Chapter 173

Translator: Willia

If there was one truth in this world, it was that everything came to an end.

Dark times ended, and happy times ended too. Of course, there was no knowing whether that end would be cold death or a hopeful new beginning.

The war ended, and so did winter. In the southern reaches of the Kingdom of Adeloron, the snow that had blanketed the highland fields melted and seeped into the earth.

As the frozen ground thawed, new shoots pushed through the damp soil. A thread-thin brook that flowed only in spring and summer began to run as well.

Then suddenly, someone stepped into the clear little brook with a splash. Ignoring the perfectly good ground beside it, he deliberately walked through the water, splashing with every step.

There was no particular reason for it. The one splashing his way along the brook was a young shepherd boy, doing nothing more than playing in the water like any other child.

There were no sheep in sight, wherever they had gone. It seemed this was simply his way of easing the boredom of a shepherd's life.

The boy imagined something in his head. Like children often did, he cast himself into his own fantasy.

The scene playing out in his mind came from a tale he had once heard about Ricardt, the Philosopher King. A story about how he swung his sword like a flash of lightning and cut down his enemies.

Stories about Ricardt and the life he had led had spread even to a place this backward. And for some, they became dreams.

Of course, such a dream seemed impossibly far beyond a mere shepherd boy, but perhaps there was meaning in it even if he never achieved it, if only because it gave him a pleasant experience for a little while.

Pretending he was Ricardt himself, the boy stomped through the brook with exaggerated vigor and swung his stick around. He seemed delighted by the water spraying up without quite soaking his clothes.

Warm sunlight hung in the sky as though watching the boy's antics. Perhaps satisfied by the performance, it reached out like a hand and illuminated something.

The boy had been wildly swinging his stick until he was panting for breath when he noticed something glittering in the brook.

He could not help looking at it, and once he did, he could not help crouching down and reaching for it.

In his hand, it looked like a pebble smaller than his fingernail. The only thing that set it apart from the other stones was that it glittered like starlight.

A smile naturally spread across his innocent face. He had no idea what the stone was. He was simply happy because it was pretty, as though he had found a four-leaf clover.

The boy tucked the glittering stone into his clothes. Then he went back to stomping through the brook and swinging his stick. Yet he had taken only a few more steps when he spotted another glittering stone.

Had stars fallen from the sky? The boy tilted his head and picked up the shining stone. Now he had two.

By the end of that day, the boy had picked up eight glittering stones in all.

Excited that he had found something unusual, the boy showed them to his father. His father initially frowned, wondering what sort of pointless nonsense his son was going on about, but his eyes widened the moment he saw the glittering stones the boy held out.

Late that very night, he ran straight to the village chief's house and showed him the glittering stones his son had found.

The village chief, roused from sleep, frowned at first as well, only for his expression to turn grave moments later.

The next day, the village chief took the glittering stones to the newly appointed Border Knight, a former member of the Order of the Steel Knights.

And so the stones passed from hand to hand until, in the end, they reached Ricardt.

Marie and Bori, along with Paolo, Lester, and the others, gathered close and peered down at the glittering stones resting in Ricardt's palm.

Paolo was the first to speak.

“They're rather large for placer gold.”

“What does that mean?”

“There may be a vein nearby. A gold mine.”

Everyone gathered around except Lester instantly widened their eyes.

“W-What do we do, Ricky?”

Bori spoke with a tremor in his voice.

“About what?”

“Are we finally going to be rich?”

Bori was not greedy for money. He simply liked money. Perhaps it was because he had grown up without much, but he had always been that way.

Since following Ricardt, he had constantly seen enormous sums of money pass before his eyes, but just as much had been spent, so he had never accumulated much personally. Even now that Ricardt was king.

“Not yet, Bori. Where was this found, and by whom?”

Ricardt looked at Raimund as he asked. The Border Knight had reported the matter directly to him.

“A village called Prava in the Polchen region. A shepherd found them in a brook, and the Border Knight submitted a report.”

“Where exactly is Prava?”

“Almost due west of Adelun.”

“What is the terrain like?”

“I am told there are few forests and high mountain ranges rise through the region, so there are only certain routes suitable for passage.”

“Any forts or outposts?”

“There are watchtowers and beacon stations, but none are presently manned.”

Rather than immediately rejoicing over the possibility of a gold mine, Ricardt first asked for a rough picture of the surrounding terrain.

