Chapter 136, Return and Interrogation

Translator: Barnnn

 

Exactly as planned, the brothers returned. Loudipa was now officially the territory’s Lord, and Gruash, true to his word, was once again “his own man.”

And they brought with them enormous news:

 

“Long story short, the King will be replaced this coming spring,” Loudipa announced the moment he arrived, practically beaming. “Then there will be no more fools picking fights with Speraniessa! You can rest easy now, Ize. You’re free to marry me whenever you’d like.”

“Dude, I’m not giving her to you!” Hal exploded, eyes blazing.

 

Loudipa had barely stepped off the horsebus before he managed to provoke Hal’s rage.

 

“Dammit, Hal,” Fieda chided, trying to maintain decorum in front of the watching soldiers, “he technically is the Lord now, you know…”

 

Of course, Fieda’s tone itself was just a different brand of disrespectful.

Ignoring the impromptu proposal completely, Ize blinked and asked hesitantly,

 

“So… changing the King will stop the… persistent troubles this territory has been dealing with? That’s what you mean?”

Loudipa nodded. “Right. I guess you all aren’t that familiar with the nobility in this kingdom. Okay. Let’s talk about that. You good with this, Brother?”

Gruash gave a small nod. “Go ahead.”

 

The group moved the conversation to the reception room. Loudipa took the head seat, once Gruash’s rightful place. Gruash, in turn, sat where Loudipa used to sit.

Even small gestures like these made Ize quietly admire the shift in power that had taken place.

 

“Well, it all started two monarchs ago… so the grandfather of the current King,” Loudipa began. “He’s the one who really caused all the trouble.”

“Trouble?” Ize parroted.

“Yeah,” Loudipa said with a snort. “The fool fell head over heels in love. Classic case of love-sick stupidity.”

Ize flinched a little at the irreverence toward a former King, but she repeated the word softly, “…Stupidity…”

Drawing from all he’d heard until now, Hal made a guess. “Does this have something to do with a Hero?”

“Bullseye,” said Loudipa. “The King fell for a summoned Hero. But she chose someone else: the Lord of Speraniessa from four generations ago. They fought side by side in a Rank 1 Dungeon. After she picked him, the King couldn’t take it. He started to despise Speraniessa.”

Gruash let out a dry snort. “He saw the Deluge coming in this generation too, so he raised the current King with something close to brainwashing.”

 

The message: Never let a Hero near Speraniessa, where the Hero’s blood runs strong. The Deluge could be used as an excuse to turn against the crown.

 

Fieda, Ize, and Hal were stunned into silence.

 

Gruash noted their expressions and added with a bitter twist of his lips, “To make matters worse, in the Deluge’s generation, this territory’s heir just HAD to be born with black hair… With how young the current King was at the time, that must have terrified him.”

“It’s absurd,” Loudipa said. “He was obsessed with keeping power out of my brother’s hands, and out of Speraniessa’s reach. That’s why the King declared, ‘We will not summon a Hero.'”

Fieda wrinkled his nose in distaste. “I always assumed it was because of what happened with the infamous black-haired Hero… that they wanted to handle the crisis themselves. But it was all petty jealousy?”

“Exactly,” Gruash said with contained fury. “The citizens are the ones who suffer if the Deluge isn’t contained, and yet all the King cared about was his own position. Utterly foolish.”

 

Now it all made sense why Gruash had shown more hatred toward the nobility and the crown than toward Heroes when asked about his past. Everything he’d endured was rooted in the actions of that old King — and continued by the two Kings that followed.

 

“There’ve always been two main factions in this country,” Gruash continued.

“Two?” Hal asked. “The royal faction and the nobles?”

“Close,” said Gruash, shaking his head. “The royal faction is correct, but more specifically, they’re supported by the central nobility. The other side consists of the nobles who control Rank 1 and Rank 2 Dungeons — what we call the Dungeon Nobles.”

“What about the other nobles with Dungeons?”

“They usually side with the royal faction, actually. It depends on the location and the type of loot produced. If a Dungeon yields worthless items, that territory tends to rely on the crown. But the nobles who manage valuable Dungeons wield considerable economic power… that is, a Deluge comes. Then their power wanes. Do you know why?”

Hal furrowed his brows, then looked up. “Because they have to rely on aid, like tax breaks or supplies, from the crown or central nobility?”

