10 (4)

Batenberg Blancfor’s eyebrows twisted. To call him the Incarnation of War was to liken him to Mars, the god of war, and it made his blood boil.

“What… wh-what? They dare to attach a title of that level to a brat like him? That is too much!”

“Please calm your anger. That nickname was not one this humble one gave him.”

“Then who did? It must surely be something he himself babbled about.”

“No. It was the soldiers who lost to Duke Louis who went around shouting it. They said his command on the battlefield was like an attack launched by a god. I merely picked it up from Marquis Gangpireu’s soldiers when they were dead drunk.”

“Ghh…”

The fact that enemy soldiers had gone around bragging like that meant Louis had shown overwhelming skill that could not be denied. Blancfor felt a deep sense of inferiority toward Louis, who was a little younger than he was. Until now, Blancfor, born into House Batenberg, had never once experienced what people called “setback.” That did not mean he had lived inside a safety net.

His father, Batenberg Maximilian, had treated him roughly. There had even been a time when he had thrown him out as a pauper to a foreign land and told him to try his hand at trade. Of course, it was not as if he had left him without guards—he could not risk his son losing his life in a dangerous world—but he had strictly limited the money he gave him, beating harshly into his sons the realities of the world.

In some ways, their house was similar to Louis’s House Pontina, and in some ways it was not. House Batenberg’s doctrine was that arms could be bought with money, so the lord himself did not need martial skill. In other words, they knew money well, but they were a clan that had little interest in war or the sword.

However, the children of Marquis Batenberg Maximilian were not like that. Once a person had plenty of everything, it was only natural to desire something more. And that “something” was exactly what Louis had.

‘How vexing.’

For the first time, Blancfor felt deep jealousy toward someone. First, it was Louis’s age. Second, it was the opportunity and ability to display such tremendous skill that he earned the nickname Incarnation of War, the proof of that, and the popularity that followed. These were things that could not be bought with money.

No matter how much money they had, there were plenty of people who judged House Batenberg as a pigsty lacking in honor. Of course, they captured such people and tore out their tongues so they could never utter such words again, but in the end, that only soothed their feelings for a brief moment. It could not change the thoughts that were buried deep in people’s minds.

“Blancfor, what do you think you are doing there? Letting a peddler inside? Get out of here at once before I have your head cut off, you lowborn cur.”

The one who shouted at the peddler in a rage was Batenberg Mesond, Blancfor’s older brother. The very reason Blancfor envied him from the bottom of his heart now appeared before his eyes: fratricide. As befitted a young man, Blancfor’s ambition was enormous. He had absolutely no intention of being satisfied with just this one city for the rest of his life.

“I am sorry. I am sorry. Please forgive me just this once. This humble one will take his leave now.”

“No, Brother. I invited this man here because I personally found him interesting. By what right do you drive away someone I have brought?”

“Then for what reason did you bring a lowborn creature all the way in here? Use that mouth of yours and speak. I see you have bought foreign women again. Tsk, tsk. Are you planning to buy women from this fellow as well?”

“I heard rumors about the man called Pontina Louis from him. Brother, have you heard that name before? Of course you have not. I am probably the first. Louis is going to become an important figure for us from here on out. If you wish, I can tell you who this man is, but you do not look like you care to hear it, so why don’t you instead tell us the business that brought you all this way.”

Just moments ago, Blancfor had been cursing Louis, but now he used Pontina Louis’s newfound fame to mock his second brother, Mesond.

“I have no desire to hear about some person you know! In any case, I suppose I must save you from wasting your time listening to strange tales from a peddler. Come along at once. Father is calling you.”

“……..”

It was very rare for their father, Batenberg Maximilian, to summon his children to one place. That was because there was not a single person in this household who simply idled about. Maximilian divided a wide variety of tasks among his children and had them manage them.

Even Blancfor, who looked as if he were just loafing around, had in fact finished all the work he was supposed to do and was simply enjoying his leisure. At any rate, the fact that their father had summoned both his older brother and himself at the same time meant it was an important matter, so Blancfor followed his brother Mesond without protest.

As the two of them walked toward the office where Maximilian was seated, they ran into a woman at a crossing. It was their younger sister, Batenberg Linsia. With her pale face, curved eyes, and rich red hair that seemed to have just been styled and flared out around her, she was a beauty who would make any man stare at least once.

“What brings the two of you walking side by side like this?”

“Linsia. You have become very pretty.”

“Brother Mesond, it seems you have finished your trade well.”

With her joining in the middle, the three of them pushed open a large, solid wooden door and went in to see their father. The man inside, busy moving his fingers as he gave orders, was Marquis Maximilian, ruler of the greatest commercial city Beiherobo and head of House Batenberg. Because of his chronic illness, he kept coughing, and he was considerably older than his sons and daughter.

And that was also the reason Maximilian had summoned his children.

“You called for us.”

“Yes. Did you finish your work well?”

“Yes, I will report to you separately.”

After a brief exchange with Mesond, Maximilian looked over his children. Then he clicked his tongue inwardly.

‘Remitri, my friend, in this at least you have beaten me.’

“The reason I called you is simple. The Prince-King intends to hold a splendid party in the capital. He needs participants to attend it.”

At the word “party,” Linsia’s ears pricked up at once, and she asked Maximilian a question. She had been restless because she had not been able to go to the capital.

“A party? What party is it? The Prince-King’s birthday has not come yet.”

At length, Maximilian cast a weighty, meaningful look at his sons and opened his mouth.

“Pontina Louis.”

As soon as Mesond heard the name, he thought of his younger brother, who had just been spraying spit as he told him an amusing story he had heard from the peddler. Blancfor, on the other hand, felt even more conflicted. In other words, his sense of inferiority flared up again.

No matter how lacking the Prince-King might be in power, he was still a king in name. The very idea that such a Prince-King Orpendius would hold a grand party for Pontina Louis as if welcoming a hero pricked at Blancfor’s emotions.

‘Hmph. Infuriating. While I am here trading words with lowborns in a place like this, that guy is killing his own brothers and making a name for himself.’

Linsia’s eyes, meanwhile, went wide. She might not know Pontina Louis, but there was no noble who did not know House Pontina. Moreover, she herself knew Pontina Fred by face. She clearly remembered just how attractive a man he had been. More than that, the news itself was somewhat shocking to her. This quick-witted woman put together the words “Pontina Louis” and “splendid party” and immediately realized that the party was being held for the conferment of a ducal title.

That meant a succession war had taken place, and in that precarious, unstable house, the final victor had been a man named Louis. Knowing that Fred had either died or suffered something equivalent, she felt a little depressed, but that only made her all the more curious about this Pontina Louis.

“It seems none of you know about the Pontina Louis Father mentioned. Allow me to explain.”

The one who jumped forward, sensing an opportunity, was Blancfor. Teasing his family a little and showing off in front of his father, he explained to them what he had heard from the peddler. Hearing his story, Mesond’s and Linsia’s eyes grew even rounder. When the explanation ended, Mesond immediately asked again.

“Is that really true? That he killed Marquis Haidek Gangpireu? Marquis Gangpireu is not as foolish a man as you think.”

The answer came from the front; it was their father, Maximilian, who spoke.

“Indeed. An old snake was bitten to death by a young lion.”