Chapter 45. The Succession Battle for the Dukedom (4)
After a short wait, the Duke of Veneto entered the conference room.
Without wasting time, he announced to everyone,
“I will now present the second problem of the succession battle.”
Once again, it was a test.
Apparently, he believed this format gave Vincent at least some advantage.
Servants entered one after another carrying ceramic pieces.
Almost reflexively, I used [Convenient Lesser Appraisal].
One of them was fake.
Is today’s challenge identifying authentic antiques?
Just as I expected.
“Today’s challenge is to identify the single fake among these five ceramic pieces.”
I was about to answer immediately, but the Duke raised his hand.
“Speed is meaningless. We will repeat the process until only one person remains correct. We have plenty of ceramics.”
The Duke really wanted Vincent as his successor.
He had even changed the rules specifically to restrain me.
Anyway, I quickly found the fake.
Vincent also discussed it with Amar and correctly selected it.
That brat has a good eye too. He found the fake even though there were almost no obvious differences.
While I admired Vincent’s judgment, the servants brought in another set.
The contest continued like this until the fifth group of ceramics arrived.
At this rate, we’ll be here all night. Why are we both getting everything right?
As I complained internally, I noticed something strange in the appraisal information.
There are two fakes.
The system’s information was reliable.
There was no chance it was wrong.
One of the pieces was made by the reproduction specialist Nguyen Phuong Linh, whose work I had seen in the corridor before.
It was such a sophisticated reproduction that it was beautiful enough to be displayed.
Why are there two fakes? What’s the intention? Are they planning to force me to lose by arguing over the result?
I needed to decide quickly.
If I misread the Duke’s intentions, I could lose.
I turned toward him.
When our eyes met, his expression seemed to ask, ‘What?’
The Duke doesn’t know.
That left two possibilities.
Someone else had arranged this, or everyone here mistakenly believed the second fake was real.
Either way, there was one response that solved both problems.
I hope this works.
I waited until Vincent selected his fake.
As expected, he chose the obvious one correctly.
I also identified the same object.
Then I added,
“Everyone, there is another fake. That White Porcelain Inlaid Maebyeong is also a reproduction.”
The Duke looked shocked and immediately objected.
“Nonsense. That ceramic is authentic. My brother-in-law, who trades with the East, gave it to me personally.”
What kind of ridiculous excuse was that?
Instead of using professional judgment to determine authenticity, he trusted the person who gave it to him.
“Then your brother-in-law was probably deceived too.”
“Viscount Marcel, can you take responsibility for those words?”
I did not answer.
I walked over, picked up the maebyeong, and slammed it onto the floor.
Crash!
“What are you doing?!”
“Viscount Marcel, calm down!”
While everyone shouted and tried to stop me, I pointed toward the servants.
“Check the inside of the fragments. The forger’s signature should be there.”
Even in my previous life, forgers throughout history often left their own signatures somewhere on their work.
Perhaps it was pride as artists.
Whatever the reason, those signatures were sometimes what exposed the forgery.
Of course, I was certain this one existed because the system had told me.
[White Porcelain Inlaid Maebyeong.
A reproduction of a national treasure.
The creator’s signature is located on the inner surface.
Made by Nguyen Phuong Linh, a specialist in reproductions.]
One servant picked up a fragment.
“It really is here. The signature says... ‘Phuong Linh.’”
There was no way an ancient cultural artifact would contain a signature written in the modern common language.
It was like discovering a French signature inside an ancient Goryeo celadon.
The forgery had been proven.
The Duke’s people fell silent.
They were probably embarrassed that they had proudly displayed a fake for so long without knowing.
However, this was still a succession battle.
I quickly reminded them.
“Everyone heard that, right? This was fake too, and Vincent failed to identify it.”
The Duke looked even more depressed than yesterday.
Finally, he declared,
“...Today’s winner is Matteo again.”
Then he stood, only to stagger.
“Ugh!”
“Father!”
Viscount Chioggia moved like lightning and supported him.
“Let go, you brat. I’m fine.”
I had expected another comedy routine like yesterday.
But apparently, today was different.
The father and son quietly left together.
Vincent approached me again.
“Last year, I heard a ridiculous rumor. A noble in the Franche Kingdom had received a blessing from a god.”
That was obviously me.
“Then I heard another rumor, that the same noble could see through people. Apparently, people are not the only things you can see through.”
Vincent offered me his hand.
“It seems I’m going to lose this battle.”
In a best-of-five match, winning the first two rounds was almost the same as winning the whole thing.
A comeback was extremely difficult.
A reverse sweep was considered miraculous for a reason.
Vincent was intelligent enough to understand that.
And even if he did his absolute best, his opponent possessed abilities far beyond ordinary people.
He knew both his enemy and himself.
He could see how bad the situation had become.
This kid is such a waste. No matter how I look at it, he’s much better than Viscount Chioggia.
Personally, I liked him.
A part of me wanted to switch sides right now.
However, regardless of my personal feelings, there was something I needed to do.
Extract as much benefit from Veneto as possible.
For that purpose, I ignored Vincent.
Sorry, kid. Suffer a little longer.
* * *
Just before I returned to Viscount Chioggia’s residence, one of the ducal servants quietly approached me.
The Duke wished to see me alone.
I followed the servant into a private room.
The Duke was already waiting.
Within a minute, plates of snacks filled the table.
