Chapter 64: Presidential Government - The King of the Wasteland (1)
The report sent by the border guard of the southern mountains was quite,
exceptionally unusual.
An orc claiming to be the King of the Wasteland had requested a dialogue with
our high-ranking officials.
In Francia, the image of a barbarian tribe was that of a primitive beast
incapable of conversation, but according to the border guard’s report, they
had already sent several arrows with letters written in our language.
It was an interesting event, but no one in the National Assembly was
particularly keen on traveling all the way to the southern mountains to meet
with an orc face-to-face.
Even the nobles of the Central Party reacted more negatively than other
members.
Unlike most Francia nobles who had learned about the history of this country
fighting against barbarian tribes as knights, I, being closer to a merchant
due to Christine and the former Duke’s influence, had a different perspective.
Ignoring their request without listening could lead to unpredictable
consequences, so as the commander of the Southern Army and a member of the
Assembly, I was appointed to go.
As I rode south, I was deep in thought.
Had something like this happened before my regression?
Back then, I was neither the commander of the Southern Army nor a part of the
National Assembly.
But if a barbarian tribe from the wasteland had established a kingdom, rumors
must have spread in some form, and news should have reached the Lafayette
estate in the south.
Yet, I had never heard anything about this until my execution at the age of
28.
The revolution had accelerated the collapse of the old regime by a full six
years, and it was uncertain what variables might have occurred...
But could the changes in Francia have influenced the barbarians of the
wasteland?
According to what Christine verified through the Aquitaine guild, something
was indeed happening in the wasteland...
“You seem to have a lot on your mind, Your Excellency.”
I turned my head towards the voice that came from beside me.
“Ah. It’s quite an unusual situation, General.”
Lan Gaston, whom I strongly recommended for generalship alongside Louis Dezy,
was still looking at me with the demeanor of my escort knight from before.
As a general, he had no obligation to accompany me this far, yet his presence
was both appreciated and burdensome.
“Ahem, ahem. I would prefer if you treated me as you used to...”
Gaston, who had actually heard me use the honorific language, opened his mouth
awkwardly.
“But now you are a general.”
“Before being a general, I am Your Excellency’s knight.”
Gaston replied without a moment’s hesitation. Even the most historical nobles
of the Knightly Kingdom wouldn’t display such a knightly demeanor, it’s almost
too much.
I chuckled quietly and looked back at the procession following us. Now, not
only I but also Gaston, as a general, commanded considerable escort.
- This time, I’ll ensure your loyalty is rewarded.
It was something I said to Gaston, who had just joined forces with Christine
to take over Aquitaine and was wandering the south with me in search of Eris,
not long after my return.
Having made him a general was a form of repayment, so perhaps it was time to
ask.
“Sir Gaston.”
“Speak, Your Excellency the Duke.”
“...May I ask why you are so loyal to me?”
It was something I had been curious about for a long time. After my return, I
treated him well out of guilt, but before that, I almost had him killed in a
knightly duel.
Afterwards, I never apologized and only regarded him with discomfort.
It was just a pretext; even if it wasn’t him, the Duke would have found some
fault to diminish my authority. At that time, I thought I had been disgraced
as a noble because I lost to him.
Yet, despite all this, Gaston remained loyal to me as a knight until he died
fighting the revolutionary forces.
Gaston, slightly embarrassed, scratched his head. The man, who was my peer and
the epitome of a silent and brave knight, now wore an almost boyish
expression.
“It might be a bit embarrassing to say...”
“If it’s not too difficult, I’d like to hear it.”
“As you know, my father was a mercenary. A job where you do anything for
money, without any honor.”
“Yes, I’m aware.”
After all, Raphael Ballian was also from a mercenary background. Though he was
one of the few with talent and luck, I knew most didn’t share the same fate.
“When my father came home, he would always say how dirty a job being a
mercenary was, like a mantra. He told me not to end up like him but to enter a
noble house and become a knight. That’s why, from a young age, I was
fascinated by stories of nobles and knights, and compared to mercenaries,
knights just seemed so much more admirable.”
I struggled mightily to suppress a burst of laughter that felt like it was
about to escape.
