episode_0082

82. The Last Warlord

How long must I endure tyranny in silence?

Between loyalty and conviction, which must I choose to be righteous?

It is easy to live virtuously.

But to live righteously is exceedingly difficult.

And that was a perfect example of what I now faced.

To achieve righteousness, overwhelming force is necessary.

That is why I trained my pitiful soldiers into elite knights with exceptional teamwork.

My elite troops could crush any tactical formation the enemy devised.

I wished for us all to carry out righteousness together.

“….”

But how did it come to this?

My lord, Baltazar Blackdon, sought to move in the right direction.

Yet perhaps he lacked the wisdom to govern a nation… or perhaps it was never his destiny…

I had much to say, but I held myself back.

That is what it means to be a loyal retainer.

And that is what it means to be a soldier.

In the end, the situation escalated terribly.

After surviving an assassination attempt, Baltazar Blackdon attempted to burn the capital during his recovery.

And he intended to use **my soldiers** to do it…

“It’s clearly just an excuse to find the assassin! He’s using it as a pretext to loot the city and line his own pockets…!”

“Enough.”

I silenced the soldier who protested the massacre.

Then I drew the finely honed sword from my scabbard and issued a warning.

“A soldier obeys.”

“But—”

“Though I see you all as my own flesh and blood… if you speak another word, I will cut you down.”

“……Understood.”

After the soldier withdrew, I thought deeply again.

Baltazar Blackdon had changed after tasting power.

One could not deny that he had become akin to the commonly portrayed figure of a demon.

But a soldier who disobeys his lord’s command is also evil.

So I closed my eyes, meditated, and came to a conclusion.

“…I can be neither virtuous nor righteous.”

To rebel against Blackdon would be the wicked act of a disloyal soldier.

To ignore my duty as a subordinate would be an unrighteous action.

But if I obey Blackdon’s orders, I become a villain all the same.

If every choice and action is evil, then at the very least…

Just as I rose to carry out Blackdon’s planned crackdown—

Unbelievable news arrived.

“Blackdon has been assassinated in broad daylight in the imperial palace—!!”

The massacre, as devilish as it was, never came to pass.

────────────────────

Now, inside the imperial palace, within a noble’s chambers.

No… To be precise, a room designated as Reina’s personal quarters.

Athena, Reina’s former lieutenant before her demotion, was lecturing her relentlessly.

Scolding her like a misbehaving child, Athena ranted while Reina merely picked at her ear with her pinky finger.

“Goddammit—!! Do you even have a brain, or did you lose that too?!”

“It all worked out in the end, didn’t it? We got promoted, practically nobility now…”

“AAARGH—!!”

Athena clawed at her own head in frustration.

After finally stopping, she sighed and tried patiently explaining things to Reina.

“Captain… We’ve already betrayed **two** lords…”

No—she *tried* to explain.

But how could one even describe this?

They hadn’t just betrayed their lord—they’d **killed him twice**.

Where in the world had such a thing ever happened before?!

Not just betrayal—murder!! They had fallen so far in disgrace they might as well be branded **Lord-Killers**…

Yet Reina simply crunched on snacks from her room and comforted Athena.

“Weeell… In the end, things turned out fine, didn’t they? Life’s like a… uh… you know.”

“‘You win some, you lose some’?”

“Yeah! Whatever! Anyway, a good process doesn’t guarantee a good outcome, see?”

“*Sigh*… If words are useless, then fine…!”

Athena, lost for words, exhaled deeply.

Though they had earned the ignominy of a **double lord-kill**, they had still risen to become imperial generals.

Truly, **you win some, you lose some**.

Even the worst decisions had led to the best possible outcome…

Just as Athena’s lecture was finally ending—

A knock came at Reina’s door.

Athena opened it to find Karta standing outside.

A woman famed for her loyalty—the kind who would carry out a massacre without question.

Thus, Athena cautiously rested her hand on her sword and asked with guarded suspicion.

“…Why have you come?”

“Here for revenge, perhaps?”

Reina also chimed in, lightly resting her hand on her halberd.

But Karta merely knelt on one knee and bowed her head.

“I wish to serve you as my new lord.”

“Hmm? Why?”

“Because you are a warlord who puts the likes of **him** to shame.”

Karta had agonized over it.

Obeying Blackdon was evil—disobeying him was also evil.

