# The Marquis's Tent
Gilbert's tent was the largest and most magnificent in the military camp. After passing through the entrance where military and family banners hung crossed, Gilbert leisurely went to his seat and sat down.
"Sit wherever," he said.
"Hmm."
Ivan lightly ignored Gilbert's irritating chin gesture, sat down, and placed his legs on the tea table. Gilbert's eyebrows twitched.
"The armor."
"Yes, Your Highness!"
An attendant approached and began removing his armor. As the clasps of the thick armor came undone with clicks, he quietly shook his head.
"More slowly."
"Pardon? Ah, yes, Your Highness!"
The attendant began removing the armor at a turtle's pace. Oskar de Satieon broke into a cold sweat. This was quite a childish battle of nerves. It was considerably rude to do this in front of guests and unbecoming of a nobleman.
He carefully observed Ivan. Surprisingly, Ivan's expression was nothing short of serene.
He pulled out something small and metallic from his chest with a click. Upon closer inspection, it was a comb. Ivan began combing his beard in an extremely relaxed posture, wiggling his feet that were propped on the table as if he were in his own bedroom.
When this strange battle of nerves finally ended, Gilbert grumbled while looking at Ivan, who was still combing his beard.
"Annoying bastard..."
"Are you done?"
"Yes!"
"Good. Let's talk business."
Ivan folded his beard comb and wrapped it carefully in a silk handkerchief, tying it securely before placing it inside his chest.
This is maddening. Why did he bring that?
Isabelle de Etoile clutched her forehead.
"What business is there to discuss with someone who never sent a letter while alive?"
"A letter... Were you going through puberty? I didn't know."
"Does the Marquis know that the Lord Protector has the authority to summarily execute any person in this country? That is the power of a 'real' nobleman. Not just a title casually bestowed by some princess."
"You speak exactly like someone in puberty. Aging backward must be nice, staying young."
"Are you two perhaps on bad terms?"
At Isabelle's question, both men looked at her and nodded simultaneously.
Wow, they actually seem close. I can't believe uncle has a friend. Seriously.
Isabelle shook her head and sat down. As everyone gathered around the table, Ivan lowered his legs and carefully wiped away the shoe marks.
"Though I'm not at all happy to see that fellow... Bella. You look healthy, which is good to see. How is your study abroad? I was very worried since there's not a decent person among those Krasilov people."
"Ah... yes... Thanks to Your Highness's concern."
"Your Highness?! Call me like you used to!"
"That... was when I was ten years old..."
"Come on!!"
"Uncle Gilbert..."
"Adjutant!! Adjutant!!! Bring my treasury!! How much allowance do kids need these days?!"
Seeing him act so childishly regardless of his age, Ivan clicked his tongue. The Hero Party members were all madmen, generally speaking.
Beolgrin, Einar, and Enrique Sergeyevika were all equally frivolous despite their age. Isn't it basic for all living beings to mature with time? It must have been quite a trying time for the normal person who had been watching the party.
By the time Ivan's reflections ended, Gilbert was cheerfully greeting each member of the party.
It was a noble-like gesture. Welcoming guests was a nobleman's pride.
"Hmm, Elfihera Grikenkos. It's been a while. Good thing you don't take after your father."
"Excuse me...?"
"Honestly, you're better than Beolgrin, aren't you?"
"Ah... hahaha!"
Same old talk.
"Asidis Einarsdottir!! Oh... to see Einar's child grown up like this... Well, your mother-in-law should have been prettier."
"Mother-in-law? Isn't Einar older than you?"
"Someone who's still unmarried at that age has no right to join this conversation."
"How confusing."
This kind of conversation continued. When the welcoming of all Hero Party members was complete, Oskar carefully raised his hand.
"Father? I'm here too. I've also returned after half a year..."
"Have you been well?"
"Yes... thanks to you."
"That's good then."
Oskar nodded and lowered his hand. It's hard to tell who the child is. Gilbert finally gave Isabelle a bundle of gold coins as allowance despite her refusals, and then turned with a satisfied smile.
