as a land of exile,

had, under the lure of noble rank and Lucius’s subtle guidance, suddenly become a “gold rush.”

…

Inside the Prime Minister’s office,

Marquess Toscana, an old noble of the Western Frontier, stood with a furrowed brow.

He gently placed a letter sealed with the wax crest of the Governor of the Western Frontier upon Grand Duke Federico’s desk.

“My lord,” Toscana said, his voice colored with confusion and a trace of dissatisfaction,

“I truly do not understand. Sir Lucius has acted far too rashly this time.

Runestone City, Mapleleaf City, and before them, Lucerne City— granted, those strongholds of the rebels have been uprooted, but to confer baronies upon three people so lightly?

Sabda Medici is the son of the Duke of the Southern Frontier, and behind Camilla Russell stands the ducal house of the Eastern Frontier…

“Would this not allow outsiders to take root all too easily upon the soil of our Western Frontier,

and divide away the glory and benefits that ought to belong to the nobles of the Western Frontier?”

As a long-established noble whose house had been rooted in the Western Frontier for generations, he instinctively rejected these outsiders.

They had risen to stand as equals to the baronial houses of the Western Frontier on the strength of a single campaign.

What was more, the powers behind them would likely go on to erode the space that rightfully belonged to the local nobility.

Grand Duke Federico set down the confidential dispatch he had been reviewing concerning grain transfers from the Eastern Frontier and lifted his ancient-well-deep gaze.

He did not answer Toscana’s question directly.

“Tos,” the Grand Duke said in a steady, even voice,

“The laws of the kingdom say that merit must be rewarded. They recovered lost lands and drove out enemy forces. Those are undeniable accomplishments.

In sentiment or reason, in public or in private, they should be rewarded. Should they not?”

“And besides…” A faint curve touched Federico’s lips.

“You must learn to look farther ahead. Peace… has never been a motionless pool of dead water.

It requires… balance and compromise.”

His meaning was unmistakable.

“And with this, Duke Russell will likely no longer be able to delay the decree on grain allocation.”

Marquess Toscana was no fool.

Federico’s words were like a hand brushing away the mist before his eyes.

This was far better than letting any one house dominate alone, or forcing the local powers of the Western Frontier into direct and bitter opposition with a single outside force.

The Prime Minister and Sir Lucius were playing a vast game.

The confusion on his face quickly gave way to understanding and admiration. He bowed with wholehearted conviction.

“My lord’s foresight is profound. It was I who was slow to understand.”

“Mm.” Federico gave a faint nod.

Marquess Toscana hesitated, but in the end, he could not suppress another question that had been lingering in his heart.

“My lord, how did your discussion with Marquess Leon go?

Has he… begun to yield?”

Federico’s gaze remained upon his documents. He did not even lift his head, though a trace of unfathomable mystery appeared at the corner of his mouth.

“How did the discussion go? That is not what matters.”

He raised his eyes and looked at Toscana, who still wore a puzzled expression, then added,

“What matters is that he came to speak with me.”

The moment House Black of the Royal Domain stepped through the doors of the Prime Minister’s office in the Western Frontier, the initiative had already changed hands in silence, regardless of the outcome.

That, in itself, was a signal. A posture.

What remained was merely a matter of time, bargaining chips, and patience.

Toscana savored the deeper meaning behind those words. Thoughtfully, he nodded and asked no further questions.

…

In the warm Southern Frontier, the ducal garden was filled with intoxicating floral fragrance.

Duke Hackson Medici of the Southern Frontier, a tall, imposing middle-aged man,

stood with his hands clasped behind his back, listening as his trusted steward quietly reported the intelligence gathered from all sides.

“…Young Master Sabda has successfully recovered Runestone City and has been formally granted the title of Baron of Runestone City by Sir Lucius, Governor of the Western Frontier…”

When the steward reached that point, a hint of a smile entered his voice.

At last, a trace of satisfaction appeared on Duke Hackson’s stern face, and he nodded slightly.

“Good. At least he has not failed the expectations of the house. He has recovered some of our honor.”

That Sabda had been able to seize Runestone City so quickly and obtain a barony proved his ability, and to some degree washed away the earlier disgrace.

“It seems the Gold-Tier Knight and those two hundred elites I assigned to him were not wasted.”

A similar scene was playing out in the Eastern Frontier, famed for its art and refinement.

Inside the study of the ducal house of Russell, however, the atmosphere was far more relaxed and cheerful.

The Duke of the Eastern Frontier was an elegant middle-aged man. As he read the family letter his daughter Camilla had sent home, a smile of relief and pride appeared on his face.

“Baroness of Mapleleaf City… good, very good indeed! Just as expected of my daughter!”

He set down the letter and said with a smile to the captain of the house knights standing nearby,

“Send the order. Dispatch another batch of fine weapons and armor to Camilla, along with several of her favorite eastern warhorses.

Tell her to do her work properly in the Western Frontier and not disgrace the East!”

…

Inside the study of the lord’s keep in Obsidian Territory Valley,

the sunlight beyond the window was just right, falling across the piled documents and maps upon the desk.

Eli had only just finished dealing with a report regarding training in the new recruit camp when Estor hurried in.

“My lord, the latest news from Thorn City.” Estor kept his voice deliberately low.

“Sabda Medici… has recovered Runestone City and has been formally ennobled by Sir Lucius as Baron of Runestone City.

Ennobled alongside him was the daughter of Duke Russell of the Eastern Frontier, Camilla Russell. She took Mapleleaf City.”

The hand with which Eli held the quill paused slightly. He lifted his head, and not only did no gravity appear on his face, but a trace of amusement did instead.

“Oh? Baron Sabda Medici of Runestone City… Heh. Now that is rather interesting.”

“Ennobled? However…” Eli’s brows rose faintly.

“His territory in Shadow Vale lies deeper within the heart of Nightsong Forest than Obsidian Territory does. By all rights, the beast tide he suffered should have been even more violent…

So how did he manage to withstand the beast tide and still retain enough strength to send troops to take a city?”

The answer was almost already on his lips.

“It would seem the support provided to him by the ducal house of the Southern Frontier was even greater than we imagined.”

“But this move from Sir Lucius…” he murmured softly to himself, the smile at his lips deepening.

“The timing could not have been better. Sabda has been ennobled, and Camilla has been ennobled…

That draws the eyes of the royal capital and all the other powers toward them instead.

It buys our Obsidian Territory and Lucerne City a precious stretch of breathing room.”

He paused for a moment.

“But the more brilliant part of this move lies in its balance.

He has pushed us all onto the front stage and turned each of us into the most obvious target in the others’ eyes.”

Eli could almost picture Sabda gnashing his teeth at that very moment, fixing the point of his spear directly upon him.

With a single new barony, Lucius had effortlessly directed Sabda’s anger, his competitive pressure, and his ambition straight toward Eli.

“From here on… that fellow Sabda will definitely turn his blade against us.”

He turned and instructed Estor,

“Pass down the order. Lucerne City and Obsidian Territory are to continue carrying out the policy of low-profile development.

Reinforce the walls, train the soldiers, stockpile supplies, absorb the new population… everything is to proceed according to the original plan.

The livelier it becomes outside, the more firmly we must keep our composure. Quiet growth is the surest path.”

When he finished speaking, Sir Lucius’s calm, unreadable eyes rose involuntarily in his mind.

“You truly are frightening, Sir. Acting like this is enough to chill the heart of even a loyal subject of the Western Frontier…”

Eli had a premonition.

Lucius would be a source of help along the road of his advancement— but at the same time, he would also become his greatest obstacle.