Genius Prince’s National Revitalization from State Deficit ~ Right, Let Us Sell the Country - Volume 11 - Chapter Ep

Epilogue

Word of Lowellmina’s victory rapidly spread across the continent. The once-ignored princess had soundly defeated her older brothers and taken the throne. A dumbfounded and confused populace bore witness to the very first Empress. Every world leader took the news differently. Falcasso’s Prince Miroslav groaned, but Soljest’s King Gruyere burst into raucous laughter.

As for the Empire’s ally, Natra...

“Oh...? So the Empire now has an Empress.”

“Yes. I was surprised as well.”

In a room inside the royal family’s detached villa, Falanya discussed this major development with bedridden King Owen.

“Wein told me he’ll be away for a while because of this. Someone wishes to meet him, so he has his hands full.”

“Natra and the Empire are allies. Plus, this comes as no surprise when you consider the friendship your brother shares with Princess Lowellmina. Still, you must feel lonely and upset, Falanya.”

“F-Father! I’m not a child anymore!”

“Ha-ha-ha, forgive me. As a parent, you’ll always be my little girl.”

Owen stroked Falanya’s hair apologetically as she pouted. The two were truly father and daughter. Falanya spoke softly while the king consoled her.

“I wonder why Princess Lowellmina wanted to be Empress so badly.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well... it’s a difficult job, isn’t it? I was only Wein’s stand-in, but the work was endless. I can’t imagine how busy she’ll be as a sovereign. Had she remained a princess, she could have lived a peaceful, easy life with no worries.”

Falanya had spoken with Lowellmina in the merchant city of Mealtars and during the princess’s visit to Natra. She was cheerful, beautiful, and intelligent. Falanya had difficulty accepting Lowellmina and Wein’s close friendship, but excluding that, she thought the princess was quite charming. Such qualities alone would have guaranteed her a blissful life without ever becoming Empress.

“Hmm...” Owen briefly pondered his daughter’s question. “I’ve never met Princess Lowellmina personally... But from what I’ve heard of her, I doubt she was goaded by her vassals or lured by power.”

“Then why?”

“She must have a goal beyond the throne.”

Falanya stiffened at this remark.

“Happiness is born from acceptance. Even if Princess Lowellmina is beloved by her citizens and enjoys all the comforts of life, a dismal shadow would have haunted her until she accepted this fate. The princess could have elected to coexist with that darkness. . . but she didn’t. Unable to embrace the joyous future she was handed, Princess Lowellmina purposefully raced down a perilous road.”

How admirable, Falanya thought. It was certainly one way to strengthen one’s heart. Any such person must be noble indeed.

What did this say about Falanya? Natra’s princess was a worrywart who spun around in circles. The age gap between her and Lowellmina made no difference. Even if both girls had been the same age and rank, Falanya never would have aimed to become Empress. They were two completely different people.

“...Falanya.”

“Ah, yes? What is it, Father?”

“It’s all right to question your path. Ask yourself what you want to do and what you are willing to accept.”

Falanya mulled over her father’s words. Should she support Natra as its princess or rule as its leader? Which choice could she live with?

“Pardon me.” After a knock at the door, a young man with white hair and crimson eyes entered. He was Levan, King Owen’s Flahm aide. “Your Majesty, it is time for your medicinal bath and physical examination.”

“Already? I’m sorry we couldn’t talk longer, Falanya.”

“Don’t worry, Father. You’ve given me much to consider.” Falanya gave a deep bow, unwilling to interrupt his medical care. “I’ll excuse myself for today. Please take care of yourself, Father.”

“I will. Don’t push yourself too hard, Falanya.”

Once his daughter had left the room, Owen faced Levan.

“So I take it you have something to discuss with me?”

“Your Majesty is as astute as ever.”

“Heh. Well, we’ve known each other for a long time.”

Owen and Levan exchanged quiet smiles that reflected the trust they’d built over the years as master and servant. Then Levan’s gaze narrowed.

“It is not pleasant news, but I must tell you all the same—it concerns us Flahm.”

Lowellmina adored the Empire. She loved it to pieces and vowed to devote every ounce of herself to its prosperity.

Yet while the Empire was a meritocracy, a girl like Lowellmina had few options. She had to be someone trustworthy. Virtuous and loving. Regal and feminine. Such traits had been continuously forced on her, and Lowellmina despised them with every fiber of her being. As she’d grown more despondent, the princess was advised to enter the military academy. Many noble girls attended, apparently. A faint hope had bloomed in Lowellmina’s chest, and she had entered the school under the name Lowa Felbis.

But nothing was different there...

For female students, the academy was nothing more than an opportunity to land a future husband, and everyone was satisfied to follow the script they’d been given. Not one girl demonstrated the will to determine her future by her merit.