Apparently, everything had been prepared in advance.
While chewing snacks with the Duke, I first laid out my position.
“Your Grace, I have no intention of giving up.”
“Why are you going so far to support Matteo?”
Because this made you summon me.
And because you would offer me a carrot.
“Because I gave him my word. We promised to help each other.”
“Even if I offered something better?”
Your offer was probably going to become increasingly favorable to me.
Of course I intended to accept eventually.
“Yes. I am still a noble. I cannot simply throw away my honor.”
“Hmm.”
The Duke sank into thought.
His brows remained deeply furrowed for several minutes.
While I chewed on dried meat, he finally opened his mouth.
“Matteo is too stupid. He takes after me.”
At least you know.
“That expression just now makes it look like you already knew that.”
Sharp old man.
“Surely not.”
“Bah. Anyway, it’s true that I’m more attached to Matteo. What parent dislikes a child who resembles himself?”
“Watching the two of you together naturally makes me smile.”
“Exactly. But I am a lord. You are a lord too, so you understand, don’t you?”
I did.
A lord carried a burden on his shoulders.
He could not simply choose his favorite child.
The most capable child needed to become the successor.
“If you know a way, teach me. I’ll give you anything. If Matteo becomes lord, the territory will decline. Eventually, he won’t even be able to protect Chioggia. This age is different from mine. Wolves are everywhere now. Matteo doesn’t have the ability to protect the territory.”
“......”
An age of chaos.
If Viscount Chioggia became Duke of Veneto, then although he was currently a generous tree I could shake for rewards, someday there might not even be a territory left for me to squeeze.
Does this old man think I’m a vampire? And he thinks I plan to drag this succession battle all the way to the end.
The Duke would pass the title to Vincent anyway.
This was about saving face and making sure Vincent also won the official competition.
This time, I pretended to think deeply.
When the wrinkles between my brows did not disappear, the Duke finally threw out his bait.
“Tell me the conditions Matteo offered you. I’ll grant them immediately, then add even more benefits.”
Suddenly, the initiative had shifted to him.
Should I bite?
It felt a little early, but judging from his expression, my plan had already succeeded.
Fine. Let’s end this. There’s no reason to make him genuinely resent me.
Just as I had planned, winning the first two rounds and then negotiating was ideal.
Now I would lay out my conditions.
“Viscount Chioggia and I promised mutual most-favored treatment in trade through the marriage alliance, particularly in customs procedures and tariffs. In exchange for helping with the succession battle, I was also promised Bird Droppings Island in the Balearic Islands. And if he became Duke, he promised to abolish Veneto’s tariffs on Marcel products.”
The Duke immediately became angry.
“What the hell has Matteo been promising you? That idiot...”
“Ahem.”
“...Do you really need all of that? Can’t you reduce it a little?”
“It has barely been one minute since you said you would give me even more.”
“Damn it.”
So much for dignity.
“Listen. I can give you most-favored treatment immediately. I’ll transfer Bird Droppings Island too. But complete tariff abolition is impossible. If I give that to you, every other territory will line up demanding the same thing.”
“What about mutual tariff abolition instead of unilateral abolition? Other territories would find that much harder to copy.”
The Marcel Territory mainly exported monopoly goods protected by guild rights, so we had little to lose.
Other territories were different.
If they completely opened their markets to Veneto, which distributed countless different goods, their own foundational industries could be threatened.
Damn. It’s depressing that this works because my territory is poor enough not to have much to protect.
“Hmm. That is persuasive. Fine. I’ll agree to that too.”
Done.
Time to stop.
If I became any greedier, he might actually hate me.
“Very well. I’ll withdraw.”
“Whew. Thank you.”
The Duke loosened his clothing as though he had been sweating.
“Now convince Viscount Chioggia. The best solution is for him to withdraw voluntarily.”
“What are you talking about? If I could convince him, I wouldn’t have called you here.”
“You’ve been using the wrong method. Say exactly what I tell you.”
“How?”
The Duke leaned closer.
He looked like a parent listening carefully to his child’s homeroom teacher.
“Tell him who really killed your eldest son. Also tell him Vincent had nothing to do with it.”
The Duke frowned.
“Do you know who the real culprit is?”
“Everyone in the world except your sons probably knows.”
If even I had figured it out after hearing only a few passing comments, everyone working in the lord’s residence must have noticed.
“What if Matteo tries to kill my wife?”
Crazy old man.
This man still cared for his wife after she killed his eldest son.
If it were me, I would have cut off her head.
He had merely sent her back to her family.
Apparently, like Viscount Chioggia, the Duke was also completely captivated by the Duchess.
At this point, I’m curious what she even looks like.
“That won’t happen. Matteo admires the Duchess.”
“Admires her?”
“It’s closer to worship or an unreachable crush. That kind of feeling is common among young men.”
The Duke chewed on a snack and thought.
Then he asked,
“Will that alone convince him?”
“Threaten to kill me.”
“What? I would never do something so dishonorable...”
“You need to.”
“......”
Honestly, it was fortunate the Duke of Veneto was a noble who still cared about noble conduct.
After interfering this badly, it would not have been strange if my life had genuinely become endangered.
With nothing else to say, I stood.
“I’ll see you tomorrow at the third succession battle. I hope your persuasion succeeds.”
The Duke did not answer.
He was already absorbed in a problem far more important than exchanging farewells.
