Chapter 243. How Dare You Try to Get Something for Nothing? (1)

Kinder Salmon was a man who wielded enormous influence over the empire's judiciary and had turned many nobles from key border cities into his loyal faction. If one were to list the empire's true power players, Duke Kinder Salmon would always rank among the top three.

Now, that very duke frowned as a young man growled at him from across the room.

"Grrrrrr," Caron growled.

"...Caron. Calm down," Fayle said, trying to smooth things over. "Nothing has been decided yet. At least show some courtesy to our guest—"

"I can spot it right away. You've got to stir things up early in situations like this. If you set the tone from the start, they won't be able to say a word later," Caron interrupted.

"...My apologies, Duke," Fayle said. "My son is still young and knows little of the world. He's grown up with nothing but a sword in his hands, and when it comes to noble etiquette... He has a tendency to disregard it."

"Children never grow the way their parents intend," Duke Salmon said with a chuckle. "Don't worry yourself over it. I'm not offended."

"Thank you for your understanding," Fayle said.

The setting was the imperial audience chamber, which was ordinarily used to welcome foreign emissaries, but was now repurposed for a high-stakes negotiation between two of the most powerful houses in the empire.

Representing the Ducal Family of Leston was Caron's father, Fayle, with Caron seated beside him. Behind them stood several of Halo's grandchildren, including Hugo, silently observing the talks.

The Duke of Salmon took a sip of tea, poured by one of his attendants, before speaking in a slow, deliberate tone. "I heard His Majesty has awakened."

"Yes. It's a small blessing amid the misfortune," Fayle replied.

"We were close to repeating the tragedy of fifty years ago," the Duke said. "The Ducal Family of Leston deserves praise for averting it."

"We simply did our duty," Fayle said.

It was a flattering start, crediting the Ducal Family of Leston's contributions, but no one believed the Duke had spoken such words without a purpose.

As expected, he soon shifted gears, saying, "There's no need to worry about matters beyond the palace. The Security Bureau is handling things with care. Of course, there are whispers among some citizens regarding the plot that unfolded within the royal family... but so far, there have been no major issues."

In other words, he was saying that they were doing their part for the empire, too.

"Oh, and don't worry about the borderlands," he added casually. "I've personally issued instructions to the lords there."

"You've issued instructions?" Fayle asked carefully.

"If the royal family falters, the empire follows. And there are still plenty of enemies lurking around, waiting to strike," the Duke answered.

Now, it was becoming blatant. What the duke meant was clear. Once the dust settled, he expected to be handsomely rewarded during the merit distribution.

The Duke took another sip of tea, then continued in a gentler voice, "Ah, I forgot to ask. What condition is Marquis Diaz in? Any updates?"

At that, Fayle let out a quiet sigh and replied with a bitter expression, "It's not good. His body has been heavily contaminated by dark mana."

"Hm... Wasn't the Marquis one of the Crown Prince's allies?" the Duke asked.

"It's... a complicated situation," Fayle replied.

The Duke had yet to realize that the Malevolent Emperor had possessed the Crown Prince. For now, he seemed to believe the Marquis had merely assisted the Crown Prince in summoning demons.

The case of Marquis Diaz was unique. Though he was technically the Crown Prince's father-in-law, the Crown Prince had, at the time, been under the influence of the Malevolent Emperor.

That didn't mean the Marquis was innocent, however. He had certainly worked to create conditions favorable to the Crown Prince's faction. From manipulating public opinion to outright criminal acts, his guilt was evident.

Still, a proper investigation was necessary. They had to know when the Crown Prince had fallen under the Malevolent Emperor's control, and how much the Marquis knew and when.

There was far too much information yet to be extracted from Marquis Diaz.

Fayle glanced at Caron quietly, then leaned in to ask in a low voice, "What do you think we should do?"

In moments like this, it was best to trust his son's judgment. Perhaps Caron was uncontrollable, but when it came to handling the unexpected, Fayle had to admit—his son had a gift.

"Hmm," Caron murmured, leaning closer to whisper into Fayle's ear. "They're just looking for an excuse to demand a share of the rewards, right?"

"That's right," Fayle answered.

"Then we need to show them they don't deserve one. Mind if I take the lead from here?" Caron asked.

"...Just don't sink your teeth into Duke Salmon," Fayle replied.

"Oh, Father. Who do you think I am," Caron said with a mischievous smile.

Caron really could bite the Duke if left unchecked, and that was exactly the kind of person he was. But sometimes, that unpredictability had its uses.

