Awakening the Great Bloodline Chapter 132

Chapter 132 — Superiority

The great lords of the empire gathered in one place. The first to arrive was Count Lugar of the west. He sat astride his horse, scanning the horizon beyond.

Three days later, the Marquis Ashapel's forces appeared from the southwest. Four more days passed, and from the north, Duke Akron's advance cavalry ca riding forward, kicking up clouds of dust.

"Niboria has not fallen yet."

Yet even as he spoke the words, he himself was the first to distrust others. The imperial capital was like a candle fla in the wind, and the emperor's envoys went about pleading pitifully.

'The authority of the imperial house has crumbled. We gathered under the banner of defending the empire, but in truth, this is about laying out a new board. Opportunity lies within great chaos.'

And in the midst of all that, they ca.

Atop a hill opposite the encampnt, tens of thousands marched in column, looking down upon Palrn Fortress.

"……Mountain Rabbits."

The nobles under his command muttered in voices laced with both contempt and fear. A strange silence followed. Count Lugar forced a smile, but could not stop his face from stiffening.

'A man who destroyed two of the empire's eight knight orders and earned the acknowledgnt of a Master.'

Calix had already beco legend.

"That is…… The Rockboar Cavalry. There are elves too!"

"The Silver Shield Legion itself fell under his command — so it was true after all."

"We'll win. We can win against anyone!"

The morale of the Count's own army wavered on the spot. The nobles felt unease and dissonance, yet the common soldiers expressed it as hope.

Those beings who had once inspired an unknown dread had returned, transford into saviors.

'But I too am a lord who rules the western empire.'

Count Lugar steadied his resolve. Nothing had been decided yet. He reminded himself again and again that while he acknowledged his opponent, the way of the nobility was sothing altogether different.

'War and politics are entirely different things. Even a hero born of the age grows dim before the face of reality.'

Crisis is opportunity — he would give what must be given, and in return extract a far greater price. He sent a request for a eting to Calix, then lined his knights and soldiers in strict formation.

Strangely, however, the Mountain Rabbits displayed nothing but a refined stillness, without a single movent. No battle cries, no cheers. The legendary creatures simply stood there, like a force of nature.

And then, monts later, the ssenger returned with a pale face and opened his mouth.

"They have refused the eting."

"……"

The ring on his finger trembled faintly. Just as the seal engraved on its surface seed to blur, humiliation and anxiety struck him at once.

From the very first step, things had gone far beyond expectation.

* * *

An hour before that, a tense air had been drifting through the Mountain Rabbits' camp.

Even as Count Lugar's knights ford up and a ssenger ca running to request a eting, not one of them moved a single step from where they stood.

Atop the hill, the dwarf Basim raised his voice.

"That's supposed to be showing courtesy? Looks more like a signal to start fighting."

"……Basim."

"What, what! What's wrong with what I said! I'd rather flip the whole board over than sit here watching them pull this nonsense."

At the blunt remark, Volga unexpectedly chid in.

"I don't like it either. Should we just steamroll them?"

A few broke into brief laughter, but a voice cut through the gap.

"That is also one of the options."

In that instant, Calix's gaze turned toward one person.

It was Adrian Deconti.

He was not smiling at all. Instead, with eyes more serious than anyone else's, he looked down at the enemy camp. At this, Royce quietly asked in return.

"You're serious. Why?"

Adrian paused for a mont, then answered calmly.

"The mont we open a table for negotiation, we are acknowledging Count Lugar as an equal. It would be better to simply cut off the head, as it were, and absorb the rest."

At the blunt assertion, a subtle look of bewildernt crossed the faces of so of the veterans. But in the end, not a single one moved to interrupt him.

They had sensed that he was not speaking rely as a new recruit, but as a Prince of Latia offering counsel.

Adrian then stepped forward.

"High-ranking nobles assign aning to every single action. Rather than responding ambiguously, force them to reach an agreent among themselves and send a representative."

At that, Zahira quietly asked in return.

"Isn't that precisely why Master Imran Akran was summoned? Once a representative figure arrives, you can conduct the final negotiation with him. Is there a reason not to et before then?"

He nodded in agreent, yet the words that followed were the opposite.

"That is precisely the problem."

"……?"

"Negotiations take place when both sides stand in similar positions. But we are the Mountain Rabbits. The fate of the Niboria Empire rests in our hands."

Everyone fell silent and looked at Adrian's face. This was clearly not the rcenary way. And for that very reason, it was worth listening to.

Volga glanced briefly at Calix's face, then looked away.

'As I thought — he's not surprised. Well, of course not.'

The two might not have coordinated their thoughts in advance, but it was certain they understood one another deeply.

'……Damn.'

It was a realm of talent beyond his reach.

Regardless, Adrian Deconti extended his left arm and continued.

