Ascendance of a Bookworm (LN) - Volume 5.10 - Chapter Ep

Epilogue

Under the leadership of their archduke, the knights of Dunkelfelger battled to resolve the Sovereign Order’s infighting at the royal palace and then smite Raublut in the Royal Academy’s auditorium. Sieglinde was providing rear support, a fact she took great pride in; if not for her immaculate leadership behind the scenes, those on the front lines would not have been able to fight so freely. No matter how wounded someone was, they would survive as long as they reached the rear.

The knights were constantly dependent upon the women of Dunkelfelger. It was a weakness in one way but the key to their strength in another.

Rear support wasn’t easy. For their current battle, Sieglinde had prepared recovery rooms in the Dunkelfelger Dormitory, gathered as many magic tools and rejuvenation potions as they could possibly need, requested that provisions be teleported over from the castle, set up a squad of healers, and arranged a rotation of back-line knights to replace anyone who might need to retreat. Now she was overseeing the treatment of the wounded and ensuring their replacements had enough tools and potions.

One by one, ordonnanzes came from those stationed in the dormitory.

“The palace is under our control. We are heading to the auditorium with Lady Magdalena.”

“The statues on the altar shone, causing Lady Rozemyne, Lord Ferdinand, and one of our foes to disappear.”

“The Sovereign knight commander has been beaten!”

“Lord Ferdinand went to the Sovereign temple with Prince Anastasius. Heisshitze is with them.”

“Prince Anastasius has returned. He announced the defeat of our foes and declared the battle to be over. We will now begin the cleanup in shifts.”

It was Sieglinde’s job to listen to these ordonnanzes and convey their information to Dunkelfelger. She let out a sigh of relief when one finally said that the fighting had stopped.

“They told us the battle would not last long...” an attendant said. “And indeed, they secured victory in less than a day. But even so...”

“Indeed,” Sieglinde replied with a nod. “There have been unexpected developments in droves. Even the aub had his work cut out for him.”

Werdekraf, the current Aub Dunkelfelger, had said in advance of the battle that it would only be a short one: Rozemyne had stolen Ahrensbach’s foundation, stopping the nobles on Detlinde’s side from joining the fight, and closed its country gate to keep Lanzenave from sending any more troops. She had also played a role in neutralizing the invaders’ ships, meaning they could not even return home. Raublut, the Sovereign knight commander, had turned coat, but the entire Order would not join him in his treachery.

In short, the enemy had next to no reinforcements. If attacked and overwhelmed in the deep of the night, they would surely be vanquished in one fell swoop.

Or so they had thought. No sooner had the attack on the Adalgisa villa commenced than a portion of the Sovereign Knight’s Order revolted in the palace, prompting the royal family to call upon Dunkelfelger for aid. As the Zent’s sword, they had responded at once.

The aub had assumed that few knights would rebel against the Zent, even with Raublut as their instigator—but again, he had ended up mistaken. Quite a formidable force had gathered at the palace, and to make matters worse, the enemy had somehow managed to obtain the Grutrissheit. Ordonnanzes had reported the strangest developments, such as water sweeping the battlefield and the sudden disappearance of those atop the altar, and the battle had even been brought to the Sovereign temple for some reason.

How truly bizarre this turned out to be.

In spite of the many detailed reports she had received, Sieglinde had only the slightest grasp of what had actually occurred. She had seen countless ditter matches as the first wife of Dunkelfelger and thought she was used to the twists and turns of battle... but the ordonnanzes had given her cause to reconsider.

“The battle is over for the men but not for us,” Sieglinde announced. “The knights will start returning at any moment. Prepare them food and places to rest.”

“Understood.”

She sent ordonnanzes to the common room, where the knights’ attendants were awaiting their charges; to the dining hall, where the food was being kept; and to the knights in the teleportation hall. The returning combatants would rest in shifts, and word of their victory would need to be sent back home.

Werdekraf was last to return from the battlefield; in many regards, the aftermath of a battle was the most complex part, and there were plenty of decisions that would require his input as the aub.

“I am back at last,” he said.

