Chapter 1 - Hey, How About Feeling My Massive Ego?
Summers in Natra were markedly short.
There was a geographic explanation for this: its location at the northernmost end of the continent.
The warm season made people buzz with activity, and the Kingdom of Natra was no exception. Because summers never lasted long, the citizens were bent on making the most of every minute. In fact, they seemed to come more alive than any other nation.
On top of that, they were humming with excitement over the various exploits of Prince Wein. All had expected this summer to be particularly spirited, and they weren’t wrong.
… Except this year had an element of surprise.
The season drew to a close. Fall was just around the corner.
It was the time of year to cool off their heated heads, but the citizens of the kingdom were continuing to party like it was midsummer.
There was one reason for it.
The Kingdom of Natra was flourishing.
“—Heh-heh-heh-heh.”
An eerie chuckle echoed through the room.
It held an uncontainable mirth that seemed to spill out involuntarily.
“Ha-ha-ha-ha… Ha-ha-ha-ha!”
After a short fit, the peals of laughter became louder and louder.
“HA-HA-HA-HA-HA—gh?! Koff!”
Wrong pipe. After a few seconds of violent coughing, someone softly sighed.
“Oof… I should’ve known better than to do that without practice.”
A boy was massaging his throat.
The Crown Prince of the Kingdom of Natra. Wein Salema Arbalest.
“—But let me give it another go!”
“Stop.”
A stack of papers smacked the top of his head before he could go for round two.
Wein turned around to find his aide, Ninym Ralei, hovering over him.
“Why strain your vocal cords for nothing?”
They were in his office at Willeron Palace. The gentle breeze blowing through the open window signaled autumn was coming.
“I can’t think of anything more embarrassing than a prince laughing himself hoarse.”
“…You’ve got a point.” Wein offered the tiniest nod. “But this doesn’t happen every day! I think I can afford to get a little hyped!”
“I hear you, but…”
He was talking about Natra’s recent windfall.
The documents on his desk marked the traffic of incoming goods and people, as well as resulting business dealings and anticipated revenue. All signs pointed to their economy on the up-and-up.
“Increased revenue and profits! And room to keep growing! How could I not laugh? Let’s ditch our political duties and party!”
“Seeing the world through rose-colored glasses, huh…”
The Kingdom of Natra was notorious for sucking on three major levels: location, industry, and reputation. A triple threat, but in the worst way.
There was one reason why it had suddenly caught a break: It had managed to shed its suckiness.
How did this happen?
First, location. Two hundred years ago, the nation had been founded on prime restate, which could be attributed to its relations with one of the biggest religions in the Western continent—the Teachings of Levetia.
According to doctrine, its founder had made a loop around Varno upon receiving a divine message from God, tracing the entire continent from west to north to east to south, before circling back to the West.
It was only a matter of time before the trail became a pilgrimage. The Kingdom of Natra had been founded on its route, serving as a continental divide nestled deep in the northern mountains. It didn’t take long for it to become a hotspot for potential business dealings with followers of Levetia.
Which was how we were able to thrive in the past, Ninym reminded herself.
However, a hundred years after their founding, the situation had been flipped on its head, due to the Circulous Law. Based on a new interpretation of the scriptures, a half loop around the western section of the continent was now considered an acceptable pilgrimage.
This had been a huge blow for Natra.
Many chose to take the new route that circumvented the nation, since it was shorter and safer. As a result, the number of people passing through their kingdom dropped drastically. Once a necessary pit stop for traveling believers, the Kingdom of Natra had been downgraded to the middle of nowhere in an instant.
And we finally had a beacon of light this spring.
One hundred years since the implementation of the Circulous Law, the neighboring kingdom—Marden—had vowed allegiance to Natra. Obviously, this was going to boost Natra’s power as a nation, and more important, Marden was on the new pilgrimage route. Their union meant Natra had gotten a piece of good real estate for the first time in a hundred years.
Not that this will restore our former glory.
This left them with two other problems: no viable industries and a crappy reputation.
