What Do I Look Like to You?
Ferda tilted his head.
“What does any of that have to do with plotting and fomenting rebellion?”
“Because you are arming your soldiers through corporate contracts and building roads that connect to the Empire. Is that not preparation to make an invasion go smoothly?”
The stretch of logic was absurd even for them.
Ferda answered with unshaken calm.
“We improve the roads for the sake of supply lines, trade, and ease of receiving imperial support in an emergency. Having signed a contract with the Pascal Trading Company, we are also obligated to build roads for their sake. In a land whose only enemies are beasts and monsters, what exactly do you think we are doing with roads that warrants such a petty accusation?”
“The East has defended itself perfectly well without roads until now. What you are doing is excessive armament—an act of threat aimed at the Empire.”
“Defense, you say…”
In that instant the composure in Ferda’s voice vanished, replaced by something that surged up hot and sharp.
“Have any of you ever once seen what is actually happening on the Far Eastern Front?”
“We have not.”
“Have you ever set foot there?”
“We have not.”
“Then of course you would have no idea what is happening in the Far East.”
Ferda himself had not known until he came here. He had attended the Far Eastern Front Joint Council more than once, yet only late did he learn how dire the situation truly was.
“From the beginning the Far Eastern border has been short of budget, manpower, and morale. We have barely filled twenty-five percent of what is needed. And that looks like excessive armament to you?”
“There have been no problems so far. Increasing arms when there is no need to arm carries exactly that meaning.”
“Stop twisting words. To be frank, the only reason the Grand Duchy of Baldrova has been able to hold the monsters at bay is my fiancée—the Grand Duchess Baldrova herself. Without her we would already be corpses. The soldiers of the Far East need better weapons.”
“Twisting words, you say!”
Karl seized on the phrase and raised his voice.
“I stand before you as an imperial inspector! Do you not know you are to treat me as you would the Emperor himself?”
Karl thundered, trying to cow Ferda with sheer volume.
“Right now.”
Ferda’s quiet voice sealed Karl’s mouth shut.
He merely lifted his teacup, legs crossed, and looked up at Karl. Yet something lived in those blue eyes—something that could not belong to a mere human.
“Did you just raise your voice at me, Sir Karl?”
Karl refused to be crushed by the pressure. He still believed volume was his weapon.
Ferda was equally furious. Under his old temperament Karl would already have been a corpse—no, something far more thoroughly ruined. Yet he held himself back.
Has Baldrova been nothing more than a watchdog all this time?
The way they treated her exceeded even his imagination. He had always known they feared her, yet that fear never reached the bone. He wanted nothing more than to send them packing to the Western Empire this very moment. He did not. He chose to look further ahead—for the sake of his fiancée, Baldrova.
In the end Karl, who had tried to dominate with bluster, folded his tail.
“Should a full investigation proceed, we can punish the Regent under imperial law.”
Ferda sipped his tea.
“Then try to stop me.”
“With attention already fixed upon us from above, one man cannot hold the line alone.”
“Is that so?”
Ferda waved a hand as if disappointed.
“Then there is nothing to be done. I shall submit to a thorough investigation and clear my name.”
Karl’s face twisted with frustration before he finally spoke again.
“…Once it begins, no one can stop it.”
“A pity, but it cannot be helped. You have done your duty. You may leave.”
At last Karl heaved a long sigh.
“Why must you do this? A man of your station keeps pretending not to understand.”
He dropped the cheap theatrical act and revealed his true face. His cloudy eyes fixed on Ferda.
“Let us settle this amicably. As a man of the Rosnova family, you know perfectly well what the Punitive Force does.”
“Of course I do. You are knights who rob lords, nothing more.”
“Some do call us that, yes.”
Insults clearly meant nothing to him. He formed a circle with thumb and forefinger.
“Simply hand over the sum for our superiors and a modest commission for myself. Then we will step back.”
“How much?”
Karl spread every finger he had.
“One hundred thousand goldens should suffice.”
“Hmm. One hundred thousand…”
Ferda nodded and set his cup down. Ruri approached with the teapot and refilled it with fresh hot tea.
“One question.”
“Ask it.”
“What do I look like to you?”
Karl answered as though the question were absurd.
“You are the Regent of Baldrova, are you not?”
“Is that how you see me? I rather think you see me as a piece of shit.”
“A—a piece of shit?”
The open obscenity left Karl flustered.
“What are you talking about? How could I possibly regard the Regent that way—”
“Do not worry. I have already heard myself called Baldrova’s kept man and the useless son of Rosnova often enough. Being seen as a piece of shit is well within expectation.”
The mere fact that members of the Punitive Force had come here already carried that meaning.
“I know everything.”
Ferda had once admired true knights. Foremost among them had been the Punitive Force, charged with watching for corruption among the lords.
“I know exactly how you drag honest lords into the abyss.”
When he learned their true nature, no one had been more disappointed.
“If I give you money, what do I become? Ah—this man admitted his guilt and paid for silence. That is how you create another easy mark.”
The moment a foot steps in, one is entangled. Like leaping into a thick swamp, escape by one’s own strength becomes impossible.
“Then more of your kind will gather one by one, asking me for money the way a child trots after its mother for cookie money.”
Identical demands and identical threats would flood in from every side. Even a wealthy lord’s coffers are finite. Yield, and the burden becomes unbearable; try to clean it up, and still more money and power are required. So the lord raises taxes and begins to bleed the land dry. An upright man is driven into a corner until the only path left is genuine corruption.