“It is good to see you, Aub Dunkelfelger.”

Before the couple could exchange any more words, Sieglinde raised an eyebrow at Werdekraf. Though he likely hadn’t realized it, his expression was stern, and there was a steely look in his red eyes, like he was ready to spring back into battle at any moment. It seemed wise to distance him from the troops so he could calm down.

“Let us cleanse you before you eat,” Sieglinde said. She beckoned over the attendants, and the aub’s guards changed places with the knights waiting in the dormitory.

The knights back from combat had their attendants clean them, then left for the dining hall. Sieglinde cast a cleansing spell on Werdekraf, but she didn’t take him in the same direction as everyone else; he would need to eat elsewhere.

“How are things here?” Werdekraf asked.

“There were no problems in the dormitory.”

Still instructing her attendants on the side, Sieglinde led the aub to a meeting room. In the wake of a battle—especially one that had involved royalty—it was best for archducal couples to speak in private away from their retainers. Sieglinde started gauging the best time to send them away.

“Hannelore was of great help before dawn,” she continued.

Sieglinde had needed an extra hand with the logistics of their recent battle, so Hannelore had been stationed in the Dunkelfelger Dormitory as her backup. She had endured so many all-nighters for the Purge of Lanzenave, the Battle of Gerlach, and their subsequent victory feasts that her sleep pattern was completely backward. This had ended up being a good thing as it had meant she could take over while Sieglinde rested.

“She has undone her past dishonor and regained the knights’ trust.”

“A most important development.”

By leading her fellow knights into battle in Ahrensbach and coming out victorious, Hannelore had restored some of their faith in her. Something must have happened to build up her confidence because she had seemed entirely self-assured as she gave everyone in the dormitory their orders. Sieglinde believed that to be the most fruitful result of their alliance with Rozemyne.

“And what of the duchy?” Werdekraf asked while eating. “Lestilaut must be bored out of his skull in the foundation’s hall.”

Sieglinde directed their attendants to wait outside the room, then looked at her husband with exasperation. “You would say that after forcing him to stay behind?”

Though the risk of anyone invading Dunkelfelger had seemed nonexistent, Lestilaut had needed to spend the entire night in the foundation’s hall due to having inherited the foundational magic as the next archduke. The aub hadn’t given him much of a choice in the matter:

“Ahrensbach had its foundation stolen in less than two bells after Rozemyne led a paltry force to some unknown location. How could we dare leave ours unprotected?”

His concerns were perfectly valid. Hannelore had taken part in the invasion of Ahrensbach, but not even she knew how Rozemyne had reached and stolen its foundation so quickly. Dunkelfelger could not risk leaving its own foundation unguarded.

“It was the logical thing to do,” Werdekraf said in his defense. “Plans had to be made to avoid the worst-case scenario. And in any case, I am sure it was good training for those young knights who had yet to experience a full night on watch.”

“True enough. Your predecessor said much the same.” Starting with the previous aub, the archducal family had agreed to guard Werdekraf’s office while Lestilaut was holed up in the foundation’s hall. “Klassenberg tried to contact us at second-and-a-half bell; their country gate activated, and the Sovereignty was too busy to properly respond to any questions. Of course, you were not there to use the water mirror, so they resorted to a magic letter instead. Here. It came straight from the castle, and their concern is all too apparent.”

The letter had arrived not long after sunrise. Klassenberg assumed their gate’s activation had something to do with Werdekraf’s earlier call to action and wanted to know whether the situation in the Sovereignty had caused it.

Werdekraf took the letter, read it, and then tossed it aside. “Those reds are as loath to act as always.”

“Those in your office replied that our country gate shone in the dead of the night. They did not mention that it happened several days ago or that Lady Rozemyne emerged with the Grutrissheit in hand, but I would not consider that dishonest. Now, pray tell... what actually happened?”

Sieglinde could guess that Rozemyne had done something with her Grutrissheit but couldn’t even begin to imagine why the young woman would activate Klassenberg’s, Gilessenmeyer’s, and Hauchletzte’s gates in quick succession. Rozemyne had not petitioned the duchies for aid, she had not invaded them, and she had not even opened their gates—she had made them shine and nothing else. Depending on her intentions, some manner of report might need to be sent to every duchy with a country gate.

