Chapter 122 : Chapter 122

Chapter 122: The Secret Envoy from the Imperial Capital

The tiger comes when you speak of it, and not a single thing was off about that saying.

Bolero extended his hand.

Since parting in Easton, aside from a brief encounter during the battle with the spearman Draven, this was essentially the first proper reunion.

Clasp.

I gripped his hand.

The monstrous strength in his grip felt oddly familiar.

There was no need for long-winded exchanges.

A single glance was enough.

Flop.

Orlen and Cecil collapsed to the ground simultaneously, their legs giving out beneath them.

Orlen stammered, “Y-you… are you really Bihen Benkou?”

“That’s right.”

Cecil, who had been staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed, snapped back to her senses and hurriedly pulled a scroll from inside her cloak.

She glanced between its contents and me, nodding frantically at Orlen.

She must have been checking my appearance against a description.

Hopefully they didn’t draw me as weirdly as Warren did last time.

I was curious to see how they’d depicted me but held back and said, “Truth is, I’ve been following you two since the tavern.”

“The tavern… you mean, from earlier?”

“Yeah. So we can skip the preamble.”

This time, I nudged the fallen assassin with my foot and asked, “Why are you dragging these guys around?”

“…”

Orlen, still struggling to collect himself, rolled his eyes back and forth for a while before slowly opening his mouth.

“Is there… Perhaps a safer place to talk?”

“The place I’m at is the safest place. Just speak freely.”

Cecil stood up first.

She took several deep breaths before helping Orlen to his feet.

Both of their faces had gone pale in the meantime.

“The more I think about it, the scarier it gets. To think you were watching us the whole time…

Hoo…”

“Who are these people?”

I understood they were shaken, but I didn’t want to ask the same question three times, so I spoke with a slightly curt tone.

One more, and it’d be the third time.

“Their exact affiliation is unclear, but it’s certain they’re assassins sent by someone among the Imperial Capital’s bureaucrats.”

“Bureaucrats from the Imperial Capital?”

This time, Cecil stepped forward.

Her voice feigned calm, but it was clear she was forcing her emotions down.

“Right now, the Imperial Capital Aleos, including His Majesty the King, is entirely under the thumb of Chancellor Zisair.”

As she spoke, Cecil briefly cast her eyes downward.

Orlen’s expression was equally grim, his hands trembling as he clutched the hem of his robe.

“All that remains… is our Imperial Household Agency.”

* * *

Whether it was safe or not, this wasn’t a conversation to have standing outside, so I brought the group to my lodging.

On the way, they gave me a brief explanation of the administrative structure and organization of the Imperial Capital Aleos.

“Is it alright to tell an Imperial like me about such things?”

“…If we don’t, it’d be hard to explain the full situation.”

In the room, Bolero, Orlen, Cecil, and I sat facing each other.

A brief silence hung in the air.

At first, the two seemed wary of Bolero, but soon they began speaking as if resigned to it.

“The reason we went through such trouble to find you is to seek help from Lady Adeline… or rather, Duchess of Conwell.”

“Then why not deliver the message directly?”

“As you saw earlier, it’s impossible for us to approach her directly. That’s why we intended to convey the situation through you, her closest confidant.”

Adeline’s closest confidant, huh?

How did I end up in this position?

“Of course, we also hoped you’d lend your strength if the Duchess takes action.”

I’d heard something like this before.

It didn’t particularly make me feel good or bad.

Anyway, I let them keep talking without interrupting.

“We hope the Duchess of Conwell will become the leader of a faction capable of checking Chancellor Zisair.”

“…Are you urging us to start a rebellion?”

I slipped and said “us.”

That’s how much their words caught me off guard.

Cecil spoke up this time.

“We’re not talking about a physical confrontation. As we mentioned, the Imperial Capital is currently under the absolute control of Chancellor Zisair. The noble coalition around the capital, every administrative department, and bureaucratic organization are all under his influence. Even the capital’s military has its key positions filled with his people, and the Knights of the Capital, which have long been balanced between the Sharon Faction and the Langster Faction, are now plagued by escalating factional conflicts due to the Chancellor’s influence.”

