Chapter 72: Baron Miraze’s Outstanding Qualities

Just as Fred and Baron Miraze had expected, over the past few days the Cretan troops at Silver Shield Castle had not made any move at all, as if the only purpose of their long march across the border was to stand there and let us look at them. Their slow movements bought Delanmaya time to assemble its forces. The troops and noble private soldiers that were normally scattered everywhere kept arriving near the capital. At first, the units gathering here were still real fighting forces made up of several thousand men. But when the number of troops had grown to a certain level, and everyone knew that we could take the invading army outside the city at any time, those small and middle-ranking nobles who had initially wanted to preserve their own strength also sent their “reinforcements.” Those so-called “armies” of one hundred or two hundred peasants carrying pitchforks and hoes also marched into the capital in mighty display, becoming a way for their masters to obtain political capital by deception. The time to send troops out to fight was delayed again and again, because there were always noble lords trying to buy time for their relatives who were still hurrying to the capital, afraid that they would miss an easy victory. For a time, Morning Light City was crowded and lively, almost cramming all the nobles in the country into this great cage made of rock and statues.

Compared with the calm war situation, one of the protagonists of this war, Delanmaya’s young frontline commander, had been appearing frequently at all kinds of social occasions these days. As a new notable in the Royal Capital, his name was passed around by one important mouth after another. In the eyes of those cunning schemers, he was like a huge weight that could tip people’s psychological balance; and in the eyes of those noble young ladies and wives, this handsome, elegant, refined, and slightly shy young man was as lovely as an angel. Because of this, invitations to wine parties, dances, tea parties, operas, ballets, farces… letters of invitation flew at Fred more densely than arrows on a battlefield, almost suffocating him.

“I would rather fight a red dragon with my bare hands.” Every night, Fred climbed down from the carriage with a deathly pale face and out of breath, then collapsed onto his bed. This kind of socializing was indeed tiring. I once had the honor of attending a ball as Fred’s adjutant, and I saw a great deal of the nobles’ skills at scheming against each other, saying one thing while meaning another, and insulting each other in roundabout ways. For me, apart from the strong drinks treasured by noble families, which did have some appeal to me, there was nothing else worth anything.

The young Baron Miraze got what he wanted. Because he frequently appeared by Fred’s side and received a certain amount of friendliness and attention from my friend, the powerful lords of the Royal Capital began to show interest in this obscure little noble from the provinces. Although I found his behavior repulsive, I had to admit that the Baron had an almost inborn political sharpness, and I could hardly find another person as hardworking as him. I almost never saw him sleep. He spent almost every day reading, analyzing, organizing materials, and practicing swordsmanship, horsemanship, and archery.

At Fred’s suggestion, he became one of the newly appointed staff officers at headquarters and gradually displayed his military talents. Every day he sorted through a huge amount of intelligence and made analyses of the movement routes of the various legions. Moreover, his analyses were precise and detailed. The chaotic marching routes and timetables of those motley troops pouring toward the Royal Capital became clearly distinguishable under his organization, and the seemingly meaningless small movements from the Cretans and the Winston could always be traced to a clear purpose under his analysis.

Not only that, he acted like a competent secretary and sorted through the invitation letters that came from all directions for Fred, and he judged as quickly as possible whether a gathering must be attended, who would be at it, what topics would be brought up, how Fred should express his position, and so on. This really helped Fred a lot. In the hypocritical interpersonal relationships of noble circles, my friend could be called a natural weakling. Although the noble education he had received allowed him to use proper etiquette with almost anyone by instinct, expecting Fred to open a smooth road by himself in the delicate social network of high society was simply unrealistic.

“Tonight, please be sure to attend Countess Labardin’s salon with Miss Millia.” Baron Miraze pulled out an invitation and handed it to Fred.

“Why do I always have to go to that elderly widow’s house to listen to that lifeless religious music?” Fred finally burst out in anger. Compared with his calmness on the battlefield, having to put on a false show every day while socializing with a group of boring noblewomen made him irritable.