Bombarded by disappointment, despair, and resignation, Lowellmina had grown more distant. Then one day, she’d heard a rumor concerning a group of four brilliant but reckless students who lived by their own rules. Unwilling to accept defeat, Lowellmina had observed the quartet and had been stunned by what she saw.

These peop le... they ’re...

They did whatever they pleased by whatever method suited their fancy and depended on no one else. They set out to do something and did.

Despite her eagerness, Lowellmina hadn’t been able to easily carve out her own path like these four. She’d desperately wished to be more like them.

And perhaps she could. Yes, it was possible. She’d only needed to get closer.

In that case...!

Lowellmina had gathered up a lifetime’s worth of courage and walked over to the group.

“I’m curious about you all. Will you let me observe you?”

To be honest, she was still bitter about Wein’s scathing reply.

“Ahh, I am going to die! This is the end! Farewell!”

Back in the present day, victorious Lowellmina’s wails echoed through the halls of the Imperial Palace.

“Why is there sooo much to do?! Even if I could split myself into a pair, they still wouldn’t be enough!”

After finally defeating her three brothers and taking the throne, Lowellmina also inherited all the responsibilities that came with the Empress position. She was ready to enjoy a new golden age, but that splendor was superficial. In reality, Lowellmina was at the end of her rope.

“Yes, that does sound rough.”

“Don’t act like you’re not involved, Strang!”

Lowellmina’s friend leisurely sipped his tea while she ran around like a headless chicken. He was quite relaxed for someone who’d betrayed his master.

“Please help me out! You can handle a few documents, can’t you?!”

“No thanks. It sounds like a pain.”

“Curse you, Four-Eyes...!”

Lowellmina glowered at him with disdain, but Strang pressed on.

“Well, it’s more than just a matter of inconvenience. I need to keep my position in mind. Now that I’ve openly betrayed Prince Manfred, I don’t want to draw unwanted attention by sticking close to you, Lowa.”

Word of the incident in Manfred’s camp would soon spread across the continent and go down in history. Strang didn’t care about others’ opinions, but it was wise to avoid inciting resentment.

“Why are you so indifferent? Thanks to the ruckus you caused, keeping a low profile will be impossible. You and Glen should just become my aides already.”

“Oh right. Come to think of it, what will Glen do?”

“He said he can’t help me until he atones for his transgressions. He’s put himself under voluntary house arrest.”

“Some things never change,” Strang said with a wry smile.

“This is no laughing matter!” Lowellmina cried. “I need all the help I can get! That includes you, Strang! You said you planned to betray Manfred all along, so please be my pawn! I promise I won’t hate you as much!”

“I see. Yes, I suppose that’s the best course of action.”

“Excellent! We have a verbal contract. In that case, you can start on this half of the paperwork mountain! I don’t want to hear any gripes. Don’t stop for even a second!”

Lowellmina pushed her files on Strang, and he raised his hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay, I’ll help you... But first, there’s something I’d like to confirm.”

“It’s about Wespail, right?” Lowellmina narrowed her eyes. “I won’t break my promise, no matter how long it takes. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure its autonomy is recognized.”

“I’m relieved to hear it. However, there’s one more thing that concerns me.” Strang’s tone turned grave. “Can you guarantee Wespail won’t be punished for the matter we discussed?”

“Yes,” Lowellmina replied. “But I can’t swear I won’t ever take advantage of it.”

“...What’s that supposed to mean, Lowellmina?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” the soon-to-be Empress asked with a ferocious smile.

“Something wicked.”

“Grah, my head is killin’ me...” Wein moaned as he collapsed onto a sofa. It was shortly after the War for Succession, and he was still in Nalthia.

“You’ve obviously had too much to drink,” Ninym chided him.

“It’s not my fault,” he protested weakly. “I’ve got an endless line of well-wishers.”

Indeed, high-society members from every corner of the Empire had all decided to pay Wein a visit. Needless to say, this wasn’t solely because he was the prince of an allied nation; he was also a close acquaintance of the Imperial Princess, who’d emerged victorious from the battle. Unfortunately, Wein couldn’t snub such distinguished individuals. Thus, his alcohol intake surged during these get-togethers, resulting in
constant headaches.

“I appreciate the nobility’s enthusiasm...but if I’m this busy, Lowa must be losing her mind.”

“I’m sure she’s saying ‘I’m going to die’ every three seconds.”

Wein dabbled in politics as well, so he could imagine how swamped Lowellmina was feeling.

“How is the post-war cleanup coming along?”

“Everything seems to be going well so far. Prince Bardloche and Prince Manfred have been taken alive, and there’s been minimal resistance. However, the two princes’ factions must be dissolved and absorbed under Lowellmina’s rule, and the preparations for her coronation are still underway. It might take time for her to assume authority.”

