101 — 11 (2)

His tall, striking frame and the luxurious clothes draped over him suited his debauched playboy image perfectly. On top of that, the lovers at his sides had followed him all the way here. They fluttered around Blancfor and poured him drinks from both sides, but his mind was elsewhere—on Pontina Louis.

‘So what kind of bastard is he, really?’

Like the sons of other great houses, Batenberg Blancfor also lived beneath the overwhelming presence of his father. Batenberg Maximilian carried the title “Mage of the Bridgehead,” earned through his extraordinary prowess. His aggressive business acumen was famous even abroad. There were even rumors that if Maximilian began cooperating with the Prince-King in earnest, a new wind might blow through the Duchy of Eron.

Blancfor could personally feel those rumors were not empty. His father Maximilian was so suspicious and eccentric that he did not even properly disclose his wealth to his own children. Yet that same father was showing abnormal interest—enough to dispatch two of his children to celebrate Pontina Louis’s succession.

Blancfor could not understand it, but since it had happened, he actively appealed to Maximilian and secured a place in this trip.

In a way, he pretended to acknowledge Louis just to draw his father’s attention.

Batenberg Linsia was still choosing outfits below deck. One entire floor served as Linsia’s wardrobe. She changed clothes again and again, while the most skilled tailor in Beiherobo recommended one dress after another before her. For the tailor, this itself was a once-in-a-lifetime business opportunity.

In response to his “How is this?” Linsia shook her head. Even after more than ten tries, the tailor looked unwearied, smiling broadly as he clapped his hands a few times. The woman standing before Linsia stepped back inside, and another woman walked out wearing a different dress.

“This one is a candidate.”

“At last, our first candidate. May I ask who Lady Linsia is trying to seduce with such preparation?”

“Hm. Obviously, the host of the party we’re going to.”

“Ah, you mean the lion who’s been making a name for himself lately. Indeed—these days, if a merchant doesn’t know his name, he can’t do business. Ha-ha.”

Linsia pursed her alluring lips and spoke.

“Why do they call that man a lion? My father said it too—a young lion.”

The tailor let out a short laugh and answered Linsia.

“When men are young, they learn the founding history of the Duchy of Eron. The one who left legendary achievements then was the first Duke Pontina Valpur. So many years have passed, and House Pontina’s power has shrunk so much that many people don’t even realize it’s the same house—but they say Duke Louis’s generalship is comparable to Duke Valpur’s. Watching a fire is always entertaining for those who merely observe. In any case, people call Duke Louis a lion because they place him on an equal line with Duke Valpur. I’ve never seen him myself, so I’m very excited to be heading to the capital now. It’s selfish of me, but if Lady Linsia wears clothing I made and can move Duke Louis’s heart, it would be an honor beyond anything I could wish for.”

After listening to the tailor’s long explanation without missing a breath, Linsia calmed the pointless pounding in her chest.

“Hmph. Of course. There’s never been a man who didn’t want me.”

The Batenberg family’s private ship—built solely for transport—cut forward in overwhelming majesty. The surrounding merchant ships cleared the way the moment they saw the Batenberg crest, and some even climbed up to their sterns, gawking and drooling as they stared at the Batenberg vessel. Even if they couldn’t board, they wanted to feast their eyes. As the ship neared its destination, vessels grew noticeably more numerous. A towering castle, perched on high ground, came into Blancfor’s view.

Prince-King Gridio Orpendius was extremely busy. It could not be helped—the celebration party for Pontina Louis’s ducal succession had grown far larger than expected. He had indeed harbored ulterior motives, but for Orpendius—surrounded by watchful eyes and constant checks—he needed an official pretext within the castle’s circumstances. That pretext was Louis’s succession celebration.

The problem was not whether Louis would attend the party or not. It was that all seven houses—each with power hostile to the Prince-King—wanted to attend the ducal succession celebration. It might have been unknown how long it had been since the core heirs of the seven houses gathered in the capital, but anyone with a little sense could tell it was not something to celebrate unconditionally.

It meant houses that wanted an alliance with Louis might take him away. In a sense, the full picture still had not been revealed. Only rumors and information were arriving: that the god of war had blessed him, that he possessed generalship worthy of comparison to Duke Valpur, and so on—titles and rumors difficult to earn at such a young age. But rumors could be nothing more than rumors. The man himself might be unimpressive. Pontina Louis might hold vast territory, but he had only just finished a war, and it was true that things were creaking in many ways.

That was why Prince-King Orpendius had predicted that at most three houses would respond to this party. But now all seven houses were gathering. There was suddenly much more to manage. Since it had come to this, setting the party’s scale to the maximum and trying to create a new current might not be a bad idea.

Alliance and betrayal were two sides of the same coin, so Orpendius did not know how the flow would shift after this party—but he wanted to lead it as much as possible. Thus, Louis’s succession combined with political aims and swelled into a scale even larger than Louis had imagined.

