Chapter: 341
With Barniol, who shouldered the blame and vanished, the first person to be singled out by the Emperor was none other than the Executive Manager. And his first announcement? The appearance of the Khan.
Now suddenly receiving an impressive title and countless gazes directed at him, the Executive Manager maintained his composure. Perhaps due to spending so much time locked away in the Information Department’s office, he seemed surprisingly unperturbed by the attention today, as the gravity of the matter made other concerns fade away.
“As Your Majesty knows, the recent consolidation and rebellion of the nomadic forces have centered on the Gaar tribe, and after we dealt with the traitors, we thoroughly eliminated their base of operations.”
These nomads had never unified in their long history, but since the Gaar tribe was the first to pull it off, the Empire realized it had to wipe them out completely. Heck, I was even involved in that extermination process, and boy, was it a wild time!
“However, Udesir Dorgon, the offspring of the traitor, and the previously missing Kasik are rallying the Gaar tribe, promptly gathering forces by suppressing nearby tribes. The information relayed by the Blue Talon Knights confirms this.”
That “confirmed” claim meant that what the Executive Manager was saying about Dorgon rallying forces and self-claiming the title of Khan wasn’t just idle gossip; it was the real deal.
And even if he hadn’t reached the point of self-proclaiming a Khan yet, it was certain that signs of a unified force were re-emerging, much like five years ago.
‘Those guys, huh?’
A sigh was threatening to escape me. I had a pretty good idea of the tribes that Dorgon managed to bring together.
Kagan had indeed swept away the pro-Empire tribes in the North, but he hadn’t wiped out every tribe that refused to join forces. The tribes that were somewhat neutral, uninterested in battle, or those requiring no coaxing had managed to slip past Kagan’s grasp. They were kind of like reserves, nominally under Kagan’s banner but really just chilling in the backline.
Of course, that made sense. Kagan’s anti-Empire coalition was already filled with tribes at each other’s throats, so inviting along tribes that would be indifferent to an alliance? He’d have to be nuts to do that.
‘I should have dealt with this back then.’
After the war, the Empire didn’t manage to seize those neutral tribes either. They didn’t get wiped out under the pretense of being Kagan’s forces, nor did they actively try to recruit them to gain influence in the North. The Empire probably just lacked the resources to handle either option successfully.
And well, this is the result. While the Empire was busy dwindling, Dorgon quickly reined in those third-party tribes and amassed sufficient numbers to threaten the Empire.
“Moreover, the forces gathered by Udesir Dorgon number between 50,000 and 70,000—”
“Executive Manager.”
At the Emperor’s displeased summons, the Executive Manager hurriedly lowered his head.
“Twenty thousand nomads would require at least five legions to contend with on the plains. Be precise.”
Hesitating a bit, the Executive Manager finally opened his mouth.
“I apologize, Your Majesty, but since the last major monster-hunt war, a lot of the Empire’s eyes and ears in the North have vanished, so unlike before, I’m not able to gauge the sizes of each tribe. Furthermore, I cannot ascertain the numbers of the remnants hiding in the dungeons.”
Acknowledging that he lacked capability right in front of the Emperor—that was a situation that would cause the Emperor’s eyebrows to twitch in agitation, but they soon relaxed again.
Honestly, it was true that the Empire’s intelligence on the Northern tribes had suffered a catastrophic blow due to the last major war. While the Emperor was strict, he wasn’t the kind of maniac to push for the impossible. In fact, the Executive Manager deserved praise for at least bringing in some rough data.
“…Based on my limited judgment, the chance of their numbers being below 60,000 is quite slim.”
“Is that so?”
And with the Executive Manager’s desperate addition, the Emperor’s voice remained chillingly calm.
Now, the variance of 20,000 had narrowed down to just 10,000. While that number wasn’t small by any means, reducing it further would require more guesswork than actual information.
“Minister of Defense.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
After listening to the Executive Manager’s report, the Emperor turned his attention to the Minister of Defense.
“How far along is the cavalry restoration?”
“Our cavalry’s attack capability is still top-notch, having recovered to about 70%, but we are lacking in terms of training compared to the nomads.”
The Minister of Defense’s response, formulated as if terrified by the ramifications, didn’t elicit any particular response from the Emperor. After all, that was something the Emperor could comprehend, so it was overlooked.
Cavalry wasn’t just a matter of tossing a spear and slapping a horse on the back; it required blood, sweat, and tears to train them, reaching a level where they could truly be called cavalry. Going up against the nomads demands even more exertion than usual.
“However, with the exception of the cavalry, all other units have regained their previous sizes.”
“The efforts of the Minister of Defense have truly been significant.”
That was somewhat encouraging information, but the Emperor still wore a stone-cold expression. Regaining size was one thing; it didn’t mean that they had regained the same level of training. The Minister of Defense was likely just trying to placate the Emperor slightly.
In any case, the Emperor shared the information with all the high-ranking officials gathered in the conference room, then fell silent. Having heard the numbers of the nomads gathering in the North and confirming the size of the cavalry, it was evident a war was on the horizon. The nobles began to exchange wary glances.
How many troops would they have to mobilize when the war began? How much material supplies would they need? Would the rations hold up? They were probably all whirring in their heads with those thoughts.
“Iron-Blood Duke.”
“Many materials have headed North in the wake of the areas damaged by the major monster-hunt war. Relatively few materials available for producing military supplies, so— I apologize for being so presumptuous, but it may be difficult for a prolonged war.”
“Wise Duke.”
