Chapter 100

False Messiah

 

Lansius

It was evening on the seventh day of their march. Soon, they would arrive at the closest point to Three Hills City. Since the main army was laden with the confiscated baggage train, almost everyone assumed the Lord would purchase food in Three Hills City and solve all their food problems. However, this was certainly an unrealistic hope.

"Why can't we just purchase food in Three Hills?" Audrey asked, alone with Lansius in their tent, waiting for Carla to bring their supper.

Lansius folded back a copy of his letter to Sir Justin in Korelia and tucked it into his pocket. "Well, we'll buy food from Three Hills, but not now. And certainly, it won't be enough to last the entire winter."

She looked surprised. "We don't have the money?"

"No, we have the money," he reassured her. "But if we purchase that much, then we will ruin Three Hills' economy, and I do not want to be hated by our potential ally."

Audrey furrowed her brows. Lansius had already briefed his staff on this matter, but only Sterling seemed to grasp the concept. The rest of the staff simply chose to trust Lansius' plan. Sir Harold had once said he would rather cut down a tree with a blunt axe than ponder what caused market prices to rise or fall. Although educated enough to avoid blaming merchants, he preferred to deal directly with farmers, bakers, and other producers.

Meanwhile, Sigmund would play ballads about shopkeepers and fair market ladies, yet excuse himself when asked about market matters. Carla would politely avoid discussions on the issue, claiming she was too busy ensuring security.

Aside from Sterling, perhaps only Dame Daniella could comprehend the issue, but she was busy managing the Nicopolan contingent and the camp followers. Thus, Lansius was glad that Audrey was genuinely trying to understand.

She'll be a good Baroness...

Lansius explained, "If we buy as much food as possible from the city, then food prices will rise sharply, right?"

Audrey nodded, understanding that much.

He continued, "If the food prices rise sharply, then how will the city folks and the poor buy food for the upcoming winter?"

"Ah," she exclaimed in understanding.

"Footmen, guardsmen, and their families, also less fortunate farmers or laborers who had a rough year. Moreover, they just suffered a major defeat in Korelia, so I assume many are in a bad position for this winter."

Audrey seemed to catch the general idea before she suddenly stared at Lansius.

"Why the gaze?" he asked.

She looked away. "Nothing. I am just surprised that you think that far. Even to worry about the life of people who are not even your subjects."

Lansius chuckled. "Am I crazy for thinking about them?"

Audrey crossed her arms and pondered. "That is beyond me. But that is probably why you are able to do all this. So don't let my words bother you."

"Drey, I trust you the most. Let me know if I'm going too far."

She tilted her head as if pondering. "I will try. But really, I am only good with a sword and horse, not words."

Carla entered the tent with her aides, bringing bowls of food from the field kitchen. Despite some expectations that the Lord would hold a daily feast like in the Great Hall, Lansius opted for a simple meal like common travelers to reduce the burden on his kitchen staff. Clearly, preparing for a feast during a journey was tremendous.

As the Lord set the example, his staff and army followed.

Unexpectedly, rumors began to swirl that the Lord and Lady were cleansing their spirits for the upcoming battle on behalf of the Nicopolans, who had gravely erred by consuming human flesh. These rumors found fertile ground as servants confirmed that the Lord and Lady subsisted on modest fare, akin to commoners. Consequently, many began to see them in a different light.

More than respect or admiration, those who had witnessed their impossible victories, seen the fruits of his labor and grasped his grand plans, grew deeply devoted to the cause. They congregated, driven not by monetary gain, the thrill of battle, or mere survival, but by a sincere desire to aid Lord Lansius in fulfilling his destiny.

Many believed he was marked for greatness. His black hair, once a symbol of foreignness and mistrust, had transformed into a revered omen from the Ancients. His wife, initially thought to be a mere squire but later revealed as a Baroness, was now perceived as an undeniable harbinger of greater destinies.

In Lowlandia, as in the rest of the Imperium where organized religion was abolished by the decree of the Ageless One, superstition still thrived. The people began to regard the Lord and Lady not merely as nobles, but as beings transcending ordinary mortals. Many speculated that the Lord might have the Grand Progenitor's blood in his veins.

...

 

Despite being on the move, the Lord of Korelia had received a fair amount of intelligence gathered from his long-range scouts, who traveled days ahead in the direction he had set. He wasted no time reading their reports whenever he could.

Based on their information, he contemplated sending his cavalry to march ahead. The decision needed to be made now before his intentions towards South Hill were laid bare. However, he was yet to receive reports from Three Hills, and currently it was still too early to expect a response from Korelia.

Audrey entered the camp and spoke, "We're going to break camp."

"Yeah, sure. I'm prepared," Lansius replied, checking his gear.