Marden hadn’t taken advantage of the stream of people passing through the kingdom. After all, it had nothing to offer.
In fact, the two nations were on par when it came to the infertility of their land and the lack of basic infrastructure to accommodate travelers and their companions.
That said, they couldn’t just offer imported goods from other nations in the West, since the travelers would be hitting up those exact spots as they completed their pilgrimage. They could have attempted to bring in goods from the East, though that trade route had been blockaded by Natra.
At first glance, this problem could have been resolved by the two nations joining forces. However, Natra had distanced itself from other kingdoms after it was forcibly ejected from the route, and Marden hadn’t wanted to associate with Natra, fearing animosity from Levetia.
But our union has settled this dilemma.
Their own industries were as lousy as ever. However, their alliance with Earthworld Empire had allowed them to import goods from the other half of the continent for the past hundred years.
In other words, they could offer the hottest commodities of the East.
As for reputation, that’s been addressed by Wein and Princess Falanya.
Even with the best goods and location, a terrible reputation was enough to keep people away.
Though his recent exploits were outstanding, Prince Wein had been only a topic of local discussion until the previous year. The citizens under his care and government leaders in other nations were in the know, but residents of other kingdoms weren’t too familiar with the intimate details.
“I’ve heard that one prince is doing okay for himself,” someone would say.
“Cool,” another would offer.
However, his approach to the incident in the merchant city of Mealtars had certainly changed things. Every influential leader from each nation had been there, and the event had drawn the attention of the entire continent. Everyone across Varno knew the names of Prince Wein and Princess Falanya, now that they’d come in clutch at the eleventh hour.
Inevitably, it boosted their reputation as a whole, recognized in the eyes of society.
Now the Kingdom of Natra became a triple threat of the good kind: prime real estate, covetable goods, stellar reputation. As a result, the winds of fortune blew down on them for the first time in a hundred years.
“Whew! It ain’t easy being a genius!”
With everything that had happened, Wein’s ego had inflated to grand proportions. If his ballooning self-importance could take up space in the real world, there would be enough room for him to do a little jig on it.
To make things worse for Ninym, it wasn’t wrong to attribute these recent successes to his ingenuity in the face of adversity. She couldn’t make up her mind to admonish or agree with him.
“If we continue to flourish, the people will be happy, and our budget will get even bigger! Which means more opportunities will present themselves to us! And that’ll let us live in the lap of luxury! Our value as a kingdom will climb! Smooth sailing from here on out! Yes, ma’am! I think I’ll keep living the high life as a prince!”
“…Says the one who was eager to commit treason and retire. Changing your tune, huh.”
“What?! Retire? Commit treason? Who said that? I’m only committed to upholding this position and indulging in extravagance!”
“I’m relieved to hear that. Enjoy.” A mountain of paperwork landed on his desk. “I need you to look over and sign these reports from each department. This one wants to know if we’d like to import additional dyes from the Empire. This says they’re low on personnel at the border and request a bigger budget. And a letter of protest has arrived from the Delunio Kingdom, so please write back to them.”
“…Why do I have more responsibilities now that we’re doing well, Miss Ninym?!”
“Because it means more people and more jobs. And that leads to more paperwork for those in charge.”
“I knew it! I have to sell off this kingdom and get out of here…!”
He was never one to hesitate to turn his back on his people.
“Wein, I swear…” She looked positively beat. “Well, I guess it’s too late to correct your personality. Whatever. There’s something we need to resolve immediately. And it’s not paperwork.”
“Hmm?!” Wein scoffed. “Fine! Good times don’t necessarily mean fewer responsibilities! But you can’t be seriously suggesting there’s an irresolvable problem! I mean, do you know who you’re talking to? There’s no way that’s the case! After all, where there’s work, there’s money! And money can solve anything! That’s the distinct pleasure of being king! Ha-ha-ha! I wish I knew what it’s like to feel defeated!”
“All right. I’ll give it a try. What are you going to do about our new territory—Marden?”
