Chapter 238 - Chapter 231: The Invasion ①
Laden, the capital of the County of Kivileft, is known as the largest port city in the Kingdom of Roadberg. With a population of thirty thousand in the capital and seventy thousand across the entire county, it has flourished as the gateway for maritime trade with surrounding nations, including the Republic of Betumia, which lies far across the sea.
Before the war, many ships visited from the coastal regions of the Kingdom of Lancel to the west, and a small number of merchant ships occasionally arrived from the Empire of Pallas to the east. Ships from countries even further west and east also visited via coastal navigation.
Even the trading city of Laden was not exempt from the effects of this year's disastrous harvest.
Although they had managed to secure a contract for large-scale food imports from the Republic of Betumia, that country was a distance of two weeks' travel one way by sea. Furthermore, since the Kingdom of Roadberg did not yet possess deep-sea navigation technology, trade had been conducted only in the form of Betumian transport ships traveling back and forth between the Kingdom of Roadberg and their home country.
Therefore, they could not head over there themselves. Both the collection and transport of food were left to Betumia.
Substantial food imports would not arrive until autumn. Until then, they could only conduct trade as they did in ordinary years. While normal trade included some food imports, the amount was a mere pittance while the entire kingdom was falling into famine.
Furthermore, the current lord of the County of Kivileft, Maximilian Kivileft, did not keep that meager amount of food within the territory, selling almost all of it outside the borders. Even with exorbitant prices and customs duties raised as high as possible, the food still sold. Blinded by money, Maximilian took immediate profit without considering the relief of his own people.
Moreover, he had barely implemented any tax reductions for the wheat that had suffered the poor harvest. The society of the County of Kivileft, where the gap between classes was already widening, became further divided, and the effects of the famine spread to the point where some among the poor and slaves began eating human corpses.
At the end of September in the Royal Year 218. Ignoring the chaos within the territory, Maximilian was drinking from midday in his private room at the Kivileft estate.
His accompaniment for the alcohol was smoked meat from rare monsters, personally sourced from Betumia. He popped the smoked meat—slices of which cost a single silver coin each—into his mouth as if he were gnawing on cheap jerky, chewing without much savoring, and washed it down with high-grade liquor that could cost a commoner's annual income per bottle.
"...Honestly, those poor people are so noisy it's disgusting."
Maximilian muttered to himself, exhaling a breath that smelled of a mixture of alcohol and smoked meat.
Recently, there had been a succession of poor people coming to the estate to plead, claiming it was a petition to the lord. Whether it was asking to lower taxes or to distribute food, it was nothing but bothersome. Even if the harvest decreased due to a poor crop, that was the responsibility of the farmers who had not prepared for the cold waves and snow. Why should he, the lord and a high noble, have to clean up their mess?
"The people exist to pay taxes. If they die because they cannot pay their taxes, they can just die on their own. Right, Rottenmeier?"
"...It is exactly as you say, Master," the head maid, who was waiting in the corner of the room, answered when Maximilian called out.
This elderly head maid always behaved and spoke in ways that were convenient for Maximilian. She was truly a convenient and comfortable paragon of a servant.
"If only the poor were as sensible and intelligent as you. Especially the ones who came this morning, they were unpleasant... well, their reactions after I cut down two of them as an example were amusing, though."
Today, residents of a beastman settlement near the capital of Laden had come in a group to petition. Because they were far too noisy in front of the estate, he had gone out himself to yell at them, and among them, a rabbit-person couple had the audacity to cling to his feet. With the filthy hands of beastman farmers, they had actually touched the clothes of the lord himself.
He had been so enraged that he declared them guilty of assaulting a noble and had the guards cut them down on the spot. Then, the other beastmen had made a great fuss, crying and screaming as they fled back home. It had been a slightly pleasant sight.
If other people came to petition from now on, it might be effective to cut them down in the same way. As he thought about this, the alcohol he had grown tired of tasting felt slightly more delicious.
Within a few days, or perhaps as early as today, a fleet loaded with large quantities of food from Betumia would arrive. Within that fleet, there should be gifts from the Betumian merchants. He should be able to receive new fine wines or rare snacks. Perhaps he should finish this bottle quickly.
Thinking such things, he stood up from his chair for a change of pace, opened the large window of the room, and stepped out onto the terrace. The cityscape of the capital of Laden, the symbol of his wealth, spread out before him, and the sea breeze brushed against his face, which was slightly flushed from the alcohol. It was truly comfortable.
"Hm? That is... oh, the fleet has arrived. That was fast."
Looking toward the sea, he saw the silhouettes of several large ships. It was the Betumian transport fleet.
With this, large quantities of food would be brought into the Kingdom of Roadberg. The House of Kivileft could make a huge profit again from the taxes on those sales, and he could expect a considerable amount in bribes from the merchants. He could also put the other nobles and the royal family in his debt. Maximilian felt a smirk involuntarily form on his face.