"What's the news from Dietrich?" she asked, cleaning her face with clean water from a copper basin.

"Lots of interesting facts. I might even need to alter the plan."

Audrey was piqued. "What changed?"

"South Hill is not only unprepared, but they're also in worse shape than I expected. Just like the captured men said, the Lord of South Hill has little redeeming quality aside from his tight grip on power."

"No surprise there," she said as Carla entered and began to pack the things inside the tent.

Lansius quietly approached Audrey's side. "What do you mean?"

"He was once a knight under Lord Jorge and was trusted to defend South Hill, but he decided he was better than Jorge and led his House in rebellion..."

Lansius nodded, recalling the story of how Three Hills lost all the neighboring regions and how Lord Jorge was called the Fool of One Hill.

"Is this what you meant by 'power corrupts'?" Audrey asked.

"Oh, nice, you're learning fast. Indeed, power tends to corrupt. In the case of the Lord of South Hill, power revealed his true nature."

Audrey looked concerned.

"I doubt we're so blind as to misjudge Hugo that badly. Besides, his hold on power in Korimor is questionable, and his troops' loyalty is not to him," Lansius reassured her. "If you're that worried, you should stay behind," he teased.

She quickly furrowed her brows at the suggestion and exclaimed, "No. Titles are just names. I'd rather lose the city than not be by your side in battle."

Lansius chuckled and was about to praise her, but Carla was everywhere, packing for travel. He ended up taking Audrey's hand, guiding her to a folding seat, and caressing her shoulder. "Don't worry about Korimor. Focus on the problem ahead of us."

"South Hill then. What will you do to him?"

"It depends. If his defense is strong, then I'll extort what I can. If it's not..." He shrugged and quickly added, "Whatever we do, we only have limited supplies, and Three Hill's assistance isn't guaranteed."

Audrey uncharacteristically groaned and looked at the tent's ceiling. "Why is it always an uphill battle for us?"

Lansius patted her arm. "At least now we have the numbers. South Hill probably has less than a thousand men."

The revelation turned her frown into a smile.

 

***

 

Chateau de Cascasonne

The wind outside was raging, heralding the changing of seasons. Hannei stood alone, gazing out the window glass. Though Mages possessed the ability to see through the night like beastmen, she sought not to see anything but to appreciate the dark beauty of the night, which bore a certain void-like quality.

Memories of Bengrieve’s year-long, subtle interrogation still haunted her. The truth nectar had forced her to spill everything she knew about her world's history.

Bengrieve had shown keen interest in the Renaissance and the Victorian era, not just for the steam engine and industrial revolution, but also for the shifts in government model and its economy. In their meetings, the diminishing role of nobility and the concept of nationalism were also recurring subjects.

This was why Hannei had distanced herself from Lansius. The more she knew, the riskier it became. She realized she was just an ordinary girl with basic historical knowledge, whereas Lansius was a juggernaut who could recite 'The Art of War' and detail the campaigns of Julius Caesar and Genghis Khan.

She feared that Bengrieve could learn too much, endangering the Imperium and everyone.

Despite being favored amongst the retinue, Hannei didn’t fully trust Bengrieve.

The man isn't evil, just too powerful and cunning for his own good.

That was why she was relieved when, two years ago, Lansius left a meeting with Bengrieve without arousing suspicion, not even needing to mention his amnesia. She was even more relieved when Lansius was sent to Lowlandia and ended up staying there.

Truthfully, even when escorting Felicity to Korelia, she had intended to keep Lansius at a distance to protect him from Bengrieve. Yet, her warnings about the situation outside Lowlandia drew them closer. Fortunately, their benefactor didn’t seem concerned. Somehow, Bengrieve hadn’t suspected anything about Lansius' origin.

The wind paused momentarily before returning with greater force, creating a howling sound as it swept past the towers.

Hannei shivered. Years had passed since she left the Progentia continent and its labyrinth. Now, she felt weak and aimless, drifting from task to task, trapped in the employment of a powerful Lord. She couldn't blame Calub, who had introduced them; she needed Bengrieve's protection.

She wasn't a member of the Mage Guild, and some powerful families might be tempted to use her. It was ironic that she felt safer in a continent filled with monsters than in one filled with humans.

"Should I sail east again and settle there?" she asked her reflection in the glass window.

Hannei had the means to live comfortably, but beyond the labyrinth, there was little else to do there. The region was dotted with small city-states along the coastlines, subsisting more on traditional fishing than trading.

Without skills in apothecary, crafting, or baking, starting a business seemed out of reach. This had been her dilemma before meeting Tia, the little girl now sleeping peacefully in her bed. Tia was intelligent and could assist her significantly in various tasks.

