How to Live as a Tyrant’s Spoiled Brat Chapter 125

How to live as a tyrant's spoiled brat, episode 125

(125)

Cornell sighed deeply.

In her eyes, a sense of indignation no less than Mateos's burned.

“Your Majesty Valencian.”

"okay."

“I thought I compromised to some extent, but did I have to compromise more?”

Cornell's shoulders slumped, but the hand holding his cane became stronger.

I shook my head slightly.

It wasn't meant to be negative, it was meant to be calm.

“I will file a complaint with the High Court.”

Cornell didn't listen to me.

shit.

Marcus clicked his tongue, and Finelcia spoke shamelessly with a face even younger than Connell.

“Try it.”

Cornell snapped back in disbelief.

“Your Majesty, what makes you so confident?”

The High Court was not a place that gave special treatment to nobles.

It was an institution established by local nobles to resolve legal issues brought to the imperial court.

The lawsuits brought there were of a different level from the basic scale.

A family that rules over a territory with a population of 3 million people was split in two and fought for about 10 years. During that time, they entered into political marriages, which made the succession and inheritance order all tangled up. Now, the 1st, 2nd, 3rd, and 4th in line for succession are all dead.

In this situation, I want to split the family, but how should I divide the territory?

As these matters were to be resolved legally, the judges there were all from prestigious court noble families and, like the Minister of the Palace's grandmother, were granted the title of duke.

Even though Finelcia was a count and a famous wizard, it was a place where he could not do anything with his power.

“Don’t pretend to be clean, you sinner’s daughter.”

Finelcia shouted as if spitting fire.

Cornell hardened his face and clenched his teeth.

It was an expression that made me want to ask, “How?”

Finelcia laughed sadistically, mocking that.

“Do you think there is anyone on that street who is not a sinner?”

“!”

It was a guided newspaper.

As expected, it was a monster that could not be taken lightly.

“You must have shed blood in the process of unifying and purifying the slums. It’s not for nothing that lawmakers don’t stab each other in the legislature.”

Since everyone knows each other's shortcomings, once they get together it is bound to turn into a war of exposure.

Then, since we have no choice but to die together, the moment the other person talks about the law, we send thugs to silence them forever.

The knights only fight against external enemies, and the police chiefs have a hard time keeping in check the gangsters who are not connected to power.

I looked at Cornell and shook my head.

“Cornell. Marcus seems to have a lot to say, but I’ll cut him off.”

Marcus made a wince.

“It’s not for nothing that we gather here to solve problems. Remember that. You are no longer someone who follows the law, but someone who creates it.”

Neither Nana nor Cornell had been through too much lawlessness to say that if you're the one making the law, you should be better at enforcing it.

“Besides, it is impossible to be re-indicted for a rebate case.”

“Why?”

Finelcia and Marcus said,

“It’s a custom.”

“At most, the fine will be around three gold coins.”

I shook my head.

“I received it too. You gave it to me.”

“You crazy little brother! When did you take care of me when you were just letting it go?”

puck!

Sereraji, who was calling out to me with a loud voice, struck me on the head with the jewel on the end of his staff.

“No, Lord Valen! That!”

Cornell protested with a look of defeat on his face.

Marcus and Finelcia both looked as if they had been hit in the back of the head.

“You will be a great member of parliament.”

“He already seems like a better member of the National Assembly than you.”

Cornell let out a short sigh and opened his mouth again with a relieved expression.

“Now that it’s come to this, let’s sort it out.”

She had a peculiar way of noticing that I didn't want to take on any more work.

Whether it's Cornell, Marcus, or me, life is all about cleaning up what we've laid out and then laying it out again.

The moment you give up power, you become a sin, and then the people you love die, so you must continue to hold on to power.

It is my job as a member of the royal family to appropriately eliminate the harm that arises in the process.

As I just said, you have to hit it 'moderately'.

