VOLUME 15: CHAPTER 25

VOLUME 15: CHAPTER 25

The Duke of Mauko was among the most powerful figures in the southern continent.

As the ruler of the Dukedom, a single word could command thousands of soldiers to take up arms and march onto the battlefield. Their flag symbolized fear and authority, and they were regarded as a formidable force despite their small territory.

Well, it used to be like that—at least a decade ago, before the tragic civil war.

The scars of that conflict never fully healed.

The once-proud duchy, famed for its fertile fields and unyielding armies, had been bled dry of both harvest and manpower. Whole villages were burned to cinders, their farmers and craftsmen either conscripted, slain, or driven into exile.

Though the new Duke survived the war and obtained his title, the glory of Mauko dwindled year by year until only a hollow shell of its former strength remained.

Eventually, famine stalked the land.

The fertile plains that once yielded bountiful crops had grown weary and barren, their soil exhausted from neglect and overuse. The granaries echoed with emptiness, and the markets bustled not with abundance but with desperate haggling over scraps.

Whispers of rebellion stirred among the hungry peasants, while the nobles grumbled in private about their liege’s inability to provide.

The Duke bore the weight of it all.

His authority, once as unshakable as stone, was eroded daily by hunger and unrest. Where once stood a man who inspired loyalty and fear alike, now lingered a weary figure whose face seemed decades older than his true age. Stress carved his features deep, and his eyes, once bright with fire, now dimmed with fatigue and sorrow. He remained a powerful man by name, yet each passing season chipped away at the dominion he could truly command.

“If I’d known that we would end up like this after the civil war,” muttered the Duke inside his office, “I would have gladly offered my head on a platter to my older brother.”

Although Duke Ricardo had won the succession battle, it was a Pyrrhic victory that had cost them thousands of soldiers and dozens of indispensable government officials necessary to run the Dukedom.

Their little nation, once capable of standing its ground against the surrounding countries, had grown frail and fractured.

So desperate were they to claw back even the smallest measure of strength that they dared to dispute claims over the Mauko Plains, which bordered the United Grakas Alliance.

Some of his advisors had called it folly, warning that such provocation could ignite a war they could never hope to win. Yet the Duke pressed forward, determined to reclaim the land in hopes of expanding their territory, even if only slightly.

As long as their forces kept within the Mauko Plains and restricted the conflict to minor skirmishes, Ricardo believed the beastmen would not debase themselves by sending a full army in retaliation.
They needed that land. More than anyone else, the Duke understood why.

“We cannot allow the Mauko Plains to fall into beastmen’s hands,” he reminded himself. “Without it, defending our territories and feeding our starving citizens will be impossible.”

The plains themselves were barren and ill-suited for crops; the farmers stationed there were little more than camouflage for the territory’s true value.

Beneath the cracked soil lay an underground mana stone mine, hidden a few kilometers north of the plain’s center. For years, Ricardo had kept its existence a closely guarded secret, known only to a handful of trusted vassals.

The mana stones were the lifeblood of the Dukedom. The larger ones fueled the defensive cannons that kept their cities safe, while the smaller shards were bartered with the Kingdom of Thornforge for desperately needed grain and livestock.

If word of the mine ever spread, the beastmen would surely rally their strength and wrest the plains from Mauko by force. To prevent this from happening, they even went as far as to deliberately trade using only small mana stones out of fear of being discovered.

As Ricardo sat brooding over these thoughts, a pair of soft knocks broke the silence of his office.

“Your Grace, it’s me.”

It was the head butler of the ducal household.

“What is it?”

The man entered, bowing low before speaking. “Your Grace, Lady Beatrice has not eaten since yesterday morning.”

Ricardo’s brow furrowed deeply. His mind was already weighed down with matters of state, and he could not fathom why his own daughter insisted on adding to his burdens.

“She’s still refusing to eat?” he asked, his voice tight.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Duke Ricardo exhaled heavily, pressing his fingers against the creases on his forehead.

“That foolish girl. If she grows too thin, the King of Thornforge might decide she’s unworthy and send her back.”

Every year, the Dukedom was forced to offer a virgin woman to the King of Thornforge, parading it as a ‘token of friendship’ to veil the humiliation.

It was the price of peace, an unspoken bribe to keep Thornforge’s armies from marching into their weakened lands.

Last year, it had been the daughter of Baron Noel who was sent away.

This year, the lot had fallen upon the Duke himself. Fortunately, with five daughters and seven sons, offering one did not endanger the survival of his lineage.

Ricardo had long accepted such sacrifices as necessary.

For the sake of Mauko, he would offer blood and even his own life if it would secure the duchy’s survival.
What he could not fathom was why his daughter, Beatrice, refused to carry even a fraction of that burden.