Wein stopped signing papers. His ego deflated until he collapsed onto his desk.
There was a moment of silence.
“…Ninym.”
“Yes?”
“You know, there’s a bitter taste to defeat…”
“That was easy.” Ninym sighed in exasperation. “So, what are you going to do?”
“AAAAAAH!” he shouted in agony. “Aaah! Jeez! What am I supposed to do with Marden?!”
“This is a tricky one…” She had on a look of concern as Wein clutched his head.
Who would benefit the most from economy expansion in Natra?
Marden, of course. Of the three threats, its territory boasted a location for people to gather and conduct business.
Since Marden was part of their kingdom, any boost to its economy carried over to Natra. That meant nothing was amiss…except that wasn’t how things worked in a feudal system.
“If we can keep this boom going, it won’t even take ten years before Marden will surpass the Arbalest family.”
Yikes, Wein thought, scrunching up his face.
In a feudal state composed of many lords, it was necessary to maintain national power to remain at the top. With it came the ability to mobilize soldiers—and this was an era where military power was paramount.
That is to say, any leader without national power would be considered weak. Without the people’s support, the other lords would distance themselves.
“Of course,” Ninym continued, “it’s a big ‘if.’ Realistically speaking, I imagine we’ll have to deal with some form of interference and sabotage.”
“But let’s say nothing changes. In ten years, Marden will stop listening to us… Guess we better do something about it.”
In history, there were certainly kings who retained control with their popularity and charisma, despite having less power than their lords. However, these were exceptions.
“It’d be nice if we’d just have to deal with insubordination. I mean, they used to be royals, and now they’re under our thumb. They’re all going to be a little stubborn, including the citizens and Zenovia.”
Zenovia was the lord in charge of Marden. As the former princess of the royal family, she was appointed to marquess after swearing vassalage to Natra.
“Do you think she’ll betray us, Wein?”
In the past, she had concealed her identity when she accompanied Wein on his journey to Cavarin. He’d witnessed her sincerity firsthand, but…
“It’s possible,” he replied, nodding. “Zenovia and Marden are joined at the hip. If it’s for her former nation, she isn’t above launching sneak attacks or stabbing us in the back.”
“True. I mean, her allegiance was essentially a sneak attack.”
“See? And in the realm of politics, her vassals might pressure her into something. If it were me, I would plan to break away ASAP. This is just a fire waiting to happen.”
Marden was a new addition to Natra with enough clout to give the Arbalest family a run for its money. Many of the lords in Wein’s kingdom were wary of this territory.
For foreign spies, this was a golden opportunity. It was almost too easy to sow discord between Marden and the old guard of Natra, get them to attack each other, then go in for the kill once the two sides had worn themselves out.
What could they do about it?
“The heart of the issue stems from the surrounding regions. They can’t keep up with the rapid growth of Marden, which has led to some concerns that this economic gap will just keep widening,” Wein explained. “In other words, if we all grow at the same rate, we’ll be able to keep hold of the situation.”
“Makes sense. But how will you go about it?”
“Funny you should ask.” Wein snorted. “I’ve got nothing!”
Ninym massaged her temples.
“What did you expect me to do? If I had a magic spell to solve everything, I would have used it already!”
He was right, but she still frowned. “…But without it, our future looks bleak.”
“I knooow! Urgh! I wanted to savor this moment! Why can’t the problems just wait a little? You know, read the room!” Wein groaned. “Rrrrgh!”
Ninym looked at him from the corner of her eye, thinking aloud.
“Let’s see… What if you slowed down their boom and limited foreign business deals to stunt Marden’s growth?”
That would decelerate their development and effectively close the gap, but…
“No way!”
“I knew it.”
It might nip one problem in the bud, but it would come at the cost of their current success.
“In that case, we could find business partners outside of Marden.”
Ninym was right. If they could profit from other clients, it would prevent Marden from being the only region rising at a breakneck pace.
“Question is, who? Do we even have anyone who would be interested in doing business with us?”