“Exactly. A Rank 1 territory is powerful in peaceful times, but during a Deluge, its influence drops sharply. If the crown then refuses to summon a Hero — as they did to us — those nobles can do nothing but swallow it.”

“And you can’t just march into the palace and summon a Hero, I assume?” said Fieda, frowning, “Nobles… they really are exhausting.”

 

Loudipa shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. Technically, it was just politics, but anyone could imagine how hard it must have been without a Hero’s help.

 

Gruash added, “And it’s not just the nobles. Even adventurers are caught in these faction games. Some deliver Dungeon loot exclusively to nobles in their faction. Others gather intel across the kingdom on their behalf.”

 

Ize’s head was spinning. She tried to keep up, her thoughts scrambling to connect everything she’d learned — the adventurers they’d worked with, the political tug-of-war. She pictured Wardon and Volhelm, the two A-ranked adventurers. If they had to choose a side… they’d most likely be with the Dungeon Nobles.

 

Then, aloud, she asked, “So… the central nobility are the ones who were targeting Speraniessa, and also stopping Mister Wardon from getting his Detoxifiers, right?”

Loudipa grinned. “Yes, Ize! Bullseye! That was indeed part of a shadow war between nobles. Wardon and the others were just being used as cover. And you… you all blew their scheme wide open.” He threw out his arms dramatically, like an actor on stage. “There were royals and nobles who wanted to curry favor with the King. If the Deluge devastated the territories, the Dungeon Nobles would be weakened, and the central nobles would grow stronger. AND if Wardon’s party was incapacitated, the Dormancy Operation would fall apart. The central faction wanted that; they wanted everyone to NEED them. But now, with the King stepping down, the whole power structure is about to change.”

 

Loudipa’s eyes sparkled with genuine hope and joy for the new King.

 

“So, the new King…” Ize asked cautiously, “he hasn’t been influenced by the current one, has he?”

“There’s hardly any doubt about it,” Loudipa said with a thoughtful nod. “His Highness spent some time in Speraniessa in his youth, in the year before the Deluge hit. He defied all opposition and declared, ‘We can’t just stand by when the people must face this together.’ Even when the King himself was obstructing supply lines and strategic plans, His Highness ensured everything reached Speraniessa.”

Gruash raised an eyebrow. “I can’t exactly be grateful, considering the royal family was responsible in the first place… but still, he’ll make a good King.”

“I think so too,” Loudipa agreed. “He even wore Dragon scales at the party.”

“Scales?” Hal and Ize parroted in unison, tilting their heads in perfect sync.

 

The identical expressions made a strange, choked sound rise from Gruash’s throat. Loudipa giggled softly.

 

“Yes, scales. Fire Dragon scales you have delivered, and the ones Volhelm offered to supporters of your cause, too. There’s a whole craze among the nobles now to collect them. And there’s a rumor going around, too.”

“A rumor?” Hal asked, frowning.

“Well, since the Fire Dragon’s scales were used to negotiate with the nobles to help protect the Mandragora, the rumor goes like this: if someone possesses those scales but breaks the agreement…”

“Breaks the agreement…?” Ize asked, her throat tightening with unease.

“…They’ll be eaten by the Fire Dragon when its wings are restored in a few years.”

“Pfft–!” Hal burst into laughter.

“What!?” Ize’s voice shot up an octave.

“You’re kidding,” Fieda muttered, raising an eyebrow.

“They seem to take it quite seriously among the nobles, actually,” Loudipa said with a chuckle. “But if the Crown Prince is wearing them, that must mean he supports Mandragora protection, right?”

“I’d hate to see someone eat Mandragoras for no reason,” Hal muttered, “but it’d be even worse if the royally, the most likely targets of poisoning, didn’t get to eat it at all.”

“I don’t think they’ve completely cut it off,” Loudipa said. “Not in salads or anything. Probably in properly processed Potions.”

“Well… that’s fine, then.”

 

Hal let out a relieved sigh. The last thing he wanted was for a royal poisoning to be traced back to his suggestion.

 

“Speaking of Mandragora…” Loudipa turned his gaze toward Gruash.

 

Gruash responded with a subtle wave of his hand. The servants and soldiers — everyone but Shezel — left the room.