Today we captured the 'Old Scholar' organization, but we left Marcus, who was hiring them, untouched.

Rather than taking him down, it's better to use him, who knows everything, to change the world for the better.

I am a person who can do it, and I am a person who must do it.

Cornell smiled wickedly and spoke to the man who seemed to be his father's age.

“Senator Marcus, let’s end it here. Don’t you know the slums? We’ve barely cleaned up that den and made it a place for people to live, so what if you cause trouble instead of helping?”

Marcus answered with eyes that looked not like a child but like a competitor.

“I’m sorry, Senator Cornell. So when my street shops want to move or open a branch, can you just give me a word? I need a chance to convince them, too.”

I didn't know if the persuasion would be through words or through fists.

Cornell would know that too.

But she was a councilwoman from an old slum, not from the north of the street of learning.

She thought about it for a second and then answered.

"yes."

I don't know if I taught him well or if he grew up knowing how to do it on his own.

It's probably the latter.

* * *

Alliances were harder to maintain than to form.

Before Cornell could answer, Finelcia poked Marcus in the ribs.

“What are you suggesting so randomly?”

Marcus had a cowardly smile on his bearded face.

“Your Excellency, wouldn’t it be better to draw the line at this point? Right now, there are only two Archduke Princes involved. And isn’t that the… … famous Highness Valencianus?”

You might want to say 'infamous'.

“I am also worried about the decline in sales, Your Majesty. I have a lot of shares, don’t I? But that doesn’t mean I can continue to destroy the other workshop.”

“Are you telling me to compromise as well?”

Finelcia's fiery eyes flashed.

Marcus hesitated for a moment.

Sereraji leaned her upper body forward.

I understood all those reactions.

The work of the legislators was compromise, and compromise was out of the question for a wizard seeking the truth.

Marcus and Cornell spoke hesitantly.

“Count, this isn’t magic, is it?”

“Your Majesty. If you want to have fun with the members of the National Assembly, you must also respect the laws of the world.”

These were the words of a girl whose face was no different from Finelcia's.

Finelcia smiled eerily and looked into Cornell's eyes.

Cornell gasped under the pressure of being a hundred years older than he was.

“There’s nothing you can’t say. I really want to bite it off.”

But Finelcia was also a person who knew good.

I think he already figured out that I didn't want to grow my business.

“Yes, young congressman. You are right. There is a magical world and a congressman’s world. Both are responsible in different ways.”

Cornell stepped back, lowering his eyes slightly.

It meant that he wouldn't argue about it any further.

She needed to get construction started again as soon as possible and get the cash flowing in.

You're probably going crazy because you're making and receiving a lot of investments but not getting your money back.

I don't expect any compensation, and I'm just grateful that they promised not to cause any more trouble.

… … Later, I should tear off something and bring it to you.

I turned around and looked at Sereraji.

Now, the work of the members of the National Assembly to coordinate their own interests is over.

What remained was the wizard's work, a mix of emotions, pride, and logic of power.

And in my experience, this one is much more difficult.

“Sister?”

Sereraji seemed still in shock after hitting me on the head.

Her blue hair obscured her face, making her expression unreadable.

She slowly raised her head and opened her mouth.

“You guys really have a hard life.”

The two lawmakers let out a muffled and awkward laugh.

“I think that’s great too. I know the laws of heaven, but I don’t know people. In fact, I didn’t really want to know.”

Wizards who can change reality by will do not give meaning to the wavering minds of people.

“I thought that was how you lived, senior. Throwing fire and lightning at other seniors who noticed you in the workshop. Even though your body was ruined and you lost your arm and eye, you never compromised. A wizard worthy of being called a wizard.”

When Finelcia heard those words, she made the same expression on her young face as me.

A faint smile mixed with regret and memories.

Serena looked at her with a confused expression on her face.

“I don’t know what that means. Is it a traitor who compromised with the truth and chose worldly wealth, and then slapped me in the face with dirty tricks, or is it a wizard who doesn’t care about the means or the method?”

