Chapter 391

“Make all the nobles your allies.”

That was the condition the queen laid out for Crang. She wanted him to fulfill that condition before discussing the throne. The queen said this, and Crang followed through.

“Your Majesty.”

Crang looked at the queen. She, too, looked at him.

Enkrid did not know this, but the queen had no desire for the throne. She didn’t seek power either.

What she longed for was a quiet, peaceful life.

Her dream was to see the flowers in spring, find shade under trees in summer to cool off and chat, gather fallen leaves in autumn, and drink warm tea while watching the snow fall in winter.

It would be even better if there were good people by her side during all those moments.

In a way, it might be an extravagant dream for an ordinary commoner, but she was the queen of Naurillia, so it could be called a humble one.

A queen didn’t quite fit the image of the throne. She desired something beyond power.

Nevertheless, she remained.

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

At one time, she had wanted to hand over power to the noble families, including Baisar, and leave.

“If you continue like this, Naurillia will break into at least three parts. Oh dear, those three parts will either merge into other countries or fall into ruin. Ah, the ones who survive might become city-states, but what then?”

These were Baisar’s words. He was the queen’s mentor. He was right.

The queen was the last bastion for the powerholders.

She couldn’t leave.

Nor did she want to hand over the throne to someone like Count Molsen.

‘The late King.’

Sometimes, on nights like these, she missed her father.

A gift had come from the late king.

“Cridianat Randios Nauril, he said that was his name.”

She saw so much of her father in him. There were many aspects of him that resembled her own.

Crang had met the queen before all this began.

Crang needed to meet the queen. He needed to know if the country of Naurillia was worth defending, worth living for.

If not, he shouldn’t have started at all.

“The late king had an abundance of love,” the queen’s first words upon meeting Crang were sincere. The late king had many women, even though he had a queen and concubines, he often went off with others.

It was a surprise that he only had one illegitimate child.

They conversed. Crang left, came back, and met with the queen again. And now, here they were.

“Have you asked the question?”

The queen said that someone would ask it.

No matter her dreams, the queen loved the kingdom where she was born and raised. That’s why she didn’t shy away from responsibility.

She had three people she needed to ask.

One was, of course, Crang.

The second was Marquess Baisar.

She had once thought of elevating Baisar to Duke and slowly transferring the throne, but of course, her mentor had rejected the idea.

Afterward, she had considered the Marquess of Octo as a candidate, but Marquess Baisar had opposed that too.

“No matter what, it will end in ruin,” Baisar had said.

He knew that for this country to survive, a universally recognized focal point of power was necessary.

The queen had to ask Count Molsen in the end.

If he truly cared about the country, wouldn’t he be willing to hand over the throne to someone like a ghoul, if that was what it took?

She had grown accustomed to doing things she disliked.

But she couldn’t ask.

‘This is laughable.’

Just before answering, the queen thought to herself that it seemed absurd.

She had been about to ask, but there was only one person left to ask.

The two great nobles were already on Crang’s side, and Count Molsen, who could have been the last to ask, had already turned into a traitor. Count Molsen was someone who could be called a hero.

Still, she thought, ‘That method can’t be the right one.’

What he wanted was the throne, not the country. She could see that in his eyes.

So, only one choice remained.

“Did you intend this?”

The queen asked.

Crang gave a sly smile.

“I just thought the only ones left would be those who truly love and will protect the kingdom.”

In the end, it was Crang’s game.

He had the Marquess of Octo on his side, and he had concluded his discussion with Marquess Baisar.

Whatever happened, as long as he survived, he would tell them to follow him.

Marquess Baisar knelt, his old knee hitting the ground with a thud.

“May I say something, even in my old age?”

The queen nodded.

Baisar bowed his head and spoke.

“May you achieve your dream, Your Majesty.”

He had spent more time with the late king than anyone else. He could have been another father figure to her.

The queen didn’t answer. She only looked at Crang, her expression unreadable.

Crang had proven himself. The game he had set in motion was clear. It was evident that all the remaining nobles in the court were his allies.

“Repel the external pressure and punish the traitors. Then, I will personally crown you,” the queen declared.

Enkrid understood what Crang had done for this conclusion to be reached.