Cecil, having rapidly spilled this lengthy explanation, paused to catch her breath.

Her hands, resting on her knees, were clenched tightly.

“…And yet, His Majesty the King continues to blindly favor and shield the Chancellor.”

A king manipulated by his vassal.

In my past life, the king was a fool who fled the capital at the first sign of war.

So this wasn’t exactly surprising.

But Bolero didn’t take it so lightly.

“I can’t believe it. To think such things are happening in the capital.”

“The Chancellor is a cunning man. He manipulates His Majesty like a puppet while keeping it hidden from view.”

Bolero roughly rubbed his chin, visibly shocked.

I quietly summed it up.

“So, you’re asking me to help Adeline—no, the Lord—enter the central political stage?”

“Exactly. The only one who can stop the Chancellor’s tyranny and restore the dignity and authority of the imperial family is the Duchess of Conwell.”

They say politics has its own arithmetic.

The logic of adding and subtracting legitimacy and self-interest is naturally hard for an ordinary person to grasp.

And, of course, I’m one of those ordinary people.

“Well, fine. If I get a chance to meet the Lord separately, I’ll make sure to…”

“Sir Bihen!”

Cecil suddenly raised her voice, looking as though she might grab my hand at any moment.

“We came here risking our lives…! Please don’t take this lightly.”

“If it seemed that way, it’s a misunderstanding and, frankly, your troubles aren’t my concern.”

“…”

I said as much, but it’s a field I’m unfamiliar with, and more than that, something about it felt off.

Still, ending the conversation abruptly would likely leave them deeply disappointed, so out of courtesy, I decided to ask a few questions.

“From what I’ve heard, it sounds like jumping into a pit of vipers.”

After a brief pause, I added, “I may not know much, but I do know the Kingdom’s ecosystem is quite different from the Empire’s. From the King’s perspective, a powerful vassal like Duchess of Conwell must be a thorn in his side. I wonder if she could even safely enter the capital. Given the situation, I question whether our Lord has any reason to take such a risk.”

My view wasn’t a stretch.

I already knew from the civil war that the capital and Conwell weren’t exactly on friendly terms.

Calling in a lion to drive out a viper coiled in the house?

When the master doesn’t even want it?

Well.

“Lady Adeline Conwell is related to His Majesty by blood. When she lived in the capital as a child, the two were very close.”

“…Is that so? I wouldn’t know the deeper details.”

“Duchess of Conwell is an upright person, so we believe she wouldn’t simply stand by and watch the imperial family’s crisis.”

A blood relation.

Doesn’t that make things even more complicated?

If anything, Adeline could even aim for the throne.

And by the way… a foul-tempered eldest brother, a wastrel second son, and now a dimwit king as a relative.

At this point, even Adeline was starting to seem suspicious.

“Conwell is already practically the suzerain of the Kingdom’s east. If an alliance is formed with the lords of the central regions, it could sufficiently balance the Chancellor’s power.”

“Hm.”

“The head of this coronation envoy is our Chief Attendant. With so many eyes watching, it’ll be difficult for him to mention this directly to Her Grace, but he’ll surely drop hints. We’d be grateful if you, Sir Bihen, could persuade Her Grace based on what we’ve discussed today.”

Come to think of it, Bill mentioned that the envoy for this coronation was quite large.

According to Orlen and Cecil, everyone in it, except the Chief Attendant, was one of Zisair’s people.

“What kind of man is this Zisair? There’s hardly anything known about him publicly.”

Bolero, who had been listening silently, spoke up.

I was curious too.

Orlen and Cecil exchanged glances, unable to hide their unease.

Orlen took a moment to steady his breath before speaking.

“Bolero, from what we’ve gathered, you lived in the capital before coming here after the civil war broke out, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“Then, while you were in the capital, did you ever hear the name Zisair?”

Bolero tilted his head.

“Now that you mention it, the name Zisair feels vaguely familiar. Even if my memory’s poor, you’d think I’d remember someone of that stature.”