"Everyone — we are in the position to make demands. If they want sothing, it is not we but they who must co to us. If they wish to open a table for dialogue, then Lugar, Ashapel, and Akron — those three must first align among themselves and send a representative. That is the proper way."

Before the words had even finished, Basim muttered to himself almost absently.

"Mm-mm, we've got nothing to lose at all. That's completely right."

One by one, heads began to nod — but then Volga added with a suddenly unsettled expression.

"But — if the capital suddenly falls while we're waiting, what then?"

Adrian answered as if he had been expecting the question.

"You needn't worry about that. They'll hold out until a result cos."

It was a resolute tone, carrying absolute certainty. Elves, dwarves, and mid-ranking rcenaries all showed expressions of puzzlent, but the veterans let it go without concern. He was a man of a different sort from Calix — yet possessed of an equally distinctive ability.

The eting wrapped up quickly.

The conclusion was clear.

'The Mountain Rabbits will refuse all proposals until the other party sends forward a representative.'

In that mont, even through the heavy air, an inexplicable confidence filled the surroundings. As ever, they were the ones laying out the board.

"Right. So we wait until a representative from all three factions arrives, or until Imran Akran gets here? Then what are we supposed to do until then?"

Hadiya scratched the back of her neck and grinned. It was her characteristic way of breaking tense atmospheres. But the instant she t Adrian's eyes, she realized it wasn't over yet.

"We need to sort things out internally."

"Internally?"

"I'm talking about the Silver Shield Legion. The traitors pledging loyalty to the empire."

A sudden stillness fell. Beyond heavy — a cold air drifted about as though the entire hill had frozen solid.

Legion Commander Erdmann Falter t the gaze with a stiffened face. Adrian Deconti's voice rang out more clearly than ever.

"I will not apologize for the bluntness. Because, as you can see, you stand in a paradoxical position. I respect the decision to defend the empire in the emperor's stead — but we cannot go on moving divided indefinitely."

"……Would dropping to my knee be enough?"

The veteran commander furrowed his brow and asked; Adrian shook his head imdiately. His tone was plain, and the demand that followed was very short.

"Swear an oath."

"An oath?"

"We need a promise that you will go to the end alongside the Mountain Rabbits. You are n who know honor — I trust you will not go back on your word."

From Erdmann's position, being outright insulted would have been the easier thing to bear. He moved his lips several tis, then finally closed his mouth.

Gazes converged.

His lips trembled finely once more. Not only the Mountain Rabbits — the old soldiers bearing their shields were silently watching his back. The breath of his comrades-in-arms settled heavily upon his shoulders.

In the next question, the feeling that a decision could no longer be postponed ca through plainly.

"……And if I refuse?"

The answer was Calix's to give.

He stepped silently forward and stood face to face with Erdmann Falter. He knew of their ties to Gregor — but he drew a clear line.

"Leave."

Amid a small ripple of murmurs, Calix continued evenly.

"As things stand, you may yet advance to the front line once more — but we cannot walk together. It would be right for each of us to go our own way from here."

No reproach. No pleading. No pressure. In the manner of a leader, he had made his choice, shouldering the responsibility. Fortunately — it was slightly late, but the mont had not been missed.

The veteran of a hundred battles fell into deep silence, and at the end of it, gave a small nod.

"……I swear. I — the Silver Shield Legion — will stand with you."

Only then did the tension snap loose.

Calix exchanged a nod with Erdmann Falter, Gregor wagged an invisible tail with quiet pleasure, and the priestess Ella and Isabela breathed a soft, asured sigh.

A subtle wave of relief spread through the rcenaries. To part ways now, after having experienced firsthand the rock-solid steadiness of the Silver Shield Legion — that was no longer sothing any of them wished for.

Yet in that fleeting instant, Captain Royce was gazing quietly at one man.

'I had forgotten about Adrian Deconti. He is soone who can serve as a counterbalance.'

Anew, he felt the presence of the prince who had been standing in the shadows.

A man who could fill what the Mountain Rabbits lacked. He had made his abilities plainly visible — and he was ready to prove them further.

* * *

Even as the forces of Niboria's high nobility converged in one place, the Mountain Rabbits' camp maintained a calm atmosphere.

With the Silver Shield Legion formally joining the Mountain Rabbits, and stepping back one pace in the clash of wills, it had ended in a conclusion good for all involved.

Except for one person.

Volga alone could not bring himself to laugh even in jest.

"Damn, damn, damn, daaaamn!!"

He swung his iron cudgel, and a hay bale ten-odd paces away was dented deep. Wind's Scar, too, was now nearing completion — yet across his sturdy jaw, nothing but dissatisfaction was written.

In his mind, the display of power Adrian Deconti had shown in the early hours of that sa day kept replaying.

