Now that a turncoat has appeared, he is testing my leadership skills for the future.
“If a subordinate sides with someone higher than you, like what happened recently, how do you plan to resolve it?”
Darc’s loaded question silenced the warden’s office.
Everyone was staring at me intently.
“This is my last question.
If you give me a reasonable answer this time, I will acknowledge you.” “…”
I am a newly appointed prison warden of the borderlands.
On the other hand, the Holy See is the largest religious power in the Empire.
It’s only natural that the destitute guards are more drawn to them than to me.
But…
“There’s an easy way to do that.”
I know very well how to handle opportunists.
And also how to bring retribution upon a bigshot who dared to threaten the warden, despite being a prisoner himself.
“I just have to connect them to someone ‘higher’ than the Holy See.”
A deep wrinkle formed between Darc’s brows.
Just like in the past, when he’d had heated debates with the Chancellor in the Council of Elders.
“Starting today, I will assign the guards of Berihill as the Elder’s escort.”
I picked up the whiskey glass in front of me.
The ice in the glass danced cheerfully.
“My subordinates will be delighted.
After all, they’ll get to serve someone far, far higher than the Holy See.
Since they’re opportunists by nature, they’ll even thank me for it.”
I don’t drink things like tea.
Like the vile villain I was, I savored a delicious sip of the golden liquor.
“They’ll think of me, the one who connected them, as part of the Elder’s faction, so my prestige will naturally rise as well.”
The Head of the National Tax Service, who was listening from behind, glanced at Darc.
Indeed, a chilling shadow fell over the old man’s face, who had been listening in silence.
“Who said I would accept these greenhorns as my subordinates?” “I don’t need your permission.
Whether you like it or not, I’m going to keep them by your side, Elder.”
At his question, the corners of my mouth curled up wide.
Unintimidated, from the position of an equal king on the chessboard.
“Afterward, I will purchase military supplies from the Capital.
On a grand enough scale for all the nobles to know.”
Clea, sensing my intention, parted her lips slightly.
Because she knew how important rumors and image were to politicians.
“The Elder, who everyone thought was in exile, was secretly raising a private army.
Your inner circle will be thrilled, thinking you had a profound intention all along when they thought you’d retired.”
I set down the empty whiskey glass.
And refilled it myself.
“The enemies who intended to betray you, Elder, won’t make a move either.
They’ll hide again and wait for their time.”
My face was reflected on the surface of the golden liquid.
Revealing the expression from my days as a Chancellor, when I was tormented by political enemies just like him.
“With the knife meant to one day stab you hidden forever.”
Darc reached for the red tea in front of him.
As he was about to take a quiet sip, he realized the tea had gone completely cold.
“Do you have multiple lives?
There’s nothing you won’t say to my face.”
The old man quietly tilted his teacup.
As if resolutely casting aside something worthless, he let the tea water flow onto the saucer.
“Well, for me, I can just step down from the position of warden.
It’s not like I have any more renown to lose.”
I slowly pushed the newly poured glass toward Darc.
Accompanied by a despicable smile.
“Nothing will change if I act up a little before I go down.
But you, Elder, seem to have a lot to lose, don’t you?”
The old man glared menacingly at the long, snake-like eyes before him.
As if he wanted to stomp on this one large snake that had nothing to lose.
“…Since you don’t have the power to solve this yourself, are you resorting to threats?” “If we’re talking about threats, you started it.”
I said, looking at the Head of the National Tax Service who had raided this place in a single day.
He cleared his throat and turned his head away.
“Let’s end this battle of wills here, Great Elder.”
I no longer humored him.
I warned him with a gaze befitting his longtime political enemy.
“You’re going to have to pick up that glass.
While our relationship is still good.”
The mere prison warden of the borderlands had responded to the King of Nobles with a checkmate.
Here, not in the Capital, I am the King of Prisoners.
“…”
The Great Elder silently stared at the golden liquor placed before him.
He was someone who usually avoided alcohol so as not to reveal any weaknesses.
He only occasionally shared a drink with a blood ally with whom a slip of the tongue would be acceptable.
In other words, if I accept this drink, I too will form a blood alliance with him.
“I see.”
After a moment of silence, the Elder cleanly admitted that he had struck first.
If he didn’t admit it here, it would only make his inner circle who raided this place look strange.