Just then, the sound of thumping footsteps running down the hallway approached. Along with it came the clattering sound of armor rubbing together. It must be the territorial army soldiers.
He disliked the territorial army, which produced no wealth and only consumed military expenses, but since he was in a good mood, he wasn't even angry that they were running noisily through the estate.
"Enter—"
"Report! An urgent report!"
Before Maximilian could grant permission to enter, the soldier opened the door on his own, stepped into the room, and dropped to one knee before Maximilian. Seeing this, the head maid waiting by the door was taken aback.
"How noisy, what are you rushing for? It's a report on the fleet's arrival, isn't it? I can already see them from here. Immediately—"
"A report from the royal capital! A declaration of war has been made from the Republic of Betumia to the Kingdom of Roadberg! It happened this morning!"
Unable to comprehend the report instantly, Maximilian froze. After a gap of several seconds, he opened his mouth.
"...W-what!? T-t-there's no way that's possible!"
"No, there is no mistake! A declaration of war was issued to His Majesty Oscar Roadberg III by the Ambassador of the Republic of Betumia stationed in the royal capital! It is a direct order from His Majesty to immediately prepare the defenses of the port!"
Faced with the soldier who spoke with a grim expression, Maximilian turned back toward the sea, staggering with a pale face. The fleet had come much closer than before. The lead ship was already entering the port.
"No... no... then, then that fleet is..."
"R-reporting!"
Another soldier tumbled in toward the panicked Maximilian and dropped to one knee.
"The fleet of the Republic of Betumia has launched an attack on the port! The guard ships have already been annihilated! The port guards are attempting to fight back, but the numbers... the enemy's numbers are too great!"
"A-aaa... no... how can this be..."
Maximilian sank powerlessly into his chair with a vacant expression. The head maid waiting in the room also had a pale face and held her hand to her mouth. The two soldiers who reported looked at Maximilian with bewildered expressions, waiting for instructions.
"Count Kivileft! Are you in here!"
The person who entered then was Knight Ernst Alessandri.
Ernst was the current head of a lower-ranking noble family of military origin, hired with money by the House of Kivileft. The wealthy Kivileft family kept several such lower nobles as bureaucrats in addition to their retainers.
Ernst, who was usually nothing more than someone to whom he dumped the tedious management of the territorial army, now seemed like a very reliable existence to Maximilian.
"Oh, Ernst! You've come at a good time! What, what should I do!? Where are Dietlinde and Julian!?"
After frowning slightly at Maximilian, who was falling apart in a manner unbecoming of a lord noble, Ernst answered.
"...I am not aware of the whereabouts of the Madam and the young master. The port will fall into enemy hands shortly. Landing can no longer be avoided. Currently, Knight Saturno, the commander of the territorial army, is in charge of constructing defensive positions and directing the evacuation of the people within the capital. I would like Your Excellency, as the lord, to strive to maintain the morale of the territorial army—"
"W-what are you saying! Look at that fleet! Surely all of those are an invasion force disguised as a food transport fleet!? T-there's no way we can win! Quickly, quickly get me and my family away!"
"Do you intend to abandon the people and flee only yourself!"
When Maximilian screamed, Ernst shouted back with a spirit that far surpassed him. Maximilian, who had never been opposed by him until now, was stunned with surprise.
"...I can accept the evacuation of the young master and the grandchild. It is a necessary measure to ensure the bloodline of the House of Kivileft does not end. However, it is unacceptable for you to flee out of cowardice. You are the lord of this land. You are a lord noble who possesses a port and is entrusted with the maritime border. It is not permitted to flee for the sake of your own life without taking any action."
Faced with Ernst, who spoke quietly but with a menacing intensity that allowed no rebuttal, Maximilian also fell silent.
"You! Are you here! What are you dawdling for!"
"Father! Father—!"
At that moment, Dietlinde, dressed in easy-to-move clothing consisting of a shirt and trousers and carrying a sword, and Julian, who was on the verge of tears, arrived.
Julian brought along his wife, who had married into the family two years ago from a certain noble house in the southeast. The wife, who was not intelligent, much like Julian, also had a half-crying face, and in her arms was their eldest son born last autumn—Maximilian's first grandchild.
"How long are you going to stand there blankly! You are the lord! Evacuate Julian and the others, and you, prepare for battle!"
"It is as the Madam says! Your Excellency, if you do not stand on the battlefield, the army will not follow!"
"Father! We'll die at this rate! Let's flee quickly!"
While Dietlinde, Ernst, and Julian each raised their voices as they pleased, Maximilian held his head for a moment, and then,
"Shut up!"
He slammed his fist onto the desk and shouted.