“Lady Rozemyne was acting upon the instructions of a goddess,” Werdekraf replied.

Sieglinde glared at him. “Though you look serious, I must confirm this is not some out-of-place jest.”

“I am only repeating what Lord Ferdinand told me. Mestionora the Goddess of Wisdom descended and took Lady Rozemyne as her avatar, then instructed that the gates be filled posthaste with the mana of a Zent candidate. Yurgenschmidt would collapse otherwise.”

“And we intend to believe him...?” Sieglinde asked, unconvinced. The tale seemed to be getting taller and taller. What did it even mean for a goddess to descend and take someone as an avatar?

“I was told that Lady Rozemyne now radiates Mestionora’s divine power and that a single glance at her confirms it,” the aub hastily added. “Though I confess, I’ve yet to see it with my own eyes.”

Sieglinde pulled a face in lieu of a response, even more certain they were being tricked and exploited.

“Well, um... In any case... We can discuss the goddess’s advent later. As keen as they must be for answers, Klassenberg will need to wait until things have settled down. Duchies that did not participate in the battle are forbidden from visiting the Royal Academy until further notice, and the royal family has made it clear that any trespassers will be deemed enemies and cut down on sight. As it stands, the duchies are stationed in their dormitories trying to gather information, but we shan’t tell them anything. Instruct everyone to keep what they know close to their chest.”

Those instructions couldn’t have been from the royals; Sieglinde assumed they would want allies in Klassenberg and Gilessenmeyer—and all other powerful duchies, for that matter—to help secure their rule. Instead, they were being kept at arm’s length. She immediately deduced the truth of the matter.

“Is that to say Lord Ferdinand now controls the entire country?” Sieglinde asked. “He must intend to eliminate anyone who tries to get in his way.”

“Indeed. But we subjugated the Sovereign Knight’s Order in the palace, rescued the Zent, and smote Raublut. It feels like Lord Ferdinand stole our glory. Though I admire his resolve to do whatever it takes to win, his methods are violent and exceptionally underhanded. I would not mind training with him, but in a battle to the death, I would not want him as an enemy.”

Sieglinde’s eyes widened at this out-of-character remark. “How rare. You normally boast that a strong foe merely fires you up and practically leap at the first chance to fight them...”

“This man used the battle to gain a political advantage, carefully tweaking his plan as it happened, and then exploited the situation for all it was worth—all while striking his opponents where it hurt most. I would challenge him to a test of strength without a second thought, but a battle of wits? I would not dare put my life and the lives of those I care about on the line when I would end up losing before it even started. Or under any other circumstances, of course.”

Werdekraf sighed and set aside his cutlery. The battle must have been intense to have had such a profound impact on his usual way of thinking. Perhaps it was a worthwhile learning experience for him as well as the young knights.

“I intended to make this game of true ditter a spectacle for the ages,” he said, “but Lord Ferdinand stopped me at every turn. I just want to rest at this point. Can that be arranged? We keep having more and more jobs unloaded on us.”

Sieglinde smiled at her husband’s pleading look. “I tried to stop you. Yet rather than listen to me, you declared you would participate no matter the cost and then went on your little rampage. Maybe we should thank Lord Ferdinand for this valuable lesson; it might serve you well to experience the consequences of war.”

“But I fought all night. I need to rest.”

“Not until you’ve told me what you know.”

Sieglinde wanted information. Much of what the ordonnanzes had said was still indecipherable, and she refused to wait any longer for an explanation.

“I see,” Werdekraf muttered. “Then there is something I should tell you first. Two days from now, we are going to have lunch in Ehrenfest’s tea party room. Members of the royal family will also be in attendance.”

Sieglinde drew a sharp breath, momentarily lost for words. “This is news to me. Is it already set in stone?”

“We do not have long before the Archduke Conference. Only those who participated in the battle will attend, and we will discuss sensitive matters such as the crowning of the next Zent.”

