CHAPTER 136: It's not a difficult request (4)

Marquis Branford narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Ghislain as though trying to discern the truth behind his words.

Ghislain, for his part, met the marquis's gaze head-on, standing tall and unyielding.

'Don't waste resources on some unworthy fool. Just give me everything you've prepared.'

After learning of Duke Delphine's increasing influence in the north, the royalist faction had been scrambling to expand their presence in the region. After much deliberation, they had selected Bribant as their stronghold.

'It's a good choice overall, but the problem is, it's already playing into Duke Delphine's hands.'

In his previous life, both the royal family and the royalist faction poured immense resources into Bribant. They even transferred part of the royal territory's population to bolster it.

But Duke Delphine had long anticipated such a move. He had systematically weakened the Scarlet Flame Magic Tower, a key defensive asset of Bribant, to curtail the royalist faction's power in the region.

'The magic tower is barely holding on thanks to the rune stones I provided, but… one magic tower isn't enough to salvage an entire territory.'

By now, most of Bribant's vassals and aides had been co-opted by Duke Delphine. Supporting Bribant any further was like pouring water into a broken pot.

But what if the royalists chose to back Ghislain instead?

Duke Delphine's years of effort and resources would be rendered meaningless. Everything he had built would crumble.

'Stop thinking long-term. Give me everything you've prepared right now. Fighting? That's my specialty.'

As the self-assured Ghislain stood before him, Marquis Branford pondered deeply.

Count Bribant was a kind but indolent and timid man. In the marquis's view, he was little more than a parasite living off the taxes and expertise provided by the magic tower.

'But this one…'

Initially, Branford thought Ghislain merely wanted a guardian to gain some convenience. But it was clear now that his ambitions extended far beyond that. He had approached Branford with full awareness of his position as the head of the royalist faction.

Despite some potential backlash, switching their support to Ghislain at this stage wouldn't be too difficult. With the faction leader serving as his guardian, the change would be justifiable.

The royalists hadn't chosen Bribant because they particularly favored it; it was simply the least bad option among the other disastrous northern territories.

'So that's why he was willing to risk everything.'

The more Branford considered it, the more impressed he was. Compared to the lackluster Count Bribant, this young man was far more promising. If they were going to back someone, better it be someone like Ghislain.

However, even though he was warming to the idea, he couldn't make such a significant decision for the entire faction alone. There were risks he couldn't ignore.

'If this boy turns out to be a pawn of Duke Delphine, it would be disastrous.'

If Ghislain, groomed with the royalists' full support, were a spy, it would only serve to strengthen Duke Delphine's position.

"I understand your proposal, but the risks are too great to trust you with our full backing," Branford said finally.

Ghislain responded bluntly. "And is Count Bribant any more trustworthy?"

"We've conducted thorough investigations into him."

"And you know just as much about me."

"…I do know your reputation differs significantly from the reality I see now."

Indeed, the biggest reason Branford found it difficult to trust Ghislain was the mystery of why he had hidden his true self for so long.

'Should I just tell him I'm from the future?' Ghislain thought in exasperation but quickly quelled the impulse.

Instead, he spoke calmly. "If you can't trust me, perhaps you can trust my father. I am the heir and vassal of Count Perdium."

"Hmm."

Branford stroked his chin, lost in thought. Count Perdium was indeed a trustworthy man—steadfast in his loyalty to the royal family and a long-time guardian of the border.

Some royalist nobles had even suggested developing him instead of the unreliable Count Bribant. However, Perdium's poverty-stricken territory had ultimately removed him from consideration.

'Unbelievable. One boy has me questioning the entire faction's strategy.'

Branford let out a mirthless chuckle. The absurdity wasn't just that he was contemplating a radical shift, but that he was intrigued by Ghislain's bold proposition.

Ghislain spoke again, breaking the silence. "I'm sure you've been briefed on the recent war between Perdium and Digald."

"Why bring that up now?" Branford asked.

"You seem uneasy. That war… someone was clearly goading Digald from behind. I can't provide proof, but I suspect Count Desmond supplied them with troops."

Ghislain actually had evidence—a captured knight of Desmond's—but revealing it now would be premature. He had plans for that piece later.