That was how the Empire’s rot spread.
“Knowing all of that, do you still think I will pay you?”
Ferda had sworn an oath: he would protect everything Baldrova loved and sought to defend. He would never allow her to become a plaything for scoundrels like these.
“So do as you please. Dig for your precious conspiracy and rebellion. Harass me to your heart’s content. I will not give you a single golden—not even a single kupe.”
Ferda’s stance was far more unyielding than expected. Yet Karl was long accustomed to such scenes. How many lords had he watched try to hold out without paying the Punitive Force?
“Then I suppose I have no choice but to raise this matter.”
Anyone who crossed the Punitive Force was crushed without exception. Even a man who wore a grand duke’s authority was still only a newly minted regent—a green boy.
“I hear that recently you murdered a noble. What do you have to say about that?”
The matter of Tessalos Wolcher. They had decided to produce a real crime rather than invent one.
“Murder? Ridiculous. Is it imperial law to arrest a man for killing someone in a duel?”
“Death that follows a duel is still murder. There were witnesses, were there not?”
“There were. One of them is right here.”
Ferda’s gaze flicked toward Ruri.
“Speak. Did I commit murder?”
Ruri shook her head.
“It was an execution. He knew Tessalos had been secretly researching black magic with monsters. Summary execution was only proper.”
“There you have it.”
“That charge has nothing to do with the duel! And testimony from one’s own servant carries no weight!”
“Then whose testimony should we hear?”
Karl smiled thinly.
“Fortunately we are already bringing the witness. He will arrive at this castle shortly.”
“A witness…”
Ferda merely sipped his tea.
“I look forward to meeting him.”
He gestured as though nothing they did could matter. The complete lack of agitation only infuriated Karl further.
We shall see how long that composure lasts. You will end up groveling at my feet!
Yet the conviction that he would be the last one smiling kept Karl’s own smile in place.
A short while later the witness Karl had summoned stepped into the reception room. He was an elderly lord with a thick white beard—the oldest man in the Far East and the highest-ranking after Ferda himself.
Ferda Valdrova is a fool drunk on his own power, arrogant enough that he may soon bring Baldrova’s wrath down upon himself.
He was an open opponent who despised Ferda Valdrova, and the very source of the intelligence that had prompted the Punitive Force to move.
“Ah, Count Consiler! Welcome, welcome!”
Karl greeted him warmly at the door. Count Consiler did not so much as glance his way. His eyes were fixed on Ferda. He walked straight to him and knelt with formal dignity.
“My Lord Regent. Have you been well?”
Ferda received the greeting with quiet simplicity.
“Welcome, Count Consiler.”
An ordinary exchange between nobles. Yet Karl stood frozen as though he had been struck over the head. Nobles greeted one another often enough, but when relations were cool or they faced each other as strangers they exchanged only a silent bow. To show such open courtesy was impossible in noble society unless genuine respect was being offered.
He is merely being polite.
Karl refused to look awkward. Remaining composed to the end was the correct course.
Count Consiler is on our side.
The Count was a knight who had sworn loyalty to the Emperor. An old man who had always walked a tightrope in the Far East, and until recently he had looked upon the young Regent with open dislike. Every lord in the Far East had felt the same. The information had even been verified: Ferda intimidated lords with their own crimes and ruled through fear. Fear made men shrink—but the moment an opening appeared, they would be the first to betray. Since that very intelligence had come from Consiler himself, cooperation was certain.
Having accepted the greeting, Ferda courteously indicated an empty chair.
“Please sit. I have no wish to keep an elder on his knees.”
“Yes.”
Count Consiler took his seat. Karl followed suit and cleared his throat, intending to seize control of the conversation.
“Count Consiler. Thank you for coming.”
“Not at all. The timing simply happened to align.”
Consiler chuckled and stroked his beard. Karl laughed along and steered the topic.
“Count Consiler. You stated that you know about the Tessalos Wolcher affair.”
Consiler nodded.
“I do. I was present as an observer.”
“Then would you be so kind as to testify here and now to the outrage the Regent of Baldrova committed?”
“That story? Yes… you did ask me to speak of it…”
“Indeed. May we hear your testimony of that day?”
Count Consiler’s eyes flicked briefly toward Ferda.
“To begin with the conclusion: the Regent of Baldrova…”
He continued without hesitation.
“…committed no wrong whatsoever in that duel.”
“……What?”
The answer veered wildly from anything Karl had expected.
“W-what do you mean? Ha-ha, I must have misheard…”
“I shall say it again. In that duel the Regent of Baldrova committed no wrong whatsoever.”
Consiler had not chosen the Empire.
“That day Tessalos Wolcher invoked a magic formula with the clear intent of killing the Lord of Baldrova. The Lord merely suppressed him in response. At the time the Regent’s circle was the first. Wolcher was a fourth-circle mage. The gap was decisive. Yet the Wolcher pup knew nothing of ‘moderation.’ Even so, he lost.”
“Yes, he lost. But that loss led to the killing of a noble—”
“No. One cannot view it that way.”
Count Consiler cut Karl off.
“Even after the duel ended he might still have tried to kill with magic. There is a killing intent only the duelists themselves can feel. The Regent may simply have countered before the attack landed. The world of mages is that profound. Is that not so?”
Ferda nodded.
“A mage conceals his final measure until the very end. That much is true.”
“A noble attempted to kill another noble. Even if it ended in attempt alone, the right of life and death is guaranteed. That was the conclusion the lords reached.”
What is this?
The words are completely different.