It was the only possible outcome.

More importantly, Enkrid could tell that the queen had already made up her mind.

‘So this was the work he began after he secured the throne.’

“Protect the queen,” Crang said, turning to leave.

“I will. You do what you must,” the queen replied as she stood and called out. Crang gave a respectful gesture and turned around, with the Marquess of Baisar and the Marquess of Octo following him.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Enkrid and his group also left. Just before leaving, Enkrid looked back.

He saw the queen reaching her hand out towards the court magician.

It was a gesture of concern, as if asking if the magician was alright. The magician waved her hand dismissively.

Was it just an illusion that their relationship seemed unusual?

Enkrid didn’t need to know that.

“Where have you been?” Enkrid asked Esther.

“Some bastard tried to convince me to join his side.”

There was no need to ask who it was.

It was Count Molsen. As he had said, he was probably a magician.

Enkrid thought he couldn’t stop Esther from leaving, but she stayed. Should he ask her why? He doubted he would get a proper answer.

Just because? Or was it because she felt like it?

Still, he wanted to ask.

“Why didn’t you leave?”

Esther turned her head at his question.

She had just come back from burning two half-witted magicians who were reciting spells, reducing them to ash.

“I don’t usually listen to other people’s words,” she said.

Enkrid thought she was probably more inclined to listen to his requests than anyone else’s.

Crang walked along, chatting with the two marquesses.

Promises, conditions, all sorts of talk. They were discussing how to anticipate Count Molsen’s actions and how to prepare the capital for defense with the troops that the marquesses controlled. Ingis was also with them.

“Your Majesty, I brought the full strength with me,” Ingis said.

Without hesitation, Crang responded, “I’ll have some horses readied for you so you can recover briefly and head back.”

He still wore that same smile.

Had the Count’s words not been threatening at all?

Even though Ingis had arrived with substantial force, Crang still told him to head back.

As Ingis pondered what to say, Crang spoke first.

“Block the threat from the south. That is your task.”

Ingis agreed.

Though they had bought themselves three days, if there was no more work to be done here, they had to leave.

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

But from Crang’s perspective, excluding his own force must have been a decision that required considerable resolve.

Indeed, it was.

Still, there was no hesitation.

Could this be his true character?

His master had said something similar.

“It would be a waste to break a vessel like this. Go and help.”

That’s why he had come this far.

Enkrid listened to Crang’s words from behind and felt a bit disappointed. But there was nothing he could do.

‘What if I just challenged him before we leave?’

It was an impossible thing. Enkrid wasn’t Rem. He knew when to step in and when to hold back.

He had rushed here all the way from the southern battlefield without even cleaning the bloodstains on his armor.

If he understood fatigue and exhaustion, this was something he shouldn’t do.

Others might tilt their heads if they knew Enkrid’s true thoughts, but Enkrid knew when to step in and when to step out.

So, until Crang spoke earlier, didn’t he remain silent and listen?

“Enki, I heard the Border Guard is under threat. You can go back immediately if you want.”

Crang spoke from the front. Enkrid nodded and replied.

“I don’t think I need to.”

The Border Guard had Audin, and Kraiss was there too. If it was truly a threat, they would have sent some news by now.

Even if they had stopped all the scouts, they must have had someone capable of sending a message.

That was Kraiss.

He probably had dozens of escape plans already prepared.

Besides, Audin and Teresa, with their skills, could stop any knight, no matter how strong they were.

And even if a knight with those skills blocked them, how many would be capable of doing the same?

He was an overwhelming force.

It was Ragna that was the problem.

If you compared him to Ragna right now, the most likely opponent for a draw would be Audin.

‘The ones I should be worried about are the ones who should be worried.’

Behind Audin was Kraiss, who was scheming.

Anyway, after answering like that, the eyes of the two marquesses were fixed on Enkrid.

“What’s the matter?” Enkrid asked nonchalantly. He seemed genuinely puzzled. The expressions of the two marquesses were strange. The Marquess of Octo blinked, and the Marquess of Baisar trembled slightly with his lips still expressionless.

It was because of the informal language.

Crang chuckled at that and said, “Leave him. I told you, he’s my friend.”

