Chapter 25

Chapter 25 — Everyone’s Interests (3)

I hurried toward the reception room with the Marquis of Catalunya.

Inside, several knights covered from head to toe in dust were drinking tea.

The moment they saw the Marquis and me, they quickly rose to their feet.

“Just sit down. Looks like you rode your horses pretty hard to get here.”

“We brought a letter from Countess Karin Ronalf.”

One of the knights handed me a sealed scroll.

I immediately broke the seal, opened it, and read.

[To the esteemed Viscount Eric Marcel,]

[Both Count Ronalf and Count Ferrand were greatly pleased by the proposal you made. We will soon send our stored surplus food supplies to Marcel Port.

—With my deepest respect, Karin Ronalf.]

The Marquis of Catalunya had looked impatient, so I handed him the letter.

The moment he read it, he broke into a huge smile.

“Hahaha! Viscount Marcel! Thanks to you, something truly wonderful has happened!”

“Were you that worried about your food supply?”

“Indeed. Those damned pirates of Cagliari keep raiding our wheat transport ships, so I've constantly been on edge.”

If the navy escorted every transport ship, the cost of protection would become greater than the value of the cargo itself.

Transportation costs would rise dramatically.

But now, instead of buying expensive wheat shipped all the way from the Southern Continent, Catalunya could purchase cheaper wheat from somewhere much closer.

Since the distance was shorter, escorting the transport ships would also be easier and far less expensive.

Through my proposal, the Marquis had secured a stable route for his territory's food supply.

As a lord, there was no way he wouldn't be pleased.

The food problem of one's people was something that had to be treated as a top priority.

“If you can guarantee that the iron ore trade will also be tariff-free, we can begin trading immediately, even before the agreement is officially signed.”

The agreement would contain two major points.

Wheat being transported to Catalunya.

Iron ore being transported to Marcel.

Both would be completely tariff-free.

“Hahaha! Why drag this out any longer? Let's write the agreement today!”

Isn't this old man being a little too hasty?

Right now, the wheat trade probably looked far more important to him.

He was delighted at the moment, but he might regret this later.

Well, that was his problem.

Soon, I ordered the servants to prepare for the signing ceremony, and tables began to be arranged inside the banquet hall.

The Marquis of Catalunya and I then held the signing ceremony for the Catalunya-Marcel Mutual Free Trade Agreement in front of the many guests.

Once both of us signed the document and stamped our seals on it, the guests applauded loudly.

We clasped hands and exchanged polite words.

“I pray that God's blessing remains upon the Marcel Territory.”

“And I hope Catalunya and Marcel remain eternal friends.”

Then, completely out of nowhere, the Marquis began regretting the marriage arrangement that had fallen through.

“Damn it. I need to hurry up and have a daughter. I'll have one next year, so let's form a marriage alliance.”

Apparently, I was suddenly going to marry a zero-year-old baby who hadn't even been born yet.

In cases like this, they would only hold the wedding ceremony first.

Naturally, no one knew what the relationship between Catalunya and Marcel would look like nineteen years later, when his future daughter became an adult.

Still, there was no reason to reject such an empty promise.

This wasn't really the kind of agreement that absolutely had to be kept.

It was just something people said to make each other feel good.

“I'll look forward to it, Father-in-law.”

“Hahaha! Am I finally going to have a son-in-law?”

The Marquis of Catalunya shook my hand and happily slapped me on the arm.

At this point, it seemed like he genuinely didn't care what happened with the trial anymore.

The next day.

Marcel Square was packed with an enormous crowd.

A trial whose outcome had already been decided beforehand began on the platform built in the center.

I had already brought both Daniel, the presiding judge, and the Marquis of Catalunya, the lord representing the defendant's side, over to my side.

Naturally, this trial was going to end with Marco losing his head.

The defense lawyer continued making his utterly meaningless argument.

“Uh, esteemed Marquis of Catalunya, Viscount Marcel. Uh, thank you for presiding over this trial. Uh, standing here today, on behalf of my client, uh, I would like to firmly insist upon his obvious innocence. Uh, my client has been accused of commissioning a murder, but, uh, I will prove that these accusations are completely baseless. Uh, and furthermore—”

The defense lawyer was an uh villain.

Every single time he said uh, the spectators twisted their bodies as though they were in physical pain.

Even the Marquis of Catalunya's expression slowly transformed into that of an evil spirit barely resisting the urge to murder someone.

Fortunately, the presiding judge soon began reading the verdict.

Daniel's voice droned through the square.

I was so bored that I used [Low-Level Appraisal] on Marco, who was sitting in the defendant's seat.

[Marco (37 years old)]

[Son of Luca, Pirate King of Cagliari.]

Huh? What's this?

Marco, the wealthy merchant, was actually the son of a pirate.