"So, did you come to introduce these children? Are you preparing the next generation?"
"It's still too early."
"Nonsense, they've grown up splendidly."
Gilbert surveyed the group with warm eyes, thinking how admirable they were.
Though their retirement wasn't that long ago—in fact, they still prided themselves on being active—still.
It was truly satisfying to see the next generation growing up like this. Especially as a first-generation nobleman who couldn't pass down his title.
The Lord Protector's status comes with a title that accompanies the position. It's a duty that isn't inherited. The Lord Protector is originally a knight who protects the country. It's something to be won by ability, not by birth.
Of course, since he had royal blood, his son would inherit the duke title, but what meaning would there be in being just a duke in name, without territory or position, a nobleman only by law?
Looking at his son's condition, he had grown remarkably. That was enough. Though he wasn't entirely pleased about sending him to study abroad, if Ivan was at that school, that was a different story.
The man might not be skilled at teaching others, but at least he was trustworthy.
"Send everyone away."
Ivan tapped the table and said.
"Everyone out. I have something to discuss with Duke Etakrihi."
"Hmm..."
Gilbert nodded to the attendant who glanced at him. Only after the attendant and the group had left the military tent did Ivan meet his gaze.
"What are you doing?"
"Hunting a dragon."
"Why is it taking so long?"
"Well, the beast flies around. And annoyingly, it's nocturnal. Would you like to join me tonight?"
"Madame de Etoile asked me. She said you were incompetent and needed help."
Ivan looked at Gilbert with cold eyes. Yet scattered within those coldly frozen eyes were fragments of worry and doubt.
"What are you aiming for?"
"What do you mean? Well..."
"No, enough with the pretty words. This force is excessive for catching one dragon. I saw the supply lines cut on my way here. The effort to maintain this force must be considerable. The Eastern Knight Order alone would have been sufficient from the beginning."
Generally speaking, how much force is needed to face a dragon? This part remains in accurate historical records.
For ordinary soldiers, that is, trained professional forces, about three to four thousand were needed.
Dragons can use magic, breathe fire that melts castle walls, and fly through the sky. Their scales basically block spears and swords easily, and with magic, they can even defend against artillery.
If one had to describe them, they're close to bombers. Without anti-aircraft batteries, bombers are the nightmare of infantry. So, assuming sufficient preparation has been made, when preparations are complete enough to work against a flying dragon, a force of about three to four thousand would be possible.
But that's the story for ordinary people. With Gilbert and the Eastern Knight Order he leads, the calculation must be different.
Gilbert alone is a powerful warrior capable of hunting dragons, and if the Eastern Knight Order he leads joins in, they could eliminate even more than ten dragons without casualties.
So it's an excessive force. Because of leading such a large force on this expedition, the supply lines have become vulnerable, and to the extent that nobles are exploiting this weakness to engage in behind-the-scenes machinations, causing damage.
Gilbert couldn't possibly be unaware of the importance of supplies. In those days, the greatest enemy of soldiers was arguably supplies.
"Hmm."
The smile disappeared from Gilbert's lips. With a hardened face, he sighed briefly.
"Ivan, this borders on interference in internal affairs. Just enjoy your sightseeing leisurely and go back."
"I cannot do that."
"I'm not saying this for my sake. If you get involved in this, you'll see some ugly things. The retirement you hoped for, even holding a funeral, will become impossible."
"I don't care."
Ivan firmly shook his head. He looked straight at Gilbert and said.
"Count Orleans, Count Grandmartel, Count Vermontfort. I heard those three are trying to remove you. Wasn't this situation strange from the beginning? A dragon appearing at such a convenient moment to send you outside the royal palace."
"Yes, it's intentional. They're trying to get rid of me. That's natural, isn't it? I don't know where or how they got the dragon, but they must have prepared for a long time."
Gilbert shrugged his shoulders.
"I've been hunting leisurely, spending time, emptying my forces. Without me, those guys will no longer hide their ambitions. I know."
"Then why...?"
"It's about justification, Ivan. For nobles, that's the most important thing, and the only thing that has value."
