In the western border of Krasilov, the largest city in Drovian connected by train was Eldbark.
This region was the most fiercely resistant to Krasilov’s territorial expansion leading up to the Great War and had been a base used for the most active plundering routes until Einar’s unification of Drovian.
These two sentences define the nature of this city. It means that war is always prepared, it is extremely belligerent, and at the same time, it maintains the most hostile environment towards Krasilov.
“It’s not like that anymore. That’s just prejudice.”
Ecdysis was passionately arguing. The group was on a train heading to Drovian.
“How long has it been since the United Kingdom was founded! Now plundering is… ‘a bad custom’ that my father has officially declared!”
For your reference, in Drovian, ‘bad custom’ means the easiest way for a man to prove his manhood, as long as it’s not discovered.
It’s no wonder that they get flustered when Lorensia is called a Drovian warrior. Krasilov was of such stature and was sincere about border monitoring, making it difficult to attempt it, but Lorensia was relatively approachable.
However, Ecdysis sat proudly upright. Logically, wouldn’t a trading center not be hostile to foreigners? Who would attempt trade in such a place?
It wasn’t wrong. Ivan lightly nodded and threw his gaze out the window.It wasn’t incorrect, but still.
He remembered that Ingvar Hakonson, the Jarl of Eldbark, wasn’t a very reasonable person.
Older than Einar, meaning in Drovian terms, ‘an elder.’
Plundering was part of life, battles were a way of life, and struggle was the very purpose of life for a ‘traditionalist.’ Such a person couldn’t have changed overnight.
That was the very reason he had chosen this land as the first area to approach. If he was dissatisfied with Einar’s rule, it would be natural that he would show his ambitions without hesitation.
The train soon came to a stop in Eldbark city.
Drovian is a newly established country that has only maintained its national identity as a unified nation for a little over ten years. Prior to that, the Drovian people had been maintaining a loose confederation system divided among dozens of clans.
This means that the chieftains of each clan and territory held authority equivalent to that of a king of a country. Moreover, it was a kind of authority that always had to be proven through their own strength and ability.
Therefore, all Jarls are fiercely ambitious. They are the power holders who have seen how a mere Jarl was able to establish a nation solely through individual strength. Unlike the superficial feudalism, the Jarls of this country never call the thought of becoming a king treason.
On the road leading to Eldbark’s White Castle, the fiery axe insignia, which seemed to belong to this clan, appeared far more frequently than the national emblem of the Drovian royal family, reflecting such ambition.
Ivan climbed the hill leading to the wooden steps with the group and looked up at the stark white castle wall. Beyond it, large warriors were looking down at them.
“Where are you from?”
“Krasilov.”
“Are you a messenger?”
“No.”
The two stoic men exchanged such words, and no sentences more than words followed. Ecdysis sighed and pushed Ivan aside.
Now that they were engaged, she thought it wouldn’t matter much to treat him a bit casually.
“My uncle is in the back. I’ve come! I’m Ecdysis Eynalstodir! I’ve come to see Uncle Ingvar!”
“Wait, Princess?!”
The warriors gasped and quickly looked around. If Einar were here, his head would have been off. They looked around with frightened eyes, but since they didn’t see the mad war king breathing hostility, they let out a small sigh.
“What brings you here? I’ve heard reports that the western fortress is suspicious; was it sent by His Majesty?”
“Something like that! Where’s Uncle?”
“He’s inside. Please, come in.”
Ivan frowned at the warriors’ demeanor. Their courtesy was too much for a Jarl who had ambitions on the throne…
Soon they were led into a spacious hall. The inside of the splendid wooden mansion was filled with all kinds of stuffed animals. The smell of the decaying beasts was wafting, perhaps due to poor processing.
From behind a bear skin rug, larger than three adult men, an old man slowly walked out. He moved with a frail body like a dry twig and upon seeing Ecdysis, he broke into a wide smile and opened his arms.
“Eshi!! It really is Eshi!”
“Uncle!!”
Ecdysis smiled brightly and ran over but paused for a moment before standing in front of him. She took a slightly haughty expression and adjusted her demeanor.
“I’ve grown up now! I need to show some manners!”
“Oh my, when did our little girl become so well-mannered?”
The old man chuckled and headed toward the end of the hall. He painfully sank into a chair and looked up at Ecdysis.
“So, my lady Ecdysis Eynalstodir. What brings you here? If I had known you would come early, I would have prepared a festival.”
“No need for that, Uncle. Have you been well?”
“Well, I live on barely. At least I shouldn’t die in bed.”
“You still have at least half a century left!”
Ecdysis replied somewhat shyly and then gestured towards Ivan. Only then did Ivan step out from behind and stand before Ecdysis.
“…”
The old man stared at Ivan’s face as if nailed in place, and the previously cheerful atmosphere abruptly cooled.
“Ingvar Hakonson. How have you been?”
“…Little Ivan.”
The old man’s dry lips struggled to part. He stuttered a few times before managing to ask.
“Is it true that you’re alive?”
“Yeah.”
“Dammit.”
The old man tightened his grip on his cane and spoke carefully.
“Have you come to kill me?”
“…No, that’s not the reason I’m here.”
“Then who have you come to kill?”
“Uncle? Ivan Uncle doesn’t usually go around killing people.”
“What nonsense is that, Eshi? Get away from there. Where there’s that man, someone always ends up dead…! That guy is a monster!”
“Oh…”
Listening to the conversation, Isabelle clapped her knee in admiration. Living for such a long time truly signifies wisdom.
