Wortenia Senki (LN) - Volume 11 - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: A New War Beckons

It was afternoon and the sun was beginning to dip into the west. Having successfully delivered the caravan to its destination, Nelcius went to Baron Mikoshiba’s estate, at the heart of Sirius.

A summons from the baron himself. It must be what he mentioned before.

When Alejandro had delivered the supplies two days ago, he’d updated Nelcius on Ryoma’s overall business as of late. Ryoma had probably called Nelcius to get a final confirmation on the matter.

Not that I can very well refuse, but...

Nelcius didn’t see this as a favorable proposal, but it wasn’t an absurd demand he could easily refuse. He did understand Ryoma’s intentions, and he knew this was the best possible option to achieve them.

But this isn’t a decision I can make on my own. I’ll need at least another month.

There were a total of seven elven tribes in Wortenia. Nelcius was seen as a hero of elvenkind, and he was the leader of a warrior tribe, so he had a significant say when it came to collective decision making. But he wasn’t a dictator. If it was just his own clan, he might have been able to make those kinds of decisions, but he couldn’t do that when the outcome would affect all the elves on the peninsula.

As Nelcius entered the room, his expression understandably hardened thinking of the negotiations ahead of him. In contrast, Ryoma sat on the sofa opposite him with a serene, friendly expression. His casual attitude was perhaps thanks to the confidence his superior position granted him. Either way, Ryoma was the one to begin speaking.

“I appreciate you coming all the way here. Laura, pour Nelcius some tea, would you?”

“As you wish, Master Ryoma.” Laura curtsied and reached for the porcelain pot sitting on a nearby cart. The tea had already brewed, and she poured it with practiced motions. She then set the steaming porcelain cup on the table, as well as a silver platter carrying some tea cookies.

Nelcius nodded his thanks and brought the cup to his lips. He suddenly narrowed his eyes. It wasn’t that the tea was bad; the aroma was impeccable. Nelcius had ordered a tea set from Alejandro and had made his own attempts at brewing tea. Through trial and error, he’d learned how to do it quite well, but as it turned out, he was no match for Laura. But this tea was more sour, more refined, and more distinctive than anything he’d had before. It definitely needed something else to go with it. It didn’t taste bad per say, but not everyone would appreciate it. It wasn’t the kind of tea one would usually serve to guests.

Based on past experience, Nelcius believed Ryoma served him this particular blend for a reason.

Meaning... Nelcius’s gaze fell to the platter of cookies sitting next to his cup. He took one and brought it to his lips. Oh, these have dried fruit kneaded into them. This is delectable.

A moderate, restrained sweetness spread in his mouth. He’d been called to tea a few times before, but he’d never had something with dried fruit like these cookies.

“It’s good,” Nelcius said honestly, his stiff expression softening.

It wasn’t just sweet. Every crunchy bite was accompanied by the soft texture of the fruit, resulting in a satisfying contrast. Nelcius then took another sip of his tea.

I see, yes. So that’s why they chose this blend.

Ryoma had served this bitter tea alongside these cookies in a calculated decision to surprise Nelcius. It was something of a little prank.

Simply serving a new blend wouldn’t be refreshing enough. He’s as well-prepared as ever, I see.

People could grow used to anything, for better or for worse. The same held true for demi-humans like Nelcius. Even the most exciting experience grew dull on the second and third reiteration. With this in mind, Ryoma had prepared a more unique blend to pique Nelcius’s interest.

Realizing his intention, Nelcius gave a satisfied nod as he turned to look at Laura. Her master had provided him with a conversation topic. As the guest, he had an obligation to go along with it.

“The aroma is wonderful, thanks to your skillful brewing. It’s very refreshing. And the bitterness spreads on the tongue and helps wash down the cookie’s sweetness. I’m ignorant when it comes to tea, but is this some kind of famous blend?”

“You’re too kind, Sir Nelcius,” Laura said, bowing her head. “This is a blend called Bandark, native to the Holy Qwiltantia Empire.”

“Bandark, you say... It’s distinctive but pleasurable. I’d love it if you could spare a bit for me to take back to the village.”

Apparently, Nelcius enjoyed the flavor very much. His demeanor wasn’t normally very pleasant, but he was acting quite frivolously right now.

“Of course,” Ryoma said with a satisfied smile. “If you like it, you can have a crate or two to take home with you. We can’t thank you and your village enough. Your elven products have made Simone’s business flourish quite a bit.”

A smile played over Nelcius’s lips. The Christof Company’s business dealings, which were spearheaded by the Mikoshiba barony, were very much relevant and pertinent information for Nelcius.