“Your Majesty, this will undermine your dignity.”

“Others will start to worry about how things look.”

Both marquesses had already chosen to serve Crang. Their words were valid, but the other party was Crang.

“If a few words, no, even words from a friend I’ve personally made, can ruin my dignity, then there’s nothing a person like me can do,” the queen replied.

A king must preserve dignity.

A king must have everyone beneath them.

A king must stand alone and proud.

But is that really how you prove yourself, to prove yourself as a king?

It was like a question cast to the world. In that moment, Crang showed his will and revealed his character.

It was different. The weight of his words could be felt in a way that ordinary humans couldn’t even comprehend.

The heavy atmosphere dissipated quickly.

“Now, what if Enki says something and then turns around and sides with the enemy? What would you do?”

Crang said with playful amusement.

The faces of the two marquesses twisted slightly. They knew Enkrid’s skill. The Mad Platoon under him knew it too.

If they weren’t there, who knew what would happen in the fight with Count Molsen? They couldn’t call the knight orders now.

No, they could call them if they pushed it.

Maybe Lord Cypress would come, ignoring the southern threats.

Crang knew that too. But they had to stop without calling anyone.

The immediate danger wasn’t what mattered.

Stopping the civil war was just a step along the way.

Crang judged that this was the best course for after he sat on the throne.

The first reason was that the damage from not stopping the southern powers, Rihinstetten and the magic circles, could never be recovered.

The second reason was...

‘If I can’t keep my own word, who would follow me?’

He had fought Count Molsen with words. When it reached a draw, Enkrid had raised his hand.

It was a funny thing, but one thing was clear.

They couldn’t settle it with words, so they decided to settle it with actions.

That’s why they had to stop without the knight orders.

Crang had to do this.

“Will you help?”

He said it as a joke, and Enkrid nodded.

The two marquesses looked at Crang and Enkrid and felt the difference in their character.

Was it really true?

Before long, the moon rose high in the sky. Moonlight poured in from the window outside the great hall.

The noise seemed to have settled down, and everything was quiet.

Some of the Royal Guards gathered together and approached the group, but then stopped.

The one at the front wore a dark gray helmet.

“I greet Your Majesty.”

He knelt down on one knee. Crang nodded.

“Good work.”

“...I’ll accept the punishment later, and ask for forgiveness another time.”

“I’m not saying this because you joined my side. You’ve done what you had to do.”

Crang said that and dismissed him.

It wasn’t over yet.

Most of the people stepping forward were supportive of Crang.

Enkrid thought this was Crang’s power.

Anyone who had met him, talked to him, and spent time with him, all recognized Crang. He had a force that could draw people’s hearts.

As they walked, Enkrid saw a soldier with orange hair, holding his side with one hand, his nose clearly broken, walking with a limp.

Her condition seemed terribly poor.

She stopped when she reached them and raised her head.

“Enkrid.”

Her eyes were fixed solely on him, not Crang.

It was a gaze focused only on him.

Enkrid knew she was alive.

At the same time, he realized that today had passed.

Hadn’t the boatman said it would be really fun?

It was an acknowledgment.

He saved the person he wanted to save.

That alone satisfied Enkrid. His chest felt light. Aisia, the person with the broken nose, was breathing through her mouth, alive and walking over there.

“Did you sleep well?”

He asked, holding all of it in.

Aisia smiled and then clutched her side. It was clear it was no minor injury.

“Do you know her?”

Crang spoke up next to him.

It was her turn now to explain that she had blocked him and stood with the enemy, but there had been reasons for it. Enkrid spoke.

“She's a knight, a good fighter. A little weaker than me.”

At that, Aisia’s eyes narrowed slightly, and Crang was satisfied with that explanation alone.

“You should recover from your injuries.”

“Eh?”

“There’s a civil war ahead.”

Crang said with a smile.

He spoke as casually as if talking about their daily routine, like offering to have a meal. There was no sign of urgency, but Crang’s words were true.

The civil war was beginning.

What had the Count prepared?

Enkrid found himself oddly excited.

No matter what, he wanted to cut, slice, and pierce his way to seeing the Count’s face.

Threaten the Border Guard?

Mess with Esther?

Nothing about him was likable.