Under normal circumstances, the host and their desired guests would communicate through their attendants and decide on a mutually agreeable date before the former sent any formal invitations. In this case, however, Sieglinde had not been consulted at all. Werdekraf might have spoken with Magdalena after the battle, but the royals had not been able to object.

The royal family had no input, and the venue is Ehrenfest’s tea party room?

“Is there a reason Ehrenfest is hosting the event?” Sieglinde managed to ask. “To my knowledge, they did not contribute to the fighting.”

Aub Ehrenfest had asked Werdekraf to manage communications with other duchies and the Sovereignty because he was too busy resolving an internal dispute. That was how Sieglinde understood it, at least. It made no sense that Ehrenfest was hosting what would probably be the most important gathering to follow the battle. If, as suspected, Rozemyne planned to rise as Aub Ahrensbach and engage with the royal family as the avatar of a goddess, then this was far from an ideal course of action.

“Lord Ferdinand said it made sense because Ehrenfest agreed to give Lady Rozemyne rear support,” Werdekraf noted.

“In other words, they want an excuse to give Ehrenfest a better political foothold.” Sieglinde’s red eyes narrowed. “I was right, wasn’t I? They did not engage in combat.”

Werdekraf waved away the question, not even flinching under his wife’s intense glare. “I do not know how much Ehrenfest did to help Lady Rozemyne, but she is currently resting in its dormitory. Ehrenfest was also first to inform us of the coming invasion—to reveal just how deep this corruption ran—and we could not have seized victory without Lord Ferdinand on our side.”

Sieglinde paused to consider. Ehrenfest really had set the wheels of resistance in motion. And if Rozemyne had chosen to stay in its dormitory over her own, she must not have felt comfortable resting among the nobles of Ahrensbach.

I cannot blame her.

Not even ten days had passed since Rozemyne took Ahrensbach’s foundation, and if what Hannelore had reported was true, she had spent most of that time fighting or bedridden. It seemed unlikely that she had associated with anyone but the knights of her new home, and she was still incapable of saying which nobles she could trust.

Sieglinde pondered the matter, searching for reasons to justify Ehrenfest hosting the tea party. “I was focused on the political implications, since Lady Rozemyne wields a Grutrissheit and took another duchy’s foundation, but indeed, she is still only as young as Hannelore. It would not be strange for her to rely on her family in Ehrenfest. I suspect she has not had time to relocate her chefs, and the food served varies from duchy to duchy.”

“I think you were right at the start,” Werdekraf replied with a shrug. “Lord Ferdinand now stands dominant over Yurgenschmidt.”

“Oh my. And you let him take the lead, did you? A young member of a middle-ranking duchy like Ehrenfest.”

Ferdinand was competent beyond measure, but there was no denying his current status. Though he had been entrusted with administrative work in both Ehrenfest and Ahrensbach, he had always remained in a position of support, never once attending the Archduke Conference as an authority figure. It was hard to believe that Werdekraf, who had ruled a top-ranking duchy for years, would allow him to pull ahead so easily.

“He is no ordinary assistant; he disappeared in the altar’s light with Lady Rozemyne and Gervasio. The latter two were Zent candidates with the Grutrissheit, so we can assume the same of him.”

Sieglinde’s eyes widened. Ferdinand wielding the Grutrissheit would completely reverse the balance of power between them. Many critical errors her duchy had made throughout the fight came to mind, and she was struck with the urge to cradle her head. Dunkelfelger no longer held the dominant position, and their next moves would need to consider the chance that Ferdinand might take the throne.

“How likely is Lord Ferdinand to become the next Zent?” she asked.

“I doubt he even wants to, seeing as he tried to thrust the role upon me.”

Sieglinde recalled the terms given to them immediately before the battle—terms that must have come straight from Ferdinand. “And what are the odds of you becoming the Zent, Werdekraf?”

“I cannot say. It will depend on the worth Lord Ferdinand and Lady Rozemyne assign to Prince Anastasius and Magdalena, who joined the fight against the invaders. To be frank, I think the matter is entirely up to Lord Ferdinand. The future will depend on whether he chooses to give the Grutrissheit to any of the current royals.”

