Chapter 85: Count Corrode and the Eight Knights – 4

Before the meeting, Lady Linne gave two pieces of advice:

-Do not give them a cause for conflict.

-Discern Count Corrode’s primary intentions.

…Both were exceedingly difficult pieces of advice to follow.

Count Corrode was tapping on the table, pressing the matter.

“…Isn’t it true? To put it bluntly, is there anyone unaware that Loctana has already collapsed? Isn’t it a good thing that a merchant guild even entered such a land? Moreover, they are selling goods at low prices, so what exactly is the issue here?”

Kelsie countered.

“…Because of those low prices, the merchants who had already taken root in Loctana are all struggling—”

“And who said you could interrupt me?”

With his characteristic demeanor, Kelsie was ignored, and the Count began pressing Vivian with his flawed logic.

Every action of his reflected a man who only desired conflict.

If not for Lady Linne’s advice, things might have already escalated into a full-blown argument.

If the Corrode family were considered in isolation, perhaps their dispute could be endured.

Maybe even outright hostility toward them and preparation for a deeper conflict could be considered.

Before the era of wars between kingdoms, conflicts between noble houses were commonplace.

No matter how far they had fallen, even Rondor could manage to deal with the likes of the Corrode family.

However, the reasoning behind it was the issue.

Why did the Corrode family desire conflict?

Could it be guaranteed that only the Corrode family would participate in this fight?

What if hidden adversaries surfaced?

What if Robert Rondor was aiding the Corrode family?

Or worse, what if they had even greater backing?

Heading into a battlefield without knowing any of this was not an option.

Vivian tried to discern Count Corrode’s ultimate intentions, but it was easier said than done.

“Are you fine with the Corrode merchant guild being unable to enter Loctana?”

“It’s not fine because the reasons don’t make sense. Do you, as a lord, think it’s permissible to discriminate against merchant guilds based on your personal preferences? If you act that way, we may start discriminating against everything associated with the Rondor family.”

Vivian had thought of Count Corrode as a straightforward bear-like man, but the more she dug, the more she realized he was like a snake.

He twisted his words, concealed his intentions, and constantly dangled bait before her eyes.

Only now did Vivian begin to understand why her father had never gotten along with Count Corrode.

Count Corrode, along with the Corrode family’s treasurer, and Vivian, Kelsie, and several retainers, engaged in an endless discussion.

They gulped down tea as though it were water, occasionally raised their voices, and sometimes gritted their teeth while trying to find common ground… but in the end, the conversation went in circles.

The Count maintained his position that he could not withdraw the merchant guild he supported, insisting there was nothing wrong with their actions.

Vivian, on the other hand, could not stand by and watch the guild ruin the region’s economy.

If they wouldn’t change, her stance was to expel them.

And if the guild’s expulsion were decided, it would certainly lead to conflict.

Count Corrode would declare to the world that Rondor had attacked them without cause, while Rondor would claim the opposite and continue the fight.

Vivian could feel herself being swept up in some grand conspiracy.

How long had this been in preparation?

How far ahead had they planned?

She couldn’t grasp it at all.

Yet, with such overt provocations for conflict, avoiding it wasn’t an option either.

How could one avoid a fight when the opponent had already thrown the first punch with clear intent?

In the end, it seemed inevitable that she would have to brace herself for the coming battle, whether the intention was merely to undermine her position or to eliminate her entirely.

“…This discussion seems endless. Are you not hungry? It must have been a tiring journey. Let us have a meal and rest, and continue our talk tomorrow.”

Vivian needed time to think.

She felt she needed to hear from Lady Linne, from Kelsie, who had been intimidated by the Count’s pressure, and from other retainers to piece together what she might have missed and make a judgment.

The Count nodded and rose from his seat.

“…Very well.”

A small smile appeared on his lips.

To Vivian, it was a deeply unsettling smile.

The meal was held in Rondor’s hall.

On a podium prepared at one end, Vivian and Count Corrode sat across a long table, conversing as they ate.

At a humbler table below, retainers from both houses, guards like herself, and the Eight Knights ate their meals in silence.

At the table of Vivian and Count Corrode, at least polite conversation flowed.

In contrast, our table was completely enveloped in a frosty silence.

No one opened their mouths, and the atmosphere was tense, as if locked in a battle of stares.

Even Martin and Wallace, who had admired the Eight Knights, realized the mood was far from ordinary and sat tensely.

“How old are you?”

Liard, seated across from me and chewing food noisily with his helmet off, broke the silence.

This knight, appearing to be in his late thirties, was, as expected, the leader of the Eight Knights.

“Eighteen.”

He gestured with his chin toward the blue cord around my neck.

“The Dragon. How old were you when you caught it?”

“About fifteen.”

“Blood doesn’t lie.”

I examined Liard’s neck.

Though it was bare, there was an air about him—a sense that he wasn’t bothered by something as trivial as wearing a cord.

“…How many have you caught?”

Curiosity got the better of me, and I asked.

Liard grinned widely and answered.

“Thirteen. Of course, I had a bit of help each time…”

I nodded silently.

I had noticed since Wallace had spoken earlier that the Eight Knights seemed particularly focused on outward honor.