Because they could change the world with their will, wizards valued logic and rationality, and were therefore efficient and practical.

If you try it and it works, you just do it, no matter what the world says.

It took me a long time to understand that logic.

When magic manifests, it means you are on the right path to truth.

If it is successfully manifested through human experiments, it means that it is the path to truth.

The world is cursing us? You ignorant bastards.

When Black Saint Matthias was told to burn everything beneath the monastery bell tower, he wondered if this was really God's will.

The one who didn't worry at this time was the wizard.

I didn't think I could live like Finalcia, but I guess I'm doing well?

Then I guess I was wrong.

This was the wizard's logic.

Sereraji is probably thinking the same thing right now.

Sereraji raised her head.

“Senior. I don’t think I can ever admit it.”

That's why your voice cracks like that.

“Then what do you wish to do, Your Majesty?”

“I need to check what my senior found along the way.”

“In a book?”

“No. By duel.”

Finelcia let out a deep sigh.

“Are you saying you want to duel me, someone who has neither eyes nor legs?”

Sereraji smiled faintly.

“Then why don’t you apologize? You confused me by pushing me down the wrong path.”

Finelcia spoke with a voice filled with fiery greed.

“That can’t be.”

“Tomorrow. Warlock training ground. No offensive magical tools except the staff.”

* * *

The battle mages, commonly known as warlocks, had their workshops and defenses inside the tree trunk, not the roots.

The wide smokescreen, about 30 meters above the ground, was circular and about 50 meters wide.

Of course, both the floor and the walls were made of wood, but this wood did not burn in fire or melt in the mountains.

Vines bearing luminous flowers grew here and there, serving as lanterns.

Sereraji had her long, blue hair tied up neatly, and wore a red-lined cone-shaped hat and a robe also with red lining.

The hat and robe were both of a navy color similar to the hair, and were of high quality with several defensive magics applied to them.

Of course, now she is a rich and powerful person who can afford much more expensive things.

But Sereraji still wore the grove and hat.

Like her staff with yellow jewels like her eyes, her robes and hat were also magical tools gifted to her by her old master, Gestarte.

The master was a very important figure to the wizard.

When it comes to magicians, Sereraji thinks of Gestarte.

That flash of red lightning.

A flash of light that moved forward, illuminating the darkness.

“Sister. Are you confident that you can win? It’s true that our experience levels are quite different.”

Valencian asked with a worried voice.

Contrary to popular belief, dueling trials were designed to pit opponents of similar skill level against each other.

For example, when a man and a woman fought, the man had to go into a pit with only his upper body exposed, and if one was good at fighting, he had to use a shorter weapon or take off his armor.

The logic was that in a situation where conditions were equal, the winner was chosen by God.

“Don’t worry. I’ve been following you around so I’m used to fighting without a knight.”

“If you lose, it’ll be a headache. The practicality of the magic tools you make could be questioned. Then the money I invested will go down the drain, and Cornell and I will have a hard time making up for the investment.”

The audience didn't gather in droves, but it was clear that the other party would spread rumors.

At least that's what Valencian thought.

“That’s good. You’ll have to work harder. It’s obvious that you still have some time to spare since you’re worrying about that.”

Sereraji replied coolly and went out into the middle of the training ground.

She was risking her beliefs, not her money.

“Your Majesty, may we begin?”

Finelcia asked her disciple as she accepted the obsidian staff for dueling.

A short wizard with dull white hair cut short to a knife-like length, fiery red eyes, and brown skin.

He had a black eye patch over his left eye, a wooden prosthetic hand on his left hand, and wore a red robe with yellow patterns on a dark red background.

Despite her childish appearance, she had the air of a major figure who had held her place in the Imperial Magic Workshop for decades.

Valencian nodded and took a step back.

Hurrrrr!

Phage crackle!

At that moment, sparks and electricity flew fiercely.