The moment Visablon Grand Duke mentioned that the envoy sent by Handra Grand Duke had been sitting in the military camp for four days,
A thought flashed through Lorist's mind, and his expression darkened as he looked at Visablon Grand Duke. What was this old fox up to? The envoy sent by Handra Grand Duke should naturally have been brought before the
Visablon Grand Duke could see at a glance that Lorist had misunderstood, and he quickly stepped forward to explain in a low voice. "The envoy is someone we know. He came specifically to find me this time. He wants to find out what price they'd have to pay if they want to call a truce and make peace with His Majesty. I didn't dare negotiate on my own authority, which is why I called you back to discuss it. Also, as you know, my camp has far too many eyes and ears, so I brought the man over to your side to avoid His Majesty discovering it and getting the wrong idea..."
Well, if this wasn't dragging him into the mud, what was? And since when were they so close that even an envoy from Handra Grand Duke required his input to discuss? Still, Lorist found himself intrigued. "Someone who knows me too? Who?"
That old fox had always had all sorts of entangled relationships with the four central duchies. Back then, those duchies had even lost sixty to seventy thousand elite infantry soldiers trying to rescue him. Who would have thought that he'd turn around and defect to the Second Prince in the blink of an eye, leading two legions of his family's forces to attack the four central duchies like some ungrateful traitor? Had he forgotten how, just a few months ago, the banner of his Visablon family had been raised before the defensive lines and the garrison soldiers had cursed him black and blue? How did he still have the nerve to continue secretly colluding with those four central dukes?
That Handra Grand Duke was really something—how could he still send an envoy to that thick-skinned, shameless, treacherous old fox to negotiate peace? If it had been Lorist in that situation, he would have fought the other side to the bitter end... Lorist grumbled inwardly, but he also understood that such matters were perfectly understandable among the nobility. Everyone made these kinds of choices to preserve their families. What Visablon Grand Duke had done was simply the way things were. Today a friend, tomorrow an enemy—it was common enough among the nobles of the Galentea Continent, nothing worth remarking upon.
"The envoy is Count Churchwick. You met him at the welcome banquet when I hosted the knightly tournament back in the day. I believe you even invited him to that inn called Anna's, where you were staying, for a chat." Visablon Grand Duke glanced around and spoke in a hushed voice.
The posture was rather furtive—he looked like he was one step away from whispering directly into Lorist's ear. Lorist quickened his pace and put a bit of distance between them. "Oh, him. Did he say anything?"
"Well..." Visablon Grand Duke hesitated for a moment. "Why don't you talk to him yourself? Given my past history with them, being in the middle puts me in a rather awkward position where neither side will be pleased."
"Good, at least you're self-aware." Lorist nodded. "So where is he?"
Count Churchwick was staying in a remote corner at the very back of the main camp. A few small temporary wooden huts had been erected here—originally used by the Flying Tiger Corps for confining soldiers who had committed infractions. But with Visablon Grand Duke's request, the commander of the Pegasus Corps, Ponava, who had been left in charge of the camp, had his men tidy the place up, and it had been repurposed as guest quarters for visiting dignitaries.
Lorist said nothing. If the Flying Tiger Corps had still been stationed at the main camp, forget about Visablon Grand Duke bringing someone in—even the Grand Duke himself would have had to announce himself at the gate before being allowed entry. But now that the Flying Tiger Corps had marched off to the Demon Plains, the old man could come and go freely through this camp as though it were empty. Still, he understood Commander Ponava's position. The man was a knight of the Fielheim family and had to consider the fact that the family's territories—the Southern Province and the Eastern Wasteland Province—were directly adjacent. Even as a member of the Northland four-family alliance, one couldn't lightly offend Visablon Grand Duke. Besides, the old man was Lorist's wife's own grandfather and had been coming around frequently of late. When it came to doing favors, it was only natural to open the door wide.
When Lorist and Visablon Grand Duke stepped inside, Count Churchwick was already standing at the entrance to greet them, offering a bow to each in turn. Lorist keenly caught the flicker of surprise and delight in the Count's eyes upon seeing him arrive—perhaps the man believed that Lorist was the one who truly called the shots.
Once the three had taken their seats, Visablon Grand Duke was unexpectedly silent, seemingly unwilling to speak at all. Sure enough, after Lorist had rambled on about one thing and another for a good while, Count Churchwick could contain himself no longer and stated his purpose with striking directness. The gist was that Grand Duke Handra hoped to persuade, through Visablon Grand Duke and Lorist, or at least influence the Second Prince's intentions—put a stop to this pointless war and restore peace to the four central duchies...
Lorist turned the teacup in his hands, as if the plain silver vessel contained some fascinating secret. Only when Count Churchwick had finished speaking and was beginning to grow impatient did Lorist ask softly, "Oh? Grand Duke Handra can't hold out any longer?"
"Not at all!" Count Churchwick sprang up from his stool as though he'd been shot full of adrenaline, denying it flatly. "Your Grace of the Northland, all the subjects and nobles of our duchy are united in wholehearted resolve to follow our Grand Duke and resolutely repel your invasion. We have currently assembled three legions, and together with the capital Hans City's garrison legion and the defensive forces stationed throughout our territory, our Grand Duke commands over two hundred thousand elite soldiers and battle-tested generals.