“That’s good to hear. I suppose I’ll take you up on that offer and take those crates with me.”

“Yes, help yourself. Oh, and we purchased some cacao from the southern continent the other day and used it to make chocolate. We have some put aside for you to take home as a gift for your village, so you can take that with you too.”

Nelcius’s eyes positively lit up. Chocolate, much like other confections that used sugar, was so rare in the western continent that even royalty didn’t eat them often. In this world, sweets were a rarity, and things like chocolate sold for even higher than spices and sugar. Its raw material, cacao beans, were quite hard to come by. Cacao trees required ground with good drainage and routine rainfall to grow, as well as an appropriate level of humidity. The only lands that fulfilled all of those conditions were located in the central continent and the northern reaches of the southern continent.

What’s more, cacao beans on their own couldn’t be refined into chocolate. To make chocolate, one needed to gather hard cacao pods from the tree and collect the seeds and pulp extract from within them. Those were then roasted to produce cacao powder, which was mixed with milk and sugar to create chocolate.

The process was taxing, especially by hand. Nelcius wasn’t privy to those details, but he did realize members of the royalty were just about the only ones on this continent who could enjoy chocolate. Receiving such a luxury item for free was very indicative of the financial success the Mikoshiba barony was experiencing.

“Oh! Chocolate, you say? But I hear that’s a very expensive product. Are you sure I can have it?” Nelcius asked.

Needless to say, Nelcius was very excited to receive this gift. He’d had it during past tea parties. But the rich, distinctive taste made from real cacao beans had captivated not just Nelcius. Elves that had visited Sirius were always shaken up by it. Refusing to bring some back when given the choice to do so would result in unwanted problems. The elves coveted chocolate about as much as cigarettes and fine alcohol.

However, the quantity Ryoma offered for free didn’t sit well with Nelcius. His elven honor was a factor, but he also worried that jumping on such opportunities would make it seem like elves were easy to take advantage of. That could make future transactions harder for them.

Ryoma understood his concerns, though. “Don’t worry about it. Dilphina helped us a great deal during the last war. Given all you’ve done for us, this doesn’t even begin to repay the favor.”

The casual mention of his daughter’s name served to stroke Nelcius’s ego and allowed him to save face. Ryoma did have a way with words, and Nelcius had no choice but to accept the present.

“I suppose I must oblige, then,” Nelcius said, bowing his head to Ryoma in gratitude.

“Like I’ve said, you’ve been a great help to us. Besides, if it’ll dispel some of the aversion your people have for us humans, then I couldn’t wish for anything else.” Ryoma smiled, reaching for his own teacup.

“Yes...” Nelcius said with a sigh. “I’ll admit that when you offered peace between us and the humans, I doubted it was possible. But now I see that we both profit from your idea.”

In the end, Nelcius believed he was right to accept Ryoma’s offer. Had they continued to stubbornly refuse mingling with the humans, the elves of Wortenia might not have had a future.

Ryoma nodded and said, “Given everything you went through before, who can blame you?”

The elves’ history was one of suffering. Their defeat in the holy war centuries ago drove Nelcius and his people from their homeland. No one but them could even imagine the predicament they’d had to live through. And while the elves struggled to bear children, they lived longer than other races. Many of the elven warriors still remembered their battles against the humans, much like Nelcius. Such senior warriors were given important positions, like serving as the chiefs for clans or leading hunting parties. Their enmity toward mankind was understandable.

“Yes. As you say, many of my people were quite fixated on the past. Things are changing, however. Because of trade with your city and the new goods it brings, we are changing our ways.”

Splendid, Ryoma thought, grinning. Alejandro told me the same thing, but the elves really are softening up. That’s exactly what I need.

Ryoma had no desire in particular to exploit the elves. He wasn’t going to buy their merchandise for cheap and sell his wares to them for ridiculous rates, nor did he intend to force unreasonable sums on them. Even without such lowly tactics, trading with the elves brought Ryoma great profit.

He hadn’t been lying earlier when he’d said that Simone’s business was flourishing thanks to the elves. However, he hadn’t been entirely truthful about it either. It wasn’t just flourishing, and “quite a bit” didn’t begin to describe the degree of its success. Her business was outright booming.

By now, Simone had over twenty trade cogs in her possession, each ship costing several tens of thousands of gold coins. To Ryoma’s surprise, Simone had said she still didn’t have enough ships and was planning on purchasing more. At first, she only had two cogs, but that number had increased tenfold. Only a few companies in Myest’s city of Pherzaad, a great trading port, had that many ships sailing the seas. True, Ryoma’s scheme to profit off the O’ltormean-Xaroodian war by selling provisions at inflated prices had been disrupted by unforeseen interference. That did make a considerable dent in their profits. But overall, the Christof Company was doing extremely well.

