Chapter 122: The Stomachache Margrave’s Opening Ceremony
Have I done something to earn such resentment?
Margrave Comsas Dortwil of Makikomarkrow tilted his head as he placed the report he had just finished reading back on his desk.
Knowing full well I lacked the authority, was asking the Sister of the Church who accompanied the Longdagger Couple to submit a report really something deserving of this kind of harassment?
What is this self-proclaimed subjugation report that only details this couple flirting with each other?
The crucial part about the Blackened Dragon’s subjugation is just three lines! Three lines!
And the content is, ‘Just when I thought Shin-san had disappeared, an Azure Flame went burst, and the Dragon fell to pieces.’ Are you kidding me? You must be kidding, right?
Do you even know the meaning of a report?
Well, I appreciate that you submitted it the day after returning, but still.
Margrave Comsas carefully rubbed the bridge of his nose. If he wasn’t careful, he felt like he might burp.
“Well now, my apologies.”
A voice that didn’t sound particularly apologetic reached Comsas.
It irritated him that the owner of the voice was sitting coolly on the reception sofa, sipping tea.
“Are all the Sisters under you like this?”
He couldn’t possibly direct his resentment towards a mere Sister.
Therefore, Comsas directed his complaints fully towards the owner of the voice.
“Hahaha.”
The owner of the voice, Bishop Bival Vivaldi, the highest authority in the Makikomarkrow Margraviate’s diocese, laughed evasively.
In other words, the Sister who wrote this report was an exception.
Comsas glared resentfully at Bishop Bival, but the other man maintained his cool composure.
“Still, seeing you put on your adventurer face again was quite nostalgic.”
Bival changed the subject, his eyes narrowing with genuine nostalgia—likely not just to evade the topic.
He’s skillfully diverting the conversation again, Comsas thought, recalling the past as he waved his hand dismissively at his old acquaintance, the Bishop.
“Things are too different from when I partied with you. If possible, I’d rather never go through that again.”
Comsas said this, looking down at his own body, which had grown considerably rounder.
Everything he had said before the soldiers and adventurers had been sincere, but if he had truly faced the Blackened Dragon then and there, he likely wouldn’t have been able to live up to his words.
“I probably would have died without even managing to land a single blow on the Dragon.”
“My prime is long past.”
No, that’s just romanticizing the past.
Comsas gave a wry smile inwardly, thinking how old he had become.
“Even in my prime, it would have been difficult for me to land even a single blow.”
He hadn’t been such a great adventurer.
He’d been a half-hearted one, having become an adventurer merely to escape his position as the Margrave’s heir.
“Is that so?”
The Bishop, his former party member who knew that not-so-great prime, said this while sipping his tea.
Even if they were comrades who had spent time together when the town was united in its efforts to recover from the terrible period when Hecate lost many of its influential adventurers, that was still an overestimation.
Despite thinking this, Comsas felt a little pleased.
No good. I can’t afford to get so old that I rejoice at praise for my past.
So, he brought his thoughts back to the present.
“Still, that Sister of yours has gotten acquainted with quite the pair.”
“That, too, must be the guidance of God.”
Seeing Bival say this with a face more like a father than a Bishop, Comsas almost tilted his head.
Is this really something to be happy about?
“One of them is the type who essentially took down a Blackened Dragon single-handedly, you know?”
“The other is the attempted assassin of the Maiden of Light, you know?”
An undeniable question arose, but then Comsas recalled the Bishop from his adventuring days—Come to think of it, this guy was quite something himself—and dismissed the doubt.
“Thanks to that, I’m racking my brain trying to figure out how to deal with them.”
Seriously, what should I do?
How should one reward adventurers who succeeded in the subjugation of a Blackened Dragon?
If they were just ordinary adventurers, the matter would be simple.
He could just give them a reward commensurate with their achievement.
But they were former nobles from another country who had been exiled.
Handling this incorrectly could, in the worst case, lead to war.
Moreover, the other country was “that Faltar.”
Furthermore, the exiled former noble was an enemy of the Church—the attempted assassin of the Maiden of Light.
If mishandled, the Margraviate of Makikomarkrow could even be abandoned by the central government.
Just imagining it made his stomach clench tightly.
He couldn’t tell if what was about to escape his lips was a sigh or a groan.
He recalled his foolishness from his younger days, long ago, when they had clashed with Faltar over tariffs or something, and he had thought they should just crush Faltar by force since it was just a small country.
Good job holding back, my younger self. You absolutely must not pick a fight with a country capable of exiling people like that.
As Comsas instinctively reached for his stomach, a light voice called out to him.
“Wouldn’t it be best to do nothing?”
Comsas was startled by Bival’s suggestion, which sounded almost like casual agreement.
“No, but…”
Ah, but… he’s right.
Comsas removed his hand from his stomach and placed it on his chin, thinking.
Exiled nobles wouldn’t normally want to stand out in another country.
Although, whether they were “normal” was debatable.
“If there’s something they desire, they’ll likely say so themselves.”
That’s unpleasant in its own way, Comsas thought.
He disliked situations where he couldn’t prepare in advance.
But when it came to what those two might desire, he couldn’t imagine it at all.
Which meant he couldn’t prepare.
Hmm.
“It would be fine if it just cost me my head…”
It was a mutter laced with half-serious worry, but upon hearing it, Bishop Bival burst out laughing, clutching his stomach.
Comsas glared at his former party member, who was as optimistic as ever, feeling a twinge of envy.
“Ah, apologies. I couldn’t help myself.”
As Bival apologized while still chuckling, Comsas expressed his displeasure with just a snort. Just then, a knock overlapped with the sound.
“Come in.”
Bival watched Comsas invite the knocker in with words unbefitting a noble, a nostalgic look in his eyes.
The person who entered was the Butler serving the Dortwil family.
Glancing at the sealed letter handed to him along with the words, “It is urgent,” Comsas quickly broke the seal and scanned the letter inside.
The next moment after realizing his own eyebrows were twitching, Comsas collapsed.
“Com!?”
He grabbed the arm of Bival, who had rushed over, shouting his old nickname, as he lay sprawled on his back, chair and all.
“Bival, your Sister is quite something too, you know.”
For some reason, without a shred of doubt, Comsas was convinced that the Sister in question had simply forgotten to write this in the report, as he spoke to the former priest who had also been ‘quite something’.
“The Maiden of Light, a prince from a neighboring country, and the Pope to boot?”
Does everyone have some grudge against my stomach?
Now, what should I do? Comsas wondered, enduring the sharp pain in his stomach.