Inheriting the Novel

Chapter 27 : Victory Banquet (1)

Victory Banquet (1)

After the victory parade.

A grand banquet was held at the royal palace in Shioten, the capital of the Talua Kingdom.

The banquet was scheduled to last about three days, and rooms were provided in the palace for provincial nobles for their convenience.

I would have preferred to rest as much as possible, but it wasn't as if the main hero of the war could simply be absent.

"Wh-whoa, the palace really is amazing. It's completely different from a manor..."

Normally, Monet would have had to stay separately with the servants, but at my request, she was able to share a room with me.

The room was so spacious anyway, and there were two extra beds, so it wasn't really an issue.

"But... is it really okay for me to be here? I don't seem to be doing anything special..."

Monet looked around nervously, as if she felt quite uncomfortable.

Truthfully, Monet didn't have much to do, just as she said. The royal maids took care of any services I needed instead.

'I never imagined I'd have the chance to be attended to by the royal maids.'

Perhaps to honor the war hero, they were extremely courteous.

The sheer size of the room was impressive, but honestly, the maids' deference was even more surprising.

Many royal maids hailed from noble families and tended to be quite proud.

"This is why people say connections are everything."

"Y-young master, you shouldn't say things like that so carelessly."

"It's just you here, so what's the problem?"

As I spoke indifferently, lying on the soft bed, I sensed the ring flicker.

[Those connections of yours seem to want to use you, too.]

'That's how the world works. I plan to use them as well, so I feel at ease with it that way.'

[So, are you really going to participate in the Imperial Tournament?]

'Of course.'

Once it had been publicly announced in front of the masses, there was nothing for me to gain by dodging it.

If I thought about it, it was quite an honor and also an opportunity to make my family's name known. It wasn't a bad thing.

Besides...

'I was planning to visit the empire sooner or later anyway.'

[Because of that lizard princess?]

'Since when did dragons become lizards?'

[Hmph. In the end, they all die when punched by me—so it's the same.]

I clicked my tongue at her snarky retort.

Honestly, where in the world could you find a Saintess like this?

But I was curious.

'Just how strong is she, anyway?'

Little was known about the legend of the Saintess.

Whether the Altair Order had kept things under wraps or not, the famous legends were that she inherited the blood of God and was the demonkin's nemesis.

But the way she put it, she seemed to believe that all living things die if punched—a straightforward, simple-minded philosophy in the name of equality.

[What on earth do you think I am? That's not true, you know?]

'Believe what you want. Besides, my reason for going to the empire isn't the princess.'

I stroked the black dragon mark on my palm, hidden beneath my glove.

I was admittedly curious about the princess, but that was secondary.

'If things had gone according to the original story, who do you think would have participated in the Imperial Tournament?'

[Ah...!]

The only reason I could represent the Talua Kingdom at the Imperial Tournament was because I defeated Baian Deoric, the kingdom's strongest young knight.

So what happened in the original work?

The answer was obvious.

Whoever defeated Baian would most certainly have been chosen as the representative, just like now.

'Fabian must have been the representative. If I want to keep taking advantage of the synopsis, I need to follow Fabian's footsteps as closely as possible.'

The synopsis was a weapon far more powerful than anything else in my possession.

With foreknowledge, I could respond to any situation.

Thanks to it, I'd solved various incidents and received substantial rewards.

However, the synopsis had a critical flaw.

There was no guarantee that the future would unfold as the synopsis described.

Now that the protagonist, Fabian, was gone, events he would have triggered might not happen in this reality.

That is, until someone else stepped into that role.

'More than anything, I have to deal with the world's destruction that Father mentioned.'

Father said that since Fabian, the protagonist, disappeared, this world was headed for destruction.

If the world perished, everything I'd struggled to gain would turn to ashes in an instant.

That was something I could never allow.

Well, even if it was troublesome and risky, if I could claim everything Fabian had enjoyed in return, that wouldn't be too bad.

'If I go to the empire, I'm sure I'll see the continuation of the synopsis.'

After organizing my upcoming tasks in my mind, I called out to Monet, who had been touring the room.

"Monet, any news from Dorian?"

"No, nothing in particular."

Dorian, Monet's father, was the steward managing the House Vanhart's mansion.

He was extremely capable, and it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say the only reason I could act as the head of the household in Father's stead was because of him.

In fact, he was currently taking care of all matters regarding House Vanhart on my behalf.

"Tell him to hang in there just a little longer. He'll be getting some help soon."

"Help? But... young master, aren't you heading to the empire?"

"That's why I plan to ask His Grace the Duke."

"Oh, right!"

Monet beamed with a naïve smile.

Lately, in our conversations, I often felt that Monet seemed to think of Duke Gale as little more than a neighborhood uncle.

Though Duke Gale must have gleaned all kinds of information from Monet because of her innocence.

'But he underestimated Monet too much.'

Naïve as she was, Monet was not a girl who would carelessly spill information.

Some of the information Duke Gale had learned from her was subtly distorted, and the most important parts were left out.

'Half-baked information can be just as dangerous as none at all.'

In any case, Duke Gale must already know what's publicly available about our family.

But that didn't mean I needed to reveal everything without reserve.

[Indeed, if the Duke protects your territory, nothing should happen even if you're gone—no conflicts with other territories, for example.]

'That's not enough. With things as they are, I need to take full advantage of the situation.'