Marco had probably arranged for his competitors' ships to be raided while allowing his own ships to sail safely.

Naturally, there was no way he wouldn't become successful.

And Luca was a pirate powerful enough to give the Marquis of Catalunya constant headaches.

The pirates attacking the wheat transport ships headed for Catalunya were Luca's men.

What happens if I cut this bastard's head off?

I cooled my emotions and tried to judge the situation rationally.

If I executed Marco right now, Pirate King Luca's group definitely wouldn't stay quiet.

Marcel Port might be burned down in retaliation.

They might appear day after day to raid merchant ships.

By the time the Kingdom of Franche's navy arrived, Marcel Port could already be reduced to ruins.

Should I just kill him and fight Luca head-on?

If this had been my previous life, I would've simply followed my temper and done exactly that.

But now I had to think about it.

Because I was a lord.

Countless lives belonging to my people were resting on my shoulders.

Ah, seriously. I don't have a choice. Let's stop the trial.

I raised my hand and stopped Daniel from continuing to read the verdict.

Deputy Director Daniel was practically one of my people now, so although he looked confused, he immediately stopped.

The Marquis of Catalunya, however, was different.

I approached him and whispered into his ear.

“There's something urgent I need to tell you.”

“What could possibly be important enough to stop the entire trial?”

Everyone in the square except me looked confused.

People were whispering among themselves, wondering why I had suddenly stopped the trial and whether they would no longer get to watch the execution.

“Marquis, Marco is the son of Luca, the pirate of Cagliari.”

“What?! What did you just say? Is that really true?”

The Marquis was apparently so shocked that he even forgot his usual manners.

“Yes. I swear before God that it is true.”

“...Even if you suddenly tell me something like that, how exactly are you planning to prove it?”

He wanted evidence.

Easy enough.

“I'll make him confess.”

“Right now?”

I immediately rose from my seat, drew Soul Reaper, and strode toward Marco in the defendant's seat.

“Huh? Huh?”

Apparently shocked by this sudden development, Marco could only make dumbfounded noises.

I placed my sword against his neck.

“Eek! W-What are you doing?!”

“You're Luca's son, aren't you? Luca, the Pirate King of Cagliari.”

“W-What are you talking about?! That's ridiculous! I'm a respectable merchant of Catalunya!”

I lowered my sword.

“I already know everything. If you confess the truth, I'll confiscate your property, but I'll spare your life.”

Marco had been cornered with a death sentence hanging over his head.

Naturally, he immediately swallowed the bait.

Perhaps he thought that as long as he stayed alive, the pirates would eventually rescue him somehow.

“Really?”

“Yes. I swear upon my honor as a noble. So be a man, hold your head high, and speak your father's name.”

Whether it was courage or simple recklessness, Marco suddenly shouted loudly.

“That's right! I am the son of Lord Luca, ruler of Cagliari and the great Pirate King!”

In the end, Marco confessed everything himself.

Gasps and exclamations erupted from everyone watching the trial.

“As promised, I forgive you and will spare your life.”

“Thank you, Viscount Marcel! I will never forget this kindness!”

Leaving behind Marco, who was somehow thanking me, I gave a faint smirk and returned to my seat.

I put away my sword, but the Marquis of Catalunya definitely won't let him go.

Sure enough, the Marquis shot to his feet.

His face had gone completely stiff.

Finding out that a merchant he had maintained friendly relations with was actually a pirate must have filled him with rage and betrayal.

“Viscount Marcel, excuse me, but I'll be leaving first. It seems I must return to my territory immediately.”

“Of course. Let's have a meal together next time.”

After learning the truth, the furious Marquis of Catalunya dragged Marco away and returned to his lord's vessel.

Anyone could tell what he was planning.

He was going to take Marco back to Catalunya and execute him there.

That should be enough to dump the problem on him, right?

The Marquis of Catalunya might have realized that I had intentionally pushed the problem onto him.

But he could also think that I had simply handed him the opportunity to execute Marco himself.

Either way, Marco would die at the Marquis's hands.

And the relationship between Marcel and Catalunya would only improve.

However, the people who had gathered to watch the execution apparently weren't happy.

They began shouting.

“What happened to the execution?! Why did you bring out the guillotine?!”

“Execute somebody!”

“Cut off that lawyer's head! The one who keeps saying ‘uh, uh’!”

Some people were even swearing.

The atmosphere was getting bad.

If this continued, my public support might drop.

I quickly summoned Raul, the Chief of Security.

“Go to the prison and bring out the death-row prisoners immediately.”

“Are you going to hold an execution?”

“Yes. We need to satisfy the people who gathered here.”

Somehow, this had turned into an unexpected group execution.

For now, I planned to bring out violent criminals who had been caught red-handed and turn their executions into a show.

