Chapter 391

“Make all the ministers stand with you.”

That was the condition the Queen set for Krang. Only after he fulfilled it would they discuss the throne. The Queen said it plainly, and Krang kept his word.

“Your Majesty.”

Krang looked at the Queen. The Queen looked back at him.

Encrid didn’t know this, but the Queen had no desire for the throne. She didn’t want power, either.

What she wanted was a quiet, peaceful life.

To look at flowers in spring, find shade beneath trees in summer, cool off, and chat.

To gather autumn leaves in fall, and in winter, to drink warm tea while watching snow fall beyond the window.

And if a good person could be by her side through all those moments, it would be better still.

All she wanted was time with someone truly good—not a marriage chosen to protect the throne.

It would have been an extravagant dream for an ordinary commoner, but she was the Queen of Naurilia. For her, it could be called modest.

As a person, the Queen did not suit the throne. She wanted something other than power.

And yet, she remained.

She didn’t evade responsibility. She did what she could.

At one point, she even wanted to divide power among the noble families, including the Vaisars, and leave.

“If you do that now, Naurilia will split into at least three pieces. Oh dear—each of the three will either be annexed by other countries or collapse. One might survive and become a city-state, but what did you say you planned to do with that?”

That was what Marquis Markus Vaisar said. He was the Queen’s teacher. His words were correct.

The Queen was like the last bastion of the powerful figures who still claimed to be something.

She couldn’t leave.

And she didn’t want to hand over the throne to a bastard like Count Molsen, either.

‘His late Majesty.’

Sometimes, on nights when she missed his father—

A gift sent by the deceased King would arrive.

“Crianath Randeus Nauril, they say that’s my name.”

It felt like seeing the late King as a child. He had much in common with him.

Krang sought the Queen out before starting anything.

He had to see her. He also needed to know whether the country called Naurilia was a place worth protecting—worth living in.

If not, he shouldn’t begin at all.

“The late King was full of love.”

Those were the Queen’s first words when she met Krang. She meant them. The late King had many women. Even with the Queen Consort and concubines, he often roamed.

It was almost surprising there was only one illegitimate child.

They talked. Then Krang left, returned to see the Queen again, and now things had reached this point.

“Did you ask the question?”

The Queen said there was one person left who needed to be asked the same question.

Whatever her dream, the Queen loved the kingdom where she had been born and raised. That was why she never turned away from responsibility.

There were three people she would ask.

One was obviously Krang.

The second was Marquis Vaisar.

She had even thought of placing the Marquis above the Grand Duke and slowly transferring the throne, but her teacher refused.

Later, she also considered the Marquis of Okto as a candidate, but Marquis Vaisar opposed that, too.

“It will fail, no matter what you do.”

Marquis Vaisar knew that to maintain this country, it needed a center point everyone could acknowledge.

And that center point had to be the Queen.

So the Queen had to ask Count Molsen one last time.

If he truly cared about the country, shouldn’t she hand over the throne even to a gray-ghoul-tongued man?

Doing what she disliked had become her specialty.

But she couldn’t even ask the question.

‘It’s become a joke.’

Just before he answered, the Queen thought that.

It really had become a joke.

She had tried to ask, but there was only one person left to receive it.

The two who were called great nobles had already sided with Krang. And Count Molsen, who could have been the subject of the question, had made himself a rebel. He was a man worthy of being called a hero.

Even so—

‘That method cannot be called right.’

What he wanted was the throne, not the country. The Queen saw that.

So there was only one choice.

“Did you intend this?”

The Queen asked.

Krang smiled.

“I only thought that those who love and protect the kingdom would be the ones left standing.”

In the end, it was Krang who created this situation.

He brought in the Marquis of Okto and finished speaking with Marquis Vaisar.

Whatever happens, if you survive, stand behind him.

Marquis Vaisar bent one knee. His old knee hit the ground with a thud.

“May this old body say a word?”

The Queen nodded.

With his head bowed, the Marquis spoke.

“Fulfill the Queen’s dream.”

He was the person who had spent more time with her than the dead King. Another father, in a way.

The Queen didn’t say anything. She only looked at Krang with eyes that revealed nothing.

Krang had proved himself. Beyond the cleverness of his method, it was obvious at a glance that every minister still remaining in the grand hall was on his side.

“Block the external pressure and punish the rebels. Then I will personally crown you.”

