[The Central Army successfully quells the rebellion led by Duke Barelmud and his allies with minimal losses.]
News of victory spread across the kingdom as swiftly as ever, carried far and wide.
For some, it was to share a joyous announcement; for others, it served as a grim warning and a call for vigilance.
“So, over a dozen noble families raised armies, and they managed to suppress it all in less than two months? Is that even possible?”
“They said the combined forces totaled over 60,000 troops. How could such a massive army be crushed in such a short time?”
“That’s Lord Royten for you. With someone like him, our kingdom remains unshakable.”
The people, as always, were thrilled and awestruck by a story that filled them with pride and excitement.
After all, this was no ordinary rebellion—it involved two ducal houses and a count’s house.
Adding in the smaller noble families recruited by Duke Barelmud, the number of involved houses easily exceeded ten.
Their combined forces amounted to a staggering 64,000 soldiers—on par with the entirety of the northern front’s army in its prime.
Of course, the truth was a bit different: Duke Roengram had been crushed as an example beforehand, and Carolus had deliberately provoked the rebellion.
But for public consumption, the narrative was simpler and more grandiose.
A massive coalition force had been decisively defeated by the Central Army in just two short campaigns.
Effortlessly, as though twisting a child’s wrist.
It was the kind of tale one would expect to hear in folklore or epic theater.
How could people not be in awe?
“But why did they even rebel in the first place?”
“They claimed Lord Royten was oppressing them unfairly, and they were just trying to survive.”
“Hah! What nonsense. They start a war and then cry about injustice? Give me a break.”
“When have the nobles ever behaved differently? At this point, it’s not even surprising.”
By now, Carolus and his faction had been tirelessly spreading the truth about the war with the Empire.
Not only the capital but even most of the provinces knew about the crown prince’s incompetence and the blunders of his inner circle.
And, of course, they were well aware of the hypocrisy and greed the nobility had displayed in their attempts to cover for him.
Everyone now clearly understood why their precious sons had been dragged to the battlefield and their valuable livestock requisitioned.
Could there possibly be any sympathy for the nobles?
Absolutely not.
“I wonder how they’ll deal with the ringleaders.”
“They’ve been taken to the capital, so I’m sure there’ll be a trial. Then they’ll burn them or something.”
“What was it called? That method they use in the western countries? They say they cut people into thousands of pieces during executions there.”
For a populace that had been deceived for ten years by such scum, the idea of burning them alive was practically cathartic.
And since the Central Army had taken up the task of avenging the people’s grievances, there was no opposition or criticism to be found across the kingdom.
In fact, many lamented not having joined the Central Army sooner to exact their own vengeance.
“That Royten… a monster through and through. Now he’s cleaning up the regional powers, isn’t he?”
“He wiped out two ducal houses in one sweep. This is clearly a warning to anyone thinking of stepping out of line.”
“Given his background and stance, it’s unlikely he’ll be interested in compromises….”
Among the noble class, however, the mood was funereal—both metaphorically and literally.
Not only had their relatives in the capital been publicly executed, but they were now reeling from the blow of losing two of the kingdom’s most powerful houses.
Those families alone held territories that, combined, rivaled the size of a small kingdom.
Now, their lands were uprooted entirely.
What’s more, the confiscated territories were set to be incorporated into royal domains.
The nobles understood exactly what this meant.
In fact, they understood it too well.
This wasn’t just punishment—it was part of a deliberate strategy.
Carolus intended to strip them of their power entirely.
Using the powerless royal family as a figurehead, he would centralize all territories under the crown’s control.
It was clear to everyone: Carolus planned to ensure no regional force would have the strength to oppose his regime.
“It seems it would be wise for everyone to keep their heads down for the time being—for the sake of your families and yourselves.”
“Ugh, how did it come to this?”
“We should’ve killed Carolus when we had the chance. If we’d acted sooner, we wouldn’t be dealing with this mess now.”
But no matter how much they grumbled, there wasn’t any practical solution available.
In the end, the nobles quietly bowed their heads and chose to go along with the prevailing tide, clinging to the hope that someday an opportunity for a grand comeback might arise.
Whether that hope had any basis in reality was a matter they chose to ignore for now.
By the time Carolus and the Central Army returned to the capital, this tense atmosphere had reached its peak.
“Waaaahhh!!!”
“Royten! Royten! Royten!”
“Long live the Vice-Chairman of the Supreme Council! Long live the Revolutionary Army! Long liiiiive!!!”
“Mom, when I grow up, I want to be like Lord Royten!”
As we dragged our battle-weary bodies through the city gates, the thunderous cheers from the crowd erupted around us.
Above, flower petals rained down, and the sound of fireworks mingled with joyous cries, forming a celebratory symphony.
The endless applause and palpable energy of the crowd seemed to celebrate the soldiers’ efforts, filling them with pride and a sense of accomplishment.
