"From the Vlad Inner Sea to the Astra Tundra, from the Nora Swamp to the Aeria Mountains—it's all my territory!"
"Oh..."
Ingrid brought Annan a map of the Montablinlock Duchy, since he had no idea where those places were. Annan handed it to Girardi. "Could you mark where you are?"
Then Annan saw Gira pick up a quill and place a dot in the map's northeastern corner.
That was nothing like what he'd claimed...
"If you don't believe me, we can form an alliance and sign a contract!" Gira said desperately, as though clutching at a lifeline.
"It's not that we don't believe you," Ingrid explained. "We just need to know how much power you have left."
"The truth is... this ship is the last of my wealth." Gira admitted it with his head bowed. "I spent all my money seeking help. Even my guards left because they thought they had nothing to gain by staying with me."
"Look on the bright side. At least they didn't sell you out," Ingrid said by way of "comfort." "So you have nothing left?"
"I still have my status!" Gira raised his head, his eyes burning with resentment and the desire for revenge. "I'm the rightful heir! As long as I'm alive, that mad dog has no recognized claim to the inheritance!"
This was Middle Earth, where Wilhelm's influence ran deepest. The Mad Dog Duke was not first in line, so any attempt to become Grand Duke of the Montablinlock Duchy was bound to meet resistance—though killing every other heir would make his claim somewhat more "legitimate."
Girardi had lost everything but his identity. If they made him Grand Duke, they could gain the support of the entire Montablinlock Duchy in the future...
"Looks like you've gotten a little smarter."
A familiar voice