The Kingdom

Chapter 9: A Divine Assist

"Rest assured, this vial of Life Essence is merely a temporary loan. In a few years, it will be returned.

Though the Life Essence is precious, it is not entirely unattainable. After all, not every noble family is as prosperous as ours—there will always be some surplus circulating.

For now, focus on your recovery and don’t overthink. Leave the rest to your father; he will find a way."

The baroness spoke with deliberate composure, yet the faint trace of worry between her brows betrayed her unease. While it was true that the Life Essence could be acquired for a price, the timing remained uncertain.

Among nobles, resources such as these rarely left their tightly knit circles. The exchange of Life Essence was not merely a transaction of wealth, but a negotiation of influence and favor.

Laisur, already on edge, found his mother’s words only deepened his unease.

"A few years? But how many ‘few years’ does a person have?"

By the time the Life Essence was returned, his two younger brothers would have reached the right age. As for himself, he would most likely be abandoned.

At that thought, a surge of hatred for Hudson flared once more in Laisur’s chest. In his eyes, everything that had transpired was Hudson’s fault.

If not for Hudson’s provocation, he would never have resorted to stealing the Life Essence, nor would his reputation have been tainted so thoroughly.

"Revenge—I must have revenge!"

His mind clouded with hatred, Laisur was left with only one thought—Hudson must die.

But wanting revenge was one thing; carrying it out was another.

A direct confrontation was impossible. Even a fledgling knight was still a knight—no mere handful of burly men could hope to defeat him, let alone a mere boy like himself.

Poison? Assassination? Wishful thinking. No one would dare risk their own life for his vendetta. The mere act of voicing such an intent would likely get him reported.

Even the baroness standing before him would never support such a reckless endeavor. Once a precedent for such actions was set, it would only bring endless trouble.

No matter how much she resented Hudson, she was not willing to take that risk. After all, the eyesore that was Hudson would soon leave to forge his own path—who knew when fate might claim him?

"Wait, Mother!"

"Is there a war brewing outside?"

Stopping the baroness just as she was about to leave, Laisur’s voice carried a rare urgency.

The baroness hesitated for a moment before nodding. The mobilization order had already been issued—it was no longer a secret.

Redman, the baron, had been awake the entire night, and as his wife, she too had not slept a wink.

She worried for her son. She worried for her husband.

War was fraught with uncertainties. Should anything happen to Baron Redman on the battlefield, their days of comfort would come to an abrupt end.

Though they wouldn’t be cast out into the streets, their status would plummet. Even if the heir to the family name treated her with due respect for the sake of noble decorum, her sons' futures would hang in the balance.

A brother and a father were two entirely different matters—especially when that brother was only a half-sibling.

"Then let Father take Hudson with him. He is a knight now; it’s time he went to war.

The battlefield is unpredictable. If an accident were to happen, no one would find it suspicious. All it would take is a few well-placed bribes to ensure he never returns."

Laisur’s voice was cold and venomous.

This was the only feasible scheme he could devise against Hudson.

Yet after a brief moment of contemplation, the baroness shook her head regretfully.

"No.

For one, the soldiers who accompany your father into battle are fiercely loyal to the Koslow family—they would not be easily swayed.

Even if there were those willing to act, attempting anything under your father’s watchful eye would be nearly impossible without arousing suspicion.

Hudson is no ordinary man now—he is a knight. It would take more than a handful of common men to ambush him.

And should the attempt fail, leaving behind any trace of foul play, we would find ourselves in grave peril.

If your father so much as suspects us, there will be no way to salvage the situation."

Denied once again, Laisur seethed in silent agony.

His painstakingly devised plan had been dismissed outright by his own mother, leaving him wounded with frustration.

In his mind, she was nothing but a short-sighted woman. If she had been more decisive from the beginning, Hudson and his ilk would never have been allowed to rise.

Wandering bards always sang of legendary heroes who endured oppression before growing into greatness. Though Laisur found himself cast in the role of the villain, he was certain of one thing—Hudson was no protagonist.

There was nothing remarkable about him. No fiancée to break off an engagement, no tragic childhood of starvation, not even a prodigious talent for combat.

He had known Hudson since childhood, and not once had he seen anything extraordinary about the boy.

If only his mother had acted sooner, Hudson would have been dead long ago.

If only those three bastards ahead of him in succession were gone, the entire Koslow family would be his. He wouldn’t be in this predicament now.

…

While Laisur indulged in his own fantasies, the baroness suddenly spoke, a thoughtful glint in her eyes.

"We may not be able to take direct action, but that little wretch, Hudson, in his bid for favor, volunteered to lead his own troops into battle last night. Your father refused him."

"Let him go!"

"Mother, whatever it takes, we must ensure that he goes!"

"The battlefield is ever-changing. Accidents can happen to anyone. If Hudson perishes there, even if Father suspects foul play, there will be nothing to trace back to us."

Laisur’s excitement was palpable.

The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced it was the perfect plan.

First, orchestrate Hudson’s downfall. Then, using the same strategy, eliminate his other two elder brothers.

At last, he would be the sole heir.

"But, Laisur… the battlefield is unpredictable. What if he survives and even manages to distinguish himself? That would be a disaster."

The baroness hesitated, a rare flicker of concern in her gaze.

Clearly, Baron Redman had not shared all the details of his conversation with her. She was unaware of Hudson’s true intentions—to avoid the heat of battle as much as possible. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be so conflicted.

"Mother, you give Hudson far too much credit. Don’t be fooled by Father’s lofty words—he always speaks grandly before sending his sons off, but it’s nothing more than empty encouragement.

You know Hudson’s capabilities better than anyone.

Even if he has some minor skills, he has never commanded troops before. Expecting him to hold his ground in battle, let alone achieve any merit, is laughable.

Other nobles won’t just sit idly by—when there are rewards to be had, they will all rush to seize them. Without Father’s presence, Hudson won’t stand a chance.

He won’t gain a thing. If anything, he is far more likely to become cannon fodder."

Laisur’s analysis was precise and uncharacteristically sharp.

For a brief moment, it was as if an unseen force had granted him an extraordinary clarity of mind.