“What a commotion.”
“Isn’t this a bit much? It was a civil war, after all.”
My subordinates grumbled, pretending to be concerned, but their grins betrayed their true feelings.
After being stuck in the frozen north for so long, they were practically starved for recognition and glory.
Up there, no matter how hard you fought—or even if you died—praise and gratitude were rare luxuries.
“From their perspective, it’s like we defeated an enemy army. We smashed a bunch of bastards they hated—of course they’re happy.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
“Don’t overthink it. Just enjoy the moment. They’re celebrating us, so there’s no need to waste time getting all serious about it.”
“Understood, sir!”
I waved at the crowd, accepting garlands and bouquets with a smile, playing along with the cheers as we marched forward.
Eventually, the crowds thinned, and we made our way into the city center where government buildings stood.
In front of the grand palace at the heart of it all, familiar faces awaited us.
There was my older brother, Julius, along with Major General Kys, General Albrecht, and the cardinal overseeing the capital’s archdiocese.
And finally.
“Your Grace!”
“Whoa—”
Camilla, who ran straight into my arms.
“It’s been a while, My Lady.”
“I’ve been waiting for you. Are you hurt anywhere?”
“Thanks to your concern, I’m fine.”
Her affection was becoming increasingly bold.
Ever since we spent the night together, she had no hesitation about showing her feelings, even in public.
“Wow, isn’t that a bit too blatant?”
“Sir, let us know when the wedding date is set. I’ll make sure to show up in my sharpest uniform.”
“We haven’t even had the family introductions yet, so shut your traps, all of you.”
Of course, I intended to take responsibility, but there hadn’t been any time to prepare.
Once the war was over and things calmed down, then I’d tackle everything properly.
“Did anything happen while I was gone?”
“Not much, sir. As for the tasks you assigned before leaving, I’ll give you a full report later. For now, you need to rest.”
Unable to resist Camilla tugging at my arm, I relented and gave the order to disperse. I told everyone to go rest for the night and reconvene tomorrow.
With that, the group scattered to their various destinations.
Some headed to the barracks, others to their tents or a nearby tavern.
As for me? I ended up at the house Camilla now called her own.
*****
I imagine plenty of people would want detailed descriptions of what happened next, but let me cut to the chase.
We spent the night consumed by passion.
In other words, we went at it. And this time, unlike before, neither of us was drunk—we were fully conscious.
Since it was the first time for both of us to properly do things, we were awkward at first.
There were plenty of fumbles and missteps.
But once the spark was lit, there was no stopping. We drove each other to exhaustion, fueled by excitement until we couldn’t move anymore.
By dawn the next day, thoroughly drained and now in post-bliss clarity, I lay on the bed listening to Camilla give her status report.
“The recovery efforts are going smoothly. Though, with so many vacancies, finding replacements is proving difficult. The lack of administrative manpower is a serious issue.”
“But isn’t it easy to recruit educated professionals in the capital? Surely, there are plenty of competent people.”
“Most of the outsiders lack practical experience. We need people who can jump straight into the job, and we don’t have time to train them.”
“Ah, if that’s the case, I suppose there’s no helping it.”
“So, we’re promoting existing staff and shuffling roles around to make do. For new hires, we’re mainly focusing on entry-level positions.”
Camilla shrugged, adding that in another two months or so, about half of the administrative functions would likely be restored.
It wouldn’t be a full recovery, of course, but at least the framework would be back in place. And honestly, even that was an accomplishment given the circumstances.
“Better than nothing,” I muttered, watching the faint morning light filter through the window.
“The examination-based civil service system, right? That’s in the works as well. Without any nobles opposing it, it’s pretty straightforward—just draft the plan and get it passed.”
“What kind of subjects will the test cover?”
“For now, it’ll include mathematics, language, and philosophy. As for administrative work, we can train the recruits once they’re hired.”
The initiative to curb cronyism and nepotism was moving forward.
It wasn’t as structured as the modern South Korean civil service exam, but it was a solid start.
At the very least, it would ensure that candidates possessed basic intellectual competence.
No more clueless fools in managerial positions who couldn’t even read a statistical chart.
“What about the captured nobles? What’s the plan for them?”
“Execution. Soon.”
With domestic matters under control, it would soon be time to finalize the peace treaty with the Empire.
We’d likely concede a few minor points, but nothing that would result in a major loss.
Once the prolonged war ended, I’d mark the occasion by executing the traitors.
A mass execution event would be quite the spectacle, especially if a few more dangerous noble families were dealt with beforehand.
I idly wondered how King Carl VII would react if he were to witness it.
But my musings were interrupted.
–Knock knock.
“Your grace, are you inside?”
An unexpected guest had arrived.
“What is it?”
“A visitor from the Intelligence Department is here. They say it’s urgent—apparently, the King has fled.”
…What the hell?