But Reina had demonstrated the will to accomplish the impossible.

That was why Karta bowed before her.

Yet Reina hesitated to accept her.

She knew Karta was strong and that her soldiers were capable.

But she simply **didn’t like her**.

Unlike her own free-spirited self, Karta was rigidly bound by doctrine.

So Reina asked her plainly—

“So you’d follow any order I give?”

“Of course.”

“You know the cathedral nearby has a lot of homeless people, right?

If I ordered you to go have an orgy with ten of them, would you follow through?”

A command so inhumane that anyone else would spit in disgust and flee.

Especially in this era—effectively the early Middle Ages—

Virginity represented one’s moral character, and honor was indistinguishable from one’s very soul.

By modern standards, such an order was akin to commanding someone to live as a pig in a pigsty.

Yet Karta merely bowed her head in silence.

“Understood.”

“Huh?! Wait, no! That was a joke!”

Karta was prepared to obey without hesitation, forcing Reina to quickly stop her.

“Ugh… You’re way too by-the-book. And you creep me out.”

“Nevertheless, I wish to serve under you, Lady Reina.”

“Then at least walk **ten meters behind me** at all times.”

“As you command.”

And so, Karta became Reina’s new lieutenant.

Along the way, Athena whispered a question to Reina.

“But, Captain… Why do you dislike her so much?”

“She’s creepy! She’s like a doll or something… Look.”

Karta obediently walked precisely ten meters behind them.

Never deviating even slightly from the commanded distance.

“She’s walking **exactly** ten meters away! That’s *terrifying*!”

“Good grief! She’s our ally now!”

“I don’t care! She freaks me out!!”

Aaanyway, Karta integrated smoothly into Reina’s army.

────────────────────

Meanwhile, in the imperial palace.

The old man who had hired Reina for the assassination

—a man fiercely loyal to the imperial family—was causing problems of his own.

“Good heavens, Lord Sebastian! If you kill him, we’ll have no bureaucrats left to govern!”

“Let **go**! These traitors sided with Blackdon, that scum who dared claim the throne of another’s home!”

Once gentle, the old man now snarled like a wrathful specter.

In the end, his hands executed thirty high-ranking nobles—men even Blackdon had hesitated to touch.

The execution of nobility was, by law, strictly forbidden.

But the old man slaughtered them all on the mere suspicion of collusion.

If *nobles* faced such treatment, what fate awaited those beneath them?

Two generals—who narrowly escaped his blade—were living proof.

Constantly hiding in fear of soldiers dragging them to the execution grounds,

they were commanders famed for roaming independently, obliterating enemies—

Lykke and Targon.

Known collectively as **Fork and Knife**.

“*Sob…* Sir Lykke super scared…! Lord Sebastian too strong…!!”

“Shut up… *Sigh*… Whatever. Are we screwed?”

Lykke’s lisp remained as pronounced as ever, while Targon lacked even the energy to be angry.

Their expressions mirrored condemned prisoners awaiting execution.

Fearful, listless, utterly defeated.

“Sir Lykke wanna… flee to Ternova…!”

“Give it a rest, you moron. Anyone stepping outside the capital gets executed on the spot now.”

“Sir Lykke *not idiot*!”

Lykke snapped in fury.

Then, brushing a hand over his scrawny muscles, he turned to Targon with a proposal.

“What if we beg Lord Sebastian real nice?! Maybe even gift him something…?”

“Like **what**?”

“…Sweet candy or cake?”

“Sure, if you wanna get an arrow between the eyes.”

Targon scoffed in mocking amusement.

Finally pushed past his limit, Lykke whipped out his massive greatsword.

“Hmph! Targon *too negative*! Why Sir Lykke big heart not appreciate?!”

“You idiot… If cake fixed everything, why would wars exist?”

Targon, too, drew his own greatsword, squaring off—

When a woman approached them.

A woman who had incited rebellion in Blackdon and negotiated with Cecillia and Erica in the Dragon’s Nest.

The root cause behind *everything* that had transpired.

Gabriel.

“Long time no see, Generals.”

She still wore her signature skintight outfit.

We can now easily predict the outcome.

That silver tongue—so at odds with her delicate beauty—will sow chaos once more.

And the two men before her will be unable to refuse…

And once again, **she will survive**.