From the name “Eight Knights” to their cocky demeanor and the number of dragons they had slain, it all pointed to a preoccupation with appearances.

Surely it was enough to command respect, so why slay so many dragons unless to maintain such a reputation?

If they were truly remarkable knights, they would have made a name for themselves in the war.

My father often spoke of the formidable foes he had faced in the war.

The one he praised most highly was Lois Rondor—Vivian’s now-deceased brother.

Lois Rondor had once shown me mercy in the past.

“I didn’t know such extraordinary knights were among the Southerners.”

Since Liard had opened the conversation, I continued it.

It was hard for me to believe that these knights were more celebrated than Lois Rondor.

I felt the gaze of the Eight Knights shift toward me.

“My father never mentioned it.”

Liard replied calmly.

“Some among us never even participated in the war. It’s only natural our name didn’t reach far.”

“No, not that. I mean, I’ve never even heard of the term ‘Eight Knights.’ The same goes for the Corrode family.”

Some of the knights set their utensils down on the table with slight irritation.

The youngest-looking of them, Hiden, even glared at me.

He spoke.

“Just as the rumors say. Arrogant and insolent, riding on your father’s coattails.”

I responded with a grin.

“Well, my father is rather exceptional.”

“A piece of advice—if you don’t break that habit, you won’t last long. Have you forgotten the state your father is in?”

“…If you’ve lost your protector, you should know how to tuck your tail appropriately. There’s no mother bear behind you anymore.”

I stared at him for a while, and Hiden snorted, his eyes narrowing menacingly.

“Or I could teach you a lesson about reality. How about it? A duel with real swords?”

I turned my head slightly to look at Vivian.

She was still deep in conversation with Corrode.

I responded to Hiden.

“Sorry, but I’m Vivian’s guard. I don’t have time for pointless endeavors.”

Hiden sneered at my reply.

“I expected as much. A mere boy who hasn’t even come of age, yet dares to provoke us… What exactly are you relying on?”

Even now, their focus on personal honor over duty baffled me.

“Come on now.”

Liard tapped the table lightly with his fist, trying to ease the tension.

“I didn’t intend for this to turn so hostile. Just because our lords have conflicts doesn’t mean we need to follow suit.”

“Vivian is not my lord.”

Liard who had claimed he hadn’t meant to incite a fight, paused thoughtfully before speaking.

“…Is she not? Your behavior is unmistakably that of someone serving a master.”

At this point, Chris, one of the Eight Knights who had been silent the whole time, finally spoke up.

“That’s quite a heartless Lord, isn’t it? She doesn’t even send you back to your hometown for your father’s sake.”

The one called Bariot also spoke.

“Do you know this, Alan? Some nobles from the Eastern Kingdom, who were held as hostages, have been allowed to return home. Do you think peace is really coming?”

Their words stung, yet their underlying intent felt faintly discernible.

It was a vague feeling, as though they were trying to drive a wedge between me and Vivian.

Instead of anger, my sense of wariness steadily grew at the thought.

Liard reached out again, gesturing to restrain his companions.

Then, he spoke to me.

“Regardless, I only said it out of pity. I’ve heard all about how you protected Duchess Rondor. It’s the kind of story that sets an example for knights. It’s unfortunate to see such a figure remain in this land. I hated your father, but I acknowledged his abilities. Perhaps this is what it feels like to meet a truly great knight.”

“What exactly are you trying to say?”

“That we should get along. I recognize you.”

Beside him, Wallace exclaimed in awe, his mouth agape.

I didn’t pay him any attention.

Unfazed by his reaction, I simply shoveled more food into my mouth.

The subtle tension lingered in the air.

Vivian and Count Correde’s discussions went on for a long time.

Even after two days, the talks hadn’t concluded, dragging into a third and fourth day.

With each passing day, Vivian appeared more and more haggard.

“…We can’t communicate.”

She confided to me with difficulty when we were alone.

“As I said, they’ve really come to pick a fight. I can’t see any way out of this.”

“Then just fight them.”

“…There’s no guarantee that Count Correde is the only enemy.”

“Then fight them all.”

I replied.

Vivian gave a faint chuckle at my blunt response.

Her eyes conveyed gratitude, as if my words alone were enough.

However, I had a slightly more selfish reason for answering as I did.

I wanted to quickly eliminate all of Vivian’s adversaries.

The fiercer the fight, the better it would serve my purpose.

Only then would everyone drop their pretense and reveal their true intentions.

Even setting aside my worry that my father didn’t have much time left, I wanted to finish matters here as soon as possible.

I was increasingly uneasy about the deepening relationship between us.

I knew we couldn’t end up together in the end.

And yet, the growing intensity of my feelings for her, beyond my comprehension, was beginning to terrify even me.

The change in how I viewed physical contact with her made our prior interactions feel almost like a joke, so overwhelming was the yearning I now felt.

Even during this trivial conversation, I had to fight the urge to hold her so tightly she might break.

I wanted to leave when I could still pull myself away from her.

I dreaded the thought of the curse deepening to the point where I could no longer walk away from her on my own.

I knew that moment wasn’t far off.

So I wished for all of Vivian’s threats to reveal themselves at once.