NOVEL WEB Chapter 311
It was cold.
The tombstone in the cemetery was so cold that it felt like ice put in a freezer.
Even though it wasn’t raining, Francisco van Kartroi murmured to himself as he stood before the chilly gravestone, slightly bowing his head.
“…Eighty-eight years, what a long life you had.”
Having lived past eighty during the greatest war of his life, he died without suffering from any long-term illness or deep wounds. It was a good death, if one could call it that.
If only the way he chose to meet his death hadn’t been misguided.
“Such foolishness.”
The eyes of the Duke of Cartroi instantly turned cold. He glared at the gravestone with a look of disdain and weakness.
Within them lay regret. Grieving for the harshness of a death, combined with the sadness of a once-mighty general who wielded power on the battlefield, now fading away so pathetically.
And ultimately, the scorn directed at the obstinate old man, who ruined everything with his characteristic strong will and stubbornness.
All these feelings swirled together, settling deep within the eyes of the Duke of Cartroi.
“If you hadn’t been there… No, at least if the old man had kept quiet like an old hermit, sealing his foolish mouth, the world would have been much more peaceful.”
Elves wouldn’t have been spreading a frightening atmosphere of national subversion as they are now, and the dwarves firmly rooted in the mountains wouldn’t have tried to brazenly control minerals while keeping a watchful eye.
Those nations that were defeated. The abject creatures who had no honor but crawled on the ground to protect their territories and autonomy.
Years later, having somewhat recovered from the scars of war, they were now overconfident, subtly baring their fangs.
“Unscrupulous.”
The Duke of Cartroi bit down hard on his teeth. This couldn’t go on, it truly couldn’t.
The Duke of Cartroi had the status, power, and strength to change the future. He had not risen to the rank of Major General, only one level higher than the war hero, the Duke of Adelhaid, whom people praised endlessly.
But, of all people…
‘Of all people, you had to be my superior…!’
His clenched fist trembled with rage. Hot breaths filled with anger escaped through the gaps in his teeth.
As he suppressed his anger, the Duke of Cartroi let out a deep sigh and relaxed his tense body. Unintentionally muttering words difficult to express.
Damn that old man.
The owner of the gravestone, resting peacefully before him, was utterly detestable. His pride in achieving peace in our time through a ridiculous choice loomed so heavily in the Duke of Cartroi’s dreams that it disturbed his sleep.
“You know, don’t you? That peace agreements shouldn’t have been made like that.”
Just a few more months. No, a few weeks more of offense, and those mixed races would have crumbled like dominoes. But this old man messed it all up.
Claiming no more sacrifices could be tolerated, and that he couldn’t bear to watch the young generation meant to shoulder the empire’s future perish before his very eyes, he spoke as though he were the lone lion of peace, a saint who despised violence—such memories unfolded in a panorama in the Duke of Cartroi’s sight.
Ignoring the Duke of Cartroi’s cries that it shouldn’t stop here, that if he drew his sword, he must ensure they did not fully mature, he strode towards the peace agreement venue with a shameless smile on his face.
Who was it that had driven those young people to the brink of despair?
Did he think that way, he could escape the blame for those countless young lives extinguished?
How could a man who spent days and nights pondering how to efficiently slaughter dwarves and elves suddenly act like a saint wishing for peace?
“Having four stars pinned to your chest, why? Have you ceased to see what’s before you? Haven’t you?”
His sharp tongue only seemed to betray him. The Duke of Cartroi gazed at the gravestone with a pitiful expression before inhaling deeply and shaking his head.
Engaging in a stare-down with a motionless stone, not talking or moving, felt utterly pathetic to him.
“…If your beliefs were that strong, you should have taken them elsewhere.”
The image of the old man hanging there still lingered in the Duke of Cartroi’s mind.
Hanging a sturdy rope from a high ceiling light and suspending his lightweight body, just like a piece of meat in a butcher shop.
With his tongue protruding, his lifeless pupils spread like paint.
As that image resurfaced, the Duke of Cartroi suddenly produced a hollow laugh.
“Pathetic. Truly pathetic.”
The general of the empire’s defense force, a commander who had led the ground defense headquarters during significant war victories, one of the four respected generals, met such a vacant end—it was unbearably pitiful.
In the crumpled and unremarkable letter he left behind were complaints and regrets about leading the great war to victory, filled with resentment against himself for forcing death upon many.
Hypocritical old man.
Muttering that, the Duke of Cartroi clicked his tongue. A white, watery droppings of a bird fell with a splat onto the gravestone.
At that moment, an unthinkable thought blossomed in the Duke of Cartroi’s mind.
Bird droppings sticky and sliding down the cold hard gravestone.
Ignoring it, as he looked around, indeed no one was around.
The Duke of Cartroi hesitated not. Without an ounce of rejection, he spat thick saliva onto the already soiled gravestone and brushed off his trousers as he stood up.
His spit landed with a slap against the gravestone. Layered over the white bird droppings, it wasn’t a pretty sight even to the Duke of Cartroi as the one who had spat it out.
