Chapter 412
Barandi, Marquis Battle Gurt of Barandi.
Count Kaitana, Daran Kzan of Kaitana.
Count Kirgia, Kchur Darian of Kirgia.
Count Virs, Nebila Rutin of Virs.
Count Digera, Harald Mungerte of Digera.
Count Ikilan, Sarna Sikratia of Ikilan.
Count Gorming, Gilke Korco of Gorming.
Count Yudher, Nachab Olan of Yudher.
Count Ramandia, Ugan Gorta of Ramandia.
Count Kital, Irad Natlan of Kital.
Count Lakhar, Hokor Bayu of Lakhar.
Count Loromana, Enji Araha of Loromana.
Count Charaul, Jaya Tatakia of Charaul.
Lastly, Count Wyridia, Carl Krasius of Wyridia.
In total, fourteen grand lords have gathered in the Wyridia County. These aren’t just simple nobles, nor are they just titled nobles; they are grand lords managing a significant territory.
“The Empire and the North have long been in opposition, but this unfortunate history stems from mutual misunderstanding. There have also been wicked individuals who took advantage of this rift to incite discord between the two forces, causing wise seekers of peace to suffer in tears at the hands of these nefarious schemers.”
Starting with Count Kaitana, all the grand lords from the North have gathered in the banquet hall. I raised the glass placed on the table and spoke.
The unfortunate conflict between the Empire and the North, the traitors who instigated the conflict, and the good sages who perished amidst their machinations—these are the highlights worth mentioning. The Empire and the North could have understood and united as one if it weren’t for a handful of traitors.
Of course, I didn’t need to mention who those traitors were.
“However, it seems even the heavens were saddened by the blood and tears shed during this conflict, for at last, the Empire and the North have united. Warm coexistence, rather than cold opposition, has come to us.”
With those words, I took one step at a time towards the grand lords. I approached them, who too held their glasses, adorned with faint smiles.
“This remarkable achievement was made possible by the grace of Enen and the protection of the Great Emperor. It was due to the existence of sages seeking peace that allowed the Empire to finally close the long chapter of conflict and open one of harmony and coexistence.”
Then I raised the glass high in my hand, as if offering it to the heavens, showcasing it to the world.
Simultaneously, the thirteen grand lords who were watching me—and no, the nomads who have now become a part of the Empire—raised their glasses toward the sky.
“We have opened a new history. In the span of thousands of years, only we are leading the singular history.”
This is not an exaggeration. In the history of mankind, there has never been a moment when settled citizens and nomads truly became one. Only now, with the Empire taking control of the Northern regions, and with the nomads pledging their allegiance to the Emperor, has there been a moment of genuine unity.
“Thus, I, Count Carl Krasius of Wyridia, vow before Enen and the Great Emperor. I will ensure that this history of peace and prosperity does not falter. I will be the bridge between the settled citizens and the nomads, who have finally become neighbors.”
Upon this declaration, the smiles of the nomadic grand lords grew even wider. As a believer of the Dawn Sect, I pledged myself before Enen, and as a noble of the Empire, I vowed in front of the Great Emperor. For nobles, this is the highest vow that even death cannot intervene. I suppose the grand lords were interpreting it as my declaration to lead and protect the Northern faction indefinitely.
Of course, I held no religious fervor nor loyalty. However, for the sake of my peaceful life, I must live my life as the leader of the Northern faction. If I were to neglect the North, I’d face the Emperor’s ire while having to deal with the disgruntlements of the North simultaneously.
The reasons may be peculiar, but in any case, the outcome is a bizarre yet perfect vow. Under this vow, the fourteen grand lords shouted sincerely.
“I, Count Carl Krasius of Wyridia, shall not forget the friendship and ideals of the comrades gathered here! For the protection of thousands and the order of the continent!”
“Long live the protection of thousands and the order of the continent!”
As I watched the grand lords heartily slinging back their drinks, I too indulged in my alcohol.
I hadn’t really built any friendships with the Northern grand lords, nor did I understand their ideals—yet here we are, the Northern faction has launched. I’ve become the leader of the North, and as long as I fulfill my obligations, the North will follow my command and respect me.
…Well, as long as I fulfill my obligations.
‘This is insane.’
A hollow laugh escaped me. Truth be told, I wasn’t one to frequently show up in social circles, but now that I became the leader of a faction, I had to engage in lively social activities. If I lived like a hermit, the Northern grand lords would likely abandon me and look for a different leader.
I had formed this faction to wield influence in the central areas and interact with mainland nobles. However, if the faction leader turns out to be a recluse, the members would feel disheartened.
‘The weight of being a leader…’
I slowly closed my eyes. It’s not the weight of being a head of household, but the burden of a faction leader. How did my life turn out like this?
“Count, let me pour you a drink this time.”
As I stood lost in thought, I found Marquis Barandi approaching with a bottle of wine.
To be honest, it feels surreal. Despite the differences in history and tradition between old-school nobles and new nobles, it’s a bit embarrassing to see a marquis bowing to a count. It feels like a complete breakdown of the social hierarchy.
“Wouldn’t it be only proper for me to pour for the Marquis?”
“Oh? Is that so? It feels a bit awkward, as if our titles have swapped.”
