The most rundown facility in the prison was underground.
That place housed a number of disaster-class inmates, including the Saintess and the Witch.
In contrast, the well-equipped first floor held relatively docile prisoners.
However, they were only 'docile' by comparison—the impact they could unleash if unleashed would still be immense.
"Grand Elder, I'll step inside for a moment."
I spoke politely as I entered the first-floor cell block.
Inside sat a blond man in a chair.
A chessboard lay before him, but there were no pieces on it.
He was silently gazing at the empty battlefield alone.
"It's you, is it? What brings you here?"
The political heavyweight asked without even glancing my way.
He seemed utterly relaxed, even after sending his hunting dogs after me today.
But picking a fight here would be foolish.
I sat in the chair opposite him and looked down at the board together.
"Who's winning?"
"White's knight just put black in check a moment ago. It's basically over."
This mad noble was playing a solo game in his head, visualizing chess pieces that weren't even there.
The white knight he mentioned was probably his Imperial Tax Agency.
And the black in check—that was me.
"In that case, I suppose it's time to respond."
"Can you find a way out when there isn't one?"
The old man's violet eyes looked at me with pity.
His gaze said his words were fine, but I'd overstepped and should grovel now.
"It's no fun if the opponent crumples right after a critical hit."
I flipped the Grand Elder's chessboard upside down.
And with it, I dropped the formal smile I'd been maintaining.
"You'll need to come upstairs with me for a bit."
"Very well."
Dark Operth followed without asking why.
He kept his dignified expression the whole way to the warden's office.
As if he knew exactly why I'd summoned him.
But the moment he stepped inside, the elder's face turned grim.
The warden's office, which should have been ransacked by his men by now, was instead remarkably peaceful.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
A phonograph, rare even in the capital, played a beautiful melody.
The well-decorated warden's office, and the Tax Agency head sipping whiskey while seated there.
He jolted to his feet at the familiar killing intent from behind him.
Like a Doberman caught by its owner eating treats meant for someone else.
"Oh, Grand Elder! You're here...? I was just sampling the supplies to check for issues."
The prickly agency head bowed his head deeply.
I chimed in from the side, telling him not to scold too harshly.
"He was serving the supplied whiskey. Regulations allow one bottle per month for social gatherings, apparently."
A sly serpent's smile.
The old lion's expression grew even grimmer.
"No issues with the supplies or operational funds so far?"
"None, sir. It was clean—impeccably so. Especially the liquor you told us to scrutinize."
He'd even prepared for the corruption of his boozing predecessor wardens.
The Grand Elder, incredulous at the moves of a mere 21-year-old, said sharply.
"He probably rushed to refill the empty bottles with fresh booze. Predictable."
Dark sniffed the bottles on the desk.
But...
"...What."
Soon, his thick brows furrowed fiercely.
The kid in front of him had mixed various liquors to perfectly replicate the taste and aroma of the military-grade stuff.
All eighty bottles of it.
"You're insane. You did all this yourself?"
"Can't trust my men not to have your spies among them."
In a situation with no witnesses or evidence of swapped booze.
I gestured to the desk for the deflated elder.
"If you're still unsatisfied, check the ledgers."
"No need. He's probably been doctoring them for ages."
Clea rolled her eyes slyly like a fox, avoiding his gaze.
The elder had long since noticed her competence.
"That's why I hit you first, but you're more thorough than expected."
"Feel free to praise me if you want. I'd love to brag about it."
Dark shook his head firmly.
As if this level of improvisation wasn't enough to satisfy him.
"Can't do that. This incident confirmed your weak position."
The old man eyed the bottles littering the floor with his gaze.
The fake booze I'd made alone, precisely because I couldn't trust my men.
"How can I trust a man who has to mix booze alone because his subordinates don't trust him?"
A Grand Elder would already know.
That the recently murdered guard captain had been a Holy See spy.
With a traitor emerging, he was testing my leadership from here on.
"If a subordinate sides with someone higher than you, like in that recent incident, how do you plan to handle it?"
The warden's office fell silent at Dark's pointed question.
Everyone stared at me intently.
"This is my final question. Give a proper answer, and I'll acknowledge you."
"..."
I was a fresh warden at a remote prison.
The Holy See, meanwhile, was the empire's largest religious power.
It was natural for cash-strapped guards to be swayed by them over me.
But...
"There's an easy way."
I knew exactly how to handle opportunists.
And how to punish heavyweights who threatened the warden despite being inmates.
"Just assign them to someone 'higher' than the Holy See."
Deep wrinkles formed between Dark's brows.
Like back in the days when he traded barbs with the Prime Minister in the council.
"Starting today, Berryhill's guards will be assigned to your personal escort, Grand Elder."
I picked up the whiskey glass in front of me.
The ice inside danced merrily.
"My men will love it. Serving someone far higher than the Holy See. Opportunists as they are, they'll thank me for it."
I don't drink tea.
True to my vile villainy, I savored a sip of the golden liquor.
"And since I'm the one who assigned them, they'll see me as part of your line, naturally boosting my standing."
The Tax Agency head watching from behind glanced nervously at Dark.
Sure enough, a chilling shadow fell over the silently listening elder's face.
"Who said I'd accept these greenhorns as my subordinates?"
"I don't need your permission. Like it or not, they'll stick by your side."
I grinned broadly at his question.
From the equal position of a king on the chessboard, utterly unafraid.
"After that, we'll procure supplies from the capital. Big enough for all the nobles to hear about."