The only real problem had been the elves’ aversion to humans. Hearing that their view of mankind was improving was exceptionally good news as far as Ryoma was concerned.

“Really? That’s good to hear,” Ryoma said. “That kind of mutual benefit contributes to good relations in the long run.”

“Quite right, Lord Mikoshiba.”

The two looked at each other and laughed.

Nelcius then bowed his head. “Incidentally, this may be overdue, but welcome back from your dispatch to Xarooda, Lord Mikoshiba. I’m relieved to find you safe and sound.”

Ryoma nodded. “Thank you. I fulfilled Her Majesty’s orders and stopped O’ltormea’s invasion.”

This was an exemplary, almost prescribed sort of reply. Nelcius understood this perfectly well, but the problem was what came next.

“Yes. My daughter told me of what happened. However...” Nelcius directed a probing glance at Ryoma. If possible, he’d have preferred to let the topic rest here, but he knew that wouldn’t happen. His only choice was to accept what was to come. Ryoma wasn’t dense enough to mistake the intention of Nelcius’s gaze either.

Ryoma shrugged and heaved a tired sigh. “Well, there’s still unfinished business.”

There was no need to ask what he meant. Had Nelcius not known it ahead of time, he wouldn’t have asked Ryoma to begin with.

“Yes. I do believe you’ve done the most you could given your position, but the outcome was still far from satisfactory.”

Having spent centuries isolated from the outside world, Nelcius was somewhat detached from the mindset and customs of human society. But demi-humans were quite similar to humans when it came to emotions. And when it came to war, conflicts that spanned nations were essentially the same as feuds between villages.

When Dilphina had given her detailed report on the events of the war, Nelcius had realized just how precariously Xarooda was teetering on the cusp of destruction.

I don’t intend to recklessly interfere, but...

If he could avoid getting involved in this matter, he would very much prefer to do so. But Nelcius realized that based on what Ryoma decided, he might have to prepare for the worst. In a manner of speaking, Nelcius had already decided, but this was still a question he had to ask.

“Lord Mikoshiba, do you intend to conquer the ten houses of Rhoadseria’s northern territories?”

Ryoma’s lips curled upwards. “Yeah. From the looks of things, they’re not keen on playing nice with me.”

“I see. I’ve heard as much from Master Boltz and Master Igasaki. While you were away in Xarooda, the ten houses sent adventurers and spies time and again to gain information on the peninsula, right?”

“That’s right,” Ryoma said, shrugging. “You know, this whole affair taught me a lesson. Nobles can be sneaky bastards in their own right. Not that I can’t understand why they’re doing it.”

“Which is to say?” Nelcius asked.

“The way they see it, I was a mercenary of unknown origins. I wasn’t even a citizen of Rhoadseria. But one way or another, I ended up helping Queen Lupis Rhoadserians at the right time, and it changed everyone’s fates. The nobles aren’t happy Lupis won the war, and they want to kill me for enabling her to do so. Even if I didn’t really do it by choice...”

Ryoma sighed. He hadn’t helped Queen Lupis because he wanted to. He’d gone from a normal high school student in Japan to being summoned to O’ltormea by Gaius Valkland. He’d killed Gaius and earned his freedom, but he was still under pursuit from one of the continent’s three greatest countries. In most cases, his only options would have been to settle down and live in hiding in the middle of nowhere or to cross over to another continent. But at the time, Ryoma had been occupied with finding a way back home. It was then that certain schemes unfortunately forced him to take a compulsory request in the port city of Pherzaad, which had derailed all of his plans.

The request had ended in an attack led by Mikhail, Queen Lupis’s attendant, who’d thought he was going after the late King Pharst II’s illegitimate child, Radine Rhoadserians. Learning he’d been forcibly embroiled in Rhoadseria’s succession war, Ryoma had realized he needed to place Lupis on the throne if he was to defend himself and the Malfist sisters.

“Yes, you were an unfortunate victim, caught up in the whole affair. Queen Lupis should bear responsibility for everything. But the nobles who pulled the short straw can’t help but begrudge you.”

Ryoma nodded. The civil war had overturned the power balance among the nobles of Rhoadseria. Those who’d been treated poorly before were now receiving preferential treatment, while those who had been favored were subjected to misfortune.

This world operated by the law of the jungle. The nobles now at the bottom had to watch as the ones they’d once trampled on exacted revenge on them. But even if that was an undeniable truth, people couldn’t forgive those who hurt their profits.