Before the disappointed spectators could disperse, I shouted loudly.

“Bring the guillotine onto the platform!”

The spectators immediately erupted into cheers.

“Waaaaaaaah!”

The executioners standing around the guillotine encouraged the crowd to clap while performing sword dances to excite them further.

Before long, Raul returned with soldiers escorting the death-row prisoners.

“We brought them all.”

“Good. I'll decide which ones will be executed.”

Taking the lives of these prisoners was my responsibility.

I couldn't push that responsibility onto someone else.

If someone had to go to hell for it, then I would.

I first selected criminals who had committed crimes against children.

After them, I selected murderers and armed robbers.

All of them had been caught in the act, so the evidence and witnesses were undeniable.

The moment I selected them, the prisoners began sobbing as they were dragged toward the guillotine.

“U-Ugh... Please spare me. Please...”

I stared at the condemned prisoners.

“If you're going to resent someone, resent only me—the one who chose you.”

“You damned lord! Go to hell!”

“Fine. I'll see you there someday.”

The first prisoner had his neck placed inside the guillotine.

The executioner turned toward the spectators and shouted at the top of his lungs.

“This bastard sexually assaulted two children! Should he die?!”

“Kill him!”

“Cut off his head!”

The spectators roared with incredible force.

The executioner grabbed the guillotine's rope.

“The great people of Marcel have decided! Death!”

He pulled the rope.

—Clunk!

—Thud, roll...

“Waaaaaaaaah! Long live Marcel! Long live our lord!”

I had turned an execution into a spectacle merely to calm public opinion.

That was the moment I booked myself a first-class seat on the train to hell.

Luca, the Pirate King of Cagliari.

He was sailing toward Marcel Port with a fleet of twenty-one ships to rescue his son, Marco.

They were traveling at such extreme speed that the ships violently slammed against the waves, leaving every sailor completely exhausted.

The steamship carrying Luca was no exception.

Even so, Luca wanted them to go faster.

“Damn it! Can't we go any faster?! Overload the acceleration magic tool!”

“Boss, please calm down. If we accelerate any further, the keel might break.”

Luca grabbed the captain trying to stop him by the collar.

“You bastard! Would you still say that if it were your son's head on the line?!”

“S-Sorry, Boss. We'll push the ship as fast as possible.”

Just then, the lookout watching the waters ahead shouted.

“One small sailing ship is approaching!”

Everyone turned in that direction.

A small ship was rushing toward them at an unbelievable speed.

It was a high-speed vessel with an expensive acceleration magic tool meant for large ships forcefully installed into it.

Of course, ships modified like this were usually pirate vessels.

Just as the captain had said, the keel could break, or the entire ship could overturn.

Ordinary merchant vessels would never modify their acceleration magic tools like this.

Luca recognized the approaching ship.

“Isn't that the ship we sent ahead to Marcel?”

“Yes. It seems they've rescued Young Master Marco.”

The approaching vessel carried the special unit that had been dispatched to bring Marco back.

Every pirate ship stopped to receive them.

Soon, Luca's steamship and the special unit's smaller vessel pulled alongside each other.

“Marco! Marco! Your father is here! Where are you?!”

Pirate King Luca leaped onto the smaller ship and shouted his son's name.

But then—

“Boss, we're sorry! The Marquis of Catalunya...”

Luca's face twisted with rage.

My son is dead!

—Slash!

Unable to control his anger, Luca drew his sword and cut down the captain of the steamship.

The steamship had gotten a new captain in exactly one second.

The shocked sailors quickly rushed to stop Luca.

“B-Boss! Please calm down!”

“My only son is dead! How the hell am I supposed to calm down?!”

Hearing this, one of the special unit members hurriedly shouted.

“No! Young Master Marco is still alive!”

“What? Didn't you just say the Marquis of Catalunya killed him?”

“I never said he killed him. When we arrived at Marcel, we heard that Viscount Marcel had forgiven Young Master Marco and released him. But by then, the Marquis of Catalunya had already taken him back to his own territory.”

“...Oh. Really?”

Luca slowly looked down at the steamship's captain.

He was already a headless corpse.

Feeling slightly awkward, Luca cleared his throat and quickly changed the subject.

“Ahem! All ships will head for Catalunya! We'll rescue Marco and burn their port to the ground!”

Still holding his blood-soaked sword, he gave the order to the new captain.

The new captain, who had been the first mate only a minute ago, stared at him with wide eyes.

He wanted to say something.

But he knew perfectly well that if he talked back, this ship would probably get another new captain.

So he hurriedly shouted at the crew.

“We're heading to Catalunya! Prepare for battle!”

The new captain couldn't help wondering whether even half of their twenty-two ships would manage to return alive.

Pirate King Luca, however, didn't care about such things at all.