“Yeah…” Ninym groaned, crossing her arms. Wein followed suit.
Someone knocked on the door. An official walked in.
“Pardon me, Your Highness. An emissary has arrived from Soljest Kingdom.”
“From Soljest?”
Wein and Ninym exchanged a look. Soljest was one of the nations that bordered Marden. Their king, Gruyere, was one of the Holy Elites.
“Yes. What shall I do?”
“…Tell them I’m coming. Show them to the reception room.”
“Understood.” The official retreated.
Ninym cocked her head to the side. “Soljest, huh… Maybe King Gruyere has something important he wants to discuss? Hey, Wein…Wein?”
She turned to him when he didn’t reply. Reflecting in her red pupils was his broad smile.
“—I’ve got a plan.”
Tholituke. Former capital of the Kingdom of Marden. Current capital of the Marden marquisate.
Elythro Palace had once been home to royalty. It now served as an administrative facility after undergoing major renovations.
It used to reflect the garish taste of King Fyshtarre and be known for serving no practical use. It had almost burned completely to the ground when Cavarin had attacked.
Even though it was an impractical edifice, it was still considered a symbol of the royal capital. Once the people reclaimed the land from Cavarin, they made plans to rebuild it as an administrative building, making sure it fit the budget and prioritizing functionality.
A man hurried down the new hallway.
Known as Jiva, he was distinctly round, serving originally as a diplomat of the Kingdom of Marden. He had joined the Liberation Army after the capital fell, and his patriotism and honest nature had won Zenovia’s trust. With the capital back in their hands, he now served as her right-hand man.
Jiva arrived at one of the palace offices. He caught his breath for a moment before knocking on the door. Someone groaned inside.
“I knew it…”
With a troubled expression, he opened the door, but he stopped before he stepped inside. A piece of paper had fallen in front of his feet.
When he looked up, he realized the entire floor was littered with documents and other reference materials. In fact, there was nowhere for him to stand. He started to pick up the papers at his feet, peering at the desk farther back in the room.
There was someone predictably planting their face on its surface.
“Lady Zenovia, please wake up. Lady Zenovia…!”
“Nngh…”
Rousing at his call, a young woman slowly peeled herself from the desk. Her hair was mussed from sleep. Wrinkles from the papers marked her face.
She was the master of the palace, former princess of Marden, and current marquess of Natra.
Zenovia.
“Oh…hello, Jiva. Is it morning already?” She looked at him through sleepy eyes.
“Hello? No time for hellos…!” Jiva reprimanded. “Did you pull an all-nighter reading papers again? I believe I’ve requested you sleep in your bedroom.”
“Yes, but…there was a section that was bothering me…”
“How many times will you use this excuse? And your hair… It’s quite something.”
Jiva looked exasperated as he beckoned more people from beyond the door. Ladies-in-waiting began to file in.
“Please draw a bath for Lady Zenovia.”
“Understood.”
“Ah, but I’m still in the middle of reading the papers from yesterday.”
“No ‘buts.’ You have a meeting today, and that necessitates you dressing up. What will your vassals think if you appear before them in your current state?”
The ladies-in-waiting started to drag Zenovia off to her bath as she received a scolding from Jiva.
He sighed.
A third party ventured to make a comment.
“—I’ve gotten used to seeing Lady Zenovia get hauled off.”
The speaker was a man in his prime. Based on his muscular body and clothing, it didn’t take more than one glance to realize he was someone from the military.
“Borgen, are you here to deliver your usual reports to Lady Zenovia?”
“Yeah. Bad timing, it seems. Ha-ha-ha.”
“This is no laughing matter, Borgen,” Jiva said to the man, shaking his head. “She’s destroying her body. Besides, we mustn’t forget she’s been forced into this position because we lack the competence to support her.”
“Ngh, you have a point. My bad,” Borgen replied, bowing his head.
He was one of the generals who had served Marden when it had still been a kingdom.
