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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Pot]
[Proofreader - Kawaii]
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Chapter 128: Anyone Who Messes with Our Peter is Dead Meat
The intense sunlight poured down over the sea and vineyards of Grunewald City. The days were gradually growing hotter.
Among those who felt this most acutely on their skin were two main groups.
One was the laborers who worked day and night unloading cargo at Grunewald Harbor.
The other was the soldiers of Grunewald, who rose early to greet the dawn breeze and began their duties earlier than most.
“So, that monster, Nepherus, was ridiculously huge, I’m telling you.”
“A single tooth was as big as a person.”
“Each of its scales was like a shield. If you stripped them off and attached them to armor, even the arrows of the elves would have a hard time piercing through.”
However, today, the Royal Guards had forgotten their training and were all chattering about the exploits of one man.
The source, of course, was the testimonies of the knights and squires who had witnessed Nepherus’s corpse and even transported it.
The story spread like wildfire through the barracks, reaching every member of the Royal Guards, Special Operations Division, and Security Guards. Military rumors always traveled as fast as a winged horse.
“How much do you think you could sell that for?”
“I don’t know, but it’s probably worth more than our entire salaries combined.”
“Huh.”
“If you just buried it in a high-interest bank account, the interest alone would…”
“Or investing in a trade ship wouldn’t be a bad idea.”
“Personally, I’d hire a private retinue.”
At one soldier’s words, everyone’s heads turned.
“…That’s not a bad idea.”
Before they knew it, Allenvert had become a name they all wanted to serve under.
“Should I try cozying up to Sir Jeffrey?”
These conversations floated like ghosts through the restrooms, training grounds, dining halls, and armories, eventually reaching the ears of Barclava.
“…So, that’s what happened?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Barclava had recently been participating in most of the Royal Guard duties under Verdzig’s approval.
“See, damn it! I told you it wasn’t my fault!”
At that moment, a loud voice rang out.
“…Keseg.”
Keseg, the man whose greatest life achievement had become getting beaten up by Allenvert during a sparring match, was now passionately ranting among his comrades while flinging bread crumbs.
“What a braggart, idiot.”
“What a pathetic guy.”
“Why is someone like him even in the Royal Guards?”
Of course, his comrades’ reactions were as cold as one would expect toward a less-than-impressive friend.
‘He’s always been a bit of a mess, so he gets even more flak. Does he really not get it?’
Barclava clicked his tongue in pity, then suddenly realized something.
‘…Was I like that once?’
Keseg, with his excessive pride in his noble lineage and his lackluster skills, was like a mirror reflecting Barclava’s own past.
‘Ah, how embarrassing.’
Memories of his stormy youth came flooding back. Though it had been his brother’s insistence, wasn’t it Barclava himself who had challenged Allenvert before Keseg and gotten beaten up?
“Ahem.”
Sure enough, a few guardsmen were glancing his way.
“Don’t mind me.”
Barclava found it strangely fascinating that he could now speak like this. When it came to being rough-tempered and irritable toward his subordinates, wasn’t he second only to Somerset?
‘Damn it.’
For this boy, who was still too young to be called a man, most of his past was filled with shame and regret.
But boys in their growth spurt could shoot up several inches in just a few days. Ever since Barclava realized he was like a bird trapped in Verdzig’s cage, his inner resolve had only grown stronger.
‘It’s not all doom and gloom.’
After all, wasn’t there Allenvert, who had started in a far worse situation than his but was now walking the exact opposite path?
‘…Lately, I keep comparing myself to that man.’
As he muttered this to himself, Barclava suddenly realized something.
He finally had a name for the mix of admiration and envy he felt every time he thought of his half-brother, that annoying and sly man.
‘Aspiration.’
The moment the word crossed his mind, Barclava frowned.
‘Aspiration? Me, toward him?’
Barclava couldn’t bring himself to admit it. Who in their right mind would aspire to be like that sly, half-crazed lunatic?
“Damn it.”
Barclava abruptly stood up and stormed out.
***
“To summarize, the virtues of an excellent commander aren’t just about superior tactical skills or high-level strategic thinking. And certainly not about personal combat prowess.”
Barclava was quietly listening to the lesson from a corner, making sure not to disturb anyone. It was a time when senior Royal Guard were sharing their experiences with the new recruits.
For Barclava, who had received advanced education, there wasn’t much new information. But hearing it from the perspective of seniors who were mentoring their juniors, rather than from tutors who were overly cautious around him, made it feel more relatable.
“You there, tell me what you think makes a good commander.”
A squad leader pointed at one of the recruits.
“The ability to inspire loyalty in one’s subordinates.” answered a Royal Guard with a sturdy build and sharp eyes.
“Why is that important?”
“Because soldiers must be willing to die if ordered. If even one person fails to hold their position or duty, the entire formation will collapse, and everyone will perish.”
The squad leader nodded in satisfaction. Another chimed in.
“The foundation of a military organization is the chain of command. What’s important to remember is that there are multiple layers of hierarchy across various ranks.”
“Correct. Go on.”
“We must cultivate excellent officers and non-commissioned officers and earn their loyalty. Only when orders from the top are delivered swiftly and accurately to the lowest levels can the entire army perform at its best.”
The Royal guards, during peacetime, were an elite force tasked with protecting their lord and leading small-scale suppression missions.
But in the event of a large-scale territorial war, they would also take on the role of training and leading conscripted soldiers, whipping them into shape.
“Then answer this: if you had subordinates who openly defied you, mocked you, or engaged in collective insubordination and slacking, how would you handle it?”
