Chapter 11
#11
Every time I talked to Walter, I felt like we were of the same race but communicating in different languages.
Are geniuses just different in the way they think?
Even though I haven't experienced him many times, in every meeting, he always bewildered Lucy with his nonsensical words.
It's the same now. I have no idea why or how he likes that I'm working as a refugee broker.
If that's the reason I should become king, I understand even less.
"I don't understand what you're saying at all."
"Your Highness left the human kingdom and is helping the Lykans in the city of Lafi."
Walter said in a soft tone, adding a strong word as if branding it.
"I think that's why I'm drawn to you."
I understand even less.
Is he impressed by the sight of me helping other races?
He's always been the type to treat people without discrimination, so maybe. But it doesn't seem like that's the only reason.
Lucy, who had been twitching her lips, cleared her thoughts with a small sigh. From the start, ordinary people can't understand geniuses. Even if I don't know what it is, if he likes me, isn't that enough?
Yeah, that's enough.
Anyway, I've been wanting to become king for a long time. Even if I try to kill time hoping that my desire for revenge will fade, the resentment to kill that crown prince bastard never dies like embers, and it's burning my emotions even at this moment.
If I'm going to die someday, at least, this time I should kick that bastard at least once before I die.
There's no need to refuse a prepared meal.
It's a sword I was going to get anyway. Walter said he would make me king first, so I'll gladly ride on his wings.
"If you're going to put me forward as king, General, you're going to have a hard time."
"If Your Highness is prepared, I'm fine."
"Are you really confident you won't regret it?"
"Yes."
"Hmm."
Long shadows fell behind the two people sitting side by side. Lucy, who was looking at the rising sun, took a long sip of the cold tea and let out a light breath.
"Then, well, shall we give it a try?"
Walter nodded almost imperceptibly at Lucy's answer.
The air heated by the sunlight drove away the cold and sent a soft breeze. The smell of burning wood was faintly felt in the wind, as if the shepherds were lighting a fire to boil tea.
The two people, who had been exchanging important matters casually, realized that their interests intersected and calmly enjoyed the leisure. It was a compromise so rapid that anyone who saw it would find it absurd.
Walter, who was looking at the flock of sheep with a calm face, let out a deflated breath and opened his mouth first.
"You must have been surprised by my sudden proposal... but don't worry too much. It's very embarrassing to say it myself, but I pride myself on being a pretty useful soldier."
Looking at him, wondering what he was talking about, Walter turned his gaze away and smiled faintly.
"I've always been training with loyalty in mind, but I never expected that the object of my loyalty would disappear like this. Maybe the reason I rushed to Your Highness like this is also based on the psychology of wanting to quickly find a replacement. For now... but."
Wiping his lower lip with his thumb, Walter continued with a hum.
"I hope you don't regard my loyalty as a momentary whim. I saw the qualities of a wise ruler in Your Highness. To prove it, I will risk my life to serve you."
Lucy got up from her seat. After putting down the teacup and crossing her arms, she seemed to be contemplating for a moment, then approached Walter and looked down at him.
Lucy, who was staring at him as if examining something, grinned like a boy. Then, she slowly reached out and held out her hand in front of him.
"I don't know the details, but, well. Good. Don't ever forget those words and protect me. You're the only one I can trust right now."
"...Your Highness."
"And I will also try to become the monarch you desire. I look forward to working with you, Walter."
The sunlight opening a new morning shone strongly on the hand requesting a handshake.
⚜ ⚜ ⚜
Parnassus has the most diverse climate changes among the three countries.
Dopein, located in the south, always has a hot and dry climate, while Antevassila, which occupies a long land based on the eastern coast, shows a clear climate difference between the north and the south.
But Parnassus can feel distinct four seasons throughout the country. In particular, the northwest boasts beautiful scenery due to the autumn foliage that colors the entire land every year.
Duke Kill, who was admiring the colorful leaves, exhaled and raised his gaze a little higher.
Beyond the car window, the blue sky was announcing the arrival of autumn.
"Your Excellency, you don't seem to be in good spirits."
The attendant sitting across from him spoke with a puzzled face. Kill smiled faintly and crossed his arms.
"I'm worried about today's meeting. I had a restless night yesterday, so I have a bad feeling."
"Anyway, there's no one more suitable for the throne than Your Excellency. I don't think you have to worry...."
A month or so has passed since the last meeting.
The lords are still busy baring their teeth at each other, and the general, who opposed the enthronement of the new king, is running around in the north and west, without offering any alternatives.
While watching the situation, other lords also said that they could no longer tolerate the absence of the king. Rumors that the royal palace had been devastated were slowly spreading to the royal capital, and the two countries that had been in check were also trying to confirm the truth of the rumors by sending envoys under the pretext of praying for the king's recovery.
Further postponement was impossible.
