A long time ago, during my first tour of the Empire, I’d gone all out in a magical battle against this man and asked him to be my ally afterward. Today, finally, he was making good on that agreement.
“We welcome you, Reiz Krommler!” I declared. “Valor cares not for social standing!”
Moreover, he was the only other living person I knew for sure was also a transmigrator. The fact that I’d been able to get a message to him through Ein’s Storytellers meant that he was surely under their surveillance. Regardless, though, I was confident I could count on him to be reasonable. I had a lot I wanted to ask him about his past life, but first, I needed to welcome him as my new vassal.
“Lady Darrieux, Sir Krommler, we shall not forget your contributions. But for now, rest. You have done well.”
Charlotte de Darrieux spoke for both of them. “Your Majesty is too gracious. On behalf of my retainer and me, I swear unto you an oath of our allegiance. Your Majesty’s cause shall be our own, and our services shall ever be at your disposal.”
“We acknowledge your oath, Lady Darrieux, and accept it wholeheartedly.”
Now, then. That was the reliable ally dealt with. Next was the man who was only a step removed from an enemy.
“Anselm le Van-Dozran.” I looked down upon the man. Not only did he not seem the slightest bit apologetic, there was a smug defiance to his bearing that hadn’t faltered since he’d walked into the tent. My smile dropped, and my expression became flat. “By our count, you have committed three crimes against us.”
I more or less understood his motives. He’d wanted to use the Battle of Chelán Hill to see which side of the fence he committed to. Which wasn’t to say he’d started out neutral; I was fairly certain he’d been leaning toward Raul from the beginning.
“You repeatedly failed to answer our summons to the imperial capital,” I began.
If he had been truly neutral, then he should’ve picked a side the moment a significant advantage became apparent. In other words, when our flock cannons had thrown the bulk of Raul’s forces into disarray. Even an amateur could have spotted that that was when the tide had turned.
“You mobilized a force of your own accord, sowing confusion within the Empire.”
Yet despite that, he had failed to commit. Only when he’d seen the Nunmeidt cavalry riding toward his forces had he finally relented.
“And on top of failing to apologize for your lateness to this battle, you did not commit your forces until our victory was certain.”
In other words, the slimebag had only sided with us once it became clear that he literally had no other option.
“If you have an excuse, we would wish to hear it.”
“It seems there has been a misunderstanding, Your Majesty,” Anselm le Van-Dozran drawled. He stood up, despite me not yet giving him permission, and even had the nerve to wear a smile. “Firstly, I am not the Marquess Dozran, and as such, I was uncertain whether it would be appropriate for me to answer the summons.”
“The right of inheritance lies with you,” I pointed out. “Barring exceptional circumstances, you will be the next Marquess Dozran.”
“But, Your Majesty—it has always been custom that His Majesty the Emperor would formally acknowledge the new marquess.”
So he was claiming that he hadn’t wanted to step on my toes by assuming the title? Yeah, right. If I had possessed such absolute power that I could strip the nobility of their titles willy-nilly, I wouldn’t be having so much trouble in the first place.
As a general rule, the inheritance of lands and titles was ironclad law. The only time an emperor could seize a vassal’s titles was when they had committed a major crime—open treason, in other words, against him or the imperial family. That was how I’d been able to justify doing it to the Chancellor and Minister of Ceremony.
In contrast, I could give and take governmental positions, such as the Minister of Foreign Affairs or the Minister of Domestic Affairs, with complete freedom.
“Then why did you not simply come to the imperial capital and request acknowledgment of your succession?” I asked.
“Ah, well, I was occupied at the time, maintaining a period of repentance at a church,” he explained. “While it may have been in self-defense, the sin of killing family is not an easy one to bear.”
Unfortunately, I knew from a prior investigation that he was speaking the truth. Partly, anyway. He’d definitely done a stint at a church, but I suspected there wasn’t a penitent bone in his body.
“And regarding the mobilization of a private force?” I asked. “What is your excuse for that?”
“I had to use my wits, you see.” The grease practically dripped from his words. “Since I am not the Marquess Dozran, I could not very well mobilize my house’s forces, so I personally contracted a number of mercenaries.”
This, too, was the truth. All of the soldiers he’d brought to the field were sellswords, rather than the formal Dozran army. However, that was actually a bigger problem.
“Apraada, Benima, Rocourt,” I listed off. “Five thousand mercenaries from foreign nations.”
“Oh? Is that truly the case? Why, I had no idea.”
No doubt this was where the bastard’s confidence was coming from—he was implicitly threatening me with his connections to the Empire’s three southern neighbors. In other words, he was a dyed-in-the-wool turncoat. I’d taken the Chancellor and Minister of Ceremony out of the picture, but it was only inevitable that birds of a feather would rise to take their place.
“Indeed? We had taken you for a more scrupulous man,” I said, not bothering to veil the sarcasm. “So? What of the matter of the battle? Why wait until so late to act?”
Anselm le Van-Dozran let out a boisterous laugh. “Strategy, Your Majesty—it was all part of my strategy!”
✦ ✦ ✦
I scoffed. “What strategy? We saw very little to speak of.”
“But then, Your Majesty must be laboring under a misunderstanding. It was the presence of my force that prevented the enemy’s central bloc from moving.”
He was talking about the enemy’s militia, who’d pulled back from their assault once the area became mana-burnt. Evidently, he wanted to claim his presence was the reason they hadn’t resumed their offensive.
“It appears a misunderstanding is right,” I said. “For we do not consider that to be the result of any effort on your part.”
Naturally, he was completely talking out of his ass. The thing was, though, that he could spew weak excuses until the metaphorical cows came home and I couldn’t do anything about it. With the Empire still divided, we did not have the resources to dedicate to an open war against our three southern neighbors. Moreover, antagonizing this man risked the Duchy of Warren becoming besieged.
Above all, I didn’t even have enough force at hand to be a match for the five thousand foreign professional soldiers he had waiting a stone’s throw away. It was frustrating, but my only option was to let the rat bastard get off scot-free.
“Nevertheless, we shall recognize your succession to the title of Marquess Dozran,” I finished. “In that light, and to reward the meager contribution you have provided to our cause, we shall formally demand that Apraada return the former Dozran lands it has seized.”
“Ah, but how fortunate I am! A thousand blessings for your graciousness, Your Majesty.”
As he bowed, he didn’t bother to hide the naked ambition in his eyes.
There would only come more times when I would have to spare those who sought my head. I was the emperor, the crab at the top of the bucket, and that meant I needed to crush anyone who sought to undermine me from below.
What a pain in the ass.