That was especially true for nobles who’d been close to the former Duke Gelhart’s faction. Members of the neutral faction were now seeking revenge. Those who were simply driven out of their posts were lucky. Some lost all their assets, and some lost their entire household over trumped-up charges.

Over a decade had passed since the former Duke Gelhart had purged Duke Ernst’s household, during which the neutral faction had been spurned by the nobles’ faction. The pain and humiliation was still fresh in the neutral nobles’ memories, and now that their positions were reversed, they took their chance to exact revenge.

Queen Lupis’s inaptitude as a ruler only made the problems more pronounced. The fact that she did nothing to stop the neutral faction from lashing out made the nobles’ faction resent her all the more.

But for all her faults, Lupis Rhoadserians was still Rhoadseria’s rightful sovereign. It might have been different before she officially inherited the throne, but publicly slandering the rightful queen’s name required a great deal of courage. And Ryoma Mikoshiba’s actions were what had jump-started this whole state of affairs. With a convenient scapegoat in the form of a newly appointed baron dangling right in front of them, it was only natural those disgruntled nobles would take their frustration out on him.

“Plus, I had the Igasaki clan investigate, and they discovered quite a few disturbing things.”

Nelcius eyed Ryoma curiously. “Such as?”

“I don’t know if it was intentional or just a coincidence, but there are signs that indicate that people from Lupis’s side are purposefully agitating the nobles.”

“To get them to lash out at you?”

Ryoma nodded heavily. A long silence settled between the two of them, which only broke when Nelcius groaned and shook his head.

“It stands to reason. You stick out, so they try to beat you down. I’ve heard human nobles abhor those who move up in the world. But to Queen Lupis, you’re the distinguished vassal who installed her on the throne. You even saved Xarooda from its plight. I cannot understand why she would hand you over like a sacrifice...”

“Well, you know what they say. Once you win the war, you can kill off your victorious soldiers. From where Lupis is standing, she probably thinks she repaid me in full by making me a baron and giving me the peninsula. She might have a bit of a guilty conscience, but that’s about it.”

“So you think this isn’t the queen’s will?”

“In all likelihood, it’s not...”

Ryoma didn’t think Queen Lupis was vile or vicious—quite the contrary. Lupis Rhoadserians was good-natured to a fault. She was intelligent too. If nothing else, she had been wise enough to see the civil war coming and knew to place herself under Ryoma’s command.

Most nobles or royals would have never accepted Ryoma’s plan. Some might have even ordered his execution for the sheer nerve of making such an absurd proposal. And while she did break her promise to Ryoma, giving him a title was her way of making up for it. She wasn’t ungrateful by nature.

Ryoma certainly harbored a grudge and some ill will toward Queen Lupis, but he wasn’t going to claim she was completely lacking in good qualities. However, he would hesitate to say she was a suitable ruler. A sovereign stood at the top of the country and was charged with making its decisions. Had Ryoma been in her position, he wouldn’t have treated someone like himself as indecisively as she had. He’d have either executed that person, despite how ungrateful it might have made him seem, or elevated them to an even higher position, the nobles’ resistance be damned. Of course, his decision would have depended on that person’s nature and the circumstances of the situation. Perhaps he’d have even chosen a third path. Either way, one couldn’t rule a country if they feared ill repute.

A part of politics is making things seem clean and proper.

In that regard, Lupis was by far the worst possible person to serve as ruler. She had neither the pluck to cover up her mistakes nor the resolve to discard those close to her when need be. This bought her the undying loyalty of knights like Meltina and Mikhail, but in the end, those traits only ended up backfiring on her.

“Who did it, then?” Nelcius asked. “Viscount Gelhart?”

“That’s a possibility, but...” Ryoma shook his head.

“I see...” Nelcius said, nodding.

Viscount Gelhart was indeed the type of person to stealthily agitate his rivals to make them tear each other apart. Among the nobles of Rhoadseria, Gelhart was especially obsessed with noble status and loathed those who moved up the social ladder. Since Ryoma was the direct cause of his fall from grace, he’d certainly hate him enough to want to see him dead. But while he might have sent assassins to dispose of Ryoma, he wouldn’t need to turn the nobles’ faction’s ire from Queen Lupis to Ryoma.

In exchange for his title and the arable southern lands of Heraklion, Furio Gelhart’s death sentence had been pardoned. But still, he was the ringleader of the civil war, and Queen Lupis and her court regarded him as an enemy. Currently, the O’ltormean-Xaroodian war was all that occupied the minds of Rhoadseria and the surrounding countries. The country’s new regime hadn’t been properly reorganized yet. It would come as little surprise if Gelhart were stripped of his noble title or if his entire clan were executed for his past transgressions.

