[V14C15] The Ghost Outside The Window

Richard Konitz had surrendered, and General Strauss lost his cause.

All that remained was for General Strauss to surrender and withdraw the troops surrounding the castle. They would be apprehended and handed over to the Black Lion Emperor for judgment.

——Such was Bridget’s plan, but Henrik seemed to think that they should just kill General Strauss and his men.

This was Valmbelk, and Henrik was the lord here. He held the authority to punish the criminals who seized his castle.

In that sense, Henrik’s actions were not necessarily wrong.

(…But I can’t allow that to happen.)

Bridget kept an eye on General Strauss as she attempted to persuade Henrik.

“The lords of Old Solyarg territory are pulling the strings behind General Strauss.”

“Right,” Henrik nodded. “They’re cowards who plan to ride General Strauss’s coattails if he succeeds in taking Valmbelk Castle. And?”

Henrik seemed furious at those who hid behind General Strauss to avoid any risk to themselves.

They would take advantage of the confusion and rebel against the Empire if Strauss captures Valmbelk Castle.

But what if General Strauss fails? …Surely, the lords of Old Solyarg had considered that scenario as well.

“General Strauss is a hero in the southern part of the Empire,” Bridget continued. “Many feel indebted to him.”

“Yes, that’s true.”

“What do you think would happen if the lords of Old Solyarg spread rumors that ‘Margrave Valmbelk resented General Strauss for his accomplishments on the battlefield and murdered their hero’?”

“That’s nonsense. No one would believe them.”

Henrik shook his head with a look of exasperation.

He was a simple man who always did what he thought he was right.

Which was why he would never be good at politics.

“Blanquet-sama, whether you believe it or not is irrelevant. It can still become the trigger for war.”

The lords of Old Solyarg wanted an excuse for independence.

If General Strauss succeeded in taking Valmbelk Castle, then they would follow suit.

If he failed and was cut down by Henrik… then they would gain the pretext for invading Valmbelk.

“If you kill General Strauss here, then you give them the justification for war.”

Therefore, Bridget argued, they should capture him and leave his fate to the Emperor.

Henrik returned a wry smile as if to say it didn’t matter.

“In that case, I suppose my next job will be to repel the invaders.”

This was the fatal point of disconnect between Bridget and Henrik.

“Greyham-dono,” Henrik continued. “Civil war is an everyday affair in the Empire. A major battle can break out at any time. We go through our days prepared for that.”

Bridget was a diplomat who sought to avoid war, while Henrik accepted war as inevitable. If the lords of Old Solyarg raised the threat of invasion, then his only thought was “How do I fight back?”

A diplomat like Bridget could never accept that, or even allow herself to consider the idea. Hence, she must use all the arguments at her disposal to persuade the stubborn margrave.

“There are two things I have to say to you,” Bridget began.

“Two!? Um… are they going to be complicated matters?”

Of course, diplomatic talks were bound to be complicated.

Bridget took a deep breath and continued.

“First. Most of the Valmbelk army is currently on an expedition to the southeast part of the Empire, yes?”

“R-Right.”

“Suppose the lords of Old Solyarg put their rebellion into action. How will the Valmbelk army return to this castle?”

…Henrik let out a dumbfounded gasp.

The Empire was a vast land covered in many mountains. The Valmbelk army may be in the southeast, but returning to the castle wasn’t as simple as heading northwest. They would have to detour north around the mountains, then head west.

That route would take them through Old Solyarg.

But if Old Solyarg turned into hostile territory, they would instead have to make their way through the dangerous southern mountains, home to many dragons.

Cutting off the Valmbelk army from their castle was surely a serious blow to Henrik.

And yet, his only response was a slight frown and a casual grumbling.

“Hmm, that’s troublesome. Maybe we can think of it this way: the forces at Valmbelk castle and the returning army can launch a pincer attack on Old Solyarg.”

“…How do you expect an exhausted army returning from an expedition to manage that?”

“It happens often enough. I’ve experienced it a few times myself.”

The idea of “If our forces are divided, then it means we can launch a pincer attack” was not compatible with Bridget’s head.

But to Henrik, having their forces divided was, though not exactly welcome, something he could brush off with a “Oh well.”

He was so resilient to adversity that he could accept most things that way.

—— “The language barrier can be overcome through study. However, the wall of values is thicker and higher than any language barrier.”

That was what Bridget’s father told her when she decided to become a diplomat. She now understood the weight of his words.

At this rate, would her second argument even work? She was beginning to doubt herself.

Still, she had no choice but to try.

“…Second. Where does Valmbelk get its salt?”

“Huh? Eh? Salt? Uh, I’m not really sure…”

“I’m a bit particular about the taste of salt. I would say it’s probably from Bakryze in the southeast region of the Empire.”

An elderly man behind Henrik—probably a cook—nodded at Bridget, saying, “Yes, that is correct.”

The potatoes in the kitchen had been sprinkled with coarse salt rather than a fine-grained one.

Given the regions where such salt was available and the supply routes to Valmbelk, Bridget was almost certain that it came from Bakryze in the southeast.

“The blockade of Old Solyarg will affect more than your army. Your salt supply is just as vulnerable.”

“Eh? But the Empire has seas to the north and east. Couldn’t we just get salt from there instead…?”

As expected, Henrik had the completely wrong idea. He believed that having a coastline meant unlimited access to salt.

His sister Frieda interjected to correct his misunderstanding.

“Brother, there are no salt pans in the north or east.”

“…Huh?”