“There are still three invitations here. This one is Major General Crasse’s wine party. He is an old subordinate of General Buffon, who is a trusted aide of Duke Gallett. This one is Count Bergner’s ball. He is a close hunting friend of Colonel Kangena, who is the brother-in-law of Count Waters, and Count Waters is the brother-in-law of the Minister of Military Affairs. Do not ignore these faint and indirect connections, sir. You still do not know how to tell the hidden mysteries in them. In fact, no matter which gathering you attend, the rival faction in the undercurrent will resent you, and your action will be seen by those sensitive and foolish lords as a show of favor to one side, thereby breaking the balance of the current situation—which is exactly what you have been trying hard to avoid. The last one is from Miss Catherine Rosine. Um…” The young Baron paused for a moment here. This Miss Catherine Rosine was a famous socialite in the Royal Capital whose beauty was widely known. It was said that she was graceful and charming and quite good-looking. Her house was always filled with young, handsome, frivolous, and dissolute noble sons, and most of them were romantic talented men who had recently become very famous in the capital. This young lady seemed to treat attracting successful young men as an interesting game, and in the past few days she had frequently aimed at the youngest commander in the kingdom’s history.

“So, sir, using consideration for Miss Millia’s faith as the reason, attending the gathering of the Countess, who is a devout believer in the good god, will not drag you into any side’s power struggle. That is the best choice. Besides, the Countess has considerable prestige in social circles, and befriending her will bring you benefits you cannot imagine in many places. Of course, the third invitation is also a good choice, if you…” Baron Miraze waved the invitation in his hand without any respect, and at this moment Fred could only yield in resentment.

This was only one of the countless tiny decisions that Baron Miraze made for Fred. In just a few days, he had almost become Fred’s mouthpiece to the outside world, strictly controlling any of Fred’s words and actions that had, or could have, any tendency toward one side. He almost completely took control of Fred’s private life, manipulating Fred like one of his own personal belongings as he pleased, and seemed to satisfy his twisted desire for control from this. But I had to say that because of him, he helped Fred and us avoid a great many troubles that would otherwise have been unavoidable. He was like a skilled driver, carefully avoiding the bricks and stones lying in wait on the road, making the carriage called “Fred” travel with fright but no danger along a mountain path with cliffs on both sides, avoiding the danger of overturning.

“He is undoubtedly one of the most intelligent and far-sighted people I have ever met. If not for him, we might have become tools used by people at any moment and become a joke in others’ mouths. If not for the overly strong desire for power disturbing his heart, he could have become a great statesman and military strategist.” This was Fred’s evaluation of Baron Miraze. I had never heard my friend give such high praise to anyone. Even for his old enemy, Crown Prince Louis of the Winston Empire, his praise had never reached such a height.

“That’s just a pretty-faced talker who can only say things but can’t do them. If it were on the battlefield, I could make his head burst open in one blow.” Dakla’s evaluation was completely different. This reckless general had recently been mocked quite a lot by the Baron. The Baron’s aristocratic way of speaking and his undisguised contempt for us low-born officers made it hard for anyone to like him. But I felt that this dangerous young man was definitely not just a “pretty-faced talker.” When I was around him, I never forgot the look he had given Fred in the palace—that blazing, fire-like look. The reason he was only talking and not acting now was entirely because this was more advantageous for him. I felt that once the situation changed and it became necessary for him to pick up a sword himself, he would do no worse than anyone else, and might even be more frightening than others.

At the same time, the power struggle in the Royal Capital was growing fiercer. King Miguela’s health had not improved at all because of the Cretans’ inactivity. He was deteriorating at a speed almost visible to the naked eye. Every day in the court, the same old scenes were performed: sarcasm, ridicule, scandals, crimes, street gossip, new songs… every seemingly insignificant little thing became daggers and javelins thrown by the “friends” of Duke Gallett and Marquis Meneval at each other, without a single moment of rest. The weak king could only watch helplessly as the farce happened again and again without fail, and only when the two sides were quarreling fiercely and about to throw punches at each other did he sigh and stop them.

