Chapter 241

The Tiger’s Den

“That part shouldn’t be much of a problem.”

In the middle of the desolate silence that had fallen over the plain, Vans was the first to speak.

“You’re operating under the name Karath right now anyway. As long as you don’t openly admit that you’re Roven, I don’t think it will matter.”

“Wouldn’t the wanted posters give me away?”

“That incident happened four years ago. I don’t know how closely the portrait on the notice resembles you, but I doubt anyone will recognise you that easily after so long.”

I nodded at Vans’s explanation. I obviously could not tell them that the illusion bracelet allowed me to alter my appearance, but the face I currently wore was slightly different from the one I had used four years ago while operating under the alias Roven.

“In the end, your face isn’t really the problem,” Vans continued. “It’s the unusual combination of traits. A man wielding an enormous axe who is both an Aura User and a mage.”

“So since Karath isn’t the only person in the world who uses an axe, as long as he doesn’t use magic, there shouldn’t be much reason to connect him to Roven.”

“Or he could use magic and hide the axe and aura instead, but...”

Everyone stopped talking and glanced at me.

My build looked like it had been made specifically for swinging an enormous axe while using aura. No sane person would look at me and think mage first.

“Hmm. It may not be a problem for us, but are you truly all right with this, Young Master Van Swellen?” Guts asked carefully. “Mr. Karath did kill knights of the Kingdom of Winston. If his identity is exposed while he is travelling with you, couldn’t that create difficulties for House Ludwig?”

“That won’t be a problem.”

Vans smiled with complete ease.

“Viscount Lindberg was aligned with Count Queln, and Count Queln has never had a good relationship with our family.”

Then Vans added with a cheerful laugh, “Of course, after Viscount Lindberg lost seven knights, Count Queln abandoned him anyway.”

Apparently, noble politics had already taken care of half the problem for me.

“In any case, there shouldn’t be any serious issue,” Vans said. “We should start moving before more pursuers find us.”

“Agreed. Staying here any longer would only invite trouble.”

Once the decision was made, we searched the wrecked wagon and gathered whatever food had survived along with the remaining bandages. After quickly stopping the worst of our bleeding, we resumed our journey toward the border on foot.

Losing the wagon delayed us by nearly a full day, but fortunately no new pursuers appeared before we reached the frontier.

At the border checkpoint of the Kingdom of Partan, we brought along the three surviving horses that had belonged to Viscount Tex and his knights. We sold one of them and used the money to purchase a small wagon, then harnessed the remaining two to it before passing through the checkpoint.

Clop. Clop.

The border fortifications of Partan slowly receded behind us with every beat of the horses’ hooves.

Clop. Clop.

And in the opposite direction, the border of the Kingdom of Winston grew steadily closer.

“At last, the end is in sight.”

“Hahaha. Does this mean our life on the run is finally over?”

Relief appeared on everyone’s faces as they stared toward Winston. I wore the same smile outwardly, but inwardly, a very different thought was circling through my mind.

Is this really the end?

When I first persuaded Vans to return home, I had suggested that the assassination attempt might have been the result of overly loyal retainers acting without the eldest son’s knowledge. But that had mostly been because Vans insisted that he and his brother were close. I had simply shaped my argument around what he was willing to accept.

Whether the eldest son genuinely cared about Vans was another matter entirely.

Maybe I had consumed too many dramas, novels, and movies in my previous life, but something about this situation made me doubt the convenient explanation.

From my perspective, we might currently be travelling directly toward the place where the true mastermind was waiting.

Of course, the duke himself, father to both sons, would also be there. That alone would make another blatant assassination attempt far more difficult. But if someone inside the family truly wanted Vans dead, I doubted the danger would simply disappear.

Still, that was not entirely bad for me.

If the opposing sides were clearly defined, there was more to gain.

Remove the eldest son from the succession. Help Vans become duke. Then use Vans as a bridge toward an alliance between Winston and the Greenskin Alliance.

That was the broad picture I had begun drawing.

In other words, I was approaching the greatest gamble of my life with my own neck sitting on the table.