The carrot and stick approach had always been a classic negotiating tool. After getting smacked around a little by the stick named Caron, whatever carrot Fayle offered would suddenly seem much more appealing.

So, Fayle gave a slow nod and handed the reins to his son.

"I won't disappoint you, Father," Caron said, straightening up with resolve. Then, he turned to the head of the opposing house.

"Duke Salmon," Caron began, his tone firm. "I'll be speaking in my father's place from here on."

"Hmm. Caron Leston," the Duke said, narrowing his eyes. "You don't seem to grasp the gravity of this meeting. This is a negotiation between noble houses. It's a matter for elders, not impetuous youth. You would do well to learn when to speak and when to stay silent."

It was a textbook power move—leaning on age and authority to suppress opposition. But such tactics had no effect on Caron.

"I personally executed the Crown Prince under the emperor's orders," Caron said coolly. "And yet you say I lack the right to speak here? I must say, that stings."

He let out a dry laugh, then pulled a bottle from his pouch of dimensional space with no regard for propriety.

"I got too much blood on my hands today. I hope you don't mind if I have a drink while we talk," he said. His tone was openly disrespectful.

One of Duke Salmon's knights, standing behind him, reached instinctively for his sword. But the Duke raised a hand and stopped the knight.

"Drink as you please. I'm not so stiff that I'd forbid a man a little comfort," the Duke said.

"Thank you," Caron replied, unfazed.

What he'd pulled out was a brutally strong bottle of vodka. It was high-quality, smuggled in during a trip to the North Sea. From the same pouch, Caron retrieved several glasses and placed them neatly on the table. He began pouring without a word.

Duke Salmon watched with a flicker of amusement and asked, "Is this your way of suggesting we share a drink?"

"Not at all," Caron replied flatly, continuing to fill each glass in silence.

When the final glass was full, he tipped the bottle back and drank straight from it. The harsh liquor scorched his throat on the way down. Then, he set the bottle down and looked directly at the Duke.

"These glasses don't belong to anyone in this room," Caron said, then held the Duke's gaze as he continued, "I realized I never had the chance to honor the ones who died with dignity. So I thought I'd do it now, while I still can."

Many Oceanwolf Knights, including Hans, had fallen during the chaos at the Imperial Palace. Once again, the Ducal Family of Leston had bled willingly for the empire, doing everything in its power to stop history from repeating the nightmare of fifty years past.

But in the end, what had awaited those knights was only a tragic death.

"For the honored knights of the Oceanwolf Knight Order, who fell at the Imperial Palace," Caron declared as he raised the bottle high and took another deep swig of vodka.

Perhaps because he was suppressing his mana on purpose, his face turned red rapidly from the burn of the liquor, and the sharp scent of alcohol wafted across the negotiation table.

Clack.

Caron set the bottle down hard on the table and locked eyes with Duke Salmon.

"It's so fascinating," Caron said coldly. "The dust hasn't even settled, and our Ducal Family of Leston hasn't had time to bury its dead properly. The blood we shed hasn't even dried."

His gaze sliced across the Duke like a blade.

"And yet here you are, already talking about recognition and reward—throwing in something completely unrelated, like how you're managing the lords of the border cities," Caron continued.

Anyone with half a brain could understand what that had meant.

It was a threat. More than that, it was a bold and arrogant threat, implying that force was on the table if things didn't go the Duke's way.

And the reason behind it was simple. Duke Salmon wanted to make sure he secured his share when the political landscape began to shift again.

"It's disgraceful, isn't it?" Caron added, hisvoice sharp. "For those who didn't shed a drop of blood to flaunt themselves before those who did?"

He didn't even bother to hide his contempt. He stared directly at the Duke with a openly hostile gaze. If someone who'd actually bled beside him had made such a request, Caron would have accepted it. But this man had strutted into the palace only after everything was over—and now he wanted so many things.

"I don't believe you're such a shameless man, Duke Salmon," Caron said.

However, what he really meant was: Know your place and don't go overboard.

Duke Salmon's expression darkened. He turned to Fayle and asked in a low, tense voice, "Is this truly the stance of the Ducal Family of Leston?"

Fayle let out a sheepish chuckle and gave a slight nod, then said, "My son doesn't seem to be entirely wrong."

"You're making a mistake," the Duke growled.

"I'm not so sure," Fayle replied. "It doesn't feel as if we're the ones making the mistake here."

Duke Salmon hadn't expected them to come out swinging like this. He clutched his teacup tightly and sighed. He wondered,

Is the Ducal Family of Leston planning to upend everything with this opportunity?