“The northern coast has issues with climate, and the east is mostly covered in mountains.”

“…Really?”

“She’s right,” Birendahl nodded regretfully. “We do produce some salt in the north and east, but not enough to export.”

In other words, Valmbelk was guaranteed to face a salt shortage if Old Solyarg cut off the supply routes to the southeast.

Bridget quickly exchanged glances with Albert, and after a brief moment of surprise, Albert returned a small nod.

Next, she gave Henrik a look of sympathy.

“…Even if we manage to resolve this situation peacefully, the Old Solyarg territories may still resent you. Perhaps they will place restrictions on salt distribution.”

“Eh!? So there’ll be a salt shortage either way!?”

Henrik shouted in despair, but then, Albert interjected to reassure him.

“Blanquet-dono! If you experience a disruption in salt supply from the Empire, I would like to propose increasing salt exports from Ridill.”

A faint glimmer of hope returned to Henrik’s eyes.

Valmbelk bordered Ridill as well. If the eastern supply routes were cut off, there was always the option of importing from the west.

However, that was only possible if the Empire and Ridill maintained friendly relations.

“A civil war in the Empire would also mean trouble for us!” Albert continued. “Particularly in the trade between our countries. Please, Blanquet-dono, let us settle this peacefully!”

A flicker of hesitation appeared on Henrik’s face.

He was having trouble deciding because, ironically, he valued loyalty over profit, just like General Strauss.

“Margrave Valmbelk,” Bridget said quietly. “Do you truly believe that cutting down General Strauss is the correct thing to do?”

“Of course I do,” Henrik replied in a soft, but unwavering tone.

His attitude was honestly infuriating to her. Still, Bridget suppressed her anger and maintained a calm tone.

“You call yourself a loyal vassal of Emperor Leonhart. So why do you refuse to make the best choice for the Empire?”

“…I am striking down a traitor. How is that not the best choice?”

“Because there are other choices more beneficial to the Empire. You are abandoning diplomacy and jumping on the easiest solution. What kind of loyalty is that?”

With his loyalty put into question, Henrik’s face grew stern. He glared at Bridget with the eyes of a ferocious wolf, but Bridget refused to budge. She glared right back at him.

“I will say it again. When I see men acting recklessly out of misguided loyalty, I feel an overwhelming urge to slap their cheeks.”

Bridget let out a deep breath and placed a hand over her chest, kneeling down in front of Henrik.

“For the sake of your emperor and your people… please, conduct diplomacy, Margrave Valmbelk.”

Henrik said nothing. A heavy silence filled the room for what seemed to be an eternity.

“…Please, raise your head, Greyham-dono,” Henrik said, sheathing his sword. “I’ve never been good at diplomacy, so I’ll follow your advice… I don’t want to get slapped either.”

His words eased the tense atmosphere.

Richard Konitz had surrendered, and General Strauss’s cause had been lost. Margrave Valmbelk had agreed to leave Strauss’s fate to the Black Lion Emperor.

All that remained was to detain General Strauss and his subordinates… but suddenly, someone dashed toward the window. A soldier in red uniform, one of General Strauss’s men.

“Stop!”

General Strauss ordered the soldier to stop, but the soldier ignored him and opened the window. Then, he used a match to light something on fire and throw it out the window.

“Glory to Solyarg!”

A weak explosion of white light popped outside the window. This was a signal to the soldiers waiting outside the castle.

Probably the signal for: “Everyone charge in.”

Apparently, that man was a radical extremely dedicated to the restoration of Solyarg.

In any case, the signal had been given. It was only a matter of time before General Strauss’s remaining forces stormed the castle.

Bridget went pale as she heard sounds from the open window. This was the first floor, so someone must be standing just outside the window.

Had the new waves of enemies already arrived?

“Oh, the window’s open… Thank goodness… Okay, I can do it… I can say it…”

The ghostly pale face of a man emerged from the dark window. His eyes were an eerie pink, reflecting the light of the candles.

“P-Please let me marry Frieda, dear brother-in-law!”

The room was dominated by silence once again. The bizarre scene left them all stunned.

The man responsible darted his pink eyes left and right, and for some reason, started tearing up.

“W-What? Why are there so many people? And some are wearing red uniforms… the same as the guys who were chasing me… W-Were they guests all along!? Oh no, what do I do, I already cursed them…”

“Ray!” Frieda shouted. “The men in red uniforms are intruders! Please subdue them non-lethally!”

How could she make such an unreasonable request?

Even the most skilled mages would have trouble targeting specific people inside a crowded space, and the non-lethal restriction only added to the difficulty.

Yet the purple-haired man simply poked his fingers together, twisting his lips into a creepy smile.

“…Oh, that’s my specialty… Hehe…”

He mumbled something under his breath, then conjured purple symbols from his fingertips. Within seconds, the symbols had ensnared all of General Strauss’s men, and only them.

Everyone touched by the purple symbols collapsed to the ground and started convulsing.

“This is a curse that paralyzes your limbs and makes your feet itch uncontrollably. All you can do is writhe in agony…”

Before anyone had the time to comprehend what just happened, someone let out a scream. The source was Teodor Blanquet, Henrik’s grandfather, who had been dozing off with sword in hand.

“S-S-Shaman…! There’s a shaman! Shamans are scary!”

The War Wolf of Valmbelk dropped to the floor, flailing his limbs in panic.

As everyone else stood stunned at the sight, Frieda proudly puffed out her chest.

“See that? Isn’t my fiancé just amazing?”

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