Chapter 186: From Now On, Advance at Full Speed (3)
The Marquis of Branford fell silent for a moment before asking again.
“War? With whom?”
“Count Cabaldi of the Ducal Faction.”
The Marquis, who had closed his mouth again, soon let out a faint chuckle as though he had realized something.
“Ah, so you’re saying Count Cabaldi attacked Fenris to secure food supplies?”
“......”
Even though the report clearly stated that Baron Fenris had initiated the war, the knight could not bring himself to respond to the Marquis, who was deliberately avoiding reality.
Instead, he simply handed over the hastily written report.
The war had already been ongoing for several days. Thanks to the Northern Merchant Guilds and informants, the news had spread rapidly.
“......”
As the Marquis of Branford read through the report, the color drained from his face.
Right now, both the Ducal Faction and the Royal Faction needed to tread carefully. There was no benefit to engaging in conflict.
If a civil war were to break out now, the damage on both sides would be catastrophic and uncontrollable.
It was only a short while ago that he had urged the nobles to exercise caution.
And yet, war had already begun. That lunatic had gone and caused an incident.
And not just any incident—an enormous one.
The Marquis of Branford, who had always prided himself on living with dignity, muttered a curse for the first time in his life.
“That damned lunatic...”
“Pardon?”
“No, forget it.”
The Marquis rubbed his temples. Just hearing about that man gave him a headache and made his head throb.
The nobles gathered in the meeting hall were equally at a loss, looking flustered.
“How... how could this have happened? Baron Fenris started a war? Against the Ducal Faction, no less!”
“This is why we shouldn’t have backed someone like him! A war at a time like this? The man is completely insane!”
“I told you we should’ve weighed him against a duck to check his sanity!”
The meeting hall descended into chaos as the nobles raised their voices in outrage.
The Marquis of Branford wrestled with his thoughts so intensely that it felt as if steam might start rising from his head.
Never in his life had he found himself in such a predicament.
‘What should I do? Was that man really just a complete madman all along?’
He had long known that the man was fearless and absurd, but he had also assumed there was something hidden beneath his antics.
Hadn’t they avoided the worst outcome of the drought thanks to Ghislain?
But looking at his actions now, it seemed impossible to be this recklessly insane.
To provoke not just any noble but one from the Ducal Faction? At a time when preventing civil war was paramount? Could he truly not grasp the political climate?
As the Marquis struggled with his dilemma, the nobles in the hall began to speak even more fervently and aggressively.
“We must expel Baron Fenris from our faction and sever all ties!”
“We need to explain to the Ducal Faction that this absolutely does not reflect our intentions!”
“The Minister of the Royal Household must withdraw their sponsorship! Let that bastard fend for himself, whether he lives or dies!”
“That lunatic must be a black magician! We should capture him immediately and confirm it!”
The Marquis of Branford kept his eyes closed and remained silent. He couldn’t make out what anyone was saying anymore; the ringing in his ears and the dizziness clouded his senses.
His anger boiled inside him.
‘Should I retreat here?’
It wouldn’t be difficult to step back from this situation. Humiliating as it would be, he could make ample amends to the Ducal Faction, abandon Ghislain, and let things end there.
The Ducal Faction would take care of Ghislain themselves. Most likely, Ferdium would also be dragged into ruin alongside him, but the situation wouldn’t escalate beyond that.
Of course, the Marquisate, having poured a staggering amount of money into Ghislain’s cosmetics venture, would suffer a massive blow. The Marquis’ authority would also plummet significantly.
Still, if it meant saving countless lives, that level of sacrifice might be worth enduring.
‘Should I discard him after all?’
At that moment, the Marquis of Branford recalled something Ghislain had said.
— “Please appoint me as the representative of the North.”
— “Count Desmond is a suspicious individual. It’s possible that we share a common enemy.”
‘Count Cabaldi possesses the largest iron mine in the North.’
‘And he frequently trades with Desmond.’
‘Desmond might be in league with the Ducal Faction.’
Something hovered just out of reach of his understanding. He couldn’t confirm it yet, but it didn’t seem like Ghislain had initiated this war thoughtlessly.
‘Relinquishing influence over the North is not an option.’
If he abandoned Ghislain, the Royal Faction would never again be able to establish a foothold in the North.
The first step was always the hardest, but once they started yielding, they would eventually lose their influence everywhere.
To give up Ghislain was to give up the North entirely. It was a no-win scenario.
‘That bastard... did he anticipate all of this when he chose me as his patron?’
If so, Ghislain was truly a villain. It would mean he had been planning this disaster from the very moment he sought the Marquis’ sponsorship.
It was infuriating, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on such grievances.
‘There’s no one else who can shield him but me.’
At the Marquis of Branford’s resolute reply, Count Fowd gritted his teeth. He still couldn’t make sense of the situation.
‘What is this? Why are they siding with that brat to this extent? Are they really willing to risk civil war? Over a mere upstart from the North?’
There was no way he could return without uncovering the Marquis of Branford’s intentions. Determined, Count Fowd provoked him again with a stronger approach.