In the Kingdom of Honorable Knights, Francia, stories about knights inevitably
glorify and romanticize them, painting them as heroes overflowing with honor
and dreams.
Come to think of it, Gaston was also deeply engrossed in the stories Eris used
to tell, wasn’t he? Despite his incredible bravery, the naively honorable
knight scratched his head and said,
“So, I genuinely admired and strived to become an honorable knight. And,
fortunately, I made it to the knighthood, well, that is to say...”
“It’s alright, it’s in the past... Though late, I apologize. I nearly caused
your death.”
“Oh, no! If anything, I should be the one apologizing! I thought you would
dismiss me because of the disgrace I caused you. Yet, you continued to trust
me and allowed me to remain a knight of the Ducal House.”
I was taken aback.
It’s shameless to harm someone and then act as if nothing happened. But to
consider it a favor?
“From that moment, I resolved to become a loyal and honorable knight, to be of
help to you, who made my dream possible. Ahem, ahem, that’s all there is to
it.”
Such a straightforward and naive knight, devoid of any political motives.
I silently resolved to find him a politically adept advisor, and said,
“Then, it’s time to forge a new dream, isn’t it?”
“Pardon?”
I shifted my gaze from Gaston to the Lafayette Ducal residence and the people
waiting in front of it, whom I hadn’t seen in a long time.
“Look. These are the people you’ve protected by dedicating your loyalty and
bravery to me, paving the way for us.”
Gaston slowly turned his gaze to meet Baron Dumont and the servants who came
out to greet us.
Faces filled with pride and joy, a sight only possible because of our victory
against the Witch of the Storm.
“You’ve already surpassed any knight from the stories in honor and loyalty,
providing immense help to me and my people.”
To the point where my pre-return self seems pitifully unaware, I am indeed
blessed.
My fiancée was Christine, and my knight was Gaston; despite being unworthy, I
failed to recognize their value before my return.
And yet, I started this new life with the modest goal of surviving the
revolutionary turmoil and dying a better person than the Duke.
But now, it’s no longer just about survival. Like Christine, I want to protect
this country with Eris and make it a better place.
“I wish you could enjoy other forms of happiness too. It would make me feel a
bit less guilty.”
Gaston looked moved but scratched his head.
“Thank you, Your Excellency the Duke. But I can’t think of anything right
now.”
“Hmm, how about trying out romance?”
Gaston coughed awkwardly.
This reaction is surprisingly amusing.
“Why, you became a knight admiring the tales of knights. Most of those stories
include a lady’s tale.”
“Uh, Your Excellency the Duke.”
Seeing Gaston embarrassed, I chuckled.
“Alright, let’s drop it. But truly, I’d be happy if you found someone
special.”
I recalled the moments when Christine, usually so composed, would look at me
with softened eyes and a spreading smile.
Just the thought filled me with joy, and I sincerely told my most loyal
knight.
“That’s a happiness you have to experience to understand. I hope you find it
too.”
***
After a long absence, we could rest at the Ducal Estate of Lafayette.
Baron Dumont, now quite adapted, boasted a bureaucratic air befitting the
Republic, excitedly telling us how much the old Lafayette lands rejoiced over
our heroic deeds.
Though it felt a bit exaggerated, it was like being praised by family at home,
and both Gaston and I enjoyed our time.
After a day’s rest, we arrived at the Southern Mountains.
The magnificent mountain range that divides the Southern Kingdom of Francia
and the so-called ‘Wastelands’ of the Iberian Peninsula stretched endlessly,
with the walls of the Southern Fortresses visible along the range.
Following the path along the mountains and walls, we reached the gate from
which the messenger was sent.
“Welcome, Duke Lafayette. I am Major Jean Ocon, the administrator of the
Southern Fortress’ Third Gate. You’ve arrived sooner than expected.”
“Given the circumstances. Are you the one who sent the messenger?”
“Yes, Duke. It’s a relief you’ve come.”
Relief?
The way Major Ocon and his men, who seemed a bit frightened, said it made me
curious.
I instructed my party to unpack, and we immediately began our meeting with
Ocon.
“The parliament only received rumors, but is it confirmed that the barbarians
have established a kingdom?”
