“You’re saying Lord Ian is buying large quantities of a weed called Levior?”
“Yes. His warehouses are already full, and he’s even building additional ones to store more.”
News of Ian’s eccentric behaviour had reached Duke Endran.
“Does the Adoran Merchant Group know why?”
“They claim they don’t. Even the master of the company is following Lord Ian’s orders, but he seems deeply troubled by it.”
Of course, if even he couldn’t figure out Ian’s reasoning, how could they?
“Does Levior have some beneficial property?”
“Not that we know of. The only thing we’ve confirmed is that Lord Ian has been teaching his household how to cook with it.”
“And people actually eat it?”
“Yes, apparently there’s a method. But according to those who’ve tried it, the taste is so revolting that it’s practically inedible. Because of this, rumors have spread that Lord Ian enjoys bizarre cuisine.”
Duke Endran fell into thought.
‘If he were just indulging in strange tastes, he wouldn’t need to stockpile such massive quantities.’
No single person would require that much.
Filling warehouses to the brim—even building more—was beyond rational explanation.
Reports of Ian’s eccentricities had been circulating for some time now.
Though their last meeting had left him somewhat disappointed, Ian’s actions always had a clear purpose.
Whether it was his fervent push for uncharted territory exploration (despite uncertain success) or his absurdly efficient weapon production (which greatly aided in territorial wars), everything Ian did was meticulously prepared.
‘Is this another one of his preparations?’
The duke crossed his arms, deep in thought.
But no matter how much he pondered, he couldn’t grasp why Ian was hoarding Levior.
Still, he had a strong feeling that Ian was planning something.
“Father.”
Before the report had arrived, Viola, who had been sipping tea with him, spoke up.
“Yes, what is it?”
“What if we also gather this Levior weed? Looking back, Lord Ian has always acted with purpose. No matter how I think about it, this seems no different.”
She shared his suspicions.
But honestly, he couldn’t shake a slight unease.
After all, it was just a weed.
Did they really need to stockpile it in warehouses?
‘But if even Viola thinks this way…’
Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to try.
Viola’s instincts were rarely wrong.
“Very well. Let’s do that. We’ll soon find out what he’s scheming. Advisor, gather as much Levior as possible and store it in our warehouses.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Most farmers had likely already uprooted and burned it before planting season, so supplies would be limited.
But it was a common roadside weed.
‘If it comes to nothing, we can always sell it all to Schrantz for some petty war funds.’
At worst, they could offload it to the trading company or use it as insect repellent for soldiers during summer.
For the duke, the looming civil war mattered far more than this oddity.
The key point was—there was little to lose.
“Your Grace!”
A soldier rushed in urgently, bearing the insignia of a frontline messenger.
“What is it?”
“Great news! The Third Prince and the imperial family have safely arrived in our territory!”
The duke’s face lit up instantly.
“Which members of the imperial family are present?”
“Her Majesty the Empress, the imperial princesses, and even His Majesty the Emperor—all have arrived!”
“Excellent!”
Duke Endran was overjoyed.
He hadn’t dared hope they could retrieve every member of the imperial family unscathed.
At worst, he had expected to abandon the empress and princesses—securing only the Third Prince and the Emperor.
Years of preparation had paid off.
“Advisor, make immediate arrangements for His Majesty, the Empress, and the princesses to rest comfortably.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Quickly.”
As the advisor hurried off, the duke couldn’t suppress his smile—everything was falling into place.
“Your Grace, there is one more matter to report.”
“What is it?”
The messenger hesitated slightly.
Though the duke was in high spirits, the next news was far from pleasant.
“This… is less favorable.”
“Speak.”
The messenger braced himself, certain his words would sour the duke’s mood.
But duty demanded he continue.
“The House of Eaton has begun mobilizing. Signs of invasion have been spotted across multiple fronts.”
“Is that so?”
Contrary to expectations, the duke showed no irritation.
In fact, his expression didn’t change at all.
He had anticipated this.
‘They’re no fools. They would’ve realized the imperial family had fled to my lands.’
Though the extraction had been successful, the disappearance of the entire imperial family (except the Second Prince) was impossible to hide.
Everyone would deduce that the Third Prince had taken them somewhere—and tracking would inevitably lead here.
For the Second Prince, this was a slap in the face.
The imperial family siding with Duke Endran was the same as to outright rejecting his claim.
“Prepare for war. We will crush the rebels.”
With both legitimacy and righteousness on his side, the duke no longer had reason to hesitate.
They were the ones drawing blades against the imperial-backed faction.
At last, the grand design he had longed for was complete.
Thud! Crack!