It was a long-accepted custom that men would inherit the title and women would be married off to strengthen the ties between noble families or foreign forces.

As one of the Duke’s daughters, Beatrice should have long prepared herself for this day.

Annoyed that his daughter had become rebellious, Duke Ricardo personally went to her room to drag her out of self-confinement.
Upon seeing her disheveled appearance, the veins popped on his forehead.

“You ungrateful wench!” shouted Duke Ricardo.

“F-Father!”

“I’ve fed you and clothed you! And this is how you repay me?!”

If not for the fact that she was going to be sent to the King of Thornforge as tribute, the Duke would have slapped her face several times by now as punishment.

“Get up! If you’re not going to eat, I’ll personally shove food down your throat if I have to!”

The annual tribute was no simple matter.

If the King of Thornforge was displeased with the woman they sent him, he would cut off all forms of trade with the Dukedom completely.

Worst comes to worst, they might even attack one of the two cities as a warning.

Sending one of his daughters as a tribute this year was a small price to pay compared to the consequences they had to face if they angered the king.

Although they called it an alliance on the outside, in reality, the Kingdom of Thornforge and the Dukedom of Mauko were currently in a master–vassal relationship.

“Get up! What are the maids doing?! Why are they letting her rot in her room like this?!”

“F-Father, the m-maids have nothing to do with this—”

“—Listen.” The eyes of the Duke, which once looked at his daughter with love and kindness before he ascended the throne, were now filled with madness. “Although I can’t directly punish you, I can execute all of your servants for going along with this stupid charade of yours. So, make a choice, Beatrice.”

The eyes of the young woman shook, and she swallowed the words she’d been meaning to say to her father.

Looking at her father, she realized that he had now become nothing but a stranger. His obsession with making the Duchy prosper bordered on the insane.

Beatrice lowered her gaze, her hands trembling as she clasped them tightly over her chest.

She wanted to scream at him, to remind him of the nights he once sang her to sleep, of the days when he promised he would always protect her. But the words froze in her throat. The man before her would not listen.

Her silence only deepened the Duke’s scowl. He stepped closer, his voice dropping into a low, venomous growl.

“You will go, Beatrice. You will smile, bow, and kneel before the king. If you shame this house even once, if you so much as shed a tear in public, know that I will drag every last one of your maids into the courtyard and have them executed. Do you understand?”

A lump rose in her throat. Her servants—those who had raised her, bathed her, comforted her through every lonely night—would die because of her. The weight of their lives pressed down upon her shoulders like iron chains.

“…I understand, Father,” she whispered. Her voice was faint, but it was enough to satisfy him.

The Duke’s lips curled into a cold, victorious smile. “Good. Then prepare yourself. Next month, you become the Duchy’s offering.”

There was still enough time to prepare for the tribute, the Duke thought.

Although she looked skinny now, if they fed her enough, it should be possible for her to regain her weight and her skin’s luster.

“Haaah, what a mess,” said the Duke in disappointment. “Your brothers and I have been doing our best to prevent the Duchy from spiraling downhill, but here you are, failing to play your part as the princess.”

Before leaving Beatrice’s room, the Duke muttered, “Does she think I have time for these things?”

The door slammed shut, leaving behind Beatrice and her loyal maids inside.

***

Shortly after meeting his daughter, the Duke dismissed his vassals and asked them not to enter his office for a while.

The weight of the things he’d done—the way he shouted and cursed at his daughter—quickly came crashing down on him.

Duke Ricardo’s stern face quickly crumbled. His face contorted and his lips twitched as he willed back the tears that formed at the corner of his eyes. He pressed a trembling hand over his mouth, desperate to stifle the sob that threatened to break free. The papers scattered across his desk had become blurry.

For a fleeting moment, he saw not the tribute, not the pawn he had convinced himself she must become, but the little girl who once clung to his finger as she took her first steps.

The Duke felt his stomach churning.

“Ughh… my medicine…”

The Duke opened his drawer, took out a pill from a glass container, and swallowed it with water.

The Duke huffed, leaned back in his chair, and sighed. He wiped the tears that had unknowingly slid down his cheeks.

The other nobles had already sent their daughters as tribute to the King of Thornforge during the last few years. If he refused to abide by their demands now that it was his turn, those nobles would become his enemies.

Duke Ricardo was aware of the monster he’d become after ascending the throne.

He knew that his children no longer regarded him as a loving father. Now, whenever they met, all he could see within their eyes were fear, loathing, and disgust.

But what could he do?

Currently, they weren’t in any position to fight back or refuse the demands of the Kingdom of Thornforge.

Only the United Grakas Alliance would be powerful enough to threaten that kingdom, but he knew that those beastmen would never lend him a hand due to the hostile relationship between their countries.

Feeling that the pill wasn’t enough to calm him down, the Duke opened a bottle of wine and poured himself a glass. He drank one glass, then another, and without realizing it, he’d emptied an entire bottle.

