"When can we expect a definitive answer?"
"W-well, we need to look into it first."
"Then look into it now. The Grand Duke stated that if a proper answer is not received, the North will do everything in its power."
Jackson's posture was unyielding. Roy stood directly at his side. The Chief Minister's expression showed nothing but bewilderment. This was not a matter he could handle carelessly, and one misstep could leave him bearing the consequences — and the way one bore consequences for matters like this ultimately came down to one's life.
"W-well, if you would step back and wait, we will give you an answer..."
"So how long exactly should we wait?"
"That is uncertain."
"Then we have no choice but to stay here until it becomes certain."
Jackson sat down where he stood. Roy remained on his feet, though his eyes swept the room. The guards hesitated, uncertain what to do with these two men. Had they been ordinary upstarts, driving them out would have been no trouble at all — but Roy's bearing was unmistakably that of a northern general.
A head taller than any man in the room. White beard. Faint scars etched across his face. He carried no sword, yet his presence made clear that anyone who approached would not walk away unscathed.
"This is not permitted. T-this place is where the Imperial Palace receives guests and conducts affairs of state — how dare you behave with such insolence!"
"Then just hand over the money and send us on our way. Why make us wait like this?"
"Country bumpkins with no manners whatsoever. Seize them!"
"Ha! Manners are kept between those who deserve them from each other — you witless fool."
The Chief Minister's face was turning scarlet at Roy's mockery. He ordered the guards to drag those country bumpkins out at once. It was no longer Jackson's turn to fight with words — it was Roy's turn to fight with his body. The Grand Duke had known this too. Showing anger in this place was, in effect, tantamount to treason.
The Imperial Palace was a place where even an ambiguous turn of phrase could be twisted into grounds for rebellion.
"B-break their legs if you have to!"
The guards came rushing in one by one. Roy seized the first to arrive by the scruff of the neck and locked him in a contest of strength. When a second soldier charged from behind, Roy kept his grip on the first man's collar and swept his legs out from under him. The first guard went down, and the one behind him stumbled back a step.
The armor made it nearly impossible to get back up. Roy, who had been locked in a tense standoff with the guards, made the first move. Just as before, he wrapped a hand around the back of a man's neck and hurled the armored soldier to the floor.
Two soldiers lay flailing on the ground. Roy's strategy was simple: take them down. Drawing a blade would put him at a disadvantage, but a soldier in heavy plate armor, the moment he fell, could not easily rise again. The guards had been dressed up like some sort of display of intimidation, but plate armor was something you wore in battle.
It had no place in a setting like this, and once a man in full plate went down, getting back up on his own was nearly impossible. The North had never favored such armor — it was the sort of thing only heavy cavalry wore at most.
"That's armor from decades ago. How do you expect to get up in that?"
"W-what are you all doing! Get them out of here at once!"
Jackson sat watching Roy from his seat, doing nothing more — but his head never once bowed. The guards charged again, this time all at once. Yet none of them reached Jackson. Roy sidestepped the first man to rush him, hooked his foot, and sent him crashing to the floor.
They looked unaccustomed to actual fighting.
"You need to cut off all directions — don't you know even that? How do you expect to guard anything?"
Under Roy's thundering rebuke, the guards began slowly encircling them. There was no longer any need to rush in all at once. The plate armor would take no damage regardless of what was done to it. They could simply close in like this, slowly tightening the ring.
Jackson watched on, seated, as though none of it concerned him.
His judgment was that any outcome here would be to their advantage. It would serve them well if the Emperor simply turned the North's demands away at the door — and it would serve them equally well if they actually walked out with the money. But there was one outcome that was not good: being made to wait indefinitely. He was confident they would not lose a battle of endurance, but the longer things dragged on, the more likely the matter would dissolve into nothing.
There was one condition that had to hold above all else: they must not leave of their own accord.
"You enjoy a good brawl, do you? What kind of soldiers can't even handle one old man!"
While Jackson was steeling his resolve, Roy was busy hurling guards in every direction. His lip had split at some point, and blood was running from his nose, but Roy showed no sign of retreating. His strength had fallen from what it had been at the start, certainly — but he was still holding.
"Is there some problem here."