Just because one has power doesn't mean they can immediately lead troops to execute nobles. That's impossible not only for the Lord Protector but even for the king of this country.
Power doesn't guarantee the system. The social system must be established under rationality and law. A society where power is the sole basis for action is ultimately no different from demon tribes.
Look at the demon tribes. They scattered with the death of the Demon King. The demon warlords, having lost their focal point, now willingly stab and devour their comrades for the few remaining interests.
Would humans be any different? If the power of the ruler becomes the reason for authority, it cannot be called a state.
The title of Lord Protector exists to protect the country.
It is the greatest authority given to the strongest, and the greatest duty. It is a great honor and, at the same time, a great shackle.
The right of a first-generation nobleman that doesn't pass to descendants, power that even members of the royal family cannot ignore, yet limited by the fact that it ends with one's generation.
Despite these shackles, Gilbert willingly gave up all other rights he rightfully deserved. To protect the kingdom.
And protecting the country doesn't just mean repelling external enemies. It includes protecting the core of the nation, its system, its laws, and all the people who live trusting in them.
Because it shouldn't be natural for the strong to exploit the weak. Because all interactions between people should rightfully be concluded on the basis of rationality.
That was Gilbert's duty. He doesn't directly execute the nobles who check him and eat away at this country. He merely waits for them to act.
Like a lion just before the hunt, quietly lying in wait. Without making even a breath sound, quietly.
So that the foolish prey can play around with a sense of security.
When that moment comes, this country will become his hunting ground.
"...Well, you must have your own thoughts."
Ivan shook his head and leaned back in his chair. Come to think of it, he was also the one who best understood politics among the Hero Party members.
That is, excluding Beolgrin. Generally, elves are political creatures just by being alive.
At Ivan's words, Gilbert smiled and said.
"Ah, by the way. Do you know where the dragon has made its nest?"
"I heard it's in the Bernina Mountains."
"The largest and most rugged mountain in the northeast. But you know..."
Gilbert grinned and spoke in a subtle tone.
"Strange structures have been discovered near its nest."
"Strange structures?"
"We've been searching all possible hiding places that could serve as nests in the area, and during that process, something strange was found in a cave."
He tapped a corner of the map and said.
"Traces of underground structures not recorded in any documents. Haven't you seen cases like this before?"
"...A dungeon."
"Yes. Remember the old days?"
"Hmm..."
The points Gilbert marked on the map were quite far apart, considering the scale.
If all those points are considered parts of a single structure, its scale could potentially encompass the entire underground of the mountain range.
Like a dwarf city. A dungeon of this scale not recorded in documents.
Digging into the mountain range underground to build structures is impossible with ordinary manpower. It would be close to a major construction project requiring national-level labor.
The fact that such things are buried under soil and not recorded in documents means one thing. Ivan already knew about such ruins.
It was something he often saw during his time with the Hero Party.
Ancient ruins from the era when gods walked the earth. From the time when today's religions were treated as mere sects.
It's an ancient vault with tremendous treasures buried. And according to academy common sense, this is likely a level-up event.
'Was it a linked quest...?'
Ivan couldn't help but smile seeing Gilbert's smile.
I see, he's saying he'll yield to the youngsters of this generation. What a sly fellow.
"The hunt comes first. Madame de Etoile now wants you to return home. Madame Etakrihi would want the same."
"Well, I've stalled enough time. Since the supply lines are cut, it seems they're about to make their move."
"So let's finish this quickly."
It's still impossible to know what the high nobles are preparing. It's even impossible to guess.
There's no way there's a means in this country to kill Gilbert, who leads the Eastern Knight Order, in the field.
Therefore, Ivan had to accompany Gilbert at least until the end of this operation.
Even if there exists a design capable of killing Gilbert, they wouldn't have included him in their calculations.
In the days when they had reliable scouts, the Hero Party had even broken through the lair of the Seven Dragon Kings without casualties.
According to Krasilov's tactical doctrine, when one has sufficient power, one should willingly enter the enemy's trap. Because they can directly face the best the enemy has prepared.