The Founding Monarch Became the Mastermind

Chapter 67

‘What does he expect us to do?’

‘We were against it from the start, but it was the Count who forced it through.’

The retainers, who were just as clueless as Count Pamel, shrank their necks and swallowed their complaints.

They couldn’t afford to reveal their true feelings in front of the Pamel Count, whose eyes were half-crazed.

Otherwise, their heads might literally roll, not just figuratively.

“Seven million Dien. That’s how much we spent just to hire those damned mercenaries and wandering elves. And on top of that, the money we’ve spent feeding those useless vermin loafing around outside? It’s already over two million Dien! In just a few more days, it’ll be ten million!

But why! Why haven’t we heard anything? Could it be… all of you are in on it, scheming to deceive me? Huh? Is that it?”

Count Pamel was now in full denial of reality.

The money spent to bring down the Si-on Duchy was significant, but what the Count couldn’t bear was the idea that his grand revenge scheme, a plot he had dreamed of for decades, hadn’t just failed—it seemed like nothing had happened at all.

He had planned to march his troops along the forest path guarded by the elven rangers as soon as Sanders and the mercenaries sent word.

Once Gede Si-on succeeded in claiming the title of Duke, the elven rangers would have no choice but to allow the troops led by Count Pamel, Gede’s in-law, to pass.

For about ten days after Sanders and the mercenaries left the castle, he spent his days excitedly imagining that glorious scene.

Two days later, he started feeling uneasy, but since wars (at least Count Pamel considered this a war) rarely went according to plan, he wasn’t too worried.

But as day after day passed, and now a full fifteen days later, there was still no news.

If plans had changed, or if the situation had completely gone awry, he should’ve received some kind of communication by now. Yet, the world continued on without any change.

“Count, wouldn’t it be wise to at least send the lords’ troops back to their original positions?”

One of the retainers cautiously suggested.

“We’ve already spent a fortune on the soldiers’ rations, but the lords aren’t keeping their men in check, and the residents of the castle city are growing increasingly dissatisfied. Even the knights are causing trouble—barging into civilians’ homes and committing outrageous acts, or wreaking havoc at inns and pubs.”

Count Pamel had four vassal lords under him. Following the Count’s orders, they each brought their knights and soldiers to the castle city.

According to the original plan, they were supposed to wait for three or four days before marching with the Count on the Si-on Duchy.

However, since no word had come, they had been stuck in the castle city for ten days.

Most of the soldiers, who were forcibly conscripted peasants from the lords’ estates, had initially behaved themselves. But as more time passed, they became increasingly unruly.

It wasn’t surprising that soldiers hastily assembled without proper military discipline were causing trouble, but the real issue was their numbers, which were in the hundreds.

Out of the 500 soldiers belonging to the vassal lords, only a handful were causing trouble. But even if only one or two out of every ten misbehaved, it meant nearly 100 men were causing disturbances in the city daily.

For the residents of the Pamel County’s castle city, which had enjoyed relative peace, 100 men causing trouble was an unprecedented disaster.

“If this continues, the residents may revolt. I believe it would be wise to disband the conscripted soldiers.”

“And what then?”

“Pardon?”

Startled by Count Pamel’s ominous tone, the retainer stammered in response.

“So, let’s say we disband them. What if we hear from Sanders tomorrow? Should we call those conscripted peasants back in a single day? Do you think that’s possible?”

“Well… I-I meant…”

“If you think you can do it, I’ll immediately order the vassals to disband the soldiers. What do you say? Are you confident?”

“…I apologize.”

The retainer, who had spoken up with conviction and courage, had no choice but to back down.

“There will be no disbanding. We wait three more days. If there’s no news by then… we’ll march on Si-on ourselves.”

“As you command, my lord!”

The retainers swallowed nervously and shouted in agreement to Count Pamel’s declaration.

Thus, the Count wasted three more days, spending a total of ten million Dien—an astronomical amount that equaled 30% of the county’s annual revenue—before finally deciding to move his army.

However, before the Count could carry out his decision, it was halted.

A messenger from the Si-on Ducal family arrived, carrying an official letter stamped with the Duke’s seal.

The content of the letter, despite being filled with elegant and grandiloquent expressions, could be boiled down to one simple message:

– Wait there with your neck ready.

“Arrrggghhh!!!”

Count Pamel let out a wild scream, torn between rage over his grand plan falling apart and despair at the realization that even more money would have to be spent.

* * *

“Your Grace.”

“Just call me Si-on. I was once a Duke, but not anymore.”

“Then… Sir Si-on.”

Friel, who was traveling with Si-on along with the Northern Mountain Elf Rangers, nodded and continued speaking.

“There are a few things I’m curious about. May I ask you some questions?”

“Go ahead.”

“The traitor you executed. Why didn’t he make a move right after Duke Brian died?”

Elves were typically emotionless and rational, which was why Friel couldn’t understand Gede.

“His older brother died, and then his nephews followed one by one. But he couldn’t just step in and claim the title. Gede needed a justification. And that justification comes with time, as chaos ensues. That bastard was clever enough to think a year of waiting would be enough.”