The soldiers guarding the main gate of the capital, Lebledna, were more numerous than usual. Part of it was the Prince-King’s showy deployment, but an even bigger reason was that the soldiers themselves had gathered voluntarily. The cause of this concentration of manpower was simple curiosity. They were intensely curious how many houses would answer the Prince-King’s invitation—and who would come. The Prince-King knew all seven houses would attend, but information like that would not trickle down to the lower ranks.

In any case, the first to arrive by waterway was House Batenberg. That meant six houses remained.

“Duke Louis must be something, huh? For things to be this noisy from all directions.”

“If the rumors are true, he’s definitely remarkable. My friend once ended up mixed into a procession by accident and saw Duke Louis—he said it was incredible. Maybe it really is because he’s Pontina.”

A soldier climbed up onto the wall and cut into their conversation.

“New info.”

“What is it?”

“I saw it inside. Two from House Batenberg came. Batenberg Blancfor and Batenberg Linsia went in together.”

“Lady Linsia came? You saw that beauty?”

“Yeah. She wore a red dress that suited her red hair—I couldn’t take my eyes off her. The rumors weren’t lies. They said she’s one of the top beauties in Beiherobo.”

“Damn it, you lucky bastard. I should’ve been on patrol.”

“Why? Nobody else arrived yet?”

“Yeah. Not a single house has arrived yet. All I can see are those damned merchant convoys… huh?”

“They’re here.”

Not only them—every soldier on the wall began murmuring. A fairly long procession followed behind a high-raised house banner. And that wasn’t all. As if they had met somewhere and decided to compete, two more houses arrived in quick succession. The first was House Deralober. After that came House Orsini.

Finally, House Kraudius followed behind. Several horses thundered forward and shoved every merchant convoy aside. They saluted as the houses entered one after another—and not only the merchants, but the soldiers on the wall did the same.

It was the first time three houses had arrived at once, enough to make the soldiers’ and merchants’ eyes widen. Each house wielded authority in its region on par with the Prince-King, so their presence was immense. They differed only in coming by land rather than by sea, yet their spectacle was no less splendid. As if competing in power, the troops and martial retainers escorting them were mostly famous and high-ranking nobles.

And those people were now pouring into the capital without end in sight. Their wagons carried gifts—jewels of every kind, and beautiful, sturdy slaves—different for each house. The scale of wealth was such that even one box would earn an ordinary citizen the label of “rich.” Just watching was enough to make one’s jaw slack. Since these gifts would not all go to the Prince-King, the soldiers who watched them immediately thought of Louis.

“This is insane. Some of that is definitely going to Duke Louis. I’ve never seen a spectacle this majestic in my life.”

“Heh. Not some—most of it will go to Duke Louis, don’t you think? Even kids know these houses and our Prince-King are rivals.”

“Ha… if I could have even a handful of that…”

“Wake up. And we can say that because we’re us—be careful not to let the houses’ retainers hear. You could lose your head. Look at those warriors’ faces.”

“Hey, hey. Look over there. Those slaves. Heh. Are they from Aiwood? They’re on another level.”

“Duke Louis’s nights will be busy… heh-heh.”

“Still, it’s already four houses. And it’s not even noon. Feels like it’s been seven years since four houses gathered in the capital.”

“If it’s already four, then even if the rest come one by one, we’ll be breaking records.”

“Please let Duke Louis pass through here today.”

“You off tomorrow?”

“Damn it. I begged to stand consecutive shifts, but the captain asked for money.”

“You don’t even have that?”

“When I went gambling with you last time.”

“Tsk.”

“Since it came up, can’t you lend me just once?”

The soldier on the far right—who had kept silent—nudged them and said:

“Another one is coming.”

At the tail of the long procession, another tail latched on. The attendance rate was bizarrely high. Usually, if one or two houses participated, that was already a lot—and their arrival dates were irregular; they never came in sync like this. Not only the soldiers—the houses themselves were surely flustered too. Already, curses were flying more than once, and the atmosphere below grew tense enough to feel like blades might be drawn.

There were allied houses, but that did not mean their underlings were kind. They were arguing over who would enter first. In any case, the newly attached banner at the very rear was House Parse.

Now, curiosity about Pontina Louis—who had created this staggering spectacle—was growing beyond reason, turning almost mad.

At that time, Louis’s departure had been delayed because he was pressuring the existing nobles to stabilize Pontina City. On Louis’s status window, the eleven cities were steadily normalizing. The old veteran Gaion was performing better than Louis had expected. Of the four newly acquired cities, two had already shed the special effect of being in a “resistance state,” and business operations were running again. In particular, the leather industry had been the backbone of House Haidek, so Louis also held very high expectations for the profit that would come from it.