Chapter 2: The Civil War Era - The Duchy of Lafayette (1)
"AAAAAAGH!"
The chilling sound of the blade falling from the guillotine echoed in my ears like a hallucination.
"Gasp, huff, huff..."
A sensation that should not be felt in the neck, as if air was passing through...
In a panic, I brought my trembling hand to my neck.
...It was still attached.
The image of my body, hanging from the guillotine, the last thing I saw, lingers in my mind.
My, body.
My body, without its head...
Almost reflexively, I stood up.
Where am I?
My room.
My room?
Not that filthy and dreadful underground prison.
This was undoubtedly my room in the Ducal residence.
Unsteadily walking, I saw myself in the mirror, my head properly attached.
"What is this?"
The reflection in the mirror showed me looking barely in my late teens.
***
The maid came to wake me up, surprised to find me already awake, and brought me water for washing.
Instead of being locked up, smelling the cold dampness and mold of a prison, I was in a warm room, washing my face with clean water.
Is this a dream?
Memories of battling in the field, without a moment to change clothes, imprisoned in an underground dungeon, and the memories of my boyhood, always assisted by maids in dressing, blend in a bizarrely unique sensation.
Was this some kind of illusion, the last thing I see as a beheaded man?
Repeating the daily life I had in the mansion more than a decade ago.
Just blankly washing, dressing, and heading to the dining room upon being informed that breakfast was ready.
In the dining room, a luxurious meal, unimaginable in the battlefield or prison, awaited.
Well-cooked chicken and vegetables, warm soup, and soft, white bread.
I remembered the taste of the hard bread eaten by commoners, the last meal I had.
It didn't feel real, and I hesitated to eat; the butler cautiously called out to me.
"Young Duke?"
Young Duke, yes. That's what I was called.
"Is there anything uncomfortable...?"
The butler, asking me this, seemed to be checking if my lack of appetite was due to discomfort.
"No, nothing at all."
And then, I noticed the maid standing in the corner of the room, waiting to serve me my meal.
A young girl, resembling the woman who had last brought me bread.
Had it been about ten years ago, she might have looked like this.
"What is your name?"
"Je...Jessie, Young Duke."
The girl, seemingly never having imagined being asked such a question, responded with a startle.
- "Your Grace. Among those you so proudly claim to have protected and cared for in your territory, do you even know a single name?"
The mocking laughter and jeers of the crowd surrounding the guillotine rang in my ears like hallucinations.
Jessie. A name I wouldn't have bothered to learn before, now firmly etched in my mind.
I then picked up a piece of white bread.
Feeling its soft texture as something unfamiliar, I slowly dipped it in the soup and put it in my mouth.
The soft, warm taste slowly spread in my mouth.
Only then did it strike me as reality.
"Yo...Young Duke?"
I couldn't stop the tears from flowing.
"...I'm back."
***
In the Kingdom of Francia, a land of knights, chaos reigned.
Normally, the heir to the throne should be the eldest son, but the late king, known as the King of Knights for his bravery and fiery temperament, did not favor his politically adept and extremely aristocratic first prince.
On the other hand, the second prince, a valiant knight himself who had earned his, the king's, favor by distinguishing himself in the war against the Germanian Empire, was his preference.
Naturally, the late king wanted to appoint the second prince as his successor, but the first prince, leveraging his political acumen, had gained the support of nobles who disliked the aggressive monarch, thereby keeping both the king and the second prince in check.
Thus, with the first prince leading a noble faction and the second prince a royalist faction, the succession became a source of conflict. Unfortunately, the king died suddenly in this tense situation.
Both princes naturally claimed their right to the throne, and the factional dispute soon escalated into a civil war.
This civil war, now engulfing the entire Kingdom of Francia, had been raging for three long years.
***
"Uh, are you really sure about this, Young Duke?"
Baron Robert de Dumont, a portly man who looked about my father's age, mopped his brow with a handkerchief and asked.
Summer must be tough for those who are overweight...
"What do you mean?"
"It's just that, with the Duchy already short on troops, sending out our precious cavalry..."
My father, Duke Hubert de Lafayette, a key figure in the First Prince's faction, was currently leading the army near the capital, Lumière, managing the civil war.
The reason why my father, the Duchy's most formidable knight known as the 'Blue Knight', sided with the noble and political First Prince rather than the second, who had the knights' support, goes back to when he first became a knight.
Back then, we weren't a ducal family.
My father, initially a mere knight, earned his title and the honor of 'Blue Knight' through his overwhelming bravery.
However, as a newly risen high noble, he inevitably faced the resistance of established nobility, and our family, the Lafayettes, were essentially marginalized in the central political arena.
After the civil war broke out, with most knights and military leaders siding with the Second Prince, the desperate First Prince wooed my family with various privileges.
Thus, while my father assisted the First Prince in the war with the main forces from the north, I was left to manage our southern duchy, quite far from the main battleground.
And I had ordered the remaining light cavalry in our territory to scout the borders.
"The cavalry left in our territory are merely light troops. Besides, if we are to be attacked, those patrolling will surely spot it first."
"That is true, but..."
The Baron, continually dabbing at his sweat, looked at me with a somewhat odd expression.
Normally, I wouldn't have been so proactive.