“Enough with the jokes, Ingvar.”
“…Is Krasilov preparing for war? But the agreement with Einar…”
“Have your wits left you?”
“Ha, the way you speak, it really is that reckless brat. I thought I was seeing things because my vision has been dimming. No, if it’s something that hideous, I shouldn’t be seeing it at all.”
Ingvar stroked his thick beard and looked at Ivan.
“So, what brings you to my humble home?”
“I need troops.”
“If it’s a war from Krasilov, then why me? Is it really that urgent?”
“No, I am not here as a messenger from Krasilov. Ingvar.”
Ivan looked up at the old man with deep-set eyes.
“Is Einar still in the capital?”
“No. I heard he went on an eastern inspection. How did you know? No, no, you must have planted a spy. Just like your kind always does… Are you suggesting rebellion to me? I refuse. What blessing could I hope to gain at my age?”
Typical of an old man, he was organizing his own logic and muttering. Ivan sighed at that. However, he was from a country where civil society represented lineage and the principles of seniority were foundational for governance, so he decided to listen instead of interrupting the old man.
Unexpectedly, Ingvar seemed to be quite content with Einar’s reign. His friendly demeanor was quite surprising, especially in a situation where plunder had been officially prohibited.
However, one suspicious aspect still remained.
“Have you not heard anything about the demon’s attacks or aggression?”
“The demon? Are you referring to the western colonies?”
“No, I mean, literally, the army of demons.”
“Army, huh. If they were sane, they wouldn’t dare invade Drovian…? Maybe if Einar were dead, but who knows.”
It’s certain. The reason Einar has gone east is undoubtedly to respond to the threat of demons.
I may not be able to know the information from the east, but Drovian is a country facing the Demon Realm across the narrow eastern front. Excluding the sea, that region is the only place the demons could invade.
If there were no demon uprising, there would be no reason for Einar to leave the capital. Thinking it was just an ‘inspection’….
“Someone must have concealed the information in between.”
A traitor. An ambitious Jarl preparing the rebellion capitalizing on Einar’s absence. Surprisingly, the old man I was most suspicious of was not the one.
Then things would become relatively easier.
Ivan looked at the old man with a somewhat softened gaze. After all, seniority dictates the old man should be respected.
“There was intelligence from my home country. Someone among the Jarls is said to have allied with the demons and is targeting Einar. The demon army is attacking the eastern front, and ‘a certain’ Jarl is blocking information to get to Einar.”
“Hm. So that’s why you asked for troops. Yes, if Einar dies, Krasilov would certainly be unsettled.”
That singular entity was the only obstacle that prevented conflict between Krasilov and Drovian. Ingvar nodded as he stroked his beard gently.
“But is there any reason I should believe what you said?”
“I can assure you, Uncle. It’s true. I rushed over after hearing that!”
“I believe you, little one. But the people of Krasilov are inherently untrustworthy. You may be naive enough to trust easily, but those people always carry knives in their bellies. And besides.”
Ingvar smiled wryly.
“If Einar dies that quickly, well, it wouldn’t be such a bad situation for me either.”
“Uncle…?!”
“Not that I want your father to actually die. Anyway, because of that, I would be able to engage in ‘legal plunder.’ However, if you want troops, that changes things, doesn’t it? Little Ivan. What reason do I have to believe my troops will go to you and your godforsaken country?”
“If there’s proof that I haven’t deceived Ecdysis?”
“Could such a thing exist?”
In logic, proving an absence is notoriously difficult. There isn’t really a way to demonstrate something doesn’t exist.
However, thanks to the advancements of 21st-century logic, it becomes possible. Since Ivan was a representative of civilization in this other world, it wasn’t difficult for him to counter this.
The strongest evidence that there was no reason to deceive Ecdysis. Proof that he had to actively prevent Einar’s death. And….
The solid ground that would justify asking for military support from the Jarls of Drovian.
“I am the one who has promised to marry Ecdysis.”
“…?!”
“For Ecdysis and I’s rights to be maintained, Einar must remain alive. If Ecdysis and I have an heir, that child will be the king. Could there be a stronger motivation than this?”
“…”
Creak.
The cane in Ingvar’s hand made a strange sound.
“How old are you again…?”
“Thirty-five. Why do you ask?”
“How old is Ecdysis this year…?”
“Twenty-two!”
“I see. I see.”
Ingvar slowly rose from his seat and looked down at Ivan and Ecdysis. He smiled kindly while clutching his cane.
Creak!
The cane crumbled into powder, and amidst it, Ingvar’s red eyes shimmered.
“In Drovian, thieves have their arms cut off, and robbers who sleep with a man’s daughter without the parents’ consent have their lower parts cut off. Ivan Petrovich. You will face both of those penalties.”
“Good then, Ingvar.”
Ivan lightly nodded and rose to face him.
“I was just curious if the Jarls of Drovian still fight like back in the day; this would be good practice.”
“You can look forward to it.”
The time of honoring the elder was over. Now, he had to attack the old man. It dawned upon him that this wasn’t the 21st century, nor was it Earth or South Korea.
When in Rome, do as the Romans do. The law of the castle in Drovian is only ‘proof of strength,’ so this would not contradict seniority.
Survival itself is proof of strength…. Yes, committing wholeheartedly is the way to respect this old warrior.
Ignoring the flustered Ecdysis, the two warriors unleashed their intent to kill and headed toward the training grounds.
That evening, a grand banquet was held at Eldbark’s White Castle. It was a festival to celebrate Ecdysis’s marriage and bless the warriors on their expedition.
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