In other words, Queen Lupis and Viscount Gelhart were still very much in a state of hostile antagonism. And Gelhart knew this perfectly well. In fact, the viscount was trying to once again consolidate the nobles’ faction and rally his political power. He would have little incentive to incite the nobles’ faction against Ryoma in particular. Allowing things to run their course was far more preferable; going out of his way would only risk drawing suspicion to himself.

That reasoning narrowed down the list of possible suspects.

Out of Queen Lupis’s aides, I can only see one of them doing this.

Ryoma was politically affiliated with Queen Lupis’s clique, at least as far as the palace’s political map was concerned. In truth, he was more of an independent faction of his own. He was a noble of Rhoadseria, but he wasn’t under the queen’s control.

Among the court, there were two people who particularly disliked him: Meltina Lecter and Mikhail Vanash. Both had served Queen Lupis since her infancy, and she regarded them as her most trusted subordinates. But while their skill as knights was considerable, they were lacking in foresight, and Ryoma had trouble believing either of them could come up with a plan that relied so heavily on the manipulation of others. Despite this, Ryoma was convinced it was them for some reason.

They went through that much shame and agony. They’d have to learn their lesson sooner or later...

Meltina and Mikhail had both tried to stampede through the civil war by relying on their martial prowess and sense of duty, but they were only humiliated time and again. Apparently, that repeated shame taught them that not all problems could be solved with brute strength.

Ryoma didn’t know which of them came up with this plot, but he had no doubt either Meltina or Mikhail was behind it.

Well, I guess I can’t dismiss the possibility that it’s that mysterious faction old Julianus warned me about. Either way, if I don’t do something, things are only going to go downhill for me.

The Wortenia Peninsula was a natural fortress, and sealing off the base would bar most attempts at entry. Entering by ship was possible, but of the three countries of the east, only Myest had a strong navy. The sovereign of the north, the Kingdom of Helnesgoula, had a navy as well, but it was occupied with fighting the O’ltormean Empire and the Holy Qwiltantian Empire. It was too distracted to go to the trouble of invading Wortenia.

With that in mind, holing up inside the peninsula wasn’t a bad idea. But Ryoma would earn nothing by merely withdrawing and hardening his defenses. Sooner or later, someone would inevitably force their way into Wortenia.

And that’s why I have to usurp control of Rhoadseria’s north.

Thankfully, his preparations were complete to some extent. All that remained was this final negotiation with Nelcius.

“And that’s why I called you here, Nelcius.”

Nelcius heaved a deep sigh. A moment later, he solemnly parted his lips. “To discuss my people’s position in your future domain. Am I right, Lord Mikoshiba?”

Ryoma gave a slow, earnest nod.

♱

That evening, Ryoma beckoned five visitors into his office.

“Thanks for coming over,” he said once they’d entered.

All five bowed their heads at once. Kevin stood at the front of the group, with Melissa and Leon to his left, and Rina and Annette to his right.

“We’re honored to see you, milord,” Kevin said on behalf of the group. “We were told the call was urgent, but...”

His words were careful and stiff, but they didn’t sound unnatural. Considering they’d started off as slaves, they had become quite disciplined. Still, Ryoma thought that Kevin’s speech was a bit exaggerated, almost anachronistic. This world had set rules and etiquette for speaking to nobility, but seeing Kevin’s downcast gaze as he acted accordingly brought a cynical smile to Ryoma’s lips. He ordered the five to stand.

I’d like to find a way to simplify all these formalities, but... Some other time, I suppose.

Etiquette changed with time and the shifting of society. Even if Ryoma felt it was outdated, they still had to abide by those rules. He could have ordered Kevin to do away with the formalities, but any other noble would have taken offense, even demanding that such a disrespectful servant be beheaded for it. Ryoma knew this, so he had ordered Laura and the others to teach the child soldiers etiquette once they were freed of their slave status. It still grated on Ryoma’s personal sensibilities, though. The habits he’d fostered in the decade and a half he’d spent in his home world were hard to break.

There were more important things to prioritize right now, though.

“Before I give you your next orders, I need to confirm something. I heard the injuries you sustained in Xarooda have healed already, but is everything all right?”

All five bowed their heads again.

“Yes. I injured my left hand during the battle for Fort Notis, but I’ve fully recovered thanks to the elven nostrums,” Kevin replied. “The other four had different injuries of varying degrees, but they’ve all recovered as well.”

Ryoma gave a satisfied nod.