In the knightly kingdom of Francia, my managing the duchy during the civil war as the heir indicates not so much trust but rather that the Duke didn't deem me capable enough to join him on the battlefield and earn glory.
For the Baron, who had been assisting me and overseeing the duchy's administration while the Duke was away, my sudden change must seem startling.
"Don't worry too much. It's just a precaution."
"I trust you have your reasons, Young Duke."
Despite his face full of skepticism...
"Yes, I'll make sure you won't be disappointed, Baron."
"Cough, cough. Disappointed? Well then, I shall take my leave, Young Duke."
I watched the Baron leave and slowly closed my eyes.
A month had passed since I woke up as an 18-year-old, with the memory of being executed at the guillotine at the age of 28.
At first, I was confused, thinking it was a terrible dream, but now I had fully accepted this as reality.
Especially since minor meetings and events I remembered were unfolding just as they had, and even the news from the main battlefield in the north were things I already knew.
At this point, it couldn't be a coincidence.
I must have been killed by the revolutionaries and returned to the past.
I couldn't comprehend the reasons or the principles behind it.
But the resentment of not wanting to die like that in front of the guillotine, and the deep longing for another chance, were still acutely remembered.
And if that was the case, I must seize a different fate this time.
I opened my eyes again and looked at the orders from the Duke coming from the north.
The Duke, leading the main forces of the Duchy in the north, was, as expected, continually demanding immense military funds.
In my previous life, I had replied that we couldn't levy war taxes from our already plundered and depleted lands.
Then, the Duke had ordered either to collect war taxes or plunder the nearby territories of the Second Prince's faction for military funds.
But I knew a revolution was imminent. Knowing how the First Prince met his end, I had no intention of resorting to such methods.
But the Duke would never accept that.
Believing that if the First Prince became king, all his sacrifices would be rewarded, the Duke had bet everything on this civil war.
However, that dedication went unrewarded, and my father, the Duke, died in vain.
As his successor, I fought against the revolutionaries in my past life, but the nobles of Francia, touted as the strongest knights on the continent, were disastrously defeated by the revolutionaries.
Because the revolutionaries had an unprecedented genius general, Raphael Ballian.
This general, leveraging gunpowder weapons, which were almost obsolete against knights and wizards skilled in magic, employed brilliant tactics that the kingdom's army couldn't counter, leading to their continuous defeat.
Fortunately, I had been given another chance.
Yet, honestly, the thought of standing against Raphael Ballian himself and crushing the revolution seemed utterly impossible.
Throughout the long civil war, the cities, having bought autonomy from the king and nobility, made it difficult to preemptively strike at the influential leaders of the revolutionaries.
No, even before that. This rotten kingdom would have collapsed more miserably even without the revolution.
-"Kill them!"
-"Death to the corrupt nobility!"
Even when I close my eyes, I hear hallucinations filled with the crowd's madness and mockery that engulfed the city.
I had seen the frenzy and rampage that the revolution brought to Francia. In the republic that rose after the kingdom was overthrown, the number of people executed at the guillotine was no less than those who died in the civil war.
The revolution would occur in the fifth year of the civil war, two years from now.
So, while I would procure military funds as the Duke ordered, I must avoid excessively exploiting the people or gaining infamy through plunder during these two years.
Only then could I, as a noble uncorrupted by power, join hands with the revolutionaries as an ally of the common people. It was crucial to ensure that moderates, not radicals, within the revolutionary ranks, take power.
This was the only way to prevent the rampaging madness of the revolutionaries from drenching my people and Francia in blood.
In this life, I refuse to just watch everything I had protected be so meaninglessly invalidated.
Then came a knock, followed by a deep voice.
"Young Duke."
"Please come in, knight."
The door opened, and a large man in armor, bowing respectfully, stepped in.
Despite being about the same age as me, he was easily a head taller.
"Knight, Lan Gaston, at your service, Young Duke Pierre de Lafayette."
With the Duke having taken almost every knight, this man was the only knight left in the Duchy, besides me.
At the same time, he was a man who made me feel very complex and nuanced emotions.
Although he was the reason the Duke distrusted me, this man of commoner origin remained loyal to me until the end, even as the kingdom's army's defeat became inevitable.
After observing him for a moment and shaking off my mixed emotions, I asked.
"What is it?"
"This is a report from the light cavalry that was sent to scout as per your orders, my lord. A force of around a hundred, including knights, has entered our territory from the direction of Count Mirbo's lands."
"Raiders."
"Yes, it appears so."
There was no time for leisurely contemplation.
I sighed involuntarily.
"Summon the cavalry. We move out immediately."
"Just the cavalry?"
"Yes."
Knight Lan Gaston asked with a puzzled look, but if we were to summon all the forces of our territory now, just after the scouts had spotted the enemy and reported back, by the time we got there on foot, the village would already be in ruins.
To prevent the moderates in the revolutionary forces from being overwhelmed by the radicals, we need to maintain enough power to at least be able to support them. That means we couldn't afford to let our lands be ravaged.
As I thought this, putting on my breastplate, Knight Lan's stoic face showed a hint of surprise.
"Are you going out as well, Young Duke?"
"Yes."
I replied briefly, picking up my sword and bow.
What else could I do when the Duke had taken most of our forces?
I had no choice but to roll up my sleeves and get involved myself.
"We need to make those who dare to plunder the people of our Duchy pay the price."
?
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