A thought struck Hannei: to ask Tia to leave everything behind and sail west. In a few years, Tia would complete her education. Hannei resolved to propose the idea after her graduation.

She would neither force nor manipulate Tia. If they were to leave for Progentia, it would be by the girl's own decision. In doing so, Hannei once again tied her fate to someone else's choice, just as she had done before: first to her savior and mentor, then to Felicity and Calub, and now to a little girl.

...

 

The evening before the Lord's departure, Bengrieve summoned Hannei to a private dinner with just them and a squire. They enjoyed a meal together, a change from their previous encounters, with Bengrieve treating her more amicably.

"The steward mentioned your inquiries about the current situation," Bengrieve began as they sipped their after-dinner drinks.

"I merely wish to learn, My Lord," Hannei replied.

Bengrieve smiled. "Ask away, Lady Hannei. You play an important role in my plans."

Hannei resisted the urge to furrow her brows. "I'm grateful, but I feel unworthy of being part of such an important plan."

"Don't play the fool with me," he said with a faint grin. "I march tomorrow, so indulge me with my request."

Hannei pondered for a moment. "About the Emperor. Is it true that the Ageless One is no longer in this world?"

Bengrieve's smile stiffened. "You know I keep a close watch on the military movements around the capital. Despite the crises in Nicopola and Elandia, there's been no movement."

Hannei nodded, recalling the briefing from the Steward. "But, My Lord, as you said, there's been no movement."

Bengrieve's pleased expression deepened. "No movement is a move in itself."

Only then did Hannei begin to grasp what he meant.

"No movement means the Imperial House cannot trust anyone with military command, fearing they might not relinquish control and potentially lead a coup."

Hannei felt a growing nervousness. "Is the Imperium heading into a succession war?"

"Lord Gottfried will ensure it. His forces should be crossing into Tiberia, and he won't stop until he reaches the Capital. That's the plan, assuming Midlandia commits troops to Elandia."

Hannei grew uncomfortable at the revelation. She wasn't privy to such information. "Does this mean we're cooperating with The Lord of Brigandia?"

"Cooperation implies a partnership, which can be misleading. We are simply doing what's natural for us: expanding. The Imperium is too vast for its own good; fortunately, that means there's no need to vie for supremacy. With other Lords, we can simply choose to coexist," Bengrieve explained.

Hannei swallowed hard, her mind racing.

Why is he telling me all this?

At this point, the lone squire sensed it was prudent to exit the room and did so quietly.

Hannei, noticing the squire's departure, asked, "My Lord, is it wise to entrust me with this insight?"

Bengrieve chuckled. "Things have happened and cascaded into this. Lady Hannei, now you play an important role."

"But my Lord, you promised to allow me to retire to my hometown," she reminded him nervously.

"And do what there? Waste your life? Marry? If you're considering marriage, how about Sir Stan?"

"My Lord, I have no desire to marry."

Bengrieve leaned forward, his hands on the table. "Are you sure? This may be a crossroad in your life."

Hannei, believing that marriage was the crossroad, shook her head. "My Lord, this servant does not wish to marry anyone."

Bengrieve's laughter unnerved her, as though he had anticipated her refusal. "Very well, I will honor your wishes," he declared.

She shook her head in panic. "No! My Lord, what do you mean?"

"You may not be the prime candidate, but you are equally perfect."

Her heart raced as she processed his words.

"Yes, this is all a blessing in disguise," Bengrieve mused, more to himself. "Did the Ancients orchestrate this for me? How devious and yet, marvelous!"

"My Lord, you're frightening me," she pleaded.

"Fear not, for you are the future leader of the Saint Candidate."

Hannei shuddered at the title. "Please, My Lord..."

Bengrieve's laughter echoed as he strode to the window and flung it open against the dark sky, proclaiming to the wind, "The Emperor is dead! Long live the virgin Saint Messiah!"

She stood, her hands trembling and her face pale with shock. In this world's language, there was no real equivalent to Messiah, and the term Bengrieve used was the one Hannei had chosen when she retold her world's history. "My Lord, what are you saying?"

Turning to her, Bengrieve explained, "We will transform Midlandia into a theocracy, mirroring one from your world's history. And how fitting that you shall be the leader."

Hannei felt weak and dropped into her chair.

Is this what he had planned for Audrey? To play as a false prophet? But why...?

She felt sick. Meanwhile, Bengrieve walked toward her and bent his knees, placing his hand over hers. "With you as the Messiah and me as the Prime Minister, we shall create a new kingdom in Midlandia."

The wind blew hard as if harboring warnings from the gods, yet Bengrieve was determined. "Imagine, an unshackled Midlandia Kingdom. We could lead the people to its full potential and achieve the unthinkable!"

With that declaration, Midlandia quietly cast the dice against the Imperium's survival.

 

***