“What about King Trauerqual?” Sieglinde asked. She found it curious that he hadn’t yet been mentioned, considering his stringent efforts to keep the country together without a Grutrissheit.

“Out of the question, unfortunately...” Werdekraf said, his discomfort clear on his face. “From what Heisshitze told me, he abandoned his duties at the most crucial moment and was thereby deemed a failure of a Zent. Magdalena suspects that trug was used on him; a sweet scent clung to him, and though he looked normal at first glance, certain topics seemed to put him in a trance. He greatly resembled the trug-beset knights who could give only incoherent reasons for their actions.”

“Goodness... Is there a chance Lord Ferdinand might reconsider? Every noble in Yurgenschmidt should know how much King Trauerqual has done—how much he has sacrificed—to keep this country alive.” Sieglinde’s lip trembled as she, too, reflected on the man. Raised a fifth prince, he had neither expected nor wanted the throne and only took the role to put an end to the civil war.

Few had wanted the first prince to become the Zent; he had slaughtered both the second prince and his own sickly father, lost the Grutrissheit, and started a catastrophic war. So many nobles had stood against him that the third and fourth princes had ultimately been drawn into the conflict.

In the end, the throne had gone to Trauerqual, who had put his all into maintaining the country even as the Sovereign temple focused on his shortcomings. Peace had come to Yurgenschmidt, but there was much that could not be done without a Grutrissheit.

“I understand,” Werdekraf replied, “but were any of the trug-addled knights or nobles forgiven? Not to mention, Lord Ferdinand had his life turned upside down by a royal decree. Do you think he would forgive King Trauerqual for wielding his authority and then abandoning his duty when it mattered most?”

As much as Sieglinde wanted to object, she simply hung her head. She could remember Ferdinand almost losing his mind during the Interduchy Tournament, having been forced to endure Detlinde’s selfish behavior, and the way both Ahrensbach nobles and Lanzenavians had belittled him during the late aub’s funeral.

I doubt he feels any sympathy toward the man who wreaked that upon him.

As always, Trauerqual must have done what was best for Yurgenschmidt—but would that be enough for Ferdinand to forgive him? The man had accepted a cruel royal decree for the peace of his country only for the Zent to up and surrender the foundation.

“We can assume he acted on false information from Raublut,” Werdekraf continued. “But even then, King Trauerqual must be blamed for not seeing through it.”

“Indeed. Ehrenfest will not be quick to forgive him when they rang the warning bell so far in advance. They will consider it his own fault for not gathering adequate intelligence.”

The more authority a person had, the more important it was that they weed out fake friends and verify the information being fed to them. Such were the measures of a competent ruler.

“Going forward,” Werdekraf said, “what Yurgenschmidt needs is a proper Zent with a Grutrissheit. Can you honestly recommend the man who fell victim to trug and gave up on his people? Even I doubt we can leave him in charge any longer.”

The king had achieved much over the past decade, but those victories were irrelevant in his current situation. How long would the influence of the trug last? Might he abandon his duties a second time? Was it even worth trusting him with anything at all...?

“We are the Zent’s sword,” Werdekraf declared. “If the throne is in danger and calls for aid, we shall sortie without delay. But we will not protect a Zent who refuses to carry out his duties. I suspect we will attend the coming meeting as observers and nothing more.”

Sieglinde cast her eyes down, having understood what her husband was trying to say. He would no longer fight for King Trauerqual.

It was said that Dunkelfelger had sworn to be the Zent’s sword as early as the country’s founding. As the Zent would need to dedicate all of their mana to Yurgenschmidt and Erwaermen, they wouldn’t necessarily be able to protect themselves and defeat their foe in the event of an attack. They would need someone to fight for them, so an age-old agreement had been forged. To be Aub Dunkelfelger was to serve as the Twin Blades of Erwaermen, the symbol for the Zent’s own weapon.

“Then will you strive to take over as the Zent, as we discussed prior to the fighting?” Sieglinde asked. “If all goes to plan, we can still save Yurgenschmidt from calamity.”