In private, the two lords closest to the highest seat of power did many shocking things. In just a few short days, no fewer than ten assassination attempts of various sizes took place in Morning Light City, and the targets were pointed directly at the closest allies of the two lords. Although not many actually succeeded, that was already enough to stir up a huge uproar in Morning Light City. The people in power reached a surprisingly unified opinion about these events, attributing them all to “spy activities” of the Cretans. For a time, spies were everywhere in Morning Light City. The city patrols and the gendarmerie greatly strengthened their inspections, and guards and sentry posts were placed every few steps in the city, arresting so-called “enemy spies” everywhere. The result of this matter was exactly as Fred and Miraze had said: apart from grabbing a few ordinary civilians to pass off as their achievements, the whole matter just quietly ended.

Only one thing could make me happy: the lords of both power camps frequently showed favor to Fred and sent many precious gifts to him again and again as “proof of friendship.” As for how to handle these things, Baron Miraze ordered us: “No matter which side the gifts come from, accept them all.”

If it were up to Fred’s temper, he probably would not even want to touch these things. His integrity and honesty made it impossible for him to accept such open bribery, and he did not want to make any affectionate gesture toward any side.

“But doing this does you no good at all, sir. It will only make them think you do not appreciate kindness. When they find that you are harder to buy than others, they will easily put someone else in this seat.” Baron Miraze explained to my friend.

“Accept them. Then, actively, subtly, and skillfully spread the word everywhere, and send this message to the other side in time, letting them feel that you can be bought—but only at a very high price. Then they will keep testing you, using money to compete with their opponents, and use your place as their arena. Even if they soon discover that what they have paid for you goes far beyond their expectations, by then they will be unwilling to give up what they have already invested, and will continue to add more investment in you, hoping to beat their rivals. The greedier you appear, sir, the safer we are.”

This sinister and vicious way of thinking brought us benefits: if a delicate ring appeared in Miss Millia’s hand in the morning, an expensive hair ornament would be worn by Miss Eliot in the afternoon; if Roll gained a fine sword at a ball, Riley would bring back a suit of armor made of precious metal from a wine party. Later, when the lords of all sides discovered that no fine or novel expensive gift could beat their rivals, the competition became gold against gold. Checks and gift boxes piled with gold and silver were sent to Fred’s residence, and the amount was so great that it could almost rebuild a city.

Fred never saw any of these gifts sent to him. Every reception was handled by Baron Miraze. The Baron used his glib tongue and promised one lord after another, with titles big enough to crush a person, the nonexistent “friendship from the General.” Everyone left his side with a satisfied expression. But it only took a little time for those lords who had paid huge prices to discover that they had gotten nothing except vague, ambiguous declarations. Even so, they still had to prepare even heavier gift boxes and come back, willing to be cheated by Baron Miraze again.

After all this, I sold all the things off through reliable channels with our friend Hugh, the young chairman of the Enrique Chamber of Commerce. Apart from giving a portion of the money to Baron Miraze according to a certain proportion, the rest was counted as a secret investment in the Enrique Chamber of Commerce in our personal names. This idea was raised by me when the hateful Baron was not around. For some reason, Baron Miraze always made me feel a vague worry about the future. Although I could not see through the fog ahead, I could feel a threat—a threat enough to drive us into a dead end. For the sake of that possibly desperate future, I thought it necessary to make early plans for our future. Even if this was only the groundless worry that the sky might fall, making one more escape route for ourselves was not a pointless thing. In comparison, I thought Hugh, who had gone through life-and-death hardships with us, was a person we could trust with this task.

I did not know whether I should be happy, but Fred also felt the potential danger, and together with the others, he agreed with my suggestion.

When I made this suggestion, I did not know that what we would obtain would be such astonishingly huge wealth. Only much later did we have the chance to understand that this small, careful step I took for our future had indirectly created the largest chamber of commerce on the continent, and truly became the support that helped us keep surviving when we were at the end of our rope.

War, conspiracies, power struggles… Just when we thought we had encountered all the annoying troubles in the world, we did not know that something even more troubling than these was happening. The effect this matter would have on us, especially on Fred, was greater than any trouble we had met before…