บท 11: Chapter 11: The Politics of Beasts
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Valerius sat at the long, polished table in his grand study, tapping his fingers lightly on the armrest of his chair. Sunlight streamed in through the large windows, casting a golden glow across the room. A stack of reports and letters from nobles across the empire sat in front of him, untouched. He had much to think about after the recent encounter at the gate.
But instead, his thoughts drifted elsewhere.
"Rhoan," he called casually, his eyes scanning the elaborate wood carvings on the ceiling.
"Yes, my lord?" Rhoan appeared from the doorway, his expression as serious as ever.
"Tell me, does it seem to you that these nobles are… a little too interested in the gate's profits?" Valerius tilted his head, pretending to be deep in thought. "I mean, are we not in an empire that's supposed to protect its people from the beasts?"
Rhoan, always ready to indulge his master's musings, kept his face neutral. "Indeed, my lord. However, it seems that beast cores and mana-infused meat have become… quite the luxury."
Valerius let out a slow, exaggerated sigh, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Ah, yes. Who can resist the allure of grilling a nice Rank 3 beast steak on the weekend?"
Rhoan blinked. "Perhaps not quite the way they view it, my lord, but yes."
In truth, Valerius found it amusing how quickly these powerful nobles had turned hunting terrifying beasts into a booming business venture. A part of him wanted to laugh at the absurdity. There were people out there facing life-threatening battles at the gates, while some rich lord was probably out there experimenting with beast pâté recipes.
Still, this was valuable information. The gate beasts—especially their cores—were becoming increasingly profitable. He could use that to his advantage, and what better way to manipulate the nobles than through their pockets?
"Do you know what I think, Rhoan?" Valerius asked, leaning back in his chair and stretching out as if he were preparing for a nap.
"No, my lord, but I suspect you will tell me."
"I think… that if these nobles are so keen on hunting beasts, we should let them." Valerius' smirk widened. "But, of course, we'll need to ensure they pay handsomely for the privilege. After all, the danger... the risk... who's to say when things might go wrong?" He shrugged theatrically.
"Very wise, my lord. They would be indebted to you for the opportunity to risk their lives for profit."
"Exactly!" Valerius slapped the table lightly, amused. "But let's not forget: we should also give them the chance to bid on which beasts they want. You know, like a little… auction. Make them feel important. Keep them busy with 'business,' so they don't have time to meddle in politics."
Rhoan suppressed a smile. "I will send the invitations, my lord."
Valerius sighed contentedly. He could already see the nobles clamoring for the most profitable gates, all while he sat back, collecting his share and watching them fight among themselves. It would be entertaining.
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Later that afternoon, Valerius stepped into the training grounds outside his estate, where his knights were sparring and preparing for the next gate expedition. As he observed, his eyes caught something unusual—a young recruit struggling to lift a sword nearly his own size. The sword wobbled dangerously in the air before crashing down, nearly missing the recruit's foot.
Valerius quirked an eyebrow. "Is that a sword or a tree trunk?"
The recruit, red-faced and embarrassed, snapped to attention. "Forgive me, my lord!"
"No need for apologies." Valerius strode forward, effortlessly lifting the massive sword with his telekinesis. It hovered in the air beside him as he inspected the boy. "But tell me, are you trying to slay a beast or a mountain?"
The other knights snickered quietly, but Valerius waved them off with a smile. "Pick something that won't break your back before you even see the battlefield. Trust me, the beasts won't care if your sword is a foot shorter. They'll be dead either way."
The recruit nodded, grateful for the advice. Valerius let the sword drop lightly into the boy's hands and turned his attention to Rhoan, who had been silently observing.
"See to it that he trains properly," Valerius said in a low voice. "We can't have soldiers dying from self-inflicted injuries."
"As you wish, my lord."
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As evening settled over the estate, Valerius returned to his private quarters. He sat by the window, looking out over the sprawling land, the distant mountains, and the ever-watchful gate in the distance. He could feel it—a strange hum of energy that called to him, whispering promises of power and danger.
Yet, as dangerous as the world was, Valerius found himself somewhat amused. The empire was practically a giant chessboard, and everyone around him was a piece waiting to be moved. The nobles were predictable, the soldiers loyal, the beasts profitable. It was all falling into place.
But there were still mysteries. The emperor's sister, for one—her presence lingered in his mind. And then there was the ever-growing feeling that the gods and demons were watching him, though he had no proof. He could almost sense their eyes on him, like puppeteers observing from afar, waiting to see how the pieces would fall.
"Let them watch," Valerius muttered to himself, his gaze still fixed on the horizon. "They'll see something interesting soon enough."
His eyes flicked to the gate, a twisted smile forming on his lips. There were more beasts to hunt, more profits to be made, and more power to seize. But in the end, it was all just a game—a game he intended to win.
And if the gods and demons had their own stakes in this world?
Well, they weren't the only ones who could play.
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End of Chapter 11
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