The Duke was nearly drunk when the butler visited him once again.

“Your Grace, it’s me.”

The Duke said, annoyed, “Didn’t I tell you not to disturb me?”

The butler’s voice was clearly hesitant. “…Yes, but this matter is quite urgent, Your Grace.”

The Duke slammed the bottle onto the table. “Come inside.”

“Yes.”

After entering the office, the butler nearly frowned upon seeing the flushed face of the Duke. His eyes landed on the empty bottle on the table for a split second.

“What is it?” said Duke Ricardo.

The butler quickly regained his composure and said professionally, “The King of Lukas, His Highness, Lark Marcus, has come to personally meet you, Your Grace.”

Those words snapped Ricardo out of his stupor like a bucket of cold water.

“…What did you say?”

The butler repeated, “The King of Lukas has come to meet with you, Your Grace.”

Now fully awake, Ricardo abruptly stood up, almost toppling his chair in the process.

Numerous thoughts ran through his mind.

Although they weren’t adjacent to the Kingdom of Lukas, Lark Marcus’s feats had reached even the Dukedom.

Most of them sounded like mere exaggerations, that’s true, but there must have been a basis for those rumors.

The mere fact that even the Emperor lowered his head to Lark Marcus bespoke the power he currently wielded.

When they received the proposal to join the Coalition Army, the Duke honestly wanted to accept it right away since it would mean they would no longer have to worry about the United Grakas Alliance invading their borders.

But alas, the Kingdom of Thornforge would never permit them to join the Coalition.

Although the Coalition was undoubtedly stronger, the Duke was more afraid of the Kingdom of Thornforge which was located more proximally.

The sun may scorch in the distance, but it was the candle flame beside you that burns your house.

Fearing that it would offend the renowned Lark Marcus if he outright rejected the offer, Duke Ricardo made a nearly impossible demand of them instead.

He told them in his reply that they would join the Coalition only if the United Grakas Alliance agreed to concede the Mauko Plains to the Dukedom.

Of course, Duke Ricardo never believed that the Beast King would agree to his demands. No sane ruler would willingly give up a part of their territory for the sake of some backwater dukedom.

“Prepare the chamber,” Ricardo muttered. He straightened his coat, smoothed his hair, and willed the flush from his face. “Not a word of this leaves your mouth. No one is to know I’ve been drinking. Do you understand?”

The butler bowed. “Perfectly, Your Grace.”

After that, the Duke took a quick bath, donned his best clothes, and, accompanied by several advisors, entered the audience chamber where King Lark had been waiting.

Although he’d been drinking just several minutes ago, his strides remained straight and confident.

“I’ve made you wait,” said Duke Ricardo upon entering the room.
The Duke observed the King of Lukas immediately upon meeting him.

Lark Marcus looked exactly as the rumors described him.

‘He’s young.’

Lark smiled amicably at him. He replied, “Not at all. I came here unannounced. I’m already grateful you’ve granted me audience within the same day, Duke Ricardo.”

For a moment, Duke Ricardo wondered if this young man was really the King of Lukas and the leader of the Coalition Army.

His attire was so simple. A plain coat, worn without gaudy ornaments or the heavy jewelry other kings draped themselves with. No crown, no scepter, not even a gilded sword at his hip. He looked less like a monarch and more like a traveling scholar, save for the quiet confidence that radiated from his bearing.

And yet… behind those calm eyes lay something that made Ricardo’s skin prickle. An unfathomable depth, as though the young man before him could see through every layer of pretense, stripping flesh and bone until only the truth remained.

Duke Ricardo heard that King Lark was carrying a massive glaive with him when he arrived. But he willingly surrendered his weapon upon entering the palace.

Upon locking eyes with each other, Ricardo found himself stiffening, suppressing the urge to avert his gaze. He had faced several rulers in his time, but this presence unsettled him in ways he could not explain.

“…Your Majesty,” Ricardo said at last, carefully masking the unease in his voice. He gestured politely toward the seat across from him. “Please, let us speak plainly. What matter brings you here without herald or envoy?”

The advisors nearby perked their ears, listening attentively to the words Lark was going to speak.

“I’ve talked to Gaorux regarding the conditions you’ve stated before,” said Lark.

He did what?

For a moment, Duke Ricardo was horrified.

If this young king directly asked those beastmen about the conditions set by the Dukedom, it must have angered the Beast King!

He initially expected that Lark Marcus would send an envoy to discuss the matter with the United Grakas Alliance.

But he never thought he would personally meet with the Beast King himself!

Duke Ricardo nervously swallowed the lump in his throat. “…What did the Beast King say?”

“He declined,” said Lark flatly. “He said he would never concede Ashenveld to the Dukedom. Ah, by Ashenveld, I mean the Mauko Plains.”