Chapter 242

The Tiger’s Den

Crossing the border into the Kingdom of Winston turned out to be surprisingly easy.

The moment Vans presented his real identification bearing the crest of House Ludwig, the process became little more than a formality. The noble responsible for the checkpoint even came personally to greet him and offered both a carriage and a military escort to the next city.

Vans initially tried to refuse, but I reminded him that we still had not reached House Ludwig and another assassination attempt remained possible. Eventually, he accepted the escort.

Apparently, what we had been riding until now barely qualified as a carriage.

“Wow. This is too comfortable, Young Master.”

“So those things we were riding before really were just boxes with wheels.”

After spending days in a cheap freight wagon of the sort used by small merchant caravans, stepping into a proper noble carriage was almost shocking. The suspension alone made an enormous difference. For several days, we travelled in comfort while pretending to be the entourage of a young noble returning from an excursion.

We continued northwest.

Eventually, vast fields of wheat spread across the horizon.

“From here onward, we’re inside the territory of House Ludwig,” Vans explained. “This is still the outer region, though. It will take another full day by carriage to reach the ducal castle.”

“The territory is that large?”

My surprise must have been obvious.

“House Ludwig is the foremost knightly family in the kingdom,” Wiggins said. “It is only natural that the lands granted by His Majesty are extensive.”

“There’s another reason,” Vans added. “Northern Winston borders the Holy Empire, and nearly all of House Ludwig’s territory is concentrated in the north.”

“Hmm.”

I looked back toward the endless wheat fields.

“Now that you mention it, all of this grain suddenly looks less like farmland and more like military provisions for a war against the Holy Empire.”

Once they explained it, I understood the structure. House Ludwig effectively served as a frontier bulwark. Their title happened to be duke rather than margrave, but their role within the kingdom was remarkably similar.

“The sun is starting to set,” Vans said. “Let’s rest for the night and continue tomorrow. It would be better to arrive at the ducal castle tomorrow afternoon than enter late at night.”

We followed his suggestion and stopped at a settlement belonging to House Ludwig.

It was too large to feel like an ordinary village, yet too small to be called a proper city.

Naturally, the moment word spread that the duke’s second son had arrived, the family retainer responsible for the settlement came immediately to greet Vans and bowed deeply before him.

“Ahem.”

What amused me was the look on Guts’s group.

Watching a middle-aged noble retainer lower his head to Vans filled them with obvious pride. None of them had even been formally knighted yet, but with each passing day they looked more and more like true knights following their chosen lord.

The retainer introduced himself as Baron Romane, a vassal formally invested by Duke Ludwig. He treated Vans with the utmost respect, and since we were Vans’s companions, we also received excellent hospitality.

After sleeping comfortably for the first time in days, we departed early the next morning. It was shortly after noon when the ducal castle finally appeared.

Incredible.

Ludwig Castle was taller and more imposing than any human fortress I had seen since leaving the Grimwood Mountains.

It was not especially ornate. Instead, the entire structure radiated solidity and overwhelming scale, as if the castle itself embodied the martial nature of the family that ruled it.

In my former life, something like this would have been the sort of magnificent European fortress tourists crossed oceans to see. I should have been impressed by its grandeur.

Yet strangely, to my eyes, the enormous castle looked like a gigantic tiger with its jaws spread open.

“Welcome back, Young Master Vans.”

When our carriage reached the entrance, two knights stepped aside and a middle-aged man emerged from within.

“Uncle Lawrence!”

Vans nearly flew out of the carriage and hurried toward him.

“Did you know I was coming?”

“Baron Romane sent word last night, Young Master. He estimated that you would arrive sometime this afternoon, so I came to wait for you.”

“You didn’t need to stand outside just for me.”

“Hahaha. It was the duke’s order. His Grace instructed me to receive you personally and escort you to the audience chamber.”

“My father did?”

“Yes, Young Master.”

Lawrence then turned toward the rest of us.

“His Grace also instructed me to bring your companions.”

All of us exchanged puzzled looks.

No matter how close we had become to Vans, we were still commoners, not even formal knights. Why would a duke specifically request our presence?

Something about the situation felt strange.

“Then we’ll all go together, Uncle.”