Clea, catching my intent, parted her lips slightly.
She knew how vital rumors and image were to politicians.
"The exiled elder is raising a private force. Your close aides will be thrilled—they thought you'd retired, but it turns out there was deeper meaning."
I set down the empty whiskey glass.
And refilled it myself.
"Even those plotting against you won't move. They'll hide again, biding their time."
My face reflected in the golden liquid.
Revealing the expression from his own days hounded by rivals, just like him.
"Keeping the knives meant for you sheathed forever."
Dark reached for the red tea in front of him.
Mid-sip, he realized it had gone completely cold.
"Do you have multiple lives? You say things in front of me you shouldn't."
The old man quietly tilted the teacup.
Dumping the worthless dregs into the saucer, decisively.
"I'm just a warden. If I get fired, that's that. No reputation left to lose anyway."
I slowly pushed a freshly poured glass toward Dark.
With a wicked smile.
"A little tantrum before stepping down changes nothing. But you, Grand Elder? Seems like you've got plenty to lose."
The old man glared fiercely at the snake-like eyes before him.
As if he wanted to crush the worthless serpent underfoot right then.
"...So you're resorting to threats because you lack the power to solve it yourself?"
"If it's threats, you started it first."
I said, looking at the Tax Agency head who'd raided this place in a single day.
He coughed awkwardly and turned away.
"Let's end the stare-down here, Grand Elder."
I no longer catered to his whims.
I warned him with eyes befitting his longtime rival.
"You should take that glass. While our relationship is still good."
A lowly remote prison warden had checkmated the king of nobles.
Outside the capital, here, I was the king of the inmates.
"..."
The Grand Elder silently stared at the golden liquor before him.
He usually avoided alcohol to never show weakness.
Only sharing a drink now and then with blood-sworn allies where a slip of the tongue was safe.
Accepting this drink would make me one of them.
"I see."
After a moment's silence, the elder cleanly acknowledged striking first.
Refusing now would just make his raiding cronies look suspicious.
The reason he'd risen to the top was his ability to value subordinates and acknowledge foes.
"If I take this glass, that petty threat never happened?"
"Of course. As I said, I just want to get along with you, Grand Elder."
I raised my whiskey glass in a toast.
"You'll have a junior just like you at your side while you're here."
"You've got a talent for saying creepy things casually."
Dark lightly lifted his whiskey glass.
Then, the Tax Agency head standing behind spoke up worriedly.
"Grand Elder? You're really going to drink? Didn't you quit for health reasons...?"
"Director."
The old man turned to his subordinate with meaningful intent.
"Remember who I last shared a drink with?"
"Imperial Knight Commander Loben."
"Right. He came crawling to me after you busted him for tax evasion."
"Yes. Even though I'd given him plenty of warning."
The Grand Elder only drank with those on his level.
"The man before me now has no blood ties to cover his back, no informants to tip him off about raids."
He gazed at me steadily.
"Yet he defended perfectly and even threatened this old man in return. While the empire's strongest sword was groveling apologies."
A faint smile formed on Dark's lips, reflected in the glass.
As if recalling his own youth, when he'd buck even against superiors.
"Alliances are made with troublesome bastards like this."
The way he looked at me changed—from a green kid to a promising talent worth nurturing.
Cling—!!!
The two glasses clinked hard.
He'd finally shown sincerity, so now it was my turn to respond.
"I'll tell you my plan to regain my men's trust, as mentioned earlier."
"Speak."
"There's a major swordsmanship tournament soon, hosted by the Northern Grand Duke."
"I know. The kid invited me to watch. Said the prize is hefty."
Dark calling the Northern Grand Duke a 'kid'.
He had little interest in the event, but he paused at my next declaration.
"I'll enter as the prison's representative and take down the Holy See's knights. All Three Great Holy Knights included."
The Holy Knights Order.
One of the continent's strongest knight orders, alongside the Imperial Knights.
Among them, the Three Great Holy Knights were famed as rising stars of divinity.
"I'll make sure my guards won't even glance at the Holy See."
A mere delinquent warden claiming he'd crush such foes.
Finally, the Grand Elder's heavy lips curved upward.
"Talk won't win real fights."
"If I lose, I die alone. You lose nothing."
Dark quietly watched my confident emerald eyes.
At first glance, he'd have dismissed it as bluster from a punk, but not now.
"Fine. What do you want from me?"
Tough task ahead, and his eyes gleamed with anticipation of my demand.
In return, I asked for something he never expected.
"When I win, arrange for me to meet Her Highness the Princess."
The woman third in rank in this vast empire, after the Emperor and Crown Prince.
I requested an audience with the current Magic Tower Lord, the Archmage.
She must survive for me to fully block the elder's wrath.
"..."
The Grand Elder, who'd treated his frail niece like a daughter in place of the Empress.
His face darkened deeply at my request.
"What did you just say?"
"I want to meet Her Highness the Princess. I have something urgent to tell her."
As I pondered ways to prevent her assassination.
A sudden chill ran through me, and I looked back at Dark.
"All your ambition so far was for my niece?"
"...?"
The king of nobles tensed his brows.
His fists clenched, ready to throttle the lecherous serpent.
"So that's why you've been so diligent—aiming for an upward marriage."
"...?"
Even Clea gave me a sullen look.
The Princess was renowned for her beauty, while my damned brothers were infamous playboys.
The perfect storm of misunderstandings hit me hard.
Thanks to that, it took a full hour to clear up this damned misconception.