This response was already within their expectations. What the Duke worried the most was if it angered the White Lion.

“Anything else…?”

Lark was quick-witted. He realized what the Duke was worried about. “The Beast King is displeased by the demands, of course. But do not worry, they won’t be waging war any time soon with your nation.”

Lark didn’t divulge that this was mainly due to Vaungur convincing the Beast King not to slaughter the soldiers of the Dukedom. Knowing the repercussions if this information became known, Lark purposely omitted this part.

“…Is that so.”

Hearing those words, the Duke and his advisors heaved a sigh of relief.

That demand was only a pretext since they were afraid of outright rejecting the Coalition’s offer.

No matter how much they wanted to join the Coalition led by Lark Marcus, they couldn’t go against the orders of the Kingdom of Thornforge.

“That’s great to hear,” said the Duke. “Your Majesty, if I may ask…”

“Your Grace?”

“…Did you come here on your own? If I’m not mistaken, it would take at least a month before you could reach this place even by cart.”

The Aden Region was mountainous. Even with the use of carts, it would take quite a long time to reach the Dukedom from the Valley of Witches. If Lark came from the capital, it must have taken him far longer.

Honestly, they didn’t expect to receive a response regarding their demands this soon.

And they never expected that the King of Lukas himself would visit them in person.

“I flew all the way here on my own,” said Lark. “Before coming to this place, I’ve visited the United Grakas Alliance. And after this, I plan on visiting the Kingdom of Thornforge next.”

The Duke and his advisors looked at each other.

They knew that flight magic existed, but according to the mages under their employment, that spell consumes tremendous amounts of mana each second, not to mention the concentration and mana manipulation needed to move the caster’s body.

This was their first time hearing someone use flight magic to fly from one country to another.

The Duke, taken off guard by the reply, was at a loss for words.

“Ahem… Haha… I see. You flew here….”

“Duke,” said Lark. “I don’t know why you’re insistent on reclaiming the Mauko Plains, but if you’re doing it due to food shortage, the Coalition can help you with that. The Beast King is stubborn, and he would never yield that territory to you. I’m afraid it’s impossible for me to fulfill your conditions.”

It was Lark’s way of trying to find a middle ground for the negotiations.

Honestly, Lark Marcus didn’t need to go this far to convince a small country like them to join the Coalition.

The Duke and his advisors were also aware that they had little to offer the Coalition even if they joined.

Whatever little they could provide, the Empire, one of the Coalition’s members, could give them a hundred times more.

‘Damn it. They’re even willing to send supplies to us. I really want to accept his offer. But if I do that.…’

The Duke wanted to tell Lark that he really wanted to join the Coalition army, but he was afraid of the consequences once the Kingdom of Thornforge learned of it.

In the end, his only choice was to reject the offer.

“I’m sorry,” said the Duke. “Our conditions are set. If the United Grakas Alliance doesn’t wish to concede the disputed territory to us, we won’t join the Coalition.”

It was a shameless remark, and the Duke did his best to hide the shame from showing on his face.

“The Coalition is willing to provide military and monetary support to its members. I’ll even personally order my people to open our granaries and send some food aid to you,” said Lark, not giving up. “I heard you haven’t fully recovered from the Black Famine. This would be of great help to you. Please think this through, Duke.”

The Duke’s façade almost crumpled.

He really wanted to grab the lifeline dangling right in his face, but his fear of the Kingdom of Thornforge prevented his hands from moving.

He knew how cruel the King of Thornforge could be. After all, he was his biggest backer during the civil war more than a decade ago. The moment he accepted that devil’s offer back then, the Duke knew that he would be forever indebted to the kingdom.

“I’m sorry. Our decision is final, Your Majesty.”

Lark nodded in understanding. He’d done everything he could to convince them. Any more push and it would no longer be proper.

“I see. What a shame,” said Lark. “I’ve fulfilled my purpose in coming here. Although our encounter is brief, I wish you the best, Your Grace.”

Duke Ricardo really wanted him to stay longer.

Maybe there was a way to join the Coalition without angering the Kingdom of Thornforge.

Maybe there was a way where he didn’t have to offer his daughter as a tribute to that monster.

But alas, he couldn’t bring the words out of his throat.

“You’re visiting the Kingdom of Thornforge next?” said Duke Ricardo.

“Yes.”

The Duke looked conflicted.

“Then, I wish you safe travels, Your Majesty.”

The King of Thornforge would probably learn about how the Duke rejected King Lark’s offer. That devil would probably sneer and gloat, thinking of how stupid Duke Ricardo was to let go of such an opportunity.

After that meeting, Lark didn’t stay any longer in the Dukedom.
Not bothering to rest, he flew straight to the Kingdom of Thornforge.