Chapter 79: Townsman A Observes the Negotiations in the Royal Capital (Part 2)

“Unacceptable! I don’t care how much an adventurer of the Royal Family has achieved; I will not permit it. He shall be granted the rank of Knight. That is my final decision. Do I make myself clear?”

Even the man standing beside the King—likely his advisor—let out a faint, startled gasp at the decree.

“I see,” Lord Ramslett replied, his voice level. “So, Your Majesty is suggesting that the achievements of Allen, an adventurer of House Ramslett, are worth only the rank of Knight? This is a man who recaptured the Bulzeni Region from the Est Empire—a feat no one has managed in fifty years. Is that truly what you are saying?”

He had a point. Looking back at history, those who performed great deeds in war were typically appointed as Barons or Viscounts. According to custom, the standard for retaking a single region or a major city was the rank of Viscount.

The recapture of the Bulzeni Region was, without a doubt, a far greater military achievement than that.

The advisor whispered something into the King’s ear.

“Hmph. Fine, let him be a Baron. We will settle the matter of territory later. Is that satisfactory?”

“No, no. That is quite out of the question,” the Duke countered. “We are talking about the recapture of Bulzeni, after all. That is precisely why I am requesting the rank of Count. Besides, Your Majesty, did you not promise Allen that if he scattered the Imperial soldiers and brought victory to Centralen, his reward would be whatever he desired? Gold, treasures, rank, women—you said he could have anything.”

“The Kingdom has not yet defeated the Est Empire! The war is still ongoing!”

“And yet, Your Majesty, you personally stated that you would consider the recapture of Bulzeni as victory. You even issued a formal written order to that effect, did you not?”

“E-Enough! Even so, there is no way I can permit the rank of Count! Such a thing is—”

Just as the King was about to explode into another shout, the advisor leaned in and whispered to him again.

“T-That’s right! It was only possible thanks to the support of my magnificent army! Besides, I don’t care how much military merit someone has; I simply cannot hand out the rank of Count!”

“Then what, precisely, would be required to earn the rank of Count?” the Duke asked. “Would taking the head of an Imperial high official suffice?”

“Hmph. I suppose. If you were to personally take the head of the Est Empire’s Emperor or the Crown Prince, I might consider it.”

Yikes. The King had just stepped right into a trap with pinpoint accuracy.

Hearing those words, Lord Ramslett flashed that dark, sinister smile of his once again.

“Is that so? By the way, I mentioned at the start that Allen’s military contributions weren't limited to the recapture of Bulzeni. You recall that, I hope?”

“What? Was there something else? I have received no such report.”

“Yes, well, the achievement was so monumental that I felt it was my duty as a vassal to inform Your Majesty of the details—and how to handle them—personally.”

“Hmph?”

With that, the Duke reached into a high-quality Magic Bag—one equipped with a preservation function—and pulled out the severed heads of Crown Prince Igor and Chief Magician Günther. He lined them up on the floor in front of the King.

“What? N-No... it can’t be!”

“You recognize these two, don’t you?”

“I-Igor... the Crown Prince? And... Chief Magician Günther?”

“Indeed,” the Duke said. “Allen, the adventurer of House Ramslett, infiltrated their lines alone and brought these back. My house maintains close contact with him. Given the recent movements on the front, we suspected the Est Empire and the Zaus Kingdom were working in tandem, so we ordered Allen to take out the core members of the Empire’s leadership. That is why he did not participate in the mopping-up operations after Bulzeni was retaken.”

“……”

Completely dismantled by the Duke’s logic, the King fell silent, biting his lip.

The Duke watched him for a moment before calling out, his expression as calm as ever.

“Your Majesty?”

“Duke... you gave me a false report, didn’t you?”

The King’s face suddenly twisted with rage as he tried to pivot the conversation.

“A false report? Whatever do you mean?”

“You claimed you were being attacked by a force of one hundred thousand, yet you repelled them with ease! No matter how elite your troops are, there is no way you could drive off an army of that size. To give me a false report and then claim the Royal Family’s adventurer as your own is an absolute outrage!”

The dark smile vanished from the Duke’s face.

“Your Majesty, that was no false report; it was the reality of the situation. I believe you have received reports from sources other than myself, have you not? My army repelled them, but only at a great cost. To hear you speak of it in such a manner... what is your intent? We have shown our loyalty and risked our lives to protect this nation, only to receive no word of thanks—and to be called liars on top of it? I, Gerhardt, am so shocked I feel I might lose my very mind.”

Then, the dark smile returned.

“But of course, I am certain a monarch as wise as Your Majesty would never truly mean such things.”

Provoked further, the King finally snapped, shouting the one thing he should never have said.

“Guh! Enough! Arrest this insolent man!”

“Wait, Your Majesty! You mustn’t!” the advisor—the Prime Minister—shouted, trying to intervene, but the King was too far gone.

“Silence, Prime Minister! Unless you want to be thrown into the dungeon as well!”

“...I apologize for my overstepping, Your Majesty.”

So that guy was the Prime Minister.

The man stood up and retreated toward the wall, effectively washing his hands of the situation. Wait, is that okay? Is he just abandoning the King? Or maybe the King really does threaten him with the dungeon so often that this is just his standard procedure?

“I see. So, negotiations have broken down. How regrettable,” the Duke said. He stood up and began walking toward the exit. “Oh, that reminds me. I trust the Crown Prince is well? I would dearly love to see him fighting bravely for his country one of these days, as befits a member of the Royal Family. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I shall take my leave.”

That last bit of sarcasm was aimed at the Crown Prince for failing to volunteer for the front, but it was a double-edged sword aimed at the King as well. Despite being surrounded by enemies, the King himself had never once stepped onto a battlefield.

Like father, like son, I suppose.

That was likely why the King had designated the boy as his successor so early—simply because he was born with the [Hero] Divine Protection—and then proceeded to spoil him rotten. A Divine Protection doesn't make the man; a person only becomes a hero by putting in the effort to live up to that power.

In the game, the Crown Prince didn't realize that until the Royal Capital had been reduced to ash and he’d lost everything. But in this world, things were different. The capital wouldn't be destroyed by a fallen Villainess, and Amy—the one who was supposed to support him—was... well, Amy.

I guess I’m partly to blame for stirring things up, but I think the Prince is past the point of being reformed.

“What are you doing?! Seize him!” the King roared at the Kingsguards.

Finally, the guards moved. It was telling that six of the ten guards stayed behind to shield the King. They knew House Ramslett had an adventurer capable of infiltrating the Imperial Capital to assassinate a prince and a chief magician. They probably realized that if they touched the Duke, that same blade would be turned toward the Centralen Royal Family next.

Honestly, any country led by a King this dense is probably doomed anyway.

“Duke Ramslett, you are being detained on suspicion of treason.”

“Move,” the Duke growled. “Unless you wish to be injured.”

The Duke attempted to intimidate them, but the Kingsguards showed no intention of backing down.

“No choice, then,” I muttered.

As four of the guards closed in to restrain the Duke, I opened fire with non-lethal rounds.

“Gah!”

“Guh!”

“What—?!”

“Urgh!”

The guards collapsed, groaning, before they could lay a finger on him.

“Lord Ramslett, this way.”

“Understood.”

I kicked off a smokescreen and led the Duke on a sprint through the palace.