Chapter 6: The King of the Nobles(3)

The most dilapidated part of the prison is the basement.
There, disaster-level prisoners like the Saintess and the Witch lurk.

In contrast, the first floor, with better facilities, holds relatively tame inmates.
But “tame” is relative—their actions could still cause massive ripples.

“Elder, I’m coming in.”

I spoke politely and entered the first-floor cell.
Inside, the blond man sat in a chair.

A chessboard lay before him, but the pieces were missing.
He stared silently at the empty battlefield.

“You. What’s this about?”

The political titan didn’t even glance at me.
He was utterly relaxed, despite sending his hounds after me today.

But confronting him here would be foolish.
I sat across from him, gazing at the chessboard.

“Who’s winning?”
“The white knight just called check. It’s practically over.”

This crazy noble was playing a game in his head with invisible pieces.
And the black side, in check, must represent me.

“Then I’d better make a move.”
“No way out. You sure?”

His purple eyes looked at me with pity.
My silver tongue was fine, but I’d overstepped, and now he urged me to grovel.

“If the opponent falls to a critical hit, it’s no fun.”

I flipped the Elder’s chessboard upside down.
And wiped the formal smile from my face.

“You’ll need to come with me for a bit.”
“Fine.”

Dark Opertt followed without asking why.
He maintained a lofty expression all the way to the office.

But when we entered, his face turned grim.
The office, which should’ve been torn apart by his allies, was eerily peaceful.

A beautiful melody played from a phonograph, rare in these parts.
The well-kept office featured the IRS chief sipping whiskey.

He jolted at the familiar killing intent behind him.
Like a Doberman caught stealing a snack.

“Oh, Elder! I was just… tasting the supplies to check for issues.”

The prickly chief bowed his head.
I stepped in, gently chiding him.

“I was entertaining with the supplied whiskey. Military law allows one bottle per month for social gatherings.”

A sleazy snake’s smile.
The old lion’s expression grew grimmer.

“No issues with the supplies or expenses?”
“None. Impeccably clean, especially the liquor you told us to scrutinize.”

To account for even the corruption of past drunken wardens.
The Elder, incredulous at a twenty-one-year-old’s thoroughness, spoke sharply.

“You filled empty bottles with new liquor. Obvious move.”

Dark sniffed a bottle on the desk.
But…

“What the…”

His thick brows furrowed fiercely.
The kid before him had mixed liquors to perfectly mimic military-grade taste and scent.

For eighty bottles, no less.

“You’re insane. Did you do this alone?”
“Couldn’t trust my men. One might be loyal to you.”

No witnesses or evidence of swapping liquor.
I gestured to the desk for the stunned Elder.

“If you’re not satisfied, check the ledgers.”
“No need. That one’s been forging them for years.”

Clea, fox-like, averted her gaze.
The Elder had long noticed her competence.

“So I had them raid you, but you’re more meticulous than I thought.”
“If you want to praise me, go ahead. I’d love to brag.”

Dark shook his head firmly.
As if my quick thinking wasn’t enough.

“No can do. This shows your weak standing.”

He pointed to the pile of bottles.
Fake liquors I made alone, unable to trust my men.

“How can I trust someone who mixes liquor alone because their men don’t trust them?”

The Elder likely knew.
The recently killed head guard was a Holy See spy.

With a traitor exposed, he’s testing my leadership.

“When a subordinate picks someone higher than you, like recently, how will you handle it?”

The office fell silent at Dark’s pointed question.
All eyes were on me.

“My final question. Answer well, and I’ll acknowledge you.”
“…”

I’m just a new warden in the sticks.
The Holy See is the empire’s largest religious force.

It’s natural for struggling guards to be swayed by them.
But…

“There’s an easy way.”

I know how to handle opportunists.
And how to punish a prisoner threatening the warden.

“Make them loyal to someone ‘higher’ than the Holy See.”

Deep wrinkles formed on Dark’s brow.
Like when he clashed with the chancellor in the Elder Council.

“Starting today, Berryhill’s guards will serve as your escorts.”

I picked up the whiskey glass.
The ice clinked merrily.

“They’ll love it. Serving someone far above the Holy See. Opportunists will thank me.”

Unlike tea, I savored the golden liquor like a vile rogue.

“They’ll see me as your ally, naturally raising my status.”

The IRS chief behind glanced at Dark.
A chilling shadow crossed the Elder’s face.

“Who said I’d take your pathetic men as my own?”
“No permission needed. I’ll keep them by your side regardless.”

I grinned broadly at his question.
Unfazed, like a chessboard’s equal king.

“Then, I’ll buy supplies in the capital. Grandly, so all nobles know.”