“Thanks to Your Majesty’s blessing, last year was a bountiful harvest. However, due to consecutive distributions, our reserves are rather scant, and like the Iron-Blood Duke, we cannot guarantee supplies for a long-term engagement.”
When the Emperor called upon both Dukes, they immediately delivered the responses he sought just by being summoned.
Meanwhile, the Wise Duke’s lack of any sign of inebriation raised some eyebrows among the nobles. I guess you can gauge the crisis level by whether the guy is sober or not—who even is this guy?
‘Oh man, we’re doomed.’
Of course, right now, it wasn’t about whether the Wise Duke was sober or not. The reports from the Minister of Defense and both Dukes indicated that the Empire’s situation wasn’t very rosy either.
While the Empire dazzled during last year’s New Year’s Ball, showing off their recovery from previous wounds, they were bleeding from the major monster-hunt war and the succession dispute—yet nobility was trying to display that they had regained their former glory.
In truth, a significant part of that was just bravado.
‘You can’t completely erase a wound in three years.’
To liken the Empire’s situation, it would be like a patient stumbling through a 12-round boxing match, spitting blood, with broken bones and a slight concussion.
Sure it was true that the Empire arose from bed after groaning and moaning due to its injuries. They had indeed regained substantial pre-war capabilities. But asking that recently bedridden patient, “Hey, are you up for another round of boxing?” would be downright nuts! That’s exactly the situation the Empire was in. They could technically do it, but with any more strain, they should be prepared for the aftermath—win or lose.
It’s like a restaurant hanging a “We Are Open for Business” sign while crumbling apart. The Empire was just slightly better, but thank goodness it hadn’t collapsed entirely.
“Your Majesty, may I take a moment to speak?”
Amidst the restless nobles, a middle-aged man requested the floor.
“Granted.”
Bowing slightly in courtesy after receiving the Emperor’s permission, the man stated,
“Long live Your Majesty, and thank you for your kindness.”
That figure was none other than the Chairman of the Empire’s Council, Count Bardon. A shadow of the Emperor, working as his hand and mouth, sought to make an independent statement before the gathering of high-ranking officials. All the noble eyes turned towards the Chairman, scanning for anything out of the ordinary.
Would he be speaking independently, or had he coordinated a performance with the Emperor beforehand?
“Your Majesty, while it is true that the Empire is shackled with many chains today, it still must take action.”
“To acknowledge the Empire’s difficulties and still speak of action. Chairman, what do you mean by that?”
“It’s high time you show a resolute bloodbath and majesty to those rebels who have seemingly forgotten the final fate of the traitors.”
As soon as he finished that line, a few dukes began requesting permission to speak. Naturally, the Emperor granted them all.
“Your Majesty, while our Empire has faced many adversities, in the end, it has prevailed.”
“Though the Empire may have fallen short in this past, failing to achieve former glory, if we do not act now, the northern rebels will only grow increasingly arrogant. In that case, we would face even more blood and tears. Your Majesty, the Empire must move now!”
“Your Majesty! The valiant soldiers of your court and the grateful subjects await only your command!”
As the calls for war erupted, the once quiet conference room transformed into a venue condemning the arrogance and treachery of the Northern tribes.
‘So that was it.’
Watching all those Dukes, I took a step back, realizing the Chairman was just a puppet dancing to the Emperor’s tune. Naturally, a Duke wouldn’t dare express his own thoughts. It was clear they were in cahoots.
– …And I just learned that the Minister of the Imperial Household has summoned all ministers. The Emperor is personally attending the Imperial Council.
That reminded me of the report from the second section. Before issuing the summoning order, I’d wondered why the Emperor was visiting the council, but from that moment, he must have been thinking of declaring war.
As time passed, the other nobles began to realize the situation as well, slowly joining in the raucous atmosphere of condemnation. Though their expressions were distorted, it wasn’t solely due to fury against the North.
“With so many loyal subjects like this, I am indeed a fortunate Emperor,” he said.
That phrase was the nail in the coffin. The nobles’ collective uproar turned into calls for war. Now if the Emperor were to declare war, he would no longer be the “Emperor who started a war despite the Empire’s difficulties,” but rather “The Emperor who accepted the voluntary calls for war from his loyal subjects.”
In short, the nobles at risk of loss in this war wouldn’t have to feel guilty about it. Only another day in the political arena for these guys.
“Your words are indeed right. The Empire has always been steadfast, and regardless of the obstacles ahead, it will ultimately endure. The Khan is merely another lord among my many vassals.”
With that proclamation, the Emperor rose from his throne. As he stood, the nobles, along with the Crown Prince and Ainter who had been standing behind him, all knelt down and bowed their heads.
“I will show the traitors who defy Heaven the power of Heaven, and instill majesty upon those who deny it.”
A voice booming despite his age reverberated through the grand assembly hall.
“I shall put the North, which has strayed from the Empire’s embrace, and the nomads who know not their true lord, back into proper order.”
?
‘Wait, what?’
Hold on, was that not just some simple command to go stamp out a rebellion? Stray from the Empire’s embrace? Bring back order?
“From the southernmost tip of this continent to the northernmost peak, the light of Livnoman shall shine upon them.”
No matter how you slice it, that’s not just a simple call to arms. It sounds more like a declaration of conquest over the North.
“Long live His Majesty! Long live Livnoman!”
“Forever may Kefellofen stand! Long live His Majesty! Long live! Long live!”
But no one dared to raise an objection.
In this atmosphere, speaking out would brand you a traitor instantly.
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