Thankfully, Vans answered before the silence became awkward. He then introduced us one by one, starting with Guts.

“And everyone, this is Uncle Lawrence. He has taught me swordsmanship since I was a child.”

I immediately understood.

I had sensed it from the moment Lawrence appeared, but the pressure around him was considerable. He did not feel quite as dangerous as Viscount Tex, yet there was no doubt in my mind that he was an Aura Expert.

“A pleasure to meet you. Lawrence Ludwig.”

He offered us his hand.

He shared the Ludwig surname with Vans while still addressing him as Young Master, which meant he was probably from a branch line of the ducal family.

After exchanging brief greetings, we followed Lawrence into the castle.

The interior matched the exterior perfectly. There was little needless decoration. Instead, everything was simple, orderly, practical, and solid in a way that created its own kind of elegance.

Perhaps because of the grandeur, or perhaps simply because they were common-born mercenaries walking through the residence of a duke, Guts and the others followed Lawrence in complete silence.

“This way.”

After several minutes of walking through long corridors and climbing to the third floor, we finally reached an enormous pair of doors.

Lawrence gave us a moment to straighten our clothes, then nodded toward one of the knights stationed outside.

“Your Grace. Young Master Van Swellen and his companions have arrived.”

“Let them enter.”

The knights opened the doors.

Only then did we step inside.

“Father! Brother!”

Vans’s voice overflowed with genuine happiness as he approached the men waiting in the center of the audience chamber.

A middle-aged man who looked to be in his early forties sat on a sofa. He was presumably Duke Ludwig.

Standing behind him was a handsome young man in his mid-twenties.

The eldest son.

Potentially the man who had tried to kill Vans.

Naturally, that should have been where my attention went.

Instead, the moment I faced Duke Ludwig, I almost forgot the eldest son existed.

What the hell...?

At first glance, the duke’s presence only seemed somewhat stronger than Viscount Tex’s.

That should have meant I could at least imagine fighting him.

Yet every instinct in my body was screaming the opposite.

Do not fight him.

Danger.

It felt exactly like the first time I had encountered a Drake back when I was still merely a warrior of the Bloodclaw Tribe.

The phrase impossible opponent kept forcing its way into my mind.

He’s hiding his strength.

At first, it was only instinct. His visible presence did not match the warning hammering through my body.

If the level he openly displayed was already above Viscount Tex, then how strong was he really?

Damn it.

There was another Aura Master.

The continent supposedly had only five Aura Masters.

Apparently, there was a sixth one hidden right here.

I thought I was walking into a tiger’s den.

Instead, I had discovered a dragon crouching inside, pretending to be a tiger.

“Are you coming in?”

I had unconsciously stopped moving.

Lawrence, who had entered last, smiled gently at me.

Vans and Guts’s group had already stepped farther into the chamber and were looking back with mild confusion.

Tch.

There was no turning back now.

I forced myself to enter fully.

Sss.

Once Lawrence stepped inside as well, the doors quietly closed behind us.

That faint sound somehow resembled the lid of my coffin shutting.

Haa.

Stay calm.

Even inside a tiger’s den, you survive if you keep your head.

Though this felt less like a tiger’s den and more like a dragon’s lair.

I tried to steady myself with another thought.

He’s an idiot father who doesn’t even know someone tried to kill his younger son. Maybe he’s incredibly strong but stupid!

While I desperately hypnotised myself, Vans happily introduced us to the duke.

“Father, these are the companions I met during my journey.”

Duke Ludwig calmly swept his gaze across us.

The moment our eyes met, a strange sense of discomfort crossed my mind.

Does this man truly know nothing?

His emotionless gaze felt as though it could see through everything placed before him.

Could someone like this genuinely fail to notice that his eldest son or his own retainers were trying to kill Vans?

“Oh?”

For the first time, something changed in the duke’s eyes.

He was looking directly at me.

Interest.

That was the impression I received.

Duke Ludwig tilted his head slightly, examined the area around me, then fixed his eyes on my right arm.

“You seem to be carrying an interesting item.”

“!”

He was staring precisely at the wrist where the illusion bracelet was hidden.

