Chapter 67: Brothers

Marib pulled the bowstring as tight as possible, pressing it against his body. Although he could feel the wind, he didn’t pay much attention as he shot the arrow, for he wasn’t aiming to hunt an animal.

Swish!

The arrow, tracing a curve, hit an unintended spot and fell. The deer, startled, fled far away, and the ministers watching from the side let out regretful laughs.

“Oh, what a pity.”

“Indeed. It’s unfortunate the wind is blowing.”

“Well, then, Lord Darenchio is currently in first place.”

“Your Highness, let me give it a try.”

This was an informal event held once a month, where the royal family, key ministers, and a few nobles gathered under the guise of fostering camaraderie, but in reality, it was a tedious yet important extension of politics.

“By the way, where is Lord Gael today?”

Marib, who was about to draw his bow, hesitated. The fact that he and Gael didn’t get along was known even to the lowliest slaves in the palace. Yet, someone had casually mentioned his name.

A few ministers subtly checked the First Prince’s reaction, but Marib calmly replied, “Indeed. I wonder what could be keeping him so busy.”

There was one peculiar point. After the appointment as lord was overturned and Mollin moved to the border, Gael had been strangely absent from Marib’s presence. There were no particular rumors, and from his father’s hints, it seemed Gael was visiting the border frequently.

It meant that Gael was deliberately avoiding Marib.

The minister, unaware of Marib’s furrowed brow, continued to draw his bow, muttering, “His Majesty hasn’t attended due to his worsening health, which is quite a pity.”

“…Is it a pity?”

“Well, of course. In the past, when you were all young, it was so lively and enjoyable. You often missed your prey due to the commotion…”

Swish!

Just as he was about to release the bowstring, an arrow suddenly shot out from the side. Marib had fired it carelessly, and another deer fled into the distance.

“Like this?”

“Your Highness?”

“I’m disappointed too. It seems you’re not satisfied with my performance. Perhaps my hunting skills are just that bad.”

“Oh, no, no. That’s not it at all. Absolutely not.”

The minister, sweating profusely in protest, tried to deny it, but Marib just smiled and turned away.

“Continue. I need to rest a bit.”

“Yes, yes, Your Highness.”

Marib left, taking off his gloves, while the ministers subtly scolded the one who had made the mistake and urged him to pick up his bow.

Under the tent, Marib rubbed his temples, looking tired.

“Are you alright?”

He hadn’t slept for several days due to the accumulated work. It was natural that he was exhausted after coming out to shoot arrows in such a state. His advisor, pouring him some cool water, checked on him.

“A message has arrived from the border.”

“From Romandro?”

“It seems to be a gift for you, Your Highness.”

Marib looked at his advisor with curiosity. After going to the border, Romandro must have gone mad. Gula, a poisonous weed that grows in dirty places, was hardly suitable for solving a famine.

But could it really solve the famine?

Suddenly, he felt a wave of fatigue.

“He must have gone mad.”

“I thought the same at first, but the details are quite intriguing. Gula’s seeds are edible. They taste better than expected and provide a good sense of fullness. It seems a lot of research has already been done on cooking it.”

Despite his reservations, Marib couldn’t help but tap his fingers on the table. His advisor quickly handed him the letter.

“Cultivation methods? Ha! What’s the difference between cultivating a weed and this?”

“The cultivation period is only one month, and from one seed, over ten more can grow. It doesn’t even require specific soil or water conditions.”

Marib read Romandro’s report carefully.

Indeed, if what was written was true, solving the famine might not be impossible. The conditions were as good as any existing famine-relief crop.

But the thought of Gula made him feel dirty. How could he eat it?

“What’s next? Is that all? It’s a rather poor gift.”

“And…,” the advisor bowed deeply and lowered his voice even more, “a recommendation letter for Ian to be the next lord, and…”

A criminal’s lineage, but if he was a mana user, it didn’t matter much. In fact, he should be gently persuaded to stay and not run away. It seemed Ian had gained the trust of Romandro and the people of the fief, and with the recommendation letter, there would be no problem.

The real issue for Marib was…

“Mollin’s ring is enclosed.”

“What?”

His voice was louder than intended, and one of the ministers standing far away glanced over. Marib pulled the tent curtain shut and asked in surprise.

“Mollin’s ring?”