Now it was time to decide on a king.
Among the lords, the people with enough influence to challenge the throne were Duke Kill, the elder of the elders, Marquis Rutherford, the main force of the emerging forces, and Duke Whitten, who had maintained a deep relationship with the royal family.
Of course, the most likely candidate for the next throne was, without a doubt, Duke Kill.
Kill has led countless reforms with his broad insight and quick execution. He not only prospered his duchy but also opened trade routes and revived the stagnant royal capital.
Unlike other nobles who were busy protecting only their own territories, Kill has lived a life of devotion to Parnassus. If not him, who else could be king? Therefore, the attendant thought that his master would easily be handed over the throne.
But Kill silently shook his head.
"I still haven't found out what the general's intentions are. If he doesn't change his mind and continues to insist... it will be difficult even for me."
"Does the general's intentions matter now? Even if his opinion is different, he won't have time to interfere in internal affairs because he's busy with other things."
"Hmm... the borders have been uneasy lately."
The attendant nodded with a brighter face.
"Dopein and Antevassila are on the verge of war. If a war breaks out, Parnassus will also be affected, but we can divert the general's attention until internal affairs are stabilized."
"Hmm."
"Even if something happens, the general will take care of it. He's an undefeated general anyway."
Kill recalled Walter and gave a vague smile.
"That's right. We can wait for him to make achievements while repairing the royal capital. It wouldn't be bad to create a new era name at the ceremony to praise the general."
Perhaps war could be helpful in the current situation.
Watching a fire is the best thing in the world, and if Dopein and Antevassila declare a full-scale war, the people of the kingdom will focus on the war between neighboring countries rather than the chaos of the royal capital.
Even if that's not the case, the general can't move recklessly in a state of high tension between the three countries.
The sudden death of the king was only painful and surprising when faced with it, but now it may be a stroke of luck given at the right time for a generational change.
"Whatever it is, it's not bad. No... it's not bad."
Repeating to himself, Kill touched his forehead.
It was a plausible plan, and no matter how he thought about it, there were no particularly obstructive factors. But the anxiety that had been pushed aside in one corner of his mind slowly crept up and made the back of his neck feel cold.
The sound of horse hooves gradually decreased, and the carriage stopped with the coachman's shout as a signal. While he was worrying, he had already arrived at the Central Command.
"Today will be Your Excellency's day."
The attendant smiled and put an end to his hesitation. After taking a moment to catch his breath, Kill straightened his back and repeated his composure.
"That's right. Let's go."
Kill was a mature old man who could naturally exude etiquette and dignity suitable for the situation as if breathing.
Quickly shaking off the remaining anxiety, Kill stepped into the headquarters with a confident attitude as always.
Passing through the barracks and entering the command headquarters, the soldiers who recognized him bowed politely. In the wide corridor, the retainers of the lords who had arrived earlier were gathered, whispering about the predictions for today's meeting.
The most frequently mentioned name in the small whispers that could be heard was, of course, Godel Kill, his name.
"The protagonist has arrived."
As soon as he entered the conference room, Duke Whitten greeted him with a generous smile. Unlike him, who was welcoming, Rutherford, who was sitting across from him, covered his mouth with a fan and glared at him with sharp eyes.
"It should be the meeting you've been looking forward to, but you don't look so good. Did something happen last night?"
"Well. I guess I was too excited to sleep. Thank you for your concern, but I hope you will focus on the meeting today."
Skillfully parrying the sharp question, Kill sat down. As a signal to him, the murmuring that had been roaming the conference room disappeared in an instant.
In a serious atmosphere, searching gazes quickly went back and forth.
In an atmosphere where no one could easily open their mouths, the old man, who was the center of the current meeting, slowly turned his head and looked around the conference room.
Kill, who was looking around the chairman with a slow gaze, frowned slightly when he saw an empty seat at the end of the right side.
"I asked him so much to attend."
Walter Heiberg, the seat where the general should be seated, was empty.
I know he's busy, but to be absent from such an important meeting.
Kill, who was expressing his displeasure with his whole body, calmed his emotions with a small breath.
There's no need to be upset.
It's better that way. It's better not to be there at all than to come and list objections.
If it's a decision made by a majority vote in a place where all the lords are gathered, even the general won't be able to easily argue about right and wrong.
Kill, who had calmed his breath, raised his head again. He exchanged glances with the lords with a solemn face, choosing and choosing the sentences he had to list.
"It seems like everyone has arrived, so let's start the meeting."
The warm autumn sun fell around the conference room, and teacups were placed on the table one by one.
A silence flowed enough to melt each other's solidified beliefs, and soon Kill slowly rose from his seat. Just as the opening remarks were about to flow out from between his tightly closed lips.
"I'm sorry I'm late."
The door opened, and Walter, dressed in formal attire, entered the conference room with an unknown woman.