A gold mine would presumably lie somewhere mountainous, and most of Adeloron's mountains lay along its frontiers. And a frontier meant there was another lord on the other side.

“Who rules beyond that border?”

Ricardt turned to Paolo as he asked.

“Duke Frederia. More precisely, the land on the other side belongs to Count Rotenberg, who serves under the duke. For reference, Duke Frederia belongs to the neutral faction, just as Your Majesty does. He has had his forces mustered for nearly a year, but he has made no notable moves during that time.”

Duke Frederia's diplomatic stance could be summed up simply enough: I won't touch you, so don't touch me. He had also made it perfectly clear that anyone who tried anything foolish against him would not enjoy the consequences.

“Shouldn't we first investigate whether there really is a vein?”

Marie spoke. Ricardt poured the grains of gold onto the table with a soft rattle and replied.

“If we wait until we know whether it's there before deciding what to do, it'll be too late. We decide beforehand, then find out whether the vein exists.”

“Decide what?”

“In the worst case, whether we're willing to fight or whether we'll use diplomatic means. If we find out about it, they'll find out too. The streams formed by the winter snow melting won't flow only onto our side of the border. Even if they're slower to react than we are, they'll inevitably notice once we begin surveying the vein.”

Ricardt was always faster than his opponents, whether he was moving troops or taking some other measure. The secret was not that he thought faster. It was that he thought ahead.

Looking at the way things were developing, trouble was practically in the air. If there were two things capable of making people lose their heads so completely that they could no longer recognize even parent or child, they were power and money.

This was not something that could be settled with a hearty laugh and a few pleasant words of persuasion.

Most people failed because they smelled trouble coming and chose to ignore it anyway. They approached matters with complacent thoughts like, ‘Surely they wouldn't actually go to war over this’, and that was precisely why they failed.

That did not mean Ricardt intended to start a war immediately. He simply wanted their policy settled in advance.

“Your Majesty, what you say is entirely correct, but the kingdom has only just begun to stabilize. Issuing another Call to Arms now would be difficult. An army, once raised, is like a sword that will not return to its sheath until it has tasted blood. I believe caution is warranted.”

Paolo cautiously offered his opinion. As always, he never said anything unreasonable.

Without thinking, Ricardt glanced at Bori. Their eyes met.

But Ricardt could not keep relying on the easy solution, and this was no street criminal organization they were dealing with. Their potential opponents were dukes and counts. He could not simply send Bori after them on a whim.

Ricardt considered the matter for a moment before speaking.

“First, we'll issue rewards. The Border Knight, the village chief, and the shepherd boy will all be rewarded. Paolo, determine suitable amounts and pass the matter to Ray. Then assemble a survey team and determine whether there truly is a gold vein.”

“Understood.”

Ricardt waved a hand, signaling that the meeting was over. The members of the Advisory Council filed out together, leaving only Bori and Marie behind.

“What are you going to do?”

Marie asked as she sat down, her belly now beginning to show.

“Starting a war over gold would be a bit much, wouldn't it?”

“It's not just gold. It's a gold mine.”

“We don't even know for certain that there is one yet, do we?”

Bori said as he casually gathered the grains of gold up for himself.

“True. We don't know for certain yet. That's what makes this so difficult.”

Ricardt had no feud with Duke Frederia. Even while Adeloron had been engulfed in civil war, the duke had never taken advantage of the situation to harass him from the side or pressure him for concessions.

That was precisely why Ricardt was reluctant to make the first move, and even if he did, deciding how far to go was difficult.

Would he truly wage war? If not, should he seek a diplomatic solution? Should he simply hope they never learned about the gold mine? Or perhaps resort to assassination.

“Why don't you consult Paolo?”

Marie suggested it. Paolo was a highly useful man whom Ricardt kept at his side, but the two had never been particularly close.

They had never shared private confidences either. Ricardt had deliberately kept things that way, but perhaps this matter warranted consultation.

After all, Ricardt specialized in fighting opponents openly. When it came to weaving plots or maneuvering behind the scenes, he was no expert.

Where there was light, there was shadow. A king needed to understand how to use both.

Besides, Ricardt had already resorted to assassination from the shadows before. If necessary, he was willing to employ underhanded methods again. Just how dirty he was willing to get remained to be seen.

Ricardt spoke to Roy, who was standing beside Bori and examining the grains of gold.

“Go bring Paolo back.”

Roy, dressed neatly in the fine clothes befitting a Royal Attendant, scampered out of the meeting room. A short while later, Paolo returned.