Chapter 243

The Tiger’s Den

The Huge River was one of the largest waterways running through the Grimwood Mountains.

Beside that river stood a city that looked completely out of place within such a monster-infested wilderness.

Root City.

Years of constant development and expansion had raised Root’s population to nearly ten thousand. Outside the capitals of human kingdoms and empires, that was enough to rival many respectable cities.

As morning broke over the Grimwood Mountains, Root City’s gates opened and more than a thousand residents and warriors streamed outside.

“All right! We’ve almost finished preparing the fields, so starting today we’ll plant spring wheat and vegetables!” Jean shouted while leading the workers. “And be especially careful with Field Three! That’s where we’re planting the peppers the Grand Chief likes!”

Jean was the farming veteran Karath had once recruited for the alliance, and under his direction the residents moved with practiced efficiency.

The orc and goblin women had already spent more than three years farming under him. There was no longer any awkwardness in their movements. The moment Jean gave instructions, each group headed directly toward its assigned fields.

Remarkably, the land surrounding Root City could no longer be called wilderness.

After repeated battles and land-clearing efforts, nearly a kilometer around the city had been completely opened up.

Of course, cutting down the forest did not stop monsters from wandering into the area. Traps had been installed along the outer boundary, while warriors patrolled the perimeter every day.

That was why hundreds of warriors left the gates alongside nearly a thousand farmers each morning.

Their work would eventually fill Root City’s enormous granaries with crops, and those supplies would then travel along maintained roads aboard wagons pulled by Giant Wolves, spreading food throughout every village and city of the alliance.

Root City was no longer merely the capital.

It had become one of the alliance’s lifelines.

“Hup!”

“The harvest is coming!”

The farmers and warriors responsible for that vital task worked with obvious pride.

Farming was hard labor, but only a few years earlier most of them had lived every day uncertain whether they would survive until morning.

Compared to life in that hellish wilderness, or the brutal existence of serfs under cruel masters, working the fields while knowing their families were safe felt almost luxurious.

“Come on, everyone! Just a little more effort!” Jean shouted with a laugh. “When the Grand Chief returns, don’t you want him to see a huge harvest waiting for him?”

More than anything else, gratitude toward the Grand Chief who had made this life possible remained their strongest source of motivation.

Whenever exhaustion began to weigh on them, many of the farmers would glance toward Root City’s walls.

Murals covered those walls.

Leo had designed them in the past, and the residents had painted them together.

They depicted the deeds of the great Grand Chief Karath.

Beyond those murals, inside the city itself, another scene was unfolding.

“Attack!”

“Pull back! It’s a trap!”

Young goblins, orcs, beastfolk, and humans ran around together, engaged in what could only loosely be described as a mock war.

“Oh, how did he fall for that?”

“Krahaha! That little one is going to be something when he grows up.”

Elders from the different races watched with indulgent smiles, occasionally shouting advice.

Elsewhere, warriors who had spent the previous night on patrol slept soundly at home. Women responsible for maintaining the cold-storage facilities, drawing water from the Huge River, making clothes, and countless other jobs went about their daily routines.

And whenever any of them grew tired, their eyes naturally drifted toward the enormous statues standing in the heart of the city.

At the center stood Grand Chief Karath.

Around him were figures representing the people who had helped build the alliance, including Buddy, Berners, and Krog.

The adults looked at those statues and remembered that their peaceful lives existed because of those figures.

The children saw something else.

“I’m going to become just like the Grand Chief!”

Even in the middle of their mock battles, children would glance toward the statues and imagine the people they wanted to become.

Everyone in Root City was busy.

But perhaps no one was busier than the people working in the administrative building.

“How is the expansion force with Brother Kaden doing?”

“They got too close to the central region, so they decided to turn back,” Berners replied.

“I doubt Brother Kaden agreed to retreat that easily.”

“I told him it was an order from the Grand Chief.”

“Krahahaha! Excellent.”

Krog nodded approvingly.

“What about weapons? I heard Chief Parker’s side has gained quite a few new warriors. Can Blacksmith Village equip them quickly enough?”

