The double life of a count's bastard - Chapter 5
Episode 5
The year 977 on the Krasler calendar.
Countless dynasties had ruled the continent and created empires, but none had ever lasted a thousand years.
However, the Krasler Empire was on the verge of achieving what no other dynasty had ever accomplished: a millennial empire.
They say.
If the Krasler Empire were to complete the Millennium Empire, the greatest contribution to it could be attributed to only one family.
The Sword of the Continent, the Shield of the Emperor.
The Slater family is the greatest of all families.
The Slaters have done only one thing for the Krasler Empire.
They have steadfastly defended the northern part of the empire, the Inkeran Mountains.
Bisecting the continent, man’s greatest enemy, the Orcs, has toppled countless kingdoms and empires over the ages.
No one knows how many, or how vast the land beyond the Inceran Mountains is, but one thing is certain: if the Orcs cross the Inceran Mountains, the entire continent will be covered in blood.
The existence of kingdoms and empires would depend on stopping the Orcs, or not.
Year 800.
That’s how long the Slaters have kept the Orcs from crossing the Inkeran Mountains.
For the past 800 years, the Slater family has brought peace to the north, allowing the Krasler Empire to flourish and grow into one of the most powerful nations on Earth.
The Slaters are the noble family most trusted by the Emperor and revered by all humans on the continent.
Whiz-!
The blade sliced through the air with the power to slice through the moonlight, but the wobbling and unnatural trajectory of the blade’s tip was not enough for a third-ranked knight to be called a true knight.
“Whoosh! Whoosh!”
Rousseau, who had been swinging his sword nonstop just a moment ago, lay sprawled on the ground with his arms hanging limply.
“……That’s a mess.”
Taking stock of his skills, Rousseau couldn’t even muster a bitter smile at the state of his body, which was atrocious, to say the least.
Of course, it’s even funnier if he’s gotten better since he’s spent the last seven years living a life of such a mess that he’s been criticized by others for not practicing properly.
From the tender age of 10, alcohol and other indulgences had wreaked havoc on his developing body.
‘So you’re a Slater!
“Hahaha, if talent alone is all that matters, you’re better than Aaron!
“With your talent and hard work, I can’t wait to see what your future holds!
“We’re going to have a third generation of swordsmen in the Slater family, hahaha!
When Rousseau was seven years old, everyone in the family praised his sword skills.
His talent, coupled with his hard work, made Rousseau’s childhood incomparably superior.
Rousseau grew from strength to strength, and at the age of nine, he tied with a third-ranked knight in a formal duel.
His rise to prominence was anticipated by the entire continent, with only the mighty swordsmen of the previous generation to compare him to.
Rousseau himself had the title of the continent’s youngest fourth- and fifth-ranked knight as his closest goal.
But no one knew.
A birthday party to celebrate his 10th birthday would change his life forever.
“……by now, we’re camping at the beginning of the Inkeran Mountains.”
Calming his breathing, Rousseau lay back and turned his head to stare off in one direction.
If he was to be believed, the expedition would be entering its final rest with the Inceran Mountains ahead.
The schedule called for a day of rest at the base of the mountain range, and then the expedition would begin in earnest at daybreak.
Previous expeditions have taken as little as 20 days, or as long as a month, but this one is different.
On the 56th day, to be exact, the expedition will return.
After 20 years, the expedition fails, with many men lost and many more wounded.
It’s a future that no one can guess, but Rousseau knows.
He even knows the cause of the expedition’s failure, but unfortunately, there’s nothing he can do about it now.
The only way…….
“Would it have made a difference if we had abandoned the expedition altogether?”
Rousseau knows this is a wish in vain.
The expedition to the Inkeran Mountains is Count Slater’s most important event of the year, and the Emperor’s most important order, so it cannot be abandoned.
Even if it wasn’t the Emperor’s order, the expedition was necessary to prevent the Orcs, who control many monsters, from crossing the Inkeran Mountains.
The expedition failed, and within twenty years, the defenses had collapsed and the various provinces bordering the Incuran Mountains were under attack by the Orcs.
Of course, it won’t be a serious problem for the first four or five years, but then the damage will spiral out of control, and all the blame and resentment will fall on the Earl of Slater.
“The next three years…….”
Rousseau muttered softly, gripping the hilt of his sword as tightly as he could.
Not a lot of time.
Three years from now, Rousseau must make sure he is at least minimally prepared for what is to come.
To do that.
“I have to build my body.”
After a botched growth spurt that would have been more than enough if he’d taken care of himself and worked harder, Rousseau had to find a way to rebuild his body.
“Kwelan Mine. I have to go from there.”
Luckily, Rousseau knew exactly how to get there.
The events of the next decade were crammed into his head.
The miserable, hopeless dream he had had during his ten days of fever was his only hope.
* * *
The Slater estate is located in the far north of the Krasler empire.
It has always been, and still is, the largest land mass in the entire empire, fitting within five fingers.
However, no lord looks upon the vastness of the Slater estate greedily.
When the first Earl of Slater (then a Viscount) was granted the estate by the Emperor, it was a problem.
Its location in the north of the continent meant that the temperature never exceeded 10 degrees year-round, and the shape of the estate was such that it simply stretched out from side to side, making the distance between east and west a futile one.
