Chapter 259: The Royal Conference (4)

From the highest seat overlooking hundreds of nobles, Rukan opened the session.

“Why do you think I have called you here?”

Silence fell over the great hall. Not a single fool dared to innocently give an answer to his quiz.

“Speak, Timothy Ken Terpen, baron of the east.”

Timothy flinched in surprise, but relied on his years of experience to give a safe, conventional answer.

“I humbly presume that you have gathered us to discuss matters of great importance to the kingdom, Your Highness...”

“What specific matters of importance?” Rukan asked.

“Matters of economy, military, politics, and society, Your Highness.”

“If you know so well... then why have you done nothing?”

Though it was December, a time when snow could fall at any moment, Timothy began to sweat. Rukan’s voice had not risen. He was as calm as before, but that calmness tightened around Timothy’s throat like a noose.

“For the last fifty years, what has Terpen done for this kingdom?” Rukan asked.

“W-we have devoted ourselves to training knights, in hopes of producing a Master-level knight.”

“I see. Then I must have overlooked it. A knight trained for fifty years by Terpen should surely be a Grandmaster by now. My apologies for not remembering. What is his name?”

Timothy, who had been trying to maintain composure, dropped to his knees.

Thud!

The impact was so loud one might have thought his knees cracked. But his voice, by contrast, was very small.

“We have devoted ourselves to training knights, but... we have yet to produce a Master-level one. However! Your Highness, if you grant me ten more years, I swear I will raise one!”

“I am genuinely asking because I do not know, Baron Timothy, but was Terpen not an administrative family? Since when were you a military family dedicated to training knights?”

“T-that is... Administration is... Well...”

“Terpen was entrusted with managing this kingdom’s soil. Your duty is to investigate, preserve, and cultivate fertile land throughout the regions. Baron Manix Ken Darlington.”

Manix, suddenly called, jolted upright.

“Yes, Your Highness!”

“Darlington oversees the kingdom’s crop yields, so you must know well about how the harvest numbers changed in the last ten years, right?”

“They... have clearly declined, Your Highness.”

“I apologize, but I’m not smart. Please give me numbers so I can understand. Is ten years too sudden? Then tell me the difference between last year’s harvest and this year’s.”

“That is...”

“It fell by four percent. Compared to ten years ago, the total yield has dropped by thirty-five percent, which is nearly half,” Rukan said, answering his own question.

“...”

Both Timothy and Manix bowed their heads low. The other patriarchs felt no joy watching them.

Crown Prince Rukan knew all this?

They say he understands a thousand things from seeing just one... It’s like he can see through all of us from the heavens.

The fact that Rukan, who was royalty, knew their duties and failings so precisely made it hard for the patriarchs to breathe. Not once had the nobles seriously reflected on their responsibilities. They had only indulged in noble pleasures, so when Rukan confronted them with facts, not one excuse came to mind.

And the other patriarchs were unaware; they thought they were hiding their emotions well, but they didn’t know that Rukan could clearly see the nervous fidgeting of those terrified they might be the next target.

Not all were like that, however. Some sat with straight backs and firm shoulders, facing forward without fear. Even among them were a few who seemed to want to be called upon.

Breaking the silence, Rukan addressed the crowd in the same tone. “Therefore, the two of you shall be stripped of all property and status.”

“...?!”

The two patriarchs, still bowing, raised their heads for the first time.

“Parasites who give nothing to the kingdom and only drain its blood will no longer be tolerated.”

“Y-Your Highness! Please! Grant us just one chance! We will fulfill our duties as a noble family!” Timothy shouted.

Manix slammed his forehead against the floor in desperation. “I may be a parasite, but my sons are talented and capable! Please—at least grant them a chance!” Manix pleaded.

The patriarchs assumed the princes were simply using harsh methods to assert authority and thought this was punishment enough. The once-proud barons were bowing with their heads touching the floor. They were crying and begging, swearing to fulfill their duties from now on.

It could have turned into a warm, conciliatory moment if Rukan ended it there, saying that this was the final warning. However...

“Why are commoners allowed inside the palace?”

“Your Highness! Crown Prince Rukan!”

With that single remark, the palace guards at the entrance seized the two patriarchs—no, the former patriarchs—and dragged them out.

The faces of the remaining nobles went pale. They now understood that Rukan did not summon them merely for admonishment.

“Are you all relieved? Thinking only those two were meant as examples?”

This was not Rukan’s voice; it was more on-edge and irritable—it was Rakan, the second prince. He rose from his seat and swept his gaze across the assembly.

“The rest of you aren’t much better. If I had to lecture each of you one by one, I’d need more than eternity. But at least you’re a sliver better than those two. Because those two were traitors who sold the kingdom’s secrets.”

The two men dragged away hadn’t been removed only for incompetence; the palace had caught them selling national secrets.

“Queen Lillian was merciful, and you all clung to that mercy like parasites. To put it bluntly, at this rate, this kingdom will collapse. Not even by the Samael Empire, but by the barbaric kingdom of Adeus—or worse, by some other obscure nation. Neither I nor my brother will allow that.”

Rakan did not bother talking about Lillian returning, as no one knew if she ever would. But the patriarchs understood perfectly that the princes called this royal conference because they were sure that she wouldn’t return.

“In the past, our Lillian Kingdom was an epitome of power that even the empire dared not provoke. The Baen Kingdom paid us tribute, and we seized territory from the Adeus Kingdom every year. But look at us now. How did we fall so far behind compared to a hundred years ago? Especially you, Sefira!”