Only Ricardt, Marie, Bori, Roy, and Paolo remained in the room. It seemed like just the right number of people for a conspiracy, though the spring sunlight pouring through the windows was far too clear and bright for such things.

Everyone had settled wherever they found comfortable instead of sitting in their formal places as they had during the official meeting. Ricardt stood beside the window and crooked a finger, beckoning Paolo over. Then he rested a hand on the large man's back and spoke.

“You haven't felt slighted because I've deliberately kept you at a distance all this time, have you?”

“No. You are doing exactly as you should.”

“Really?”

“Pardon?”

“You're telling me you don't resent it at all?”

“The moment one begins to harbor resentment toward a king, one begins hastening one's own death. I shall aid and advise you with all sincerity, but keeping personal feelings out of it is the secret to a long life. It will benefit the merchant company as well.”

Paolo had never once tried to conceal what drove him. He openly admitted that he acted for profit.

And because he was exceptionally capable on top of that, it was almost as though he were confidently naming his price and asking whether Ricardt truly intended to pass up something as valuable as him.

Ricardt did find that aspect of him somewhat distasteful, but it was also true that Paolo had never disappointed him even once and had brought enormous benefits both to Ricardt and to the kingdom.

“This time, I'd like to trust you with something. Just this once. Can I?”

“I will do my utmost.”

“You heard what we were saying about the gold mine earlier. In your view, is it better to leave Duke Frederia alone, or should we make the first move?”

“As Your Majesty well knows, a great commander goes into battle having already secured victory. Business is no different. A man who does nothing and merely hopes matters proceed favorably is no businessman.”

“Then would diplomacy be better, or should we gather troops and openly threaten him?”

“Set them against each other. Duke Brummbar supports the Second Imperial Prince, but his power has weakened since his defeat in the last battle. Induce Duke Frederia to strike him from behind. He will then have no attention to spare for a gold mine. While that is happening, we build a fortress along the frontier and strengthen our defenses. By the time he discovers what has happened, he will be unable to do anything about it.”

It sounded like a plausible plan. The problem was how to set them against each other in the first place.

“He's had an army gathered for an entire year without making a move. Will he really be so easy to manipulate?”

“The way to move a coward is to prick his pride. They are the sort who agonize at length only to make foolish decisions in the end. There is, however, something else that concerns me.”

“What is it?”

“Stormhertz.”

“What about it?”

“The Caldebern count's house is a vassal of Duke Brummbar, and the Stormhertz branch of the Caldebern Family follows the count's house, does it not? I am referring to Your Majesty's father. The previous battle against the Second Imperial Prince took place elsewhere, but if we succeed in setting them against each other, Stormhertz itself may become a battlefield.”

As though bringing the conversation to a halt, Ricardt turned his head away. The hand he had rested on Paolo's back fell to his side. His gaze remained fixed on the sunlit wall, lost in thought.

Marie and Bori had heard Paolo's words, but neither offered an opinion. They remained silent.

Ricardt did not flush, frown, or become angry. He simply stared at the wall. Dust drifted quietly through the white light streaming in from the window.

After following the floating specks with his eyes for a moment, he spoke.

“Let me ask you one thing. Paolo, what do you consider most important when making a decision?”

“Price. I put a price on everything, visible and invisible alike. War supplies, labor, time, the anticipated future, the profit that could be gained from pursuing another course, and the value of human lives as well. People I have never met, people close to me, even family. Once everything has been assigned a price, I choose whichever course results in the least loss or the greatest profit.”

Depending on how one took it, it was a rather shocking thing to hear. A brief silence followed Paolo's cold words.

“......If I entrust this to you, are you confident you can succeed?”

“As I have always said, I can only do my utmost. However, I have never failed in business.”

“I understand. You may go.”

Ricardt lowered his head as he spoke without even looking at Paolo. Paolo bowed to Ricardt and withdrew once more.

Bori sat crookedly in his chair with one leg crossed over the other and spoke.

“One thing's certain.”

“What?”

Marie asked.

“He's someone you keep at your side and make use of, but never let close.”

That was something both Ricardt and Marie already knew. Perhaps they had simply been reminded of it all over again. Regardless of whether it was good or bad, right or wrong, Paolo was simply cut from a different cloth.

“Are you going to do it?”

Marie asked. Ricardt remained silent for a long while before answering flatly. Of course, anyone listening could hear the complicated emotions hidden beneath that dry exterior.

“Yeah.”

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