"We have no need whatsoever to seek peace with invaders. It is only because our Grand Duke possesses a heart of compassion, and still holds affection for the old ties with the Krisen Empire, that he has issued strict orders for the front lines to adopt a defensive posture without counterattacking. He simply wishes to preserve the bond of friendship with the Krisen imperial house..."
Lorist set down his cup and began to clap. "Well said, Lord Count Churchwick. Do continue."
Continue? Continue with what... Count Churchwick stared at Lorist in bewilderment, not understanding what he meant by "continue." But seeing Lorist sitting there with an expression of eager attentiveness, the Count had no choice but to cast a helpless glance toward Visablon Grand Duke at his side.
Visablon Grand Duke wanted to laugh but could only hold it back and cough a couple of times to smooth things over. "Well, Grand Duke
Old fox, playing dumb again, and he had to make me play the bad cop. Lorist smiled and decided to lay it out plainly. "Lord Count Churchwick, the Handela Duchy has three provinces with nearly a million subjects—I imagine sustaining an army of over four hundred thousand is quite difficult..."
Count Churchwick's face reddened, but his mouth refused to concede. "Not at all. In recent years, our duchy has enjoyed favorable weather and bountiful harvests. Granaries across the land are overflowing with grain—enough to feed four hundred thousand soldiers for four or five years. Moreover, the Commercial Alliance has given us tremendous support. Ever since they heard of your attack on the four central duchies, all manner of military supplies have been pouring in as free aid.
They hope that the combined armies of the four central duchies can teach your Emperor a harsh lesson—to make him see reality and abandon his reckless ambitions of reunifying the former empire. It's simply that our Grand Duke is too soft-hearted and doesn't wish to meet you on the battlefield, which is why he sent me to sound out the two of you. If His Majesty Augsello's demands aren't too excessive, we'd rather cease hostilities and restore peace to the four central duchies as soon as possible..."
Heh, still bluffing. Nobles are all hypocrisy—if it were really as you say, would your Grand Duke have sent you here? It's just a matter of who holds out longer. Lorist curled his lip in disdain but didn't call him out. Instead, he deliberately put on a troubled expression. "Lord Count Churchwick, I believe you're telling the truth. But you should know our Emperor's temperament. He has never forgiven the four Grand Dukes for their betrayal years ago. He believes that if they had not refused to return to the Empire's embrace, his great cause of reunifying the former empire's territory would have already seen the dawn of day."
"So it's not that we don't want to help you—it's that the Emperor has already decided that the four central duchies must be destroyed this time. If the four Grand Dukes have any sense, I would personally advise them to surrender themselves to the Emperor and beg for mercy. I'm sure His Majesty will not take their lives."
"That is absolutely impossible!" Count Churchwick's face flushed red with agitation. "We still have four hundred thousand soldiers at our command. We will never simply surrender and await capture!"
Lorist slapped his thigh. "Wonderful! Since you refuse to surrender and you understand our Emperor's stubbornness, then just bring your entire four hundred thousand troops. We'll draw up our formations and have a proper decisive battle. If you can defeat us, that will naturally make our Emperor back down, and everyone can enjoy a few more years of peace."
Count Churchwick's face went white in an instant. He realized he had probably oversold his position. The current situation was one where they had more than enough to defend but lacked the strength to attack—especially with Lorist standing on the Second Prince's side. It wasn't as if he hadn't witnessed the fighting capability of the Northland Norton Family's armed forces. His bravado in front of Lorist had only backfired.
"Ha, ha," Count Churchwick gave a few dry laughs and quickly shifted his tone. "Well, Grand Duke Norton, I— I was sent by our Grand Duke to seek peace, not to arrange some kind of decisive battle between us. Our Grand Duke is sincere about ending this war, which is why he sent me to consult with the two of you and see if there's some way to bring this pointless conflict to an end..."
"Oh? Is that so?" Lorist was noncommittal. "Then tell me, what conditions did your Grand Duke propose?"
"Well, our Grand Duke says that if Your Highnesses can persuade His Majesty Oggzero to restore the four central duchies to their pre-war status, then the four Grand Dukes are willing to offer His Highness the Second Prince a tribute of two million gold Forde coins, and are willing to renounce the titles of the four duchies and return to His Majesty's fold. In addition, they would pay an annual tribute of one million gold coins to the royal treasury..."
Heh. Lorist was so amused by this that he nearly laughed. Did they actually expect the Second Prince to agree to such conditions? And they wanted him to persuade the Second Prince on their behalf? No wonder that old fox had been standing off to the side playing mute. If this war hadn't happened yet, such conditions might have given the Second Prince something to consider. But three duchies had already been wiped out and they were still putting forward demands like these? Had Grand Duke Hendra gotten kicked in the head by a donkey?
"Do you honestly think His Majesty would agree to conditions like these? If Grand Duke Hendra truly had sincerity, he wouldn't have sent you here. Tell you what—I'll deliver you straight to His Majesty and you can discuss these terms with him yourself." Lorist said flatly.