Werdekraf would adopt Hildebrand and then serve as an interim Zent until the boy came of age. The throne would return to the former royal family in a single generation, minimizing the opposition from other duchies.

“That plan is no longer viable. Prince Hildebrand committed a criminal act.”

“Come again?!”

“Raublut got Alstede to register the Lanzenavians as Ahrensbach nobles. Then he instigated Prince Hildebrand to open the Farthest Hall in secret and obtain his schtappe, which allowed the Lanzenavians to acquire theirs as well. A grave crime, considering the circumstances.”

Hildebrand was still a child, but he would not escape such a serious transgression unscathed. He was a royal with retainers hired precisely to avoid such situations.

“But why obtain a schtappe at so young an age? If the prince had waited for his third year, as was advised during the Archduke Conference, he would easily have become better suited to rule than any of his brothers—in terms of elements, divine protections, and mana capacity...”

“The mistake was in sending him to a villa after his baptism, no matter how much the royal shortage required it.”

Under normal circumstances, royals were isolated and raised in the northern building of the royal palace, like how archduke candidates were raised in the northern buildings of their respective castles. However, because of the drought of manpower and mana that had plagued Yurgenschmidt since the civil war and purge, the palace had needed to abandon that tradition. Hildebrand and Anastasius had abruptly been entrusted with villas immediately after their baptisms.

Living in the northern building meant eating alongside one’s parents and socializing over tea. Upon becoming the lord or lady of a villa, however, one started eating alone, and even tea parties with one’s parents would need to be scheduled days in advance. Hildebrand and Anastasius had gone without the guidance children of their age would normally receive.

“So, what will you do if you end up becoming the Zent?” Sieglinde asked.

“If either Prince Sigiswald or Prince Anastasius has children, I would want them to step up to the task. But beyond that, who knows?”

Sieglinde mulled over how dramatically the situation had changed since before the battle, and it was then that she realized something: Anastasius had come up time and time again during the reports she’d received, but not Sigiswald.

“Could there have been a reason that Prince Sigiswald, heir apparent to the throne, was left out of the battle?” she asked. “This is the first you have said about him.”

“According to Heisshitze’s report, Lord Ferdinand thought Prince Anastasius was easier to spur to action, as the second prince had an easily exploitable weakness. Now that you mention it, however... there does seem to be something more going on.”

Werdekraf thought for a moment, then shook his head. “In any case, I can’t imagine the first prince being of any use on the battlefield. I saw no reason to bother calling for him.”

“Indeed. We could not guess how far his knight training has advanced.”

“Not only that—he has his pride as the heir apparent. I doubt he would have given clear orders in the auditorium or on the way to the Sovereign temple, nor do I think he would have listened to Lord Ferdinand and me.”

Those who couldn’t follow orders were actively harmful on the battlefield; a single unexpected move could snowball into defeat. An authority figure determined to stay on top when they didn’t have the strength to justify it would only have gotten in the way.

“The threat has been contained, but the battle is not entirely over,” Werdekraf concluded. “That isn’t for us to worry about, though; I’m sure Lord Ferdinand will dominate our meeting with the royals. Our brainstorming here won’t amount to anything.”

The aub sounded noticeably less energetic than before; the meal and other factors must have been lulling him to sleep. Sieglinde gave him a few light taps on the back of his hand, signaling him to stand. She thought it best to end their conversation so he could go to bed.

“You should rest. I shall oversee the preparations for our upcoming lunch meeting.”

“My thanks.”

Werdekraf rose to his feet but did not leave. He stared at his wife for a moment... then gently stroked the corner of her eye with his thumb. It was his way of telling her she was working too hard and not getting enough sleep.

Sieglinde looked away. “Is it really that obvious?”

“Not enough that your retainers would notice, but still—you could do with some rest as well.” He started to laugh, no longer a soldier at war but a calm, considerate husband.

Sieglinde laughed with him. “Your victory today was superb. Leave everything to me and rest as you please. May Schlaftraum bless you with a deep and peaceful slumber.”