That sounded like a joke to anyone’s ears, but I couldn’t bring myself to laugh. Even I thought it was pretty ridiculous for a count to be a faction leader while a marquis was a member of that faction.
What if the Emperor looked at this and thought, ‘This doesn’t add up,’ and raised the status of Wyridia County to a marquisate? That would be terrifying.
“…Thinking about it, there’s really no point in considering titles when it comes to friendship.”
Pushing aside the horrific thought of my seal evolving into a white seal symbolizing a marquis, I finally spoke.
The current marquises are all significant figures boasting formidable prestige. Even the somewhat weaker Marquis Barandi, being the only marquis in the North, is nearly impervious to demotion.
So I shouldn’t worry too much. My title as a count should remain the highest.
It should definitely be that way.
After the banquet commemorating the establishment of the Northern faction concluded, the grand lords led me to the rooms where they would stay.
Fortunately, Wyridia, having once served as the gathering point for the Northern expeditionary forces, had ample rooms suitable for high-ranking officials to stay. Ironically, it is now not the Northern expeditionary forces but Northern nomads taking shelter.
— That signifies that a new era of harmony, not conflict, has arrived. And I’m glad to be at the forefront of it alongside Count.
“Too much flattery, Your Excellency.”
I smiled awkwardly at the Grand Marshall’s words. Being recognized as the leader of harmony doesn’t exactly feel like a compliment, especially since I had received a scolding under the Emperor’s implicit orders.
‘Unless you’re a principal slave, that is.’
I had a bitter self-reflection but managed to maintain my smile. I couldn’t show a dreary face in front of the Grand Marshall who offered his congratulations for the faction formation.
‘Word travels fast.’
In a moment of astonishment, I felt a sense of wonder. Already a powerful duke and captain of the Northern faction, the Grand Marshall seems to have suddenly accelerated in information-gathering speed, potentially due to becoming the Emperor’s father-in-law. Hearing about the Northern faction formation from only the Emperor and relevant officials is abnormal.
Of course, the Grand Marshall isn’t the type to brew idealistic schemes based on the information he acquired. Still, knowing he would become aware of my every move is oddly embarrassing.
— By the way, it seems I will be referred to as the Grand Duke of the North now.
…?
“What?”
I accidentally asked in surprise.
‘Grand Duke of the North?’
That phrase alone sends shivers down your spine. In this Empire, the title of Grand Duke is singular; there’s only one, reserved for the heir apparent. The title of the Kabashul Rayts, no less.
Yet, despite my response, the Grand Marshall merely chuckled. Isn’t throwing a bomb and then just laughing a bit too much?
— It’s my childhood nickname. Maybe because my territory is in the North?
“Is it even permissible for a noble to have a nickname like Grand Duke?”
— Regardless of what people call me, my title remains that of a duke. His Majesty doesn’t seem to care much about it, so don’t worry.
The Grand Marshall kept laughing, but it was certainly not something to brush aside lightly. Regardless of being a duke, a noble having the nickname of “Grand Duke” is an immensely rebellious act. Did this slip past the paranoid Emperor?
There’s no way that should happen. No matter how you spin it, an imperial family member wouldn’t look favorably on a duke rising to such a title.
Seemingly perceiving my reservations, the Grand Marshall continued with a grin.
— There was a character named the Grand Duke of the North in a popular romance novel from back in the day. It was a historical novel set during the Muno Empire, and eventually, that character surrendered to the imperial family, so there was no harm done.
‘Ah.’
I found that explanation understandable. So it wasn’t a high-evaluated title that stemmed from recognizing the Grand Marshall’s power and authority, but rather a nickname spawned from a romance novel enjoyed by noble ladies. It’s funny to think that the Emperor would react so sensitively over a nickname of this nature.
‘Grand Duke of the North?’
I looked at the Grand Marshall’s reflection in the communication device.
Sure, he has some age on him, with a mix of gray hair, yet he sports splendid silver hair and wears the blue attire emblematic of the Nuyren dukedom. Above all, he is the vice-commander of the Imperial Army overseeing the Empire’s military.
He truly looks like a painted Grand Duke of the North. Plus, I heard he was quite the heartthrob in his youth, attracting many noble ladies’ affections.
‘Now I’m being dubbed the Grand Duke of the North?’
Admiration for the Grand Marshall slowly morphed into mixed feelings. Just as the Grand Marshall stated, that nickname of “Grand Duke of the North” seems destined to fall on me.
With the territories in the North holding two significant experiences under my belt, handling the energetic Northern nomads as their faction leader…
‘Damn it.’
Regrettably, I too fit the mold of a picturesque Grand Duke of the North. What’s more, I’m still in my twenties, actively playing the role of the Grand Duke.
‘…Then does the Golden Duke become the Grand Duke of the South?’
Suddenly, that thought crossed my mind. In romance novels, alongside the cold and mighty Grand Duke of the North, there often resides a cunning and wealthy Grand Duke of the South.
It fits perfectly. Anyone can see that the Golden Duke plays the role of the Grand Duke of the South. Moreover, the Golden Duke’s wife is known to have a dozen.
‘This is definitely a romance novel scenario.’
With a renewed awareness, I once again recognized the absurdity of this world as a story akin to a romance novel.
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