I see. Given enough time, the nostrums can even heal severe injuries that were potentially beyond recovery. Even if it must be applied quickly, along with a few other limitations, that elven medicine is amazing. I’d heard medicine in this world was pretty primitive, but stuff like this is legitimately impressive.

Ryoma had been informed of their injuries ahead of time. During the battle for Fort Notis, an O’ltormean soldier cut through Kevin’s arm, nearly severing it altogether. But a mere few months later, it had healed almost entirely. That was a miracle that Japan’s medicine could never hope to imitate.

In Ryoma’s world, there were cases of automobile accidents that resulted in severed limbs. Hospitals did attempt to reattach them, but that assumed the injuries only extended to broken bones or torn muscles. If a tendon or a nerve were severed, a patient would be lucky if they didn’t need an amputation. Connecting a nerve was possible, restoring sensation in the limb, but in most cases it was rejected by the body and became much less responsive.

There were methods to prevent rejection, but those depended on the skill of the surgeon and other factors—how much time had passed since the injury occurred, whether it was cooled with ice, etc. But in cases of an accident, it took a great deal of luck for any of those conditions to turn out favorably for the victim. Even if the operation were successful, it would require extensive rehabilitation that would often see some mobility restored, but not on the same level as before the accident.

Things were a little different in this world, but not in terms of actual medical treatment. Without thaumaturgy, the medicine in this world was on par with medieval remedies, or at best, early modern times. Doctors who’d been summoned from Rearth led to the discovery of bacteria, but some physicians still didn’t sterilize tools by boiling. Standards here were understandably low.

But with thaumaturgy in the picture, things are pretty different.

Boltz had been the first to tell Ryoma of this. During Rhoadseria’s civil war, Ryoma and Lione, who had only recently met, held a banquet to deepen their friendship. As Ryoma and Boltz drank, Boltz told Ryoma of his past and how he came to join Lione’s Crimson Lion group. Boltz also mentioned elven medicine—nostrums, as they were called.

Elven nostrums were said to be highly effective, capable of not just closing fatal wounds, but also of regenerating lost limbs if applied correctly. Perhaps some of it was exaggeration, but Ryoma thought that if even half of these claims were true, it would still be incredibly useful.

The only problem was that this magical elf medicine was as good as conjecture if one couldn’t obtain it. Due to the holy war between mankind and elvenkind, the elves had been driven to near extinction. Rumor had it that those who’d survived took refuge in hidden enclaves on faraway undeveloped lands.

Even if Ryoma were to find elves, it was highly unlikely they’d share their medicine with a human. One would have to venture into an elf enclave, defeat a skilled elven warrior who might be carrying such a nostrum, and snatch it from their dead fingers. Needless to say, such a method was risky and unsustainable. One could try to purchase elven medicine with money, but the price would make a dent in even a wealthy king’s treasury.

But of all the royals and nobles who held authority in the western continent, there was only one man with a steady supply of elven nostrums—Ryoma Mikoshiba. He was the governor of the Wortenia Peninsula and a friend to Nelcius, the chief of an elven warrior tribe.

Still, it’s not like it can heal absolutely any wound.

From what Nelcius had told him, elven nostrums had their limitations. Firstly, it took a great deal of time, effort, and rare ingredients to produce them. In addition, they had no effects on diseases, only wounds. In cases like Kevin’s, where the arm was still attached, it would only take weeks to heal. But if a limb were fully severed, it would take over a year’s worth of treatment to restore full mobility.

Nelcius could have been withholding information, of course, but Ryoma suspected this was roughly accurate. Besides, if the elves had truly had large supplies of medicine that could heal any wound or malady, they would have had an overwhelming advantage when fighting humans. Any injury that didn’t result in instant death could be healed at once. As numerically inferior as the demi-humans were, they still would have been able to fight mankind equally with that kind of edge.

Despite this, the demi-humans had lost the war and were forced to relinquish their homes to the humans. Their defeat meant either the nostrum’s effects were too diminutive to make a difference, or there was too little of it to give the demi-humans an advantage. Considering that, Ryoma felt that Nelcius’s claims that the elves couldn’t produce large quantities of the nostrum were true and that the rumors of its effectiveness had been exaggerated.

That’s a shame. I’d imagined the kind of magic elixir you see in video games, the kind that heals all injuries at once. Ryoma smiled bitterly at his own shallowness. Still, when you couple that with the elves’ thaumaturgically endowed weapons and armor, this should give us a major advantage.

Though the elven medicine had its limitations, none of the surrounding nations had any medical techniques that could match the nostrum’s healing powers. Having access to it gave Ryoma an overwhelming edge.