“I cannot confirm beyond the wall, but it is presumed so.”
Presumed. Just presumed.
“On what basis?”
“The wasteland is barren and dry, yet people do live there, albeit few. They
mostly pay tribute to the barbarian tribes that rule the area for protection.
According to them, a tribe claiming to have a king has been waging expansion
wars recently.”
“Hmm. Interesting. Paying tribute to barbarians for protection?”
Are they paying taxes to the barbarians instead of a king?
“Yes, that’s correct. But there has been an increase in those seeking refuge
here at the gates as the tribe that used to protect them gets embroiled in
wars or increases the tribute, according to verified information.”
It seems to be the frontier’s nature, learning things I didn’t know before.
If coexistence is possible even in such a manner, I might need to reconsider
my perception of barbarians.
“Moreover, most merchant ships heading to the Mediterranean pass through
Perpignan or Montpellier in the southeastern ports of Francia. Their common
testimony is that Porto is buying up a lot of war materials.”
This matches the information Christine gathered.
Porto is a small nation at the southern tip of the Iberian Peninsula, in the
wasteland.
It’s more of a city-state than a nation, but it’s one of the few places in the
wasteland where humans reside steadily, serving as a hub for ships heading to
the Mediterranean.
The Aquitaine merchant guild, based in the western ports of Francia, also
frequents it for maritime trade with the Holy Church.
“Hmm, so a city-state with no interest beyond trade is preparing for war, and
continuous wars among barbarian tribes are happening in the wasteland?”
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
I involuntarily frowned.
Even a brief listen is enough to sense a headache-inducing situation.
Since Francia expelled all barbarians from the south and erected a barrier,
there have only been sporadic raids and their defense at the frontier with the
wasteland for centuries.
But now, a state of barbarians has emerged in the lawless, tribe-divided
wasteland, enough to instill wariness in a city-state that has been a trade
hub in the south for ages?
The last thing I want is to prepare for an attack from the south while
potentially facing war with the Germanian Empire.
Fortunately, though.
“So, their king wants to talk?”
“Yes, Your Excellency. We initially intended to ignore it, but it’s becoming
increasingly difficult to do so...”
Major Ocon seemed anxious about my displeasure, so I reassured him.
“No, you did right in reporting this.”
The letter shot by an arrow, which I also received and read, was a bit hard to
decipher but was indeed written in our script.
At the very least, it’s a positive sign that they prefer dialogue over
immediate hostility towards Francia.
“But your subordinates seem quite terrified, why is that? Is there a military
threat from them-”
Before I could finish, a thunderous shout echoed from outside.
[When-is-the-meeting?!]
We’re clearly inside the gates, yet the air seems to tremble with the
power-packed shout.
Even as a knight, my skin crawls with goosebumps, prompting a chuckle.
“...So that was the reason?”
“My apologies, Your Excellency the Duke. That person intermittently pressures
us in such a manner.”
“Huh, shall we see this person’s face?”
I immediately stood up and headed outside.
“Your Excellency!”
“I’m taking the guard with me.”
As I rushed out of the room with Gaston, we climbed the stairs to the top of
the gate’s walls, where a lone orc stood below.
“Oh.”
Claiming to be a king yet alone. Quite bold.
This is my first time seeing an orc in person, though I’ve read about them in
documents.
They look similar to humans but with muscular green skin barely covered by
leather pants, and a fierce face with sharp fangs.
The numerous scars on his face and body add an intimidating presence, and he
appears much larger than not only me but also Gaston.
The orc, noticing my gaze, slightly tilted his head.
It seems he’s sizing me up, so I gather my magic and speak.
“Do you seek a meeting?”
“Yes!”
“Come down now.”
Instead of replying, the orc flashed a satisfied smile.
As I turned to leave, Major Ocon seemed even more startled.
“Your Excellency the Duke? What about the escort?”
I glanced at the soldiers on the walls, but faced with the orc king’s shout,
they looked pale, drained of blood.
“No need. Gaston, please take care of it.”
“Understood!”
Ocon was at a loss, but it’s clear. Bringing any soldier would be futile.
Now then.
Let’s see what the orc king wants.
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