“Well, that’s…”
The question stumped all of them.
Barclava, too, was at a loss.
‘Subordinates who defy and slack off.’
Of course, no vassal had ever dared to act that way in front of Barclava.
But he knew better than anyone that they were all Verdzig’s people, and their loyalty lay with his brother, not him.
‘They’re the ones who just stood by and watched me tremble in front of my brother.’
It was pathetic, and it was because Verdzig was that terrifying.
Barclava believed that if he didn’t change his current situation, where he was bound hand and foot, nothing would change even after ten years.
‘Yes, a commander who can’t earn the loyalty of their subordinates is nothing but a puppet.’
The so-called vassals of Barclava, the fifth young master of Grunewald, were ultimately just an illusion.
‘Then what should I do?’
Barclava glanced at the servant who stood closest to him.
‘Whose person are you?’
If he was Verdzig’s man…
‘I’d have to either keep my distance, distrusting you, or make you my own.’
Allenvert had turned Peter and Olivier into his own loyal followers, allowing him to turn the annex into his own territory.
Barclava knew well that even Allenvert’s annex had once been filled with Verdzig’s lackeys.
‘In fact…’
He also knew that placing Peter, a boy from a fallen noble family with insufficient education, in the position of a servant had been part of Verdzig’s mocking intentions.
‘But that Peter became utterly loyal to Allenvert.’
Barclava wanted the same for himself. He wanted to break free from his brother’s shackles.
‘But escaping that man’s cage won’t be easy.’
Therefore, quietly, slowly, and with his intentions hidden, while showing obedience to his brother—
Barclava planned to reclaim his territory.
* * *
There was no way the story that reached Barclava’s ears wouldn’t also reach Verdzig’s.
So, when Verdzig heard about Allenvert defeating Nepherus the previous day, his reaction was as follows:
“He took down a fifth-tier monster?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“That’s absurd.”
It was so absurd that he almost suspected it was a false rumor.
‘But it can’t be.’
At one point, he had attributed Allenvert’s rapid growth to secretly building his strength while deceiving the public.
Even if that talent were real, he believed such growth couldn’t continue indefinitely.
‘What’s true no longer matters.’
The news that a 17-year-old boy, who hadn’t even had his coming-of-age ceremony, had defeated a fifth-tier monster was not something to be taken lightly.
Of course, it wasn’t an immediate threat. If Verdzig had stepped in, he would have beheaded Nepherus in a single strike.
‘But.’
What if it was all true?
It would mean Verdzig was still underestimating Allenvert. He couldn’t afford to make the mistake of underestimating him twice.
‘I’ll completely erase those seven years of absence from my mind.’
He would no longer look down on or underestimate his brother because of it.
Allenvert was a brother who rivaled Karl but would become an even greater threat in the future. Therefore—
‘Without hesitation, more covertly and threateningly.’
He needed to pressure and corner Allenvert using various methods.
‘You’ve chosen a path that endangers not only yourself but also those around you.’
That was the price Allenvert would pay for daring to compete with him and aim for the throne.
“The list?”
“It’s ready.”
The butler respectfully handed over the list. Verdzig skimmed through it.
It was filled with the names of underworld organizations that had recently shown unusual activity, such as sudden changes in leadership or behavior.
“Let’s investigate them one by one.”
In doing so, he might find organizations touched by Allenvert’s influence.
“Understood.”
And one more thing.
“What about Peter?”
“…It’s proceeding as planned.”
“Good.”
If Allenvert was still connected to the outside world, the source had to be that fallen noble boy, Peter, whose frequent outings had become suspicious.
Therefore, Verdzig intended to uncover Allenvert’s secrets, even if it meant using ‘somewhat violent’ methods.
* * *
“…Your Highness.”
Olivier called me. I had been looking out the window at the cityscape and checked the time. It was closer to noon than morning.
“Peter is running very late.”
“Yes.”
By now, Peter should have already returned.
“Something might have happened.”
“I’ll dispatch the Royal guards immediately.” Jeffrey said with a stern face.
“Do it.”
But if something had happened, it was already too late.
‘Who’s behind this? Should I have gone instead of Peter this time?’
A flood of thoughts raced through my mind.
However, if this was someone’s scheme, whether I went or Peter went, the trap would have been waiting either way.
‘Calm down.’
Peter is my servant and an employee of the Grunewald Ducal House. He’s not in a position to be easily targeted by anyone.
Moreover, the route Peter takes between the estate and the city is a safe zone patrolled by Zizek and the Security guards.
‘Then what on earth could have happened?’
Could he have overslept?
But I knew Peter wasn’t the type to do that.
“If he doesn’t return within an hour, I’ll go myself.”
“At that point, it won’t matter who’s behind it.”
The first person that came to mind was, of course, Verdzig. But I couldn’t rule out the possibility that someone else’s malice, which I hadn’t anticipated, had targeted Peter.
‘Peter.’
If I can’t even protect one of my own servants, I’m not fit to be the king of Grunewald.
“Your Highness. If the letter Peter was supposed to bring back has fallen into someone else’s hands…”
Olivier’s concern was realistic and painful, but right now, Peter’s life was more important.
‘So don’t be stubborn, Peter.’
Truthfully, I was worried Peter might do something reckless to protect the note. My subordinates in my past life often did such things.
‘Anyone who messes with our Peter is dead meat.’
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Pot]
[Proofreader - Kawaii]
Join our Discord for release updates!
https://discord.com/invite/dbdMDhzWa2
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