“Are you truly considering resolving this by force? Are you confident you can? I’m aware Your Excellency has ample provisions, but if both sides suffer losses, it’s obvious which side will come out ahead, isn’t it?”
“Are you threatening me now, Count?”
Already irritated by Ghislain, the Marquis of Branford’s face twisted at Count Fowd’s insolent remark.
The Marquis of Branford was not usually prone to visible emotional changes. However, ever since getting involved with Ghislain, his temper had been worsening.
Even now, it wasn’t because he wanted to support Ghislain—it was because the brat had maneuvered things into a situation where Branford had no choice but to take his side.
Being forced to do something he didn’t want to was grating, and it was only natural that rage simmered within him, threatening to explode at any moment.
With a cold expression, the Marquis of Branford looked down at Count Fowd and continued speaking.
“If I sent only your severed lips back to the Duke, I’m sure my intentions would be made crystal clear.”
The chilling atmosphere made Count Fowd break into a cold sweat as he bowed his head.
If the Marquis of Branford had truly resolved to initiate civil war, he could have had Fowd executed on the spot.
And he was fully capable of doing so.
“I... I let my emotions get the better of me and misspoke. Please, forgive me.”
“I accept your apology. But you’re not the sharp man you once were, Count. You’ve grown rather dull.”
Count Fowd bit his lip and decided to withdraw for now. If the Royal Faction was truly determined to shield Ghislain, there would be no way for the Duke’s family to stop them.
The Duke’s family would have to choose between siding with the Royal Faction or pretending not to see anything at all.
‘Ugh, these people were meant to be swept away eventually, but to act at a time like this... Whose idea was this strategy?’
No one could have anticipated that the normally defensive Royal Faction and the royal family would suddenly make such a bold move.
It was a time when everyone was suffering, yet this was happening. What kind of plan was it? Was there a trap? What exactly were they aiming for? I couldn’t figure it out.
“Even the Royal Faction suffered greatly from the drought, so how can they act so confidently? Are they trying to provoke us into action?”
If they had set a trap and were lying in wait, the situation had to be carefully observed.
“But if Count Cabaldi falls, it will be problematic.”
The Cabaldi County, the largest iron-producing region in the north, was critical to the duchy. The decision to delay support slightly in favor of more urgent matters had led to an unforeseen disaster.
“Damn it, I didn’t expect that brat to gather such forces under the pretext of food supplies.”
Under normal circumstances, such a move would have been dismissed with a scoff. The armed forces of Count Cabaldi were renowned as some of the strongest in the north. The likes of Fenris could never hope to match them.
But Count Cabaldi lacked food. Even a mere siege would starve them all to death.
While mulling over the situation, Count Fowd turned to the Marquis of Branford.
“Do you swear the Royal Faction will also remain neutral and not intervene?”
“As long as your side does the same.”
“Understood. I will convey your wishes and ensure we maintain neutrality.”
“Do so.”
As Count Fowd turned to leave, his lips twitched, and his eyes glimmered coldly.
“Count Desmond will have to act.”
Count Desmond had maintained the pretense of neutrality as a contingency plan. He was a clever man. Even before orders arrived from the duchy, he would act swiftly and decisively.
Politics were always complicated. Justifications could be fabricated after a victorious war.
“With that, the Royal Faction, eager to avoid unnecessary losses, will have no choice but to retreat.”
Lost in such thoughts, Count Fowd exited the chamber. Behind him, the languid voice of the Marquis of Branford sounded again.
“Do not forget my warning, Count. Neither the Royal Faction nor the Ducal Faction should intervene.”
Count Fowd paused briefly, then turned back with a sly smile and nodded.
“Understood. We will never intervene.”
With those words, Count Fowd left the room entirely.
Even after his departure, the Marquis of Branford remained seated, his eyes closed in thought.
Then, the words of Ghislain resurfaced in his mind.
—“Count Desmond is a suspicious figure.”
If Count Desmond, the northern lord, was truly an agent of the duchy, he could use the pretext of aiding Count Cabaldi to strike Fenris from behind.
If that were to happen, Fenris and the Ferdium family would face total destruction.
The aftermath was obvious. Should the north fall completely into the duchy’s hands, the Royal Faction would find itself even more on the defensive.
In the current situation, there was no capacity to trust and support other northern territories.
“There’s no guarantee that fool will win. If he loses, the north will be lost. If we stand back, the north will still be lost.”
The drought had brought about a temporary lull, but a single reckless individual had made things more complex than before.
“Is civil war truly unavoidable?”
The Marquis of Branford let out a heavy sigh, but his voice turned resolute as he gave his next order.
“Butler.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Relay this message to Marquis McQuarrie: move Viscount Doren’s Northern Second Corps near Count Desmond’s territory and have them monitor the situation.”
“Do you mean...?”
“Focus on surveillance and containment for now. But if Count Desmond’s forces attack Baron Fenris...”
After a moment of silence, the Marquis continued with an icy gaze.
“Order them to strike Desmond immediately.”
The situation was spiraling out of control.