Using the Imperial Tournament as leverage, I was determined to get as much as possible from Duke Gale.

It would be hard for him to refuse, as there was probably no one to replace me, the one who defeated Baian.

* * *

"Clay Vanhart?"

Nior Bellen.

Heir to Count Bellen and an intermediate-rank Sword Expert knight. He was frowning deeply as he recalled what happened earlier that morning.

"That guy is going to be the representative at the Imperial Tournament? Isn't there something wrong here?"

Count Bellen's territory was quite close to House Vanhart's, so there had been several occasions for interactions.

Nior's impression of Clay at the time was that he was just the prideful son of a fallen count's family—and that was all.

"He's just a sword user, isn't he? And yet he supposedly defeated an intermediate-rank demonkin?"

"Not only that, but they say he led an independent unit and captured Prince Wolfran of the Kainzel Kingdom."

A few nobles, loyal to Nior, whispered eagerly as if tattling.

"He was the captain of the independent unit? And he captured Prince Wolfran?"

Based only on what he heard, it would not be an exaggeration to call Clay a hero who brought the war to an end.

"Reaching new heights in swordsmanship doesn't happen overnight. Clearly, the Duke's influence is at play here."

"But what would His Grace gain from helping a fallen family like House Vanhart?"

"How should I know? It doesn't make sense, logically. Hey, Philip."

"Y-yes?"

Philip Polsen.

He had joined the independent unit that Clay commanded and earned considerable recognition for his achievements.

He originally belonged to Nior's faction, which left him feeling awkward standing among them.

"You participated in the independent unit, right? Are the rumors about Clay Vanhart true?"

At Nior's sharp question, Philip was in a bind.

'What a pain. He just wants me to say no.'

He was tempted to simply agree with what Nior wanted to hear, but he just couldn't.

After all, Philip was one of the knights who had witnessed Clay beheading a demonkin up close.

'The sight of him wielding that crimson sword was far from ordinary.'

When he lost to Clay with a single strike, he'd been bitter, and wondered, like Nior, if some trick was involved.

But not anymore.

A knight who could decapitate a demonkin wouldn't stoop to tricking someone like him.

Eventually, Philip opened his mouth hesitantly.

"... For the most part, it's true."

"What?"

"He did cut down the demonkin, and he captured the enemy commander. And though it's a subtle rumor, they say he even fought and defeated Baian Deoric."

The mood grew chilly at Philip's words.

The other nobles shot Philip looks of disbelief, while Nior stared daggers at him.

"Then let me ask one thing. In your opinion, if you and Clay Vanhart were to fight, who would win?"

"Excuse me?"

From Philip's point of view, it was such a preposterous question that he was taken aback.

Nior's expression grew more displeased at Philip's bewilderment.

"A-are you planning to challenge him to a duel?"

"Why not? You heard about the authority His Majesty granted that guy, didn't you?"

"You mean the right to participate in the Imperial Tournament...?"

"What else would it be?"

Only then did Philip realize why Nior kept harping on Clay's ability.

'He wants to take away the right to participate in the Imperial Tournament.'

The Imperial Tournament was the most widely watched event across the continent.

To represent your nation in it was the ultimate honor for a knight. Naturally, any talented knight would want the opportunity.

'... Could others be thinking the same thing?'

Looking around the banquet hall, he saw several nobles eyeing Clay with the same dangerous ambition as Nior.

'Idiots.'

Philip had to bite his lip to suppress the smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. It reminded him so much of his former self.

"... I see. Perhaps it would be best to experience it yourself. Though, I doubt Count Vanhart would agree to such an absurd demand."

"Philip Polsen, are you out of your mind?"

"No, sir. ... If you'll excuse me, I'll take my leave."

"What? You...!"

He could hear Nior shouting something behind him, but Philip withdrew from the group.

'No need to stand beside someone who's about to get crushed anyway.'

It was tiresome to rely on someone else's power just to fit in.

'... Perhaps I'll go find where Sir Ribina is.'

They weren't close, but they'd served under Clay together, so at least they could talk.

Polsen made his way through the noisy banquet, heading for where Zelbin was.

* * *

"Y-young master, is it really okay for me to be here?"

"It was at His Grace's request. There shouldn't be any problem."

Walking into the hall, the lights from the ornate chandeliers spread in every direction.

Monet's eyes sparkled as if she'd entered a fairy tale, though she shrank a little at the sight of nobles passing by.

"... You seem so calm, even though this is your first banquet too, young master."

"Don't lump us together. I'm a count—a count, you know."

"And yet you talk as if you've always been one, though you succeeded only today."

"What does timing matter?"

Honestly, I wasn't that interested in the banquet.

Having grown up in poverty, all I could think as I looked around was how much everything must cost.

'But it seems Monet has caught Duke Gale's favor more than I thought.'

I never imagined Monet would get sent a dress for the banquet beforehand.

Thanks to the maids' help, Monet was dressed up like a noble lady, looking both grateful and overwhelmed.

[You'd better be careful in case other nobles try something.]

'I know.'

Monet, adorned by the maids, was surprisingly beautiful. Just by appearance, no one would guess she was a servant.

Only now did I realize that Monet's skin was even smoother than most noble ladies'.

'At least the banquet won't be boring.'

[Hm? Ah, yes.]

Monet was oblivious, but Grancesia seemed to have noticed.

That someone's gaze was boring into me.