Borgen and Jiva went far back, and his archery skills were said to be the finest in the territory. Soldiers revered him as a man with a backbone, but that was also why he never got along with King Fyshtarre, which had landed him a post that left a lot to be desired.
After the capital fell, Borgen joined the Liberation Army led by Zenovia at Jiva’s request. As a military commander with real experience, he was currently serving alongside Jiva as one of the top leaders of the territory.
“In any case, Marden will not last in its current state without her to lead us. I wish she could focus on studying governmental affairs, but…”
“King Fyshtarre shunned her as much as he did me…”
Zenovia didn’t have any skills to write home about when it came to national politics. It would be a bit unfair to say this was due to her own willful negligence.
Born a prince, Wein had spent years receiving the education to rule as a monarch. On the other hand, Zenovia had been sent off to a villa away from the king, receiving virtually no education in politics. In other words, she lacked skill only because she hadn’t spent much time acquiring it.
This explained why she was trying to pick up the pace by studying government while simultaneously running it.
“As vassals, we should be supporting Lady Zenovia, especially now, but…”
“Still having trouble rounding up more people, Jiva?”
“Things don’t look too promising, though I guess I shouldn’t have expected otherwise.”
There just wasn’t enough human capital in Marden for it to resume operations.
After all, they’d been to hell and back. Their former king had abused his power. They’d lost a war with Natra. Launched by Cavarin, a surprise attack had swiped their capital from under their noses, and the liberation army had locked swords with their new rulers. They’d banded with Natra to reclaim their land, only for their former princess to promptly swear allegiance to their temporary ally.
This had been a disorienting rush of events for the residents of the territory. What misfortune would the new day bring? Even for those in positions of power, it was hard to say if they were making the right decision by serving this new government.
“And there’s still discord between those who left and those who stayed, even among the officers of the former kingdom.” Jiva’s expression turned dour.
During their short rule over Marden, Cavarin had tried to keep officials of this nation under their employ. As a result, these bureaucrats were left with three options: serve their new rulers, resist by joining the Liberation Army, or find another job altogether.
After Marden was freed, those in the Liberation Army were obviously the ones who gained distinction. Jiva and Borgen were appointed as chief leaders, and others were given distinguished positions within the territory. Those who hung around in Marden were called the “Remainers.”
Things were harder for those who chose to serve Cavarin. With the death of their new king and hints of political upheaval in their new home, they were starting to jump ship again, taking advantage of the revival in Marden to sneak back. However, the Remainers were cold toward these so-called “Returners.” From their perspective, they had tried to waltz back in after readily ditching their homeland.
“I guess accepting the Returners was a mistake? I can’t stand watching soldiers bicker, much less civil officers.”
“There was no way around it. They have critical insight into operating the territory. We’d be in over our heads if we pushed them away. We can’t even find the people to train from the ground up. And we just don’t have the time.”
Borgen sighed. “Damn. We really can’t catch a break. I thought this was going to be the best time of my life, but here I am, thinking fondly of the time when shit was boring but easy.”
“Please don’t step down. I know my assessment might have been wrong, but we’d be done without you.”
“I know. I see Lady Zenovia working hard, even though she’s twenty years younger than me. I would never forgive myself if I just abandoned her.”
This was all that was keeping Marden together: vassals banding together under Zenovia, inspired by her work ethic, though she was sorely inexperienced.
It was the reason she had to stand before them, cheer them on, and act as an emotional pillar. Without her, the territory would fall to pieces.
“Besides, I can feel something in the air has changed since our economy improved. If we can get past this, I’m sure the world will be our oyster.”
Borgen was in charge of patrolling and supervising the territory. He was intimately familiar with the impact this had on people’s lives.
Jiva’s expression remained grave. “So things have shifted in our favor. But that brings the problem of surrounding areas in Natra.”
“Hm…I see your point. If Marden is the only one with new wealth, it could breed some animosity there. Especially since we’re new to their kingdom.”
“Precisely. Therefore—” Jiva stopped mid-sentence.
Zenovia had appeared down the hallway with her ladies-in-waiting.
“I’m back!”