 

“Brother, there have been some strange potted plants in Sister-in-Law’s chambers. Are those carrots?”

“Ah,” Hal muttered, glancing at Shezel, who stood rigid in the corner.

 

Usually, the man would drop his formal mask the moment the servants left. But now, strangely, he remained composed.

Gruash leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his steepled fingers against his mouth. That alone was enough to shift the atmosphere; everyone in the room could feel the pressure over them.

 

“They’re not carrots,” he said. “They’re red turnips.”

“I see. Well, what’s your take on this, Hal?” Loudipa prompted.

“Me?” Hal tilted his head, feigning ignorance.

Gruash’s eyes narrowed. “Rossalie has been casting healing magic on them daily. Talking to them, too.”

“Wow,” Hal said, smiling awkwardly. “Sounds like she’s really attached.”

[Hal, hang in there.]

[Ize, help me out here.]

[We’re counting on you, Hal.]

[Fieda, don’t just throw me under the bus!]

 

Hal could almost hear the whispered thoughts from the others as they sent him utterly unhelpful psychic support.

 

“Shezel,” Gruash said suddenly.

“Yes, sir!” Shezel jumped, startled by the unexpected call.

 

Gruash hadn’t even looked his way, but his tone struck with pinpoint accuracy, like he was staring straight through him.

 

“What’s YOUR take on this?”

“Uh, well, you know Rossa! She is incredibly kind. Even to plants!”

“I see.”

 

Gruash fell silent, and so did the room.

 

“Ize,” Gruash resumed after a while.

“Y-Yes, sir!?”

“Bring Sato out.”

“You want me to summon Sato… here?”

“That’s right.”

 

Ize nearly leapt out of her seat, eyes wide. Under Gruash’s piercing gaze, she could do nothing but obey. With trembling hands, she activated her Magic Bag and lifted the little creature into her lap.

Sato, the Mystic Plant creature, had been introduced to the brothers before; that was why it had been permitted to help in the defensive operation against the attackers. But now…

 

“Sato,” Gruassh said solemnly, “did you enjoy the Dungeon in Speraniessa?”

“Kekyo!”

“Did you find any friends there?”

“Kekyou.”

“I see. That’s good.”

“Kekyokekyo!”

 

Gruash’s gaze softened for a moment as he looked upon the cheerfully rustling plant. Ize exhaled in relief… until Gruash spoke again.

 

“And did you return from the Dungeon with those friends?”

“Kekyo!”

“How many?”

“Ke-kyo. Kyo. Kyo.”

 

Sato, proud and helpful, tugged on the leaves on its own head like counting fingers.

 

“Three total… so, two new ones.”

“Kekyo!”

 

It was adorable. And honesty was a virtue, but…

 

[Sato, NOOO…!]

 

…Fieda, Hal, Ize, and Shezel all flinched internally, their hearts pounding.

 

“And do you know where those two friends are now?”

“Kekyo!”

 

Sato’s arms pointed confidently in one direction.

 

“They’re inside this manor?”

“Kekkyon!”

“Excellent. That’s very helpful, Sato.”

“Kekyo!”

 

Sato puffed up, shaking its leaves proudly as Ize stroked its head with affection.

 

“Now then,” Gruash said, his eyes returning to Shezel.

“Y-yes, sir!?”

“I wasn’t aware that Mandragora were living under this roof. Were you?”

“Um. I… maybe?”

“Shezel.”

“Yes?”

“You have two choices: a one-year ban from Dungeon crawling, or you tell me everything. Right here, right now.”

“Noooooo! That’s not fair! You can’t ban me! That’s a breach of our agreement!”

“Our agreement said: ‘as long as it doesn’t interfere with your duties related to the lordship.'”

“Objection!”

“Shezel.”

“Uuugh… I’m sorry, Hal…”

“Dude, don’t apologize to me,” Hal replied coolly, unfazed by Shezel’s watery eyes.

 

It was clear the game was up. Hal sighed and turned to Gruash with resignation.

 

“Look, it’s not entirely Shezel’s fault.”

“No?”

“Well, mostly. But still.”

“Traitor!” Shezel gasped, looking betrayed.

 

Hal stared back with the flat gaze of a young man unimpressed by a tearful middle-aged adventurer.

It was unfortunate, but everything had started with Shezel, after all.