A single sentence. The guards began stepping back from their positions. A gaunt frame. Clothes draped loosely over his shoulders. Hair hanging loose, a man surrounded by people. As though it were the most natural thing in the world, the gaunt man settled into the Emperor's chair. The Emperor of the South.
"It was rather loud, so I came to see. What is the matter here."
"T-that is, Your Majesty..."
The Chief Minister prostrated himself. The guards returned to their posts. The fallen guards managed to haul themselves upright as well. With the Emperor present, Jackson and Roy had no choice but to kneel. The Emperor's arrival was slightly outside what they had anticipated, but only slightly.
"The Grand Duke of the North has sent a letter, Your Majesty."
"From that place? What does it say."
"P-please read it your..."
The Chief Minister unrolled the scroll again at the Emperor's glance — the look of a man who would not be bothered to do anything himself. The Chief Minister slowly read aloud the words written on the scroll. Jackson watched the Emperor's expression, stealing careful glances, but could not read what lay behind it. What was certain, however, was his conviction that this man had more days left to die than to live.
"Mm. And so what is it that you want from Us?"
"Your Majesty, we have come only to convey the Grand Duke's words. Furthermore, what is desired is written there in full."
"Is there reason for Us to examine it?"
The Emperor had not a single thought in his head about any of it. Roy, too, found the man's attitude disagreeable, but could not speak rashly. This was outside what he had expected. In that case, there was nothing for it but to be direct.
"Your Majesty. The North is a place where people continue to die fighting the nomads. We have held on until now without any support from the South."
"You have worked hard."
At the Emperor's reply, those around him bowed their heads. The only ones who failed to understand this were the men who had come from the North. This was not a matter to be settled with words.
"Therefore, we ask only for the subsidies and provisions stipulated by Imperial law."
"And if We say that cannot be done?"
"We have brought the Grand Duke's answer to that very question."
Roy rose from his knees. The Grand Duke would likely have told him not to — but he wanted to do his utmost to convey the Grand Duke's fury. Courage in the face of death. That was how Roy de Wintergard had survived. Though perhaps this was not quite that moment.
"He said to choose one of two options. The first: the North's gates will be thrown wide open."
It meant they would no longer hold back the nomadic tribes descending from the North. The standing they had maintained until now could be stripped away. But everyone knew that if the nomads began moving south, the Empire would fall.
"Even should the nomads ravage the Empire, the North will not stir."
"T-to speak such insolent words..."
The Chief Minister moved to cut him off, but the Emperor raised a hand. Roy continued.
"The second: the Grand Duke comes here himself."
"Then tell him to come himself."
"I believe there is a misunderstanding, Your Majesty. Under Imperial law, there is only one circumstance in which the Grand Duke may come here in person."
The Grand Duke of the North could command his armies freely against threats to the north. But when sending armies southward, he could only do so through a proxy commander. There was, however, one single exception — one case in which he could personally lead a campaign south: the suppression of internal rebellion.
"Are you saying he intends to commit treason."
The Emperor showed not the slightest anger. To come south from the North, one had to cross the mountain range. And the Corridor had long been left unattended — deliberately so, in part, since it was also a route by which the nomads could descend.
"Not treason, Your Majesty — only claiming what is rightfully owed."
"We know what you are after."
There was nothing left to fear. Jackson rose to his feet as well. There was no need to state their true purpose here. The Emperor might already have guessed it.
"In any case, you are busy enough dealing with the nomads — and leaving your post and coming here amount to the same thing, do they not."
"That is, in truth, correct, Your Majesty."
The Emperor had no intention of signing the invoice the North had sent. Having no intention of paying, he would want to settle things with something hollow and ceremonial.
"We will look into the matter, so take note of that."
"That we cannot accept, Your Majesty. We were ordered to bring back a definitive answer."
Murmurs rippled through the room. There was no one who could contradict the Emperor's words — whoever they might be. Yet Roy's posture as he spoke remained perfectly straight.
"It seems you were ordered to die, then. Very well. The money cannot be given."
"Then we will take note of that, Your Majesty."
"In its place, We will give you something else to serve that purpose. However, as this requires further examination, you are dismissed."
Roy and Jackson exchanged a brief glance.
This was enough.