The Queen declared.

Encrid knew Krang had done all kinds of things to reach this.

Otherwise, it wouldn’t have ended like this.

More than anything, Encrid could tell Krang had already finished talking with the Queen.

‘He started this after he was promised the throne.’

“Take care.”

Krang said, turning away.

“I will. You do what you have to do.”

The Queen called out as she rose. Krang bowed and turned. Marquis Vaisar and the Marquis of Okto followed behind him.

Encrid and his party headed out as well. Just before leaving, Encrid looked back.

He saw the Queen reaching out to the side. It was a gesture toward a woman who seemed to be a court mage.

The gesture was filled with concern, as if asking whether she was all right. The mage waved her hand.

Was it his imagination, or did the relationship between the two seem unusual?

It wasn’t something Encrid needed to know.

“Where have you been?”

Encrid asked Esther.

“Some guy tried to seduce me into standing on his side.”

There was no need to ask who.

Count Molsen. Like he said himself, he must be a mage.

Encrid thought it couldn’t be helped if Esther left. But she stayed. Should he ask why? It didn’t seem like he’d get a proper answer even if he did.

Just because? Because she felt like it?

Still, he wanted to ask.

“Why didn’t you go?”

At those words, Esther turned her head.

She was on her way back after turning two half-baked mages—who had been chanting some kind of spell—into ash.

“I don’t usually listen to other people.”

Encrid thought she listened to his requests quite well for someone who said that.

Krang walked on, speaking with the two marquises.

Promises. Conditions. Words like that were exchanged. They spoke about predicting Count Molsen’s next actions and defending the capital with the troops of the two marquises. Ingis was with them as well.

“Your Highness, I have forces that came with me.”

He said it, and without hesitating, Krang answered in the same breath.

“I’ll give you a few fine horses. Rest a while, recover from your fatigue, and then return.”

With his usual smile.

Wasn’t the Count’s statement a threat?

The ones who had arrived were clearly a force, but Krang told them to go back.

Ingis seemed about to speak after a moment’s thought, but Krang spoke first.

“Block the threat from the south. That’s what you have to do.”

Ingis agreed.

He had bought about three days, but if there was nothing to do here, he had to return.

Stopping Count Molsen? Ingis didn’t think that was his job.

But from Krang’s perspective, wasn’t refusing the force called Ingis a major decision?

It was. It certainly was.

Yet there was no hesitation.

Was this what they called a vessel?

The Master had said so as well.

“It seems like a waste to break that vessel here. Go and help.”

Wasn’t that why Ingis had come all the way here because of what the Master said?

Encrid was a little disappointed to hear Krang’s words from behind. But it couldn’t be helped.

‘If I told him to fight once before going?’

That wouldn’t work. Encrid wasn’t Rem. He knew how to distinguish between right and wrong.

Ingis was a man who had run here from the southern battlefield without even wiping the blood from his armor.

If he knew fatigue and hardship, this wasn’t something Encrid should ask of him.

If someone else heard Encrid’s thoughts, they would tilt their head, but Encrid knew when to step in and when to step out.

That was why he had only listened until Krang spoke just now.

“Enki, I heard the Border Guards are being threatened. You can go back right away, too.”

Krang said from the front. Encrid nodded.

“It’ll be fine even if I don’t go.”

Audin was with the Border Guards, and Krys was there too. If things were truly dire, they would have sent word long ago.

Just because scouts were blocked, did that mean they couldn’t send any news at all?

That was Krys.

He would’ve already made dozens of ways to save his own life.

Above all, with Audin and Teresa there, even the Junior Knight who had blocked Encrid wouldn’t be able to do much.

And a Junior Knight with those skills wasn’t common.

He was definitely an overwhelming powerhouse.

The problem was that a guy named Ragna had shown up.

If Encrid compared himself to Ragna in his current state, Audin was the one most likely to fight him to a draw.

‘I should worry about the ones who need worrying about.’

Krys the schemer was with Audin.

After Encrid answered, the two marquises fixed their gaze on him.

“Why are you doing that?”

Encrid asked back nonchalantly. He truly looked like he didn’t understand. The expressions of the two marquises turned strange. The Marquis of Okto blinked, and Marquis Vaisar’s lips trembled as he stared blankly.

It was because of Encrid’s casual tone.

Seeing that, Krang chuckled.