Count Churchwick's face shifted between green and white. In truth, he himself found these conditions absurd, but there was nothing he could do—they had been hammered out jointly by all four Grand Dukes, and Grand Duke Hendra had no sole say in the matter. The situation within the duchies was dire, and the relationship between the four Grand Dukes was far from harmonious. Grand Duke Fulundo was the most disciplined and could keep his subordinates in line; Grand Duke Sabagi had the fewest troops and couldn't cause much trouble even if he wanted to. The most detestable one was Grand Duke Falkel—arrogant and unrestrained, he was a guest sheltered within the duchy, yet he never once showed Grand Duke Hendra any respect.
Falkel's men actually dared to pillage towns and villages within the duchy's borders and abduct women, then brazenly proclaimed that they had abandoned their homeland to come defend Hendra's duchy—as if playing with a few women was nothing worth mentioning.
Grand Duke Hendra was incandescent with rage. He dispatched his knights to arrest the noble knights of Falkel who had committed these acts. Out of consideration for their alliance, he handed them over to Grand Duke Falkel for punishment. But to his shock, Falkel promptly released every last one of them, declaring with full confidence that killing a few commoners and taking a few women was no big deal—once Falkel's duchy was recaptured, they could all come and have a good time there...
Running into such a scoundrel of a Grand Duke was Grand Duke Hendra's worst stroke of bad luck—especially when that scoundrel was supposed to be an ally. Although Hendra's duchy only needed two legions for its current military situation, the Grand Duke had raised three. The reason for the third—the newly formed Black Dragon Legion—was to keep watch over another of Falkel's armies, the Blood Spear Legion, also garrisoned within the duchy's borders, to prevent them from ravaging the towns and villages surrounding their encampment.
Count Churchwick was all too aware of the dire straits Grand Duke Hendra's duchy was in. Four hundred thousand troops was no empty boast, but claiming they could feed and supply four hundred thousand soldiers for four or five years was a spectacular exaggeration. Even with bumper harvests in the duchy for several years running, the consumption of four hundred thousand men was staggering. The latest figures showed that the duchy's grain reserves could sustain them for at most half a year. Even factoring in the autumn harvest in October and next spring's winter wheat crop, they could stretch things by perhaps another month or two at best. And right in the middle of this looming food crisis, that Grand Duke Falkel had the audacity to demand his legions be supplied with ample rations of meat and fine grain...
The four central duchies had not failed to consider seeking aid from the Commercial Alliance. But what had the manager of the Vesia Trading Company—the one closest to Grand Duke Hendra's duchy—told them? He was sympathetic but helpless. He could only express his condolences over the four central duchies being attacked by the Second Prince, but at present the Commercial Alliance's attention was focused on the war against the allied forces of the Central-South Kingdom, and there was no way to provide support to the four duchies. However, the Vesia Trading Company had done business with the four central duchies in the past and there was some goodwill between them, so they were willing to sell the four Grand Dukes a batch of military equipment—armored suits and the like—at a discount.
They called it a discount, but the prices were thirty percent higher than usual, and the quality of the goods was dreadful. The manager answered with a straight face that there was nothing to be done—war was everywhere, military supplies were in hot demand, and the Vesia Trading Company had already done everything in its power to provide the four Grand Dukes with this batch of equipment, and so on and so forth. Grand Duke Hendra was so furious that he immediately shot back: was the Vesia Trading Company not worried that after the Second Prince destroyed the four central duchies, he would turn his armies toward the Trading Company's territory in Poduoerger Province? That was also a former territory of the Krisen Empire.
The manager replied with great pride that the Vesia Trading Company had no fear of such a thing happening. After all, behind them stood the Forde Commercial Alliance, the greatest power on the entire Galentea Continent today...
It was precisely because they could not secure the Alliance's support that the four central Grand Dukes had decided to seek peace with the Second Prince. However, the first condition they had agreed upon was the restoration of the pre-war situation—meaning the reinstatement of the three destroyed duchies. Just thinking about it, there was no way the Second Prince would agree to such a condition. Could meat that had already been swallowed be spat back out? As for the two million gold Forde in tribute, that was an even smaller matter—as soon as Grand Duke Hendra's duchy fell, those two million gold Forde wouldn't be going anywhere.
"If... if Your Highnesses could persuade His Majesty Augustero to agree to our demands, the four Grand Dukes have additional compensation to offer—five hundred thousand gold Forde each..." Count Churchwick was still doing his utmost.
Lorist flew into a rage. "I've earned nearly two million gold Forde from hunting in the Magic Plains alone—are you trying to humiliate me with a mere five hundred thousand?"
"Count Churchwick, given that you serve as an envoy, I can tolerate your rudeness. But I will absolutely not permit you to humiliate us. You may leave now. Go back and tell the four Grand Dukes to wash their necks clean—I would rather not dirty my longsword when the time comes."
"You—" Count Churchwick glared furiously at Lorist.
But Lorist paid him no mind. "Guards! See our guest out!"
...