“I see. Then, if Sir Si-on had not returned, would Gede Si-on have become Duke?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Friel tilted his head in confusion at Si-on’s firm response, which came without a moment’s hesitation.

“He underestimated the kids in Fland and Rozin. He thought that once he got rid of that foolish Blint, everything would be his.”

“Fland and Rozin…?”

“They’re towns I left in the hands of my sons. Well, they’ve become proper cities in the last thirty years.”

Though not as large as Sionia or Paloma, Fland and Rozin had grown into respectable cities with populations exceeding 20,000.

When including the surrounding towns and villages, they formed one of the largest territories within the Si-on Duchy.

“Then why didn’t the direct descendants of those two cities take any action?”

Friel, who had spent his life as a ranger, knew little about the internal workings of the Duchy despite being raised in the Northern Mountains.

Actually, it wasn’t just Friel.

Most of the elves, except for the small number dispatched to the Ducal family, were in the same boat.

“Those kids have administrative authority, but no military power. What could they do with only about a hundred guards? Besides, they must submit to regular audits from tax collectors sent from Sionia, so they couldn’t even raise their own troops.”

“I find it even more puzzling. Couldn’t Gede have easily taken control of those two cities?”

“The kids in Fland and Rozin likely raised formal objections.”

“…?”

“Gede could deal with Blint because Blint’s mother had committed sacrilege, even though it was a scheme orchestrated by Gede. Still, Gede had justification against Blint. But if the kids in Fland and Rozin raised formal objections, Gede would have had no choice but to listen.”

Si-on continued, swatting away a fly buzzing around Blackie’s head.

“The moment Gede acknowledges the objections, it becomes difficult for him to take control of those cities by force. Why? Because I personally ordered those cities to be established.

In the end, Gede would likely resort to force, but the real army of the Si-on Duchy, like the Black Eagle Regiment, wouldn’t just stand by. Neither would you Northern Mountain elves.”

“…I see.”

Friel, who had been struggling to grasp half of what Si-on was saying, finally understood.

“So a real civil war without any justification would’ve broken out. We elves, bound by our blood oath to you, would have stepped in to mediate the conflict.”

“Exactly. Blint committed the insane act of poisoning his father and brothers, so even if Gede punished him, neither the Duchy’s army nor the elves bound by the blood oath could intervene. But Fland and Rozin are different.

In the end, Gede would have found himself facing not only the Duchy’s army but also the elves, all refusing to obey him. Who would recognize him as Duke then?”

“That’s why you answered so decisively.”

“At best, only the fools following Gede would have called him ‘Your Grace.’ The Duchy would have splintered into factions, and you elves might have either chosen to support Fland or Rozin, or declared independence altogether.”

“…We probably would’ve chosen the latter.”

“Right. That would’ve been the better option.”

Though Si-on had saved them, the elves had already fulfilled their responsibility by serving the Duchy for so long.

Asking the elves, after all these years, to choose sides in a divided Duchy, even to the point of taking up arms against fellow descendants, would have been cruel.

Si-on genuinely believed this.

Perhaps that sincerity was conveyed?

“Sir Si-on…”

Friel gazed at Si-on with a rare display of emotion.

“Why are you looking at me like that? You’re making me uncomfortable.”

“I used to think of you as someone who never let go of anything once it was in your hands. But it turns out, you’re a man who still has a conscience.”

“…That’s a bit rude.”

“My apologies.”

The elf, not looking the least bit sorry, bowed slightly and continued speaking.

“One last question. I understand that Sir Si-on could easily deal with the Pamel Count’s family on your own, but why did you bother to declare war and give them time to prepare?”

To Friel, it seemed like an unnecessary act.

Why give the enemy a polite warning, allowing them time to prepare?

Especially when they were the ones who had schemed a dishonorable surprise attack in the first place—why show them any courtesy?

“Do you really think I gave them time?”

“Excuse me? Didn’t you?”

Si-on laughed.

“Haha. I suppose it’s natural to think that way. But no, I didn’t give them time. I forced them to suffer.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Not only Friel but also the other elf rangers listening to their conversation looked puzzled as they glanced at Si-on.

“They’ve conscripted hundreds of peasants, feeding and sheltering them, right? Now that I’ve declared war, they can’t send those peasants home. They’ll have to keep doing that until I—no, until the Duchy’s forces—arrive.”

“…!”

“Let’s see. Should I drag this out for about ten more days? How much more money will they have to spend?

While they wait, terrified and anxious for the Duchy’s forces to arrive, more of their conscripted peasants will desert or cause trouble. Isn’t that killing two birds with one stone? Huh? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Si-on, grinning slyly, asked in confusion.

Friel, his expression turning back to his usual emotionless state, replied.

“I take back what I said earlier.”

“What you said earlier?”

“I was wrong. Sir Si-on, you’re not an ordinary man with a conscience after all.”

“…Hey, that’s even ruder.”

Feeling slightly hurt, the old monster seemed a bit embarrassed.

It wasn’t even summer.