“That’s good,” Ryoma replied. “Speaking of, what about the others who returned from Xarooda? Do they have any problems?”

“What do you mean, sir?” Kevin asked, furrowing his brows. It seemed he didn’t quite understand what Ryoma was getting at.

“I mean, we just went to Xarooda as reinforcements. Since we weren’t allowed to pillage, you didn’t get much reward. I was hoping I could repay you for your efforts somehow, so I was wondering how you felt about that...especially since I want to ask you to do some pretty annoying work.”

Kevin seemed to have realized Ryoma’s meaning and shook his head sadly. “Are you doubting our loyalty, milord? Do you think we’re displeased with you?” He gazed into Ryoma’s eyes, his expression stiff. “You freed us from slavery and gave us new lives, and we swore unending fealty to you, milord. If...if you suspect us of even the slightest disloyalty, order me to end my life here and now. I will gladly do it if it will prove my allegiance to you.”

Kevin drew the sword at his waist and held it against his neck. In Ryoma’s world, Kevin’s words and actions would have been far too anachronistic. While one might throw a tantrum and threaten to cut their stomach open, no one would expect them to actually go through with it. But as Kevin stood stoically in place, his blade pressed against his neck, his eyes showed he was intent on proving his loyalty.

Everyone else realized this too. Though he had drawn a sword, the twins, who were standing behind Ryoma, didn’t so much as stir. Melissa and the other soldiers standing by his side remained still as well.

He’s serious, huh?

Ryoma hadn’t expected this turn of events, and he hurriedly snatched the sword out of Kevin’s hands.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant! It’s just, you all worked so hard, putting your lives on the line, and you weren’t rewarded for it. It just didn’t feel right to me.”

Ryoma honestly meant what he’d said. But at the same time, he couldn’t deny Kevin’s comments had held some truth to them.

“I apologize for this shameful display,” Kevin said. Ryoma tapped his shoulder and shook his head slowly.

With the situation resolved, Ryoma heaved a sigh of relief.

Phew... That was scary. When I talked to Lione about this, she said I was worrying too much, but I was right.

Ryoma’s anxiety had been justified. In a sense, Kevin had been right when he’d said Ryoma didn’t trust in their loyalty to him. But it wasn’t so much that he suspected them to be disloyal; it was more that some small part of him was burdened with guilt.

Ryoma carried a great amount of guilt over his treatment of Kevin and the other child soldiers. He wasn’t worried about something as petty as restricting the amount of food they were given or deciding whether they were allowed to see doctors whenever they were injured or sick, though. In those regards, Ryoma treated his soldiers quite well.

No other noble on the western continent did as much for their soldiers as Ryoma did. For example, soldiers like Kevin, who’d joined the expedition to Xarooda, had been honored with a banquet to celebrate their achievements. They had also received a monetary reward for their service. Those funds would inevitably circulate back to Sirius’s economy, but Ryoma had honestly wanted to reward those who’d survived the harsh battles in Xarooda.

The sick and wounded soldiers had been treated with the nostrums they’d got from Nelcius, the best they could offer. Those who couldn’t make a full recovery had been given sizable pensions and assured of new employment should they choose to remain in Sirius. The city was still only halfway developed, after all, and there was no shortage of work.

This was unbelievably kind treatment in this world. The concepts of labor standards or welfare programs didn’t exist here, both legally and generally speaking. Even if such laws had existed, they would have been meaningless.

No matter how hard one looked, they wouldn’t find a noble who treated his soldiers this favorably. This wasn’t a matter of belief or creed, though. Ryoma was able to act this way because of the financial freedom afforded to him by the Christof Company’s vast profits. That was what enabled him to repay the services of his subordinates so generously.

Even though Ryoma treated his soldiers impeccably, he worried if he was doing enough in other ways. Unlike mercenaries, soldiers fought for more than profit. That wasn’t to say that monetary gain wasn’t a factor, but they prioritized the safety of their families and loyalty to their country.

Aside from the former mercenaries in his army, most of Ryoma’s soldiers had been bought from slavers. Most of them didn’t have families. Sometimes they had been sold off with their siblings, but that was a rare exception. In general, they didn’t have families to prioritize.

On top of that, Simone had gathered slaves from across the continent under the condition that they were all in their early teens. As a result, they all came from different countries. Some of them were even originally from the central or southern continents. Naturally, these slaves weren’t loyal to any one nation. For this reason, Ryoma had freed them from slavery and given them thorough educations in order to ensure their loyalty to him. They were taught to lay down their lives for their liberator. This was the path they’d chosen for themselves, out of true belief and conviction. One could say their education had produced its intended result.