“From what I’ve heard, they still haven’t finished producing weapons for all the warriors who joined before.”

“Then we’ll probably have to send more women to Blacksmith Village. Contact the Great Mother for me.”

“Understood.”

In many ways, Krog and Berners had inherited the heaviest burden when Karath left.

Doltz had also taken over part of Buddy’s role as a representative of the beastfolk, but he had not been part of the alliance for very long, and the beastfolk population itself remained relatively small. His administrative burden was nowhere near that of Krog or Berners.

That was how organisations worked.

The people who were good at their jobs usually received more work.

Without their loyalty to Karath and their attachment to the alliance, the sheer amount of responsibility might have broken their motivation long ago.

“Haa.”

After using Berners’s communication ability to gather reports from settlements scattered across the Grimwood Mountains and from warriors working along the expanding frontiers, Krog finally leaned back.

“That should handle most of what needed to be done this morning.”

Of course, those were only matters that had accumulated through the previous night.

New reports would continue arriving from villages and expansion groups throughout the day.

Still, sitting there waiting for every message and handling them one at a time was inefficient.

“I’m going outside for a while.”

Krog pushed himself up from his chair.

“You’re going to work on that again?”

Berners knew exactly what he meant and smiled despite the exhaustion on his face.

Krog simply nodded.

Once outside, he stopped for a moment and looked across Root City.

It was almost impossible to compare this place to the Bloodclaw Tribe where he had grown up.

And when he thought about it, his childhood had not even been that long ago.

He had lived with the Bloodclaw Tribe only five years earlier.

Yet in those five years, the world around him had transformed into something this comfortable.

He should have been accustomed to Root City by now, but sometimes the sight still filled him with strange emotions.

I should get going.

Krog shook his head once and resumed walking.

He was heading toward Leo’s workshop.

The reason was an important project the two of them had been working on together.

A sequel to The Life of Karath.

The biography Leo and Jark had created focused largely on the events they themselves had witnessed, which meant it mostly covered Karath’s younger years.

There was very little about what happened after he became Grand Chief and began expanding the alliance in earnest.

Once Krog realised that, he approached Leo and requested a continuation.

Krog would provide the missing stories.

After all, no one in the alliance had spent more time beside Karath than he had.

The Grand Chief probably won’t like it when he finds out.

Krog had known Karath for so long that he understood one thing clearly.

Karath disliked seeing statues, murals, and other objects that encouraged people to worship him.

In Krog’s mind, that reluctance could only come from Karath’s noble belief that alliance resources should be spent improving the lives of the people rather than glorifying him.

But this was more important.

For once, Krog had decided not to follow the Grand Chief’s wishes.

Not because Karath was absent and therefore could not stop him.

The reason was much more serious.

The newcomers have never witnessed the Grand Chief’s greatness.

Many people were joining the alliance while Karath was away.

They needed to understand how the alliance had been created.

They needed to know whose efforts had made it possible for them to live in peace.

Through the continuation of The Life of Karath, Krog intended to make that perfectly clear.

Their peaceful lives had become possible because a great Grand Chief named Karath had existed.

Carrying that enormous sense of responsibility, Krog walked toward the workshop where Leo was already hard at work.

“I wonder if the Grand Chief is all right...”

Karath was alone in the human world, which was essentially enemy territory.

Krog could not help worrying.

Then he smiled faintly.

“He’s the Grand Chief. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

Chapter 244

The Tiger’s Den

Gulp.

The sound of someone swallowing echoed in my ears like thunder.

Did he figure it out?

That thought flashed through my mind immediately, but I rejected it just as quickly.

More precisely, Duke Ludwig had noticed that the bracelet was unusual, but he probably had not realised that I was an orc.

If he had seen through the illusion completely, his reaction would not have been this mild.

“I obtained it from a dungeon in the Grimwood Mountains, Your Grace.”

I kept my expression as calm as possible.

“I see.”

The duke returned to his usual emotionless expression.

Everyone else in the room looked confused, clearly unable to understand what the two of us were talking about.

He already knew.

Amid that tension, I suddenly realised something important.

Just as I had suspected, Duke Ludwig already knew that Vans had been attacked.