Like Rukan, Rakan suddenly pointed at someone. This time, the target was Sefira, the Master of Archery, for some reason, fiery anger filled his gaze as he stared directly at Hissop.

* * *

Despite Rakan’s sudden call, Hissop calmly answered, “Deputy Patriarch Hissop El Sefira, present.”

“Four Lords and Seven Gates: the four lords and seven master families who are the pride of our kingdom. Sefira is one of the Seven Gates as the Master of Archery... So why is it that you don’t have a single Grandmaster?” Rakan asked.

“It is because of the nature of aura, Your Highness.”

“Oh? So you intend to make excuses? Fine, let’s hear them.”

“As you are aware, aura is specialized for close range, Your Highness. The moment a user’s connection with the aura breaks, it begins to dissipate, and very quickly at that. Even among expert swordsmen, those who can project sword aura as far as ten meters are rare, and this is proof of aura’s limitations.”

“If aura has such a flaw, then why not simply use magic? Does Sefira not understand something that basic?”

“Forgive me, Your Highness, but aura can be cultivated by anyone through effort. Mana, however, requires innate affinity. If one lacks that affinity, one cannot even begin training. Thus, raising knights who use magic is exceedingly difficult.”

“Is that so? Even if aura is difficult to use at long range. Sefira is a centuries-old family. And according to records, your family produced not only six-star warriors but even a seven-star Prime three hundred years ago. How do you explain that?”

Rakan pressed relentlessly, but Hissop was calm as though he had anticipated every question.

“I have heard such records as well. However, for some reason, all documents detailing their methods have been lost, and we have been unable to recover them,” Hissop replied smoothly.

“If you cannot find them, then you should create them anew!”

“At the time, that was impossible. Sefira was summoned to nearly every battlefield, so we had neither the time nor the manpower to restore lost techniques. And even after the war, there were countless places that required our archers. We could not spare the resources.”

“So you blame everything on circumstances and other people. Why not simply admit you lacked effort? Do you think the other master families spent their days frolicking around? They fulfilled their duties and protected the kingdom. While doing that, they improved their techniques and produced Grandmasters and Primes. Sefira’s arrogance and complacency have always displeased me. And now your shamelessness is beginning to irritate me further.”

Rakan’s accusations were forceful and unreasonable. Hissop, however, understood what Rakan truly wanted.

He wants me to say that I’m sorry.

That was what Rakan wanted to hear. Hissop knew that, but for that very reason, he refused to say it. This wasn’t out of pride, but because of something his father, Besil, once told him.

“If you admit fault when you’ve done nothing wrong, that is when it becomes a real mistake.”

Recalling those words, Hissop continued. “Your Highness, may I ask if you are aware of the deployment ratio of noble families?”

Rakan frowned, not because Hissop dared to question him, but because he did not know what a deployment ratio was.

Seeing that expression, Hissop continued. “The deployment ratio is the percentage of a family’s total soldiers who are dispatched outside their own territory. For example, if a family has one thousand soldiers and a deployment ratio of seventy percent, then only three hundred soldiers remain within the territory.”

“And what of it, Deputy Patriarch Hissop?” Rakan questioned.

“The deployment ratios of the other six master families range from twenty to forty percent. Not only the master families, but most military families strive to maintain around thirty percent.”

Hissop turned not to the princes but to the overwhelming presence seated across from him. “I would like to ask Grand Duke Winchester: why do military families maintain a deployment ratio of thirty percent?”

Winchester, the grand duke of the north, was the head of Browning, the strongest family in the Lillian Kingdom, and the only man said to rival even the Four Lords. His sheer presence was oppressive. Even without looking at him, Hissop could feel him. In a chamber filled with hundreds of nobles and royalty, Winchester stood apart, like someone from another realm.

At Hissop’s question, Winchester’s eyelid twitched. To an outsider, it might have looked like the two were acquainted, but this was their first time meeting.

Winchester remained silent, and Hissop waited, steadfast. In the end, Winchester was the one to speak up.

“It is to train our techniques, to pass them down, and to ensure the family and kingdom can be protected in times of crisis. Unless under special circumstances, thirty percent is the proper limit for deployment.”

Every word carried immense weight. The other patriarchs of military families nodded in agreement.

Hissop bowed slightly in gratitude, then continued. “For the past hundred years, Sefira’s average deployment ratio has been seventy-four percent, and in the last ten years, it has been eighty-seven percent.”

“...!”

The hall stirred. It was double, even triple the ratio of other families. Some nobles didn’t believe it. For a family with large territories, operating with only twenty to thirty percent of its soldiers at home was barely feasible. Even if they assigned all their remaining soldiers to guard duty, it would barely be enough. So of course, training, passing down techniques, or pursuing any form of advancement would be even more difficult.

Rakan didn’t understand the deeper implications, but he didn’t need to. The reactions of the other families were enough to show that Sefira’s lack of technological advancement was completely understandable.

“Your Highness, Sefira faced circumstances that could not be overcome through effort alone. I humbly ask for your understanding,” Hissop said to Rakan.

Even while refuting him, Hissop worked hard not to appear confrontational; after all, Rakan was royalty, and he was merely a subject.

Rakan glared at Hissop for a moment. Hissop met his gaze without flinching. Eventually, Rakan opened his mouth.

“So that’s why Sefira’s madman runs around causing trouble.”

He didn’t say the name, but everyone knew.

He didn’t name anyone directly, but just hearing the word “madman” was enough for Hissop and everyone else to know exactly who he meant.

Keter.

Keter’s calm gaze paired with insane behavior was impossible to forget, no matter how hard one tried.