“Leave him. I said he’s a friend.”

“Your Highness, your dignity will be damaged.”

“Others will be watching.”

Both marquises had already decided to serve Krang. Their words were reasonable.

But wasn’t their opponent Krang?

“If my dignity can be diminished by a few words, or by words from a friend I personally made, then I’m already finished as a man.”

A king must maintain his dignity.

A king must place everyone beneath him.

A king must be aloof and alone.

Is all that necessary to prove myself as king?

It was a question thrown at the world. Even now, Krang spoke his will and showed his vessel.

He was different. The weight in his words made it clear he was different from ordinary men.

The heavy atmosphere quickly dispersed.

“What if Enki gets upset at what I said and suddenly turns to the enemy?”

Krang said it playfully.

The two marquises’ faces twisted in an odd way. They knew Encrid’s skill. They also knew the mad company under him.

If they weren’t here right now, they didn’t know what would happen in the fight against Count Molsen. They couldn’t call the Royal Guard either.

No—they could call them if they forced it.

Sir Cyprus would probably come, no matter what was happening in the south.

Krang knew that, too. Still, he intended to stop this without calling them.

The immediate situation wasn’t what mattered.

Stopping the civil war was only a passing point.

Krang judged that he had to do it for what came after he sat on the throne.

First, the damage from failing to stop the southern forces—the Kingdom of Liechtenstein and the Demon Realm—could not be recovered.

Second—

‘If I can’t even keep my word, who will follow it?’

He and the Count fought with words. When they couldn’t decide victory or defeat, Encrid raised his hand.

It was ridiculous, but one thing was clear.

Since they couldn’t end it with words, they would decide it through action.

So Krang had to stop them without the Royal Guard.

He had to.

“You’ll help, right?”

Encrid nodded at the question said like a joke.

The two marquises felt the difference in vessels as they watched Encrid and Krang.

As expected?

Before they knew it, the moon had climbed high. Moonlight streamed in through the windows as they stepped out of the grand hall.

The fighting had subsided and things had settled, so there was no noise.

Some of the Royal Guard gathered and approached the group, then stopped.

A man in a dark gray helmet stood at the front.

“I greet Your Highness.”

He dropped to one knee. Krang nodded.

“You’ve worked hard.”

“…I’ll accept punishment later, and I’ll ask for forgiveness another day.”

“I’m not saying this because you sided with me. You did what you had to do.”

Krang said it and sent him away.

That wasn’t the end of it.

Most of those who stepped forward were friendly to Krang.

Encrid thought this was Krang’s power.

Those who knew him, spoke with him, and spent time with him had come to recognize the man named Krang. He had a way of drawing people’s hearts.

As he walked, he spotted a female knight with orange hair. One hand held her stomach. Her nose was broken, leaving her face strangely changed.

From the way she limped, she looked in terrible shape.

When she noticed him, she stopped and raised her head.

“Encrid.”

Her eyes went only to Encrid, not Krang.

A gaze fixed solely on him.

Encrid already knew she was alive.

And at the same time, he realized that today had finally passed.

Had the ferryman really said it would be fun?

It was an admission.

He had saved the person he wanted to save.

That alone was enough. His heart tickled.

Aisia—alive, moving, walking—stood there breathing through her mouth instead of her broken nose.

“Did you sleep well?”

When Encrid asked, putting all of that into his words, Aisia chuckled and clutched her side. It wasn’t an injury that would heal in a day or two.

“Do you know each other?”

Krang asked from the side.

It was Encrid’s turn to say that she had blocked him and stood with the enemy, but there were circumstances. Encrid opened his mouth.

“Junior Knight. You fight well. A little worse than me, though.”

At those words, Aisia’s eyes narrowed slightly, and that was explanation enough for Krang.

“It would be good to recover from your injuries.”

“Yes?”

“Because a civil war is scheduled.”

Krang said it with a smile.

He said it like an everyday routine, like they were simply going to share a meal.

There was no sense of crisis, but Krang was right.

It was the beginning of the civil war.

The Count intended to decide the outcome through war.

What exactly had he prepared?

Encrid found himself looking forward to it instead.

Whatever it was, he wanted to cut, slash, and stab him before moving on—if only to see the Count’s face.

Threatening the Border Guards.

Trying to seduce Esther.

He was a bastard with nothing Encrid liked.