I had told him I found the bracelet inside a dungeon in the Grimwood Mountains, a region where humans did not normally live, yet he barely reacted.

Which meant he already knew I was Roven.

The moment I understood that, I discarded every political scheme I had been constructing.

Trick this man, manipulate Vans from the shadows, remove the eldest son, and eventually place Vans in the ducal seat?

That would be an innovative way to commit suicide.

Exactly like the retainers who had arranged the assassination attempts.

Were they bait?

Was this entire situation designed to expose disloyal retainers within the family?

The duke had known everything and still allowed events to unfold. Unless he had genuinely decided to sacrifice Vans in favor of the eldest son, there was only one explanation that made sense.

Once I saw the situation from that angle, another possibility occurred to me.

Perhaps hidden forces had been following Vans all along, prepared to protect him if the situation became truly fatal.

In that case, everything we had done in Partan had been little more than a performance for unseen spectators.

“However.”

Duke Ludwig’s voice cut through my thoughts.

“Do you intend to continue using an unidentified object in my presence?”

His expression remained unreadable.

It was checkmate.

If I removed the bracelet, my identity would be exposed.

For perhaps a tenth of a second, I considered attacking the duke by surprise and attempting to escape.

SLASH.

The moment I imagined manipulating mana, another image naturally followed.

My head leaving my shoulders before I could complete the spell.

Cold sweat trickled down my back.

Barely a second had passed since the duke asked the question, but it felt like an eternity.

Everyone in the room was beginning to turn their attention toward me.

“This item is my final safeguard against threats to my life.”

I made my decision.

The duke raised one eyebrow.

“Oh? You speak as though I might harm you.”

The tone carried a clear implication.

Me? Bother with someone like you?

“You were willing to simply watch while your own son faced danger,” I replied. “I doubt Your Grace would concern yourself greatly with the safety of a mere commoner like me. So I must protect my own life.”

I had gone all in.

Everyone in the audience chamber stared at me in shock.

Outwardly, I remained calm.

Inside, my heart was pounding hard enough that it felt ready to leap from my chest.

If I removed the bracelet, I would probably die the moment my true identity was exposed.

And this did not seem like the kind of man who would respond well if I begged him to let me keep it on.

So whether I lived or died, this was the only move I could see.

“...”

Silence filled the chamber for a brief moment.

Then Duke Ludwig laughed.

“Hahahaha!”

His entire body appeared to laugh.

His eyes did not.

Even while smiling broadly, those eyes remained cold and analytical, as though he were still measuring me.

“You claim I watched my own son face danger. An interesting accusation.”

A faint smile remained on his lips.

“But even if that were true, do you honestly believe that item would allow you to survive if I decided otherwise?”

He leaned back slightly.

“Though I suppose someone capable of killing Viscount Tex alone has earned the right to possess that much confidence.”

“How could I possibly compare Viscount Tex to Your Grace?”

“Trying flattery now?”

“It is not flattery.”

I met his gaze.

“I merely sensed that Your Grace exists on a different level from Viscount Tex.”

“A different level...”

Something subtle passed across Duke Ludwig’s expression.

Then he turned away from me, apparently satisfied.

“Son. It seems you found some interesting companions during this little journey of yours.”

“Yes, Father.”

Vans brightened immediately.

“They were extremely capable companions.”

He began recounting our journey through Partan with all the excitement of a student returning from a school trip and telling his father about adventures with friends.

The eldest son listened with a warm smile, looking genuinely amused by his younger brother’s enthusiasm.

So he can make an expression like that.

Even the duke, while hardly showing it openly, had the faintest upward curve at the corners of his mouth.

The man who had looked like nothing but a monster a moment earlier apparently possessed human emotions after all.

Vans continued telling his story for quite some time.

Eventually, after reaching the end of his account, he suddenly lowered his head.

“Father. I realised several things during this journey, and I have two requests.”

“Two requests?”

Duke Ludwig’s voice returned to its usual blunt calm.

“Speak.”

Vans lifted his head.

“First, I ask that you formally announce Brother as your successor as soon as possible.”

The words dropped into the room like a bomb.