Only the average soldier could go home after a loss. For any leader, the end of the war was just the beginning.

“Well, that’s Lowa’s business. Let’s stick to long-distance support.”

“Yes, we have our own to-do list,” Ninym agreed.

A knock at the door prompted Wein to sit up. An official entered not a moment after.

“Your Highness, a guest has arrived.”

“Show him in.”

The man gave an obedient nod and ushered the guest inside.

“It is a pleasure to meet you. I am the crown prince of Natra, Wein Salema Arbalest,” Wein greeted him. “Thank you for coming, Sir Ernesto.”

Ernesto, the Leader of Eastern Levetia, smiled evenly.

Once it was evident the initial introductions between Wein and Ernesto had gone well, Ninym silently took her leave to prepare to host the religious leader. This could have been accomplished without Ninym’s help if they were back in Natra. Regrettably, this was the Empire. With the current Natran delegation acting as the only available staff, Ninym needed to take charge on multiple fronts.

“How is the flavor, Lady Ninym?”

“...A bit rich. Disciples of Eastern Levetia have simple palates, so less is more.”

“The room furnishings are Imperial. Is that all right?”

“Yes, but use the silverware we brought from Natra.”

“Captain Raklum wishes to confirm our defensive measures.”

“I’ll be right there. Please tell a representative of His Grace’s guards they also have permission to attend the meeting.”

While Ninym continued to issue orders with practiced efficiency...

“Lady Ninym, I have just returned from Natra.”

Ninym stopped for a moment to receive the messenger’s report. “Good work. How is the situation in Natra? Has anything changed?”

Falanya and her vassals were watching the homestead, but it was difficult to predict what might happen in these turbulent times. The people of Natra were surely concerned about Wein and the others as they meddled in the Empire’s business. Therefore, a messenger periodically traveled between Natra and the delegation to secretly report on the state of affairs.

“No. The vassals, led by Princess Falanya, have come together to run the government in an efficient manner.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Ninym replied, although internally, she was a mess of conflict.

Natra was doing okay without Wein; this was welcome news for any ordinary citizen, but the prince’s vassals were surely worried that such a development could undercut their master. The likelihood of them using this opportunity to keep Wein settled down at home was equally alarming.

“Anything else to report?”

“No, nothing in particular. All is well,” the subordinate answered.

Ninym nodded with relief. At any rate, Natra was safe. That was all that mattered.

She could focus on showing Eastern Levetia the utmost hospitality.

Just as this thought crossed her mind, the messenger continued sheepishly, "... However, there is one more topic of concern.”

Ninym frowned. “Nothing is too trivial. Speak.” Foreboding built in the Flahm girl’s gut. Whatever this was, she couldn’t look the other way.

“This is difficult for me to say...” the messenger admitted sheepishly. “There has been some kind of reported activity among the Flahm.”

“What?”

Ninym’s expression instantly grew dark.

“So Prince Bardloche has failed.”

“Yes... Forgive me, Lady Caldmellia.”

In the old capital of Lushan, Ibis kneeled in a room of the Agency of the Holy King within Levetia’s headquarters. Caldmellia, the director of Levetia’s Gospel Bureau and Ibis’s master, sat before her.

“I’d assumed his obvious dealings with the West would sow more chaos across the continent once he became Emperor. What a pity.”

“I provided his faction with supplies, but it was to no avail. My deepest apologies,” Ibis said with a humble bow.

In truth, Caldmellia wasn’t terribly upset by the results. To her, the deal with Bardloche was little more than a bonus.

“Fret not, Ibis. The matter with Prince Bardloche is unfortunate, but we are still on our way to fulfilling our primary mission. Isn’t that right, Owl?”

Caldmellia turned to the one-armed man beside Ibis. His name was Owl, and like Ibis, he served the director.

“Yes. I have made contact with the Flahm in Natra and successfully disseminated the information as per your instructions.”

“Marvelous,” she said with a satisfied bob of her head. “It was well worth supporting Prince Bardloche and prolonging the bedlam in the East. To outwit Prince Wein, we had to keep him busy abroad.”

“Does that mean everything is going according to plan, Lady Caldmellia?”

“Yes. Let us give our all, observe the situation ever so closely, and sow chaos.”

Caldmellia smiled. “A drowning man will grasp at anything, even a piece of straw. But suppose that straw had a mind of its own. Would it brush away the hand? Drown together? I’m quite looking forward to it.”

Several men gathered in secret in the Natran capital of Codebell. Each had white hair and red eyes. They were Flahm.

“Did you hear? About you-know-what," one said warily.

“I did. Is it true?”

The area was deserted, but everyone kept glancing around them. They knew this discussion couldn’t be made public.

