Virgin Knight Who Is the Frontier Lord in the Gender Switched World - Chapter 238

The most important thing for a noble is to carry on the family line.

To protect the family and the lands.

Even if it means using the most brutal means.

Even if it means enduring unspeakable humiliation, to the point where blood seeps from the teeth clenched in anger.

Even if it means dying.

No matter what, the bloodline must be preserved.

That’s why, in that regard, my father made a mistake.

It would have been better if he had abandoned me.

Sometimes, I think he should have left me behind and made a new child with my mother.

That’s what I think about the man who gave his bread to his daughter and starved to death.

No, perhaps not.

My mother passed away early too.

When my father and I were captured, he starved to death, and as soon as the Emperor reclaimed the throne, my mother died as if a string had snapped.

How pitiful.

So perhaps it was for the best that my father protected me until the end, dying in the process.

At least, that’s what I hope.

Still, I feel a nagging sense of disgust.

Most likely, it’s self-loathing.

I can’t shake the feeling that it was I who killed him—my kind father, who protected me to his death.

Because of the trauma, I can only stomach a slice of bread and a cup of soup at most.

I am deeply, deeply disappointed in myself.

With this body, I may not be able to carry on the bloodline.

I may not be able to preserve my family, our lands, or the blood passed down to me from my beloved mother and father.

I may not be able to uphold the pride of my father and mother.

That cannot happen.

Even if I cease to be Emperor, I don’t care.

I would gladly sacrifice this Imperial City, overrun with citizens who let my father starve.

When Valiere burned down the newspapers that gleefully wrote about his death, I felt pure joy.

Just, pure joy.

I savor that joy.

Lately, I’ve even had more of an appetite.

When I asked for seconds of soup, my attendant wept with happiness.

But I still feel empty.

My thoughts remain scattered.

Faust von Polydoro.

A superhuman.

Rare blood.

A weak noble, yet far removed from my Imperial lineage.

Even if he were to mix with my bloodline, he would cause no harm.

I want him.

I want him.

I want you, Faust.

You are surely the one my family—my hollow bloodline—needs.

You are the one needed by my family, where inbreeding has caused our blood to become too thick, leading to early deaths.

I stop thinking for a moment.

My superior mind organizes the tasks I need to address.

There are three.

Revenge.

Revenge on the Imperial City’s Citizen Council for letting my father starve.

Once I accomplish that, my trauma might lessen somewhat.

The bloodline.

I need to bring Faust von Polydoro into the family.

I must take his blood into my lineage and bear his child.

There are many problems to overcome for that to happen.

Surrender.

Our Gusten Empire cannot possibly defeat Mongolia.

Therefore, I must seek the best possible terms for surrender.

This includes handing over the Imperial City if necessary.

Revenge, bloodline, and surrender.

I understand those three pillars.

But I also know that accomplishing all three at once will be difficult.

Even the simplest, revenge, is not easy.

I must make good use of Valiere von Anhalt.

She will surely destroy the Citizen Council, but she’s soft in some areas.

I’ll have to help her a little, just to be sure there are no loose ends.

As for the bloodline, the next hardest task, I need to determine whether Faust von Polydoro is truly fit to join my lineage.

I must evaluate him and seduce him into impregnating me.

It’s a difficult task.

But it must be done.

Lastly, the most challenging is the surrender.

The Electors are against it.

Anastasia, Katarina, Eugen.

Anhalt, Virendorf, Mainz—they won’t stand for simply accepting defeat.

Fools.

They don’t realize that we cannot win against Mongolia, no matter how hard they try.

Fine then, I’ll abdicate the throne.

Let them put whoever they want—Katarina of Virendorf, or even that Duke Temeraire who was mocked as Reckenber’s lapdog—on the throne and challenge Mongolia.

They’ll lose anyway.

And when that happens, it will have nothing to do with me or my family.

Now, my thoughts are organized.

I’ve identified the key points and what must be done.

And yet, my mind continues to churn.

The soup and bread I stuffed into my shrunken stomach have made me drowsy, and I can’t even rise from my bed.

I shouldn’t have overeaten!

As I muse on this—my thoughts are interrupted.