Clea’s lips parted, catching my intent.
She knew how vital rumors and image are to politicians.

“The exiled Elder was raising a private army. Your allies will love it, thinking you had deeper plans.”

I set down the empty whiskey glass.
And refilled it.

“Enemies planning to betray you won’t move. They’ll hide and wait.”

My face reflected in the golden liquid.
The same expression as my chancellor days, tormented by rivals.

“With their daggers forever concealed.”

Dark reached for his red tea.
About to sip, he realized it had gone cold.

“You’ve got multiple lives? You fear nothing in front of me.”

He tilted the cup, letting the tea spill onto the saucer, as if discarding the worthless.

“I’d just retire from warden if I fail. I’ve no reputation to lose.”

I slid the fresh whiskey toward him with a vile smile.

“Nothing changes if I act tough before falling. But you, Elder, have much to lose.”

He glared at my snake-like eyes, as if wanting to crush a worthless serpent.

“…Resorting to threats because you can’t solve it yourself?”
“You threatened first.”

I glanced at the IRS chief, who raided us in a day.
He coughed and looked away.

“Let’s end the power play here, Elder.”

I stopped pandering to him.
With a gaze matching his old rival, I warned.

“You should pick up that glass. While our relationship is still good.”

A mere backwater warden checkmated the king of nobles.
In the capital, he’d rule. Here, I’m the prisoners’ king.

“…”

Dark stared silently at the golden liquor.

He avoided drinking to hide weaknesses.
Only sharing a glass with trusted blood allies.

Accepting this drink would make me his blood ally.

“I see.”

After a pause, he cleanly admitted he struck first.
Refusing would make his raiding allies look bad.

His greatness came from valuing his men and acknowledging opponents.

“If I take this, will your vile threats vanish?”
“Of course. As I said, I just want to be friends.”

I raised my whiskey for a toast.

“While you’re here, keep a junior like you by your side.”
“You say creepy things so casually.”

Dark lightly lifted his glass.
The IRS chief behind asked with concern.

“Elder, you’re drinking? You swore it off for health…”
“Chief.”

Dark gave his ally a meaningful look.

“Who was the last person I drank with?”
“Knight Commander Roben.”

“Right. You came to me when caught for tax evasion.”
“Indeed. Though I gave fair warning.”

The Elder only drank with equals.

“My friend here had no kin to guard his back, no informants to warn of raids.”

He gazed at me.

“Yet he defended perfectly and dared threaten this old man. While the empire’s greatest sword groveled.”

A faint smile curved his lips in the glass’s reflection.
As if recalling his defiant youth.

“Allies are made with such troublesome types.”

His gaze, once seeing me as a greenhorn, changed.
Like he’d found a prospect worth nurturing.

Clink!*

Our glasses clashed firmly.
He showed sincerity; now it’s my turn to respond.

“I’ll also share my plan to regain my men’s trust.”
“Speak.”

“There’s a major swordsmanship tournament hosted by the Northern Duke soon.”
“I know. That kid invited me to watch. Big prize money, I hear.”

Calling the Northern Duke a kid, Dark had little interest.
But my next declaration made him pause.

“I’ll represent the prison and take down the Holy See’s knights. All three of their Paladins.”

The Paladin Order.
One of the continent’s strongest knight orders, alongside the imperial knights.

The three Paladins are renowned as promising holy warriors.

“My guards won’t even glance at the Holy See.”

A mere scoundrel warden vowed to crush them.
The Elder’s heavy lips finally curled upward.

“Your sharp tongue won’t work in combat.”
“If I lose, only I die. You lose nothing.”

Dark quietly studied my confident green eyes.
At first, he’d have dismissed it as bravado, but not now.

“Fine. What do you need from me?”

Knowing it’s tough, he awaited my request with anticipation.
I replied with something unexpected.

“When I win, let me meet Her Highness, the Princess.”

The empire’s third-highest figure after the emperor and crown prince.
And a meeting with the current Archmage, head of the Magic Tower.

Her survival would prevent the Elder’s rage.

“…”

The Elder, who doted on his niece like a daughter in place of the frail empress, darkened at my request.

“What did you say?”
“I want to meet the Princess. I have something to tell her.”

As I thought of ways to prevent her assassination, a chill ran through me.
I looked at Dark again.

“Was all your diligence for my niece?”
“…?”

The noble king’s brow furrowed, his fists ready to crush a vile snake.

“Your earnestness was for an upward marriage.”
“…?”

Clea stared at me blankly.
The Princess was renowned for her beauty, while my damned brothers were notorious rogues.

The synergy perfectly trapped me.
It took a full hour to clear up that damned misunderstanding.