“I heard there’s definite proof, but...”

“No one’s actually seen it.”

“Maybe one of the elders will know?”

The rumors circulating among Natra’s Flalun seemed baseless at first, but it wasn’t long before a distinct outline came into focus.

“But what if, just maybe...it’s somehow true...?”

“There is no question it will be an immense opportunity and blessing for our people.”

“In that case, we’ll need to learn more.”

Passion colored the men’s voices.

“The crown prince’s aide, Ninym Ralei...”

“If she really is a direct descendent of the Founder...”

“The Flahm Kingdom might rise once again...”

The hearsay born from a phantom of hope would soon transform into truth and spread like a disease among the Flahm.

"..."

After hearing the messenger’s report, Ninym finished her preparations to receive Ernesto and sank into contemplation.

There was worrisome activity among Natra’s Flahm.

The news instantly rattled Ninym’s heart, and the lack of information only heightened her unease.

Natra was a diverse nation, but history had taught the Flahm to keep to themselves. The man who’d reported to Ninym wasn’t a Flahm, so he couldn’t mine for more details.

Master Levan is the Flahm leader of Natra, so everything should be fine. Still...

Ninym was only human and had no idea what was happening in distant Natra. And as Wein’s aide, she couldn’t simply abandon her duties and rush back home.

I hope the situation doesn’t go beyond political activism...

Ninym didn’t think fighting for one’s rights was wrong, but others would protest and grow increasingly hostile if the Flahm took things too far. She wanted to make her people understand this, but sure enough...

I’m a Flahm and our next leader...but more importantly, I’m Wein’s aide.

Her priorities were Wein and Natra’s well-being above all else. If the Flahm rioted, severe punishment would be necessary if there was to be any hope of preserving their people’s future position. Besides, there was no point in joining the Flahm against Wein or Natra.

“Haven’t you ever thought about challenging Wein?”

Ninym recalled the words of a friend.

"..."

He’d claimed the current era presented an advantage in a showdown against Wein.

I see, Ninym thought. If those troublesome friends had been in her shoes, they would have seized upon this perfect opportunity.

“The whole thing is ridiculous.”

Ninym quietly laughed at herself. Unlike them, she’d never once felt a desire to fight Wein or become his enemy. She was his servant, and he was her prince. That was how things had always been and would be. It was enough for her.

“I’d better check on Wein.”

Ninym returned to her duties, banishing the silly notions from her mind. All the while, she remained blissfully unaware of what was coming...

It was a scene from a long-forgotten past. Just a silly conversation between a young boy and a girl.

“Wow, we’re actually attending the academy entrance ceremony.”

“Don’t stand out too much, okay? After all, you’re a foreign prince,” the girl cautioned as she adjusted the boy’s tie.

“Try as I might, there’s no hiding my irresistible aura.”

“Yes, yes, I know.”

After slightly adjusting the tie’s angle, the girl slowly stepped back for one final check. She nodded in satisfaction.

“Yes, that should do it. It’s still difficult to believe we were sent abroad to study in the Empire.”

“At this rate, the Empire will dominate the modern era. We’ve gotta keep an eye on the enemy.”

“Isn’t it our ally?”

“That doesn’t mean we’ll be friends forever. There’s always the chance it might cut us off, or we might kick the crap out of it.”

“You really think Natra could bully the Empire?”

When one considered the difference in strength, Natra would sooner break its leg trying.

“Anyway, the Empire’s military academy is the talk of the town, so why not just enjoy the ride? I hope we meet some interesting characters.”

‘“Interesting characters’? Do you want to be friends with people like that?”

“Or enemies.”

“...You really are too combative.”

“Not at all. I’m just saying anyone out to get me is way more fascinating than those who play nice.”

The girl had to wonder about that. The boy’s eccentric worldview was exasperating, but she found herself indulging it and asking a question.

“So which am I?”

"..."

She posed the inquiry out of sheer curiosity, but the boy’s expression suddenly grew serious. After a brief pause, he answered in an impossibly grave tone.

“Are you asking me because I secretly ate your snack yesterday?”

“Not at all, but please go on.”

“Uh-oh. I really gotta stop putting my foot in my mouth.”

The girl yanked the boy’s collar as he tried to escape, and she chewed him out. Her question remained unanswered, but she didn’t realize that until much later.

It’s not tike I’d ever funi against him anyway.

Still, she could not help but imagine.

What if, by some minuscule chance, they did become enemies? Should that come to pass, the least she could do to repay him was become an exciting adversary. The girl didn’t think such a thing would ever happen.

And thus, the long-standing war between the serpents of the East concluded. However, there was still plenty in store for the era that would later be dubbed the “Great War of Kings.” This was only the turning of one page.