“…That’s the kind of man Zisair is.”

“What?”

Orlen buried his face in his clasped hands, as if struggling to say something difficult.

“Zisair rarely steps into the spotlight. He always prefers to stay in the shadows. What’s terrifying is that it’s not an act—it’s his true nature. Yet, before you know it, everything revolves around him. It’s as if the capital has been consumed by fog.”

“…”

“No ambition, no malice can be felt…”

Orlen lifted his eyes, meeting mine directly.

“Zisair is always at the center of chaos. No, he is chaos itself.”

* * *

Bolero and I stepped outside the lodging.

First Kuhn, and now Orlen and Cecil…

A flood of information I could barely process came crashing in.

It was enough to give me a headache.

And on top of that, I’m starving.

Of course, I’d invited Orlen and Cecil to eat with us.

I suggested we go fill our stomachs first, showing some generosity, but they firmly refused.

The earlier attack by the assassins must have left them deeply shaken.

“Is it alright to leave those two alone like that? I’m a bit worried.”

“Let them rest, Bihen. They’re probably exhausted from their long journey.”

Challenging strange cuisine was out of the question, so, as expected, bread was the safest choice.

We found a quiet spot in the plaza, sat down, and amicably chewed on our bread.

“Oh, I forgot to introduce them. This is Deli, and this is Krnock.”

The two priests standing side by side extended their clasped hands toward me.

They looked about thirteen or fourteen at most.

Despite their disciplined gazes, their cheeks, puffed out like squirrels from chewing bread, were adorably cute. Their shiny, bald heads were a bonus.

“Your disciples?”

“Well, not exactly disciples. They’re talents being nurtured by the order. The civil war taught me a lot.”

To touch on that briefly, Bolero said he’d fought on equal footing with the spearman Draven that day.

But as the battle turned against him and he was pushed to the brink, Linda’s group appeared from the rear, saving his life.

“For now, I plan to return to the capital as soon as the coronation is over.”

“Hm.”

“And you? Staying in Conwell, I presume?”

Was it my imagination, or was he probing me, knowing full well my plans?

No, Bolero’s sharper than anyone.

He must be certain I won’t stay here.

“Since I’m already in the Kingdom, I might as well see the capital.”

“Hahaha! Good thinking, Imperial lad. I’ll formally invite you to our order’s headquarters. The Saintess will probably be pleased too.”

By now, Orlen and Cecil’s situation was drifting out of our focus.

Well, maybe that’s only natural.

Ah.

Then it hit me.

“Bolero, by any chance…”

“Hm?”

Carefully, while chewing the last bits of bread in my mouth, I asked, “Does the Solari Order perform exorcism rituals or anything like that?”

…Kuhn.

There didn’t seem to be much more to learn about the Eight Demons.

In other words, I’d gathered all the information I needed, and now it was just a matter of tying up loose ends.

As I mulled this over while staring ahead, I suddenly felt a prickling sensation on the side of my face.

When I looked, I saw…

Bolero’s face, filled with emotion, his deep, soulful eyes glistening with moisture.

“B-Bihen…! Are you finally hoping to join our Solari Order?!”

As expected, you shouldn’t say things out of character.

I waved my hands, changing the subject.

“Let’s talk about that later. So, you’re heading straight to Conwell City now?”

“Got to. I need to check on that Janson kid.”

“Janson?”

“He’s taking the rank evaluation this time. I taught him a bit about physical techniques back at the order.”

That jogged my memory.

Bill had mentioned in passing that Janson and Joel were taking the rank evaluation this time.

“Let’s go together. It’s Janson, after all. I should be there.”

Time to get moving.

I couldn’t stay here forever.

I started mentally organizing what I needed to take care of and turned back toward the lodging to inform Orlen and Cecil.

…

As I grabbed the doorknob, an icy chill ran through my fingertips.

Creak.

The moment I opened the door, a metallic stench hit my nose.

My instincts were never wrong, so I wasn’t surprised.

Orlen and Cecil lay collapsed on the floor, their forms so mangled they could hardly be called human anymore.

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