On the next day, the diplomatic corps was once again on the road after packing up.
As with yesterday, old Basil took the carriage.
They weren’t far from Lancaster, and would reach the city latest by the evening.
And being the key player of the diplomatic corps, it was most important for Basil to consider how he would be behaving around the mayor of Lancaster.
Should he be distant immediately, setting boundaries as if it was all business and nothing personal, or feign warmth to sedate him so as to measure his depth?
Both ideas were immediately tossed aside the moment they appeared in old Basil’s mind.
Direct aloofness, or indeed hostility was definitely a no-go.
While the new emperor would definitely be looking to make an example of someone, should his imperial majesty decided not to choose Lancaster, Basil’s behavior would cause Lancaster’s mayor to misunderstand that he was going to be made an example as well. Although that was not incorrect to a certain extent, now wasn’t the time for it yet, because driving Lancaster to become a hostile faction could corner the new emperor’s military with enemies coming at them from every other direction.
No matter who wins then, old Basil was not going to escape judgment.
That being said, feigning friendliness wasn’t a good idea either. Aside from protecting him, Basil’s imperial military escort were actually his imperial majesty’s loyal eyes. Despite being all brawn and no brain, they were not likely to believe Basil even if he claimed that he was merely acting polite with Lancaster’s mayor, and they would surely spice up the tale when informing the new emperor.
And though it was likely that the new emperor could see through Basil’s intentions, Basil wouldn’t want to be categorized as a potential rogue-others might not be aware, but old Basil had long since sensed that the new emperor was bent on clearing away every unstable element in the Valla Empire.
That naturally includes heirs to duchies divided from the empire itself back in its founding days, nobles who could threaten the imperial family, disobedient lords, old Tierra ministers and the like…
And since the Lancaster mayor fits both of the latter two traits, and since Lancaster was a city of trade coveted even by the imperial family, he was assuredly a target to be removed-it was just that it wasn’t known how far down the cleaning list he was.
And being able to survive to such an old age beneath his liege, Basil was as slippery as he was quick-witted—which was why he wouldn’t want anything to do with the soon-to-be rebels.
“If Sir Monan is right and the Lancaster city watch doesn’t have any strong warriors, I could have the knights assert their power in the city. Afterwards, a little warmth from me would be enough to make a strong impression.” Basil muttered to himself.
But before old Basil could come up with any better solutions, he suddenly felt his carriage coming to a stop.
“We’ve arrived?” Old Basil asked, parting the curtains while changing the look on his face. “But it doesn’t look like there’s a city ahead.”
“My lord, there is someone stopping us,” Monan said, steering his chocobo near the carriage.
He sounded perplexed.
Still, the old man didn’t think too much about it and opened the front door of the carriage to see who it was.
The figure was tall but not exactly huge, and he was standing in the middle of the road as if in a standoff against the imperial knights.
His clothing was extremely crude as well, although one could also discern the distinctly pronounced muscles beneath the old rags.
Somehow, neither his taste of fashion or the very obvious single-edged sword that was longer than most other swords were most noticeable.
Instead, it was the thing he was wearing above his neck: a pink flatfish head mask.
Its tail was dangling, while both its dead-fish eyes that were only placed on a single side was staring at everyone present with a gaze of unmatched purity.
On a single glance, it would look as if a flatfish had swallowed off the person’s head.
“Who are you!?” Basil shouted at him with great vigor over ten meters away.
“Just someone passing by… oh, that’s not it. I’m sent here from Lancaster to receive the empire’s diplomatic corps.”
The pink flatfish answered earnestly.
***
Despite those words being absolutely normal, the silly appearance of having a flatfish head mask was so unreal that anyone would be forgiven for thinking that the man was joking.
In fact, old Basil had even adjusted his opinion regarding the Lancaster mayor from ‘a smart person wisely choosing to defect and retaining partial powers despite the pressure of a huge army force’ into la possible imbecile, whom the former emperor didn’t want to conquer in regards to maintaining his dignity’…
Naturally, Basil promptly threw away those thoughts as well.
Imbeciles could never manage a city with such am iron grip that kept the imperial capital at bay, and to the point that they felt as if they couldn’t interfere with Lancaster at all. Even the baron whom they forced on the city and almost lost all face in the process had died under mysterious circumstances in the slums —that was why important figures in the imperial capital were troubled too, and could do nothing more than to bribe some unimportant nobles in Lancaster so as to slowly eat their way inside the city’s internal structure.
And with that being the case, there was only one reason the flatfish man was being sent here: provocation.
A brief look of understanding flashed in old Basil’s eyes.
‘So that is it. They are intending to be heavy-handed to test my reaction, thereby uncovering the new emperor’s intentions?
‘A wonderful play! If it had been another inexperienced envoy, they might well have been left perplexed by such a brainless situation and get led by the nose, and become very vulnerable when they finally reach Lancaster.
‘It’s a pity little old me saw through it!’
Old Basil stroked his beard and quietly whispered to Sir Monan beside him. “Is that the brat from the McCobley family whom you mentioned before?”
“Absolutely not. That young man has the pride of a knight and wouldn’t wear such a funny hat…” Monan said, the corner of his eye twitching even as he stared at the flatfish’s tails and fins which kept flipping without end. “This is a dishonor towards the opponent!”
“Very well.”
The old man made up his mind, cleared his throat and spoke loudly. “Sir, there is no proof backing your claims, which means it is unreasonable for you to have us follow you. Be that as it may, I have heard that the soldiers of Lancaster are extraordinary-why not prove your words by having a spar or two with my man here?”
The old man assumed that their reception would refuse since the soldiers of Lancaster were definitely quite weak, and that accepting the challenge would be handing his diplomatic corps the initiative.
He naturally didn’t expect that the pink flatfish not hesitating to draw his long single-edged sword and said cheerfully, “At first I thought this would be some boring errand, but never could I have imagined that you would be so straightforward! I like it. So tell me, whose head shall roll?”
Old Basil: ???
When had the average citizens of Lancaster become so fearsome?