No time had passed. She must have taken the quickest dip in the world.
It didn’t seem she’d spent much time getting dressed either. Her ladies-in-waiting fussed over her dress and attempted to wipe her dripping hair. Zenovia was too old to be doing this. Jiva looked to the heavens for help.
“Lady Zenovia…I believe I’ve mentioned that appearing before the vassals in this state is—”
“Don’t worry. I was sneaky in getting here.”
“That’s not the problem…!”
Storming after her, Jiva tried to give her a piece of his mind as they reentered the office.
Borgen interrupted. “Come on, Jiva. No need to raise your voice. She obviously can’t rest with things on her mind. If you care about her health, it would be better to help her finish her tasks than keep her from them.”
“Hmph…” Jiva groaned.
“Yeah. Tell him,” Zenovia said under her breath.
He whipped around to glare at her. She looked away, feigning innocence.
Jiva sighed. “…Fine. I’ll overlook it this time.”
“And next time?”
“There will be no next time,” he snapped.
Zenovia pouted before turning to Borgen.
“All right, Borgen. Let’s hear your report.”
“Please take a look at this.” He handed her a sheaf of documents.
She thumbed over them as she sank in her chair. They contained information obtained during the patrol rounds.
“Seems turmoil in our territory has subsided.”
“Yes. You were right to prioritize things to get the citizens to feel at peace. With the economy improving, it seems that has finally come to fruition.”
“I wasn’t sure how it would turn out, but it’s one thing off my plate.”
Zenovia couldn’t stop herself from breaking out into a smile, but it didn’t take long before she reined it back in.
“But being inattentive could lead to our downfall. Right, Jiva?”
“Yes. You’re correct.” He nodded. “If we continue to experience explosive growth, Natra won’t keep quiet. That could spell trouble for both of us.”
“…Which means we’ll have to sit down with them at some point.”
“About that. One of their emissaries has just arrived. They entrusted me with correspondence from Prince Wein.”
“From the prince?” Zenovia accepted the sealed letter from Jiva, giving it a once-over.
She was floored by its contents.
“It says His Highness plans to pay us a visit… Is this true?”
“Yes. We’ve received verbal confirmation from the emissary. It seems Prince Wein has been invited to attend a ceremony in Soljest. Since Marden is on his route there, he wishes to talk with us.”
“…And I don’t assume he’s coming to see the sights.”
“Right. I imagine he’s concerned about the friction between our two territories and wants to discuss it further.”
“That works for us. Jiva, prepare to receive them. Borgen, make sure the prince is guarded during his stay.”
“Yes!”
“As you wish.”
They bowed to her. Zenovia nodded at them before looking like she’d remembered something and springing to her feet.
“Where are you going, Lady Zenovia?” Jiva inquired.
“…I might take a long soak in the bath after all,” she replied awkwardly.
Something about her reaction was enough for him to understand. He nodded, smiling.
“I think that’s a great idea. We’ll take over your administrative duties. Please enjoy yourself to your heart’s content.”
“R-right. Well then, I’ll leave it to you.” Zenovia hurried out of the room.
Only the two remained. Borgen tilted his head and looked at Jiva. “What was that about?”
Jiva chuckled. “Lady Zenovia hasn’t completely abandoned her maidenly side. She can’t let herself look unsightly before Prince Wein.”
I see. Borgen smiled in understanding. “Well, we’ve got our hands full as our precious gem polishes herself.”
“Yes… But what are we going to do about this?” Jiva held out a separate sealed envelope.
“Another letter? Why didn’t you give it to Lady Zenovia?”
“Well, the sender might pose a little problem…”
Borgen could tell from his loaded statement that they weren’t on good terms. He asked a follow-up question.
“Who’s it from?”
Jiva’s eyes narrowed. “The Kingdom of Delunio.”
Late summer. Their stage was set in the North.
Three nations had announced their arrival: Natra. Soljest. Delunio.
In the vast northern lands, three kingdoms were quietly scheming to engage in a brutal battle.
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