Perhaps they meant to prop up the royal family like puppets, ruling the empire from the shadows. It wasn't an impossible scenario. The Ducal Family of Leston certainly had the power for it.

But just then, Fayle softened his tone and spoke with calm diplomacy. "To stabilize this chaotic political landscape, we'll need your help, Duke Salmon. There will be many trials following this incident, and the empire's future will be uncertain. I believe both the Ducal Family of Leston and the Ducal Family of Salmon have different ways they can contribute to the empire."

Fayle's words were far gentler than Caron's, but the intent behind them was no different.

So he's basically telling me to stay out of it for now, and he'll make sure I get something later on,

Duke Salmon thought. He then swallowed his frustration and gave a reluctant nod.

There was nothing else he could do when they were coming at him with such unified force. And, truthfully, they hadn't said anything he could really refute.

Duke Salmon let out a soft sigh and turned his attention to Caron once more. He thought,

What a terrifying man.

To demand more now would be to lose even more later. Duke Salmon wasn't foolish enough to miss that. So instead, he said, "Tell me what needs to be done."

And thus, he took Fayle's outstretched hand. Looking over at Caron, he gave a bitter smile.

So it's not just brute strength...

Duke Salmon thought.

Caron looked like a lunatic, but this wasn't madness. This had all been carefully calculated.

At least, that was what the Duke thought.

Until...

"Hiccup."

Caron suddenly turned around, his eyes half-glazed. Then he let out a long groan. "Argh, I'm getting drunk. Leo, did you see that? This is how you deal with old-timers."

"Caron, you can't just say that out loud!" Leo replied.

"Hehe, that's not my problem, is it? Ugh, I drank way too much..." Caron said.

"Just break down the alcohol with your mana, you crazy bastard!" Leo said.

"What's the point of drinking if I'm gonna do that?" Caron rambled drunkenly, loudly and unfiltered.

Duke Salmon watched the scene unfold, eyebrows twitching as he thought,

...Maybe he really is just a lunatic.

It was smart to avoid madmen whenever possible. For now, there was no choice but to take a step back.

Thus, Duke Salmon shook his head slowly and backed off—saving his ambitions for another day.

***

Thanks to Caron's dazzling performance, Duke Salmon's faction agreed—albeit reluctantly—to follow the Ducal Family of Leston's lead. With the addition of the Salmon troops to the existing forces, order was restored to the Imperial Palace at an even faster pace.

Having finally been granted a moment of rest by Halo, Caron found himself in the lounge of the Imperial Guards Headquarters. Sinking onto a bed placed against the wall, he let out a long, weary breath. "Hah..."

Without using mana to sober up, the alcohol's effects were hitting him hard, and overwhelming fatigue weighed down on him.

"The empire will change drastically because of all this,"

Guillotine said in a low voice.

Caron gave a slight nod, then turned toward the demonic sword and asked, "You really didn't know the royal family had demon blood?"

"Rael kept a lot of secrets—even from me,"

Guillotine replied.

"I figured. There's no way he would've trusted a demonic sword. Forget it," Caron said.

"Ouch. That hurts,"

the sword grumbled.

"Hurts or not, it's true," Caron said.

If Guillotine couldn't help him, then he would have to turn to Gratia for help instead.

Still half-buried in the bed, he lightly clenched his fist and muttered, "I've done everything I needed to do today."

From here on out, it was Halo's responsibility.

The empire stood at the edge of a new era. The Demon Kings' power had reached its peak, and they were relentlessly targeting the continent. Now was the time for everyone to come together and move forward.

Who the next emperor would be, and what choices that next emperor would make—the empire now stood at a crossroads once again, just as it had fifty years earlier. It was time to begin a new plan.

No one knew exactly what lay ahead, but the destination remained the same: The Demon Realm. At the end of this road, that was what lay waiting.

Which meant it was time to begin preparations in earnest. Without enough readiness, they would never be able to break through.

"...I should rest for now," Caron murmured, his eyelids beginning to droop. The tension in his body finally eased, and drowsiness crept in.

"Get some sleep while you can. Once the palace is fully cleaned up, there won't be time for rest,"

Guillotine advised.

"Yeah... I will," Caron mumbled. "I'm sleeping."

It had been a long, exhausting day.

"Sleep well,"

Guillotine replied.

And just like that, Caron drifted into sleep.

***

But the world wasn't so accommodating.

Barely thirty minutes had passed when Leo burst into the lounge in a panic, shouting, "Caron! Grandfather's looking for you! It's urgent!"

"Ugh, come on... Let me sleep," Caron groaned.

"Just get up and hear him out first!" Leo added.

...It seemed something had happened. Again.