“Ughhh~!”
Ian stretched his arms upward and his legs downward while still seated, letting out a satisfying groan.
He’d been sitting for so long that the sound of his joints popping echoed around the room.
Not satisfied with just that, he stood up and shook out his limbs, loosening his stiff muscles.
“Phew, finally done. What kind of work takes months to finish?”
Ian had been forced to take over the duties of corrupt officials who’d been arrested.
With so many administrators detained, the workload had piled up to the point where even he had to step in.
At first, the sheer volume of tasks gave him a headache, but time eventually sorted things out.
By actively recruiting literate locals and receiving dispatched officials from Rosen, he managed to ease the burden.
Of course, most of the existing officials were undergoing rehabilitation programs, so he still had to put effort into training the new hires.
But thanks to that time and effort, the new recruits gradually became more skilled and quickly adapted to their roles.
Now that they were fully handling their duties, work was finally flowing smoothly.
And today, at last, he’d managed to wrap up the backlog.
“Now, what’s left…?”
Ian turned his gaze and reached out.
His eyes landed on a few documents set aside on the corner of his desk.
They were reports on events outside the Schrantz County borders—intelligence gathered by diligent agents.
Even while buried in work, he’d made sure to keep up with the civil war’s progress.
Picking up the reports, Ian read through them slowly, like flipping through a newspaper.
“So the Duke of Endran and the Duke of Eaton are still in a stalemate?”
The two great houses had finally clashed.
A massive battle involving a combined force of 10,000 soldiers had resulted in heavy casualties, leaving the Duke of Eaton’s forces too battered to advance further.
But the Duke of Endran didn’t have the strength to counterattack either—his losses were far from negligible.
The Duke of Eaton, desperate to reclaim the imperial family, had launched a full-scale offensive from the start, leading to a larger battle than anticipated.
While the northern front had settled into a stalemate due to heavy losses, the western and southern regions saw multiple skirmishes daily.
“The west and south are just getting started.”
The false peace had shattered as the empire’s two most powerful houses collided, igniting the nation in flames.
The empire was now split between the Second Prince in the southeast and the Third Prince in the northwest.
The densely populated western and southern regions would inevitably bear the brunt of the casualties.
Already, each region had suffered tens of thousands of losses—enough said.
“By the time this war ends, combat casualties alone will exceed 30,000.”
And that was just the west and south.
Across the entire empire, the toll would likely reach 40,000 to 50,000.
Over half of the civil war’s deaths would come from those fronts.
But Ian wasn’t particularly concerned.
Had the battles been raging in Schrantz, he’d have been alarmed—but the fiercest fighting was happening far away.
Months away by carriage, in fact.
To him, it was just news from someone else’s backyard.
Of course, the war’s effects had inevitably reached Schrantz, whether he liked it or not.
Flipping the page, Ian muttered,
“Deserters turning into bandits and drifting into our territory again. They reached Nase, but it looks like they were dealt with.”
Still, he wasn’t worried.
He’d prepared for this exact scenario before moving here.
In fact, the veteran soldiers from Nase—who’d gained real combat experience during the undead outbreak—had proven invaluable.
Nase, once considered Schrantz’s weak link, was no longer the same ragtag militia it used to be.
It was now a gathering of seasoned fighters who could hold their own.
“Even if I hadn’t prepared, Father and Hubert would’ve had their own contingencies.”
Hugo and Hubert had put their heads together in Rosen, making their own preparations.
As long as things proceeded according to plan, Ian didn’t need to intervene deeply—they’d handle the rest.
“Ah, so convenient! Normally, this would’ve been a headache.”
Had he been the heir or lord, he’d have had to manage everything himself.
The one benefit of the original Ian being a troublemaker was that he’d been pushed out of the succession—sparing him the bureaucratic nightmares.
Of course, that same reputation had made his early days hell, but still.
Right now, he was reaping the rewards.
“It’s about time things start moving…”
While relieved to see events unfolding as he’d expected, Ian was waiting for one particular piece of news.
Knock knock.
Someone knocked on the office door.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me. May I come in?”
“Enter.”
Recognizing Nea’s voice, Ian immediately granted permission.
She stepped inside, quietly closing the door before approaching him.
Despite her work as a personal maid, her hands remained delicate—and in them, she held a single sheet of paper.
“What is it?”
“News has arrived from the western and southern fronts.”
Ian’s eyes gleamed.
He already knew, instinctively, what this was about.
“Nea. I have a job for you. Let’s spread a rumor.”
“A rumor? What kind?”
“That there’s a plant—disgusting in taste, but usable as emergency food.”
Ian grinned.
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