It wasn’t something anyone would do to a person buried in an imperial cemetery, but the Duke of Cartroi didn’t care for any civic consciousness at all.
“I won’t become like you.”
Thick and watery spit slowly flowed down the engraved name on the gravestone.
Someone would notice it, but it was none of the Duke of Cartroi’s concern. After all, the cemetery caretaker would surely clean it up, or distant family members he didn’t know would come and wipe it down.
“I will never, never miss an opportunity sitting on the fence like you.”
Those who cannot see the approaching opportunities are ignorant.
Those who see the opportunities but cannot grasp them are cowardly.
And those who, having worked hard to cultivate an opportunity with their own hands, turn their back at the last moment, hesitating to seize it.
“I will live. I won’t cowardly evade sins through death.”
Such individuals are the truly incompetent ones.
And the Duke of Cartroi despised the incompetent.
Having finished his words, the Duke of Cartroi left without looking back.
His step was strangely quick yet slightly unsteady.
As he walked away from the cemetery, a gust of wind suddenly blew by.
It was a sign of respect for a former superior officer at the military academy whom he once respected and followed.
And ultimately, it was a mixture of resentment and regret towards the fate that ended tragically after they could not come to an agreement.
All these feelings gathered toward the lonely cemetery, with its dirty gravestone covered in unidentifiable spittle and bird droppings.
—Whoooooosh.
The wind blew once again.
This time from a slightly different direction.
* * * * *
The commoner proportional representative member of the Imperial Senate, Serge Lavang, sat with an expression that seemed he could no longer endure the boredom.
And indeed, he was genuinely bored.
“That local head’s personal matters are for the local citizens’ assembly to resolve, aren’t they?”
“No, if it were that trivial, it wouldn’t have come to the Senate.”
“Then let’s move on to the next item. What is this nonsense?”
‘Boring.’
It was boring. The sight of all the senators clinging to such trivial matters and bickering was simply tiresome.
Before being elected as a proportional representative in the Senate, Serge had been an ordinary member of the citizens’ assembly.
Of course, being a member of the assembly made him a little distinct from the incredibly ordinary imperial citizens, but still, the assembly was the lower parliament composed of commoners.
Out of 500 people gathered, Serge was just one among them, a man of no particular distinction.
Receiving light kisses from his wife and children upon departing for work, he did his utmost to resolve matters regarding his local district as usual.
There were, of course, some exceptions. There were dirty representatives who took bribes and turned a blind eye to local head’s corruption, and some who were disgracefully expelled from the assembly after engaging in affairs with secretaries.
Not to mention, some representatives embezzled local budgets to squander them in gambling (that representative is rotting in prison), so Serge was among the relatively diligent and clean figures in the assembly.
That said, not every senator in the assembly was corrupt, but…
At the very least, being one of the few members elected as a commoner proportional representative and rising to the Senate from the assembly was certainly a point in his favor.
No matter how many noble supporters a corrupt individual had, they wouldn’t be accepted in the Senate.
There were countless nobles in the Senate. With nearly 100 of them belonging to prominent families, no one could start rattling on about their connections.
Until that unexpected rise to the Senate, Serge Lavang had thought that a bright future indeed awaited him.
“Then let’s conclude the matters of Dantong and Lurebon.”
“Dantong, fine, but why just let Lurebon go?”
“Didn’t the local head of the two areas conspire to commit tax evasion?”
“No, that’s…”
Yet, if he had known the Senate was this trivial, he would have never accepted the position.
Work was more demanding than in the assembly and his sleep time was diminishing, but the constructive discussions he had anticipated rarely emerged as agenda items.
Part of it was because the assembly wasn’t convened very often to begin with.
“Aah—. Let’s move on to the next agenda item.”
The discomfort creeping into the atmosphere was, of course, mitigated by the Duke of Adelhaid, standing at the forefront of the Senate.
As he solemnly struck the hammer twice, some disgruntled noble members straightened up and cleared their throats.
“This agenda is…”
As the Duke of Adelhaid flipped through the papers, suddenly his expression soured.
“…A re-vote is needed for the Imperial Legislative Order No. 138-9, which was passed in the last vote.”
“…Order No. 138-9?”
“What’s that? Chief Secretary.”
“Hey, do we have the related materials?”
While the Senate members fumbled around, Serge Lavang nonchalantly stared at the paper handed to him by the secretary.
“…Hmm?”
An amendment for compensation to war veterans and disabled veterans.
To conduct a re-vote on the bill proposed by the Duke of Adelhaid himself felt too sudden.
“Mr. Chair! Isn’t this a matter already passed?”
As senators began to voice their concerns, the Duke of Adelhaid grabbed the microphone again, sporting a thoroughly withered expression.
“…The Defense Ministry exercised veto power.”
“…Veto power?”
Serge instinctively understood upon hearing that the veto power of a minister, which hadn’t been practically used in the last 150 years, had been enacted.
‘…We’re in trouble.’
With the change of seasons, a wind of change was blowing in.