Nevertheless, his conjecture was enough to plant doubt in Branford's mind.

"…Are you suggesting…?"

"Count Desmond is a suspicious figure. It's possible we share the same enemy."

It wouldn't be long before word spread that Ghislain had allied with the royalists. There was no need to hide his antagonism toward Duke Delphine.

Branford gestured to his butler. "Bring me the reports on the war in Perdium."

The butler quickly returned with the documents, which Branford reviewed meticulously. The war seemed typical of the minor territorial disputes common in the north. Except for one detail.

'The size of Digald's forces was larger than anticipated.'

The official explanation was excessive conscription and heavy reliance on mercenaries. However, the report's author had noted unusual movements in Desmond's territory.

If Desmond had indeed supported Digald, the pieces would fit perfectly. The royalist faction already suspected Desmond of aligning with Duke Delphine.

Branford closed his eyes, deep in thought, as the room fell into tense silence.

One of Ghislain's vassals, Claude, bit his lip anxiously. 

'The population issue was the hardest problem for us to solve. If Marquis Branford helps, we could achieve in years what would normally take decades. This is a golden opportunity.'

Even after relocating mountain villagers, Fenris still lacked workers. Despite their growing wealth, the population problem remained insurmountable.

'Most of the peasants are serfs. Without permission, they can't leave their current lands, no matter how enticing Fenris might seem.'

Even recovering runaway serfs from Fenris had been a struggle, with neighboring lords refusing to release them under various pretexts.

Claude glanced at Ghislain with a mix of admiration and bewilderment. 

'How does someone who's never left his territory get information like this?'

After a long pause, Branford opened his eyes and asked, "Do you have any other requests?"

"Yes," Ghislain replied. "Perdium has recently emerged from war. Even with our growing income, stabilizing the territory will take time."

"And?"

"I request a three-year exemption from taxes for Perdium and its vassals."

"…"

The vassals exchanged uneasy murmurs, their expressions darkening. Asking for a tax exemption while amassing wealth seemed audacious.

Even the most powerful lords didn't dare default on their taxes. Refusal would invite the ire of nobles and bureaucrats alike, not to mention the royal family.

'This isn't greed… It must be part of some grander scheme,' Branford thought, puzzled by Ghislain's intentions. He had spent too little time with the young man to fully understand his motives.

However, Claude, who had experienced Ghislain's schemes first hand, immediately sensed trouble brewing.

'A tax exemption? He's not the type to hoard money for no reason. He must be planning something huge—something that requires even the tax money to be saved.'

Claude sighed heavily. 'Just when we could've focused on selling cosmetics, he has to stir things up again. Why can't I just be happy?'

Seeing Claude's near-despair, Branford chuckled to himself. If his vassal's reaction was anything to go by, Ghislain's request might not be entirely baseless.

Now Branford's curiosity was piqued. "Do you need anything else?"

"For now, this will suffice. If you grant my previous requests, the rest will resolve itself."

Branford understood the implication. Ghislain didn't need to ask for protection from other nobles' criticisms; the marquis's support would silence them.

With a faint smile, Branford thought, 'He had no choice but to come to me.'

Persuading the royal family and the faction to change their plans, granting a tax exemption, and shielding him from external attacks—no one but Branford could accomplish all that.

'What an audacious young man.'

No matter what position Ghislain sought, he was determined to use Branford as his stepping stone.

After a moment of deliberation, Branford decided to solidify their connection. "I hear you have a younger sister."

"Yes," Ghislain replied cautiously.

"How about forging an alliance with one of the royalist nobility? Perhaps even my own family. If you agree, I'll find an appropriate match from a collateral branch."

The room fell into stunned silence.

The cold and lofty Marquis Branford offering to arrange a marriage? Such an honor was beyond a humble house like Perdium.

Everyone expected Ghislain to accept immediately.

Instead, he lowered his head, rubbing his forehead as though stifling laughter.

'Of course, he's using my sister as a bargaining chip.'

When Ghislain looked up, his shoulders still shaking with suppressed amusement, he replied, "I'm grateful for the offer, but I must decline."

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