That’s not all.
Crop yields were woefully inadequate, with only a tiny fraction of the land being fertile, and the province’s location at the very edge of the empire meant that it was of little commercial benefit.
Add to that the vaguely marked borders of the Inkeran Mountains to the north, and the province was regularly invaded by orcs and monsters.
As it was, none of the Imperial nobility coveted the Slater estate, and they were relieved to be able to keep the orcs at bay with their lives.
In such a harsh environment, the Slaters would never have been able to defend their lands for the first two hundred years or so without the full support of the Emperor and the voluntary support of the nobility.
“The situation changed when the Inkeran Mountains were stabilized and the rich ore deposits were exploited in earnest.”
Rousseau chewed viciously on a piece of dried jerky and stared at the trunk of the Incuran Mountains in front of him.
The Slater estate’s fortunes had been turned upside down when they began to exploit one or two of the veins in the Incuran Mountains that no one else had dared to try.
There were few gold or gem mines, the easiest money-makers, but the discovery of one high-purity iron ore after another made Slater the Empire’s premier iron mining region.
With the Slaters constantly at war with the Orcs, iron ore was a godsend, a more valuable resource than gold or gemstones.
With the occasional discovery of mana iron, which is worth twice as much as regular iron, the Slater estate quickly became extremely wealthy.
With this wealth, the soldiers and knights of the Slater estate were able to acquire some of the best armaments in the Empire, allowing them to control large swaths of the Inkeran Mountains.
The untouched Inkeran Mountains were a treasure trove of resources in their own right, and as they came under the control of the Counts of Slater, commerce naturally flourished.
It started with iron ore, but a series of fortunes quickly made the Earl of Slater one of the richest men in the Empire.
“It would be a shame to cut off the support.”
The Emperor’s support, and the support of many nobles, is suddenly gone.
The only saving grace is that the Emperor silenced the voices of the nobility, who insisted on taxing the wealthy Earl of Slater to keep him in check.
“If you’re going to tax me, you’re a robber.”
Rousseau’s antipathy toward the emperor and the aristocracy was enormous, and he would have gotten away with it if he hadn’t had the dream.
If he were in the capital, the sight of their faces would make him so angry that he wondered what he would do.
“We’ll see.”
Chewing hard on his jerky, their faces still etched in his memory, Rousseau pulled out his map and double-checked the location.
“Should we be there in about half a day?”
Rousseau’s destination is the Kwelan Mine, which he discovered roughly 200 years ago.
It was in the Kwelan Mines that a small amount of mana iron was found, a type of mana iron that doesn’t break easily doesn’t deform much, and has a high mana conductivity.
It is now an abandoned mine and no one visits it, but its true value will only be discovered in the next seven years.
‘Poohahaha, you stupid Slaters! You had treasure right under your nose and you didn’t even recognize it, and now you’re in this mess!’
“Count Lanslan…….”
Puddle!
Rousseau gritted his teeth as he recalled the face of Count Lanslan, who had mocked him with a stream of dog grease.
It had been a dream, but he could never forget the way the Earl of Lanslan had laughed at them, a man who hadn’t even been treated with the grime of his claws just thirty years ago.
And the fact that he dared to claim it as his own, even though it had been acquired from the Slater estate, was enough to make him feel his blood rush to his stomach.
“You guys are just waiting. I’m going to beat the shit out of you.”
As if that wasn’t enough.
Just as Count Lanslan had done in his dreams, in reality, he planned to take everything he could from him.
To do so, she must first finish the job at Kwelan Mines once and for all.
Tucking the map roughly into his pocket, Rousseau moved faster and faster toward the Kwelan Mines.
* * *
“You don’t know where he went?”
His tone was calm and gentle, but Jason could feel a cold sweat running down his back.
“Dr. Russo gave me some sleeping pills…….”
He tried to make excuses, but even he knew how pathetic he sounded, so he kept his mouth shut.
And beside him, the driver in charge, William, whose face had turned the same earthy color, stood like a sinner.
“Haaaaa.”
Countess Slater sighed deeply at the sight of Jason and William bowing their heads like sinners before her.
“What could be wrong with them?
‘It’s Russo’s fault for being straight and giving Jason and William sleeping pills, so what could they possibly be guilty of?
‘Rousseau, just this once, please…….’
The Countess was already beginning to worry that Rousseau might have an accident.
The expedition had been plagued with problems from the start, leaving Countess Slater more nervous than ever.
As much as she wanted Rousseau to behave himself, the countess was worried that he might get into trouble again.
“Let them search the estate,” she said, “and send men to the neighboring estates, just in case.”
If you cause an accident within your territory, you can keep it as quiet as possible, but if you cause an accident in another territory, you’re in trouble.
Knowing the Countess’s mind, they realize that they are responsible.
“I understand!”
“Don’t worry, we will find Master Russo!!!”
Jason and William shouted back, but Countess Slater knew all too well from too many experiences that Russo, who had run away from home, was not easily caught.
She merely said.
“Rousseau, please don’t disappoint us anymore.
Not as a mother, but as Countess Slater, she desperately hoped that Rousseau would return in good behavior.