A knock.

“Miss Maxine, you have a visitor. How would you like to proceed?”

It was the voice of a trusted attendant.

“Let them wait five minutes.”

I lifted myself from the bed and stood.

I straightened myself, ensuring I wouldn’t be rude to the guest.

Then, I opened the door.

“Who is it?”

“It is Duchess Astarte.”

Her.

Anastasia’s dog.

“Did you ask what she wants?”

“She insists on speaking only to the Emperor…”

An assassin?

No, she wouldn’t come all the way to my room just to kill me.

Anastasia must want a peaceful abdication.

“Very well. Let her in.”

“Understood.”

After a few moments, Duchess Astarte appeared in my chamber.

“Greetings, Your Imperial Majesty. It seems I’ve interrupted your nap.”

“It doesn’t matter. Get to the point.”

I coldly dismissed Duchess Astarte’s overly theatrical bow.

“How cold. I thought I was bringing news you’d be pleased with.”

“Is it about abdication? I’ve already made up my mind. I have no interest in debating it. If someone else wants the throne, they can have it.”

I didn’t plan on talking with her for long.

I had no intention of letting her dictate the pace.

“No, no. Quite the opposite. I want you to remain as Emperor, Your Majesty.”

“Oh?”

I responded curtly, though her words piqued my interest slightly.

I locked eyes with her as I spoke.

“What is this? Betraying Anastasia? Betraying Lady Anhalt?”

“Of course not! I would never betray Anastasia. In fact, I’m still trying to convince her to abandon her foolish plot to seize the throne.”

I considered her words.

She wasn’t doing this out of kindness.

There must be some advantage in keeping me on the throne.

It was easy to imagine.

“I see. So you want to drag my family into the war with Mongolia?”

“Exactly. We need you, Your Majesty, to remain as Emperor and lead us in the fight. We need every advantage we can get against Mongolia.”

If I were to rally my family’s forces, I could easily raise an army of thirty thousand.

But don’t be ridiculous.

Who would willingly fight a war they have no chance of winning?

Let the fools do as they wish and die for nothing.

“There’s no chance of victory.”

I stated the cold, hard truth directly.

In response, Duchess Astarte pulled a book from her coat.

“I’d like you to read this.”

“What is it?”

“I think you’ll recognize the name of the author—Martina von Bösel.”

Martina von Bösel?

I hadn’t heard of her as a writer, but as a noble, I recalled her name.

“…Isn’t she the one Duke Temeraire adopted?”

“Indeed.”

Duchess Astarte clapped as if to say, Correct!

It irritated me, but my interest shifted to the book in her hands.

“What could I possibly learn from a book written by a nine-year-old?”

I scoffed insincerely.

If Duke Temeraire saw fit to adopt her, her talents were likely exceptional beyond her years.

“Faust von Polydoro oversaw the editing.”

Her words stirred my curiosity once more.

“I see. Interesting.”

This could be valuable for evaluating Lord Polydoro.

It’s worth reading.

“I’ll read it. But no matter what theories this book contains, we can’t win against Mongolia.”

“The artillery plans outlined in that book will be provided by the Cologne Sect. These aren’t just theories.”

Is that so?

Well, I’ll read it first before passing judgment.

“Even if we could win, it would be a brutal battle with tens of thousands of casualties. And it’s a defensive war. There’s nothing to gain from victory. How do you plan to—wait.”

What am I saying?

I need to regain control of this conversation.

Getting swept into Duchess Astarte’s rhythm is dangerous.

“Leave the book and go. That’s all you came here for, isn’t it?”

“Yes, that’s all.”

Duchess Astarte gave another overly dramatic bow and turned to leave.

“That will be all for now. I’ll return to persuade you again once the situation changes.”

“Very well.”

I nodded in satisfaction and ran my fingers over the cover of the book she had left on the table.

Its title was Guns, Cannons, and Knights.

I sighed and pondered.

Father, mother.

Would you be proud of me?

Would you approve of the path I’m choosing—not to fight for the Empire against outside invaders, but only to preserve our bloodline?

No answer came.

The dead do not speak.

I remained silent for a moment before finally opening the first page of the book.