Whoooosh!

Falling Fire. The swordsman who had lost one arm was drawing close to the martial might of his past. Without losing the center of his body, he had summoned a wave of flas through the Latian mariti sword style.

"It's been a while since my eyes were treated to sothing like this."

Even Basim the dwarf had been impressed — what more needed to be said.

Volga tore at his hair beside the hay bale.

Adrian Deconti.

That guy was the problem.

'……Swordsmanship is out of the question. Then what else?'

No matter how he thought about it, there was nothing he surpassed him in. Right there at the campfire — Royce, Adrian, and Calix were actively exchanging ideas.

"Calix, doing good isn't always right. Even more so when the other party is nobility. These are the kinds of people who'd use even the Mountain Rabbits rescuing displaced people as a weakness to exploit. And first impressions…… they last a long ti. Trust . I was branded a good-for-nothing prince early enough to know."

Even the Mountain Rabbits' captain lent his ear to the man's words. Of course, he didn't accept every opinion.

"It would be better to send Hadiya to gather intelligence in the capital."

"The capital should be fine. Emperor Caracal is not the sort to fold that easily."

"Still, we need to confirm it."

"……Fair enough."

Even so, the cold reality could not be denied. The Mountain Rabbits' command had gained a new strategist.

'That's not a new recruit — that's a rival. A vicious royal bastard coming for my place.'

Volga desperately tried to steady himself. He could lose his pride, but he must not let his self-worth shatter.

"At least, raising the banner on the battlefield is always my job, isn't it?"

"Strictly speaking, that's the horse doing the hard work."

"……S-still, once I reach Falling Fire—"

"Quit your nonsense and go back to spewing oil out of your mouth like the old days. Not everything works out just by wanting it."

"……"

He shattered.

At the hands of none other than the one who called himself a master — into pieces, fragnts, crumbling dust.

Naturally, nothing but emptiness showed on Volga's face. Strength and technique, application of mana, leadership qualities, and even his capacity for strategic thinking. Adrian — that man had not a single shortcoming.

"Am I of no use at all?"

The hulking young man crouched on the ground, murmuring to himself. He received much, yet had nothing particularly special to offer in return. A serious flaw had ford in what was called 'friendship'.

'Sothing I do better than others. Sothing I can do better than anyone. What is that?'

Just then, Basim happened to pass nearby and dropped a word in passing.

"Supplies are really a problem……"

The answer was in sniffing out money.

***

Volga summoned the war rchants on the spot.

Those who had latched on since Star Haven, those from southern Niboria, and those from the northwest who had followed the imperial nobles — he gathered them all into the Mountain Rabbits' encampnt.

"I'd like to purchase additional supplies, including food and weapons — is that possible?"

The rchants showed reluctance.

How vast a quantity of supplies does an army consu?

The Mountain Rabbits alone numbered more than sixteen thousand. Add to that the forces of Ashapel and the other high nobles, and nearly sixty thousand n had gathered in one place. Even by pooling resources from every direction, there was not enough to go around — let alone any surplus to be found.

Thereupon, the head of a rchant house of noble collateral lineage stepped forward as a representative.

"Volga, sir, we are already bound to you by contract. Blankets, boots, and the like we can manage to source sohow — but essential supplies, no matter what price you na, are simply beyond our ability to procure."

A textbook answer — but what they did not know was this: Volga's two eyes and his tongue had each begun spinning in entirely different directions.

"How do you receive paynt?"

"Well…… by bill or promissory note."

"If you lose the war, it becos a scrap of paper. Who you're dealing with is what matters. Let's see…… is Count Lugar's bill trading at the highest value? The west would be the safest, wouldn't it."

"……Yes. It is comparable to Ashapel's. The imperial house and Duke Akron's notes are the cheapest."

His mind was turning faster than it had in a long ti. It was a sowhat familiar picture. The days of fretting over the Elvra Holy Empire's promissory notes briefly crossed his mind.

Then what was to be done now?

He swings wide.

"He is Ashapel."

"What do you an……"

Volga added no explanation whatsoever.

In truth, he himself had not realized what he was saying. He simply felt the flow of the mont was not bad, and so he diligently poured oil upon a small fla.

Instead, it was the sharp-eyed rchants whose faces drained white.

"Does that an…… by chance, the rights to this land?"

"I cannot understand. If not him, then who else could possibly hold that claim?"

"……T-to be sure. Though many have gathered, the only one with legitimate claim is Ashapel."

"Mm-mm, precisely so."

Yes — he truly had not known.

That he had spoken of the throne by implication. Where he stood within the Mountain Rabbits. And how the rchants would receive his words.

'Ashapel intends to call Caracal to account for past grievances!'

From that day forward, all supplies flowed to one place.