“Yes. According to Romandro, Mollin tried to kill Ian. His subordinate, Petreio, led a group of mercenaries in an attack, but it failed. They are all currently detained.”

As Marib listened to his advisor, he flipped to the next page of the report. A luxurious ring lay on the table, and he soon confirmed the inscription inside that proved it belonged to Mollin’s family.

“He says it’s for you to deal with.”

“Huh.”

Marib felt his mind becoming clearer. He had thought about it when Mollin brought in the Tianli clan. His actions were quite useful.

‘He realized that his connection to Mollin would be a hindrance to being recommended as a lord.’

And he showed it through his actions. By proving he had no ties to Mollin, or more precisely, to Gael, he was asking to be made a lord with peace of mind. There could be no clearer plea.

Marib’s fingertips tapped the table rapidly.

Tap tap.

“Your Highness?”

“Does Ian have any remaining family?”

“I don’t think so.”

His mother was alive, but she had disappeared before the battle began.

“Write a letter. If he’s a mana user, it would be easier for him to come to the capital. I want to know what he plans to do.”

Primarily, it was important that Brats not fall into Gael’s hands, but from Ian’s actions, it seemed he could achieve more.

‘This is perfect. He would be useful in the Magic Department.’

There were few mages, and because of their strong cohesion, most were under Gael’s command.

Marib felt like he had received a gift, as his advisor had said. He stood up, feeling good, and picked up his bow again. To proceed with the lord appointment, the emperor’s approval was essential, but the continuous requests from the ministers would certainly influence him.

“Did you catch anything?”

“Oh, Your Highness. The deer are particularly cautious today.”

Just as Marib smiled and picked up his bow,

Swish-!

An arrow with a long tail flew past his side. It was so quick that only the black cloth tied to the arrow remained as a trace. Unlike the startled ministers, Marib’s face hardened as he turned around.

“Gael.”

Black hair and eyes that seemed to hold the sky, sharp and long. His arrogant demeanor was as usual.

Gael, on horseback, showed his bow.

“I’m sorry, Brother. I was in a hurry.”

“…Your skills have really deteriorated.”

“But it hit the mark, didn’t it?”

Marib followed Gael’s gaze and turned his head. A deer with a precise arrow through its neck lay on the ground. The black cloth tied to the arrow fluttered in the wind.

Gael approached the ministers, nodding naturally and greeting them.

“I’m sorry for being late. I was busy.”

“No, no, Your Highness. It’s been a while since we’ve seen you.”

“Are you well?”

Gael greeted the ministers with a nod. If it weren’t for the heterochromia he inherited from the emperor, no one would have believed they shared blood.

“Brother, are you upset that I caught something?”

Gael raised his eyebrows and put on a sly smile. The ministers, who always worried about the two of them, stepped back nervously.

“Now, let’s, um, have a drink.”

“Shall we? Brother, it’s hot. Yes, the day is hot.”

“Your Highness, take a break.”

“Hey! Fill the quiver.”

Leaving the noisy old men behind, Marib smiled gently. From the looks of it, Gael had a reason to be here. It would have been hard to guess otherwise, but Marib had just read the letter from Brats.

“So, even in your busy schedule, you came here. Should I thank you, Brother?”

“Am I as busy as you? With state affairs and all, you must be very busy, yet you still attend these trivial hunting gatherings…”

As the legitimate heir and official successor, Marib had the most work in the palace. It had become even worse since the emperor fell ill.

Gael glanced at a minister laughing foolishly in the back and continued.

“Especially, you’re paying so much attention to the border. If you collapse from overwork, no one would be surprised.”

“But everyone will be surprised that you’re showing interest in that area lately.”

“Do you continue to receive reports from your advisors?”

“Is there a reason I should know?”

Gael slowly scanned Marib’s face.

At some point, Mollin’s reports had stopped. But from what he could tell, Romandro’s reports were still coming in. Something must have happened in the Brats fief.

Marib smiled and warned Gael.

“I don’t know what you’re up to, but…”

Gael chuckled inwardly. He had noticed Marib’s suspicions since he suddenly attended the meeting and caused trouble.

“You should stop being interested in the Brats fief. A recommendation letter for the next lord has been submitted. I have no objections, so I plan to proceed quickly.”

Gael’s face crumpled. In contrast, Marib smiled brightly and pulled the bowstring taut. The arrow, tracing a smooth curve, pierced the neck of a dead animal.

“Like this?”