However, Ryoma himself was still just short of twenty years old, and he couldn’t help worrying about the hearts and feelings of the people he knew personally. As old as his face looked and as daring as his attitude might be, he lacked crucial life experience. His anxiety was understandable.

But it seemed that Ryoma’s concerns were in vain.

Lione had told me about this, so I wasn’t worried per se, but they really are loyal.

He’d asked them what he did in order to confirm their loyalties, but looking at the faces of Kevin, Melissa, and the others, he realized that he’d been careless to doubt it.

But this is where the problematic part begins.

Ryoma had already constructed a plan for whittling down the ten houses of the northern territories. But in order to do that, he needed people who could mobilize for a long period of time—people who didn’t shirk away from dirty work. Many of the Igasaki clan’s ninjas were already occupied with securing the peninsula’s defenses, so Ryoma had considered who would make trustworthy spies. Kevin, along with his four companions, were the names that he’d eventually come up with.

“Then I’ll explain your next task. I need you to...prepare the groundwork for our takeover of northern Rhoadseria.”

All five bowed their heads.

“First, let me give you a rundown of the situation,” Ryoma said, beckoning them to the sofa by the window. Sara handed him a map, and he spread it out in front of Kevin. “This is a map of Rhoadseria. The area north of this point is called the northern regions.” Ryoma moved his finger around the top side of the map in a circle. “These northern regions are ruled by a group of nobles called the ten houses of the north. They’re led by House Salzberg, which governs over the Salzberg countship and the citadel city of Epirus.”

The five child soldiers nodded. This was common knowledge, even among the ordinary townsfolk. Still, Ryoma wanted to be thorough, so as to minimize unpredictable mistakes.

“Based on our position,” Kevin started, “if you want to take over the north, you’ll have to take Epirus no matter what. But that’s going to be a challenge.”

“Because toppling the city is going to be difficult?” Melissa asked. “We do have fewer soldiers, so it will be hard to take down the citadel by brute force. But resorting to starvation tactics isn’t wise, either...”

“That’s part of the issue,” Ryoma said, “but that’s not the entire problem.”

“Meaning...” Melissa trailed off.

Ryoma nodded. The points that Melissa had brought up were valid. The rule of thumb was that when attacking a fortress, one needed a force three times the garrison’s size. This theory had been called into question following research conducted by German soldiers after the First World War, but the idea behind it was quite clear.

Since fortresses relied on the surrounding terrain for defense and were equipped to intercept the enemy, they often had the advantage. Because of this, it had been established that to successfully besiege a fortress, the attacker needed a force three times that of the garrison. But the question of whether three times was the right amount was subject to debate.

Sun Tzu’s The Art of War claimed that one needed ten times the enemy’s number to surround them and five times their number to launch an attack. If one only had the same number of troops or less, they were to retreat. Of course, the society and environment of Sun Tzu’s time were wildly different from post-WW1 Germany, and Sun Tzu’s advice applied more to field warfare. Either way, it was fairly evident that the side hiding inside the fortress had the advantage, even if it wasn’t guaranteed they’d win the war.

With that in mind, Ryoma had to consider the size of his forces compared to Count Salzberg’s. At present, Ryoma had three thousand soldiers within the city of Sirius. This number was thanks to Simone’s acquisition of more slaves during Ryoma’s absence and Boltz’s training. In addition to their number, Ryoma’s forces were all trained warriors who could use martial thaumaturgy. This placed him on equal footing with the former Duke Gelhart. Count Salzberg had Epirus, the largest citadel city in northern Rhoadseria, under his command, but he couldn’t possibly possess more troops than Duke Gelhart had in his prime. That alone didn’t mean Ryoma could beat Count Salzberg’s forces, though.

“The first issue is that if we attack Epirus, Count Salzberg will call the other ten houses of the north for reinforcements.”

A baron in Rhoadseria typically only controlled a single village. Depending on the size of their domain, they would have somewhere between one hundred and one hundred and fifty knights in their service. In case of a war, they could conscript the commoners to form an army of roughly six hundred men. Viscounts controlled multiple villages and a larger number of knights compared to a baron. They had two hundred to three hundred knights under their employ, and with their conscripts, they could raise an army of one thousand men.

This time, however, Ryoma was going up against a count, who had five hundred knights in his service. If Count Salzberg were to gather conscripts from all the villages in his domain, he could amass an army of several thousand men. But the real problem was that he was also the leader of the ten houses of the north and had six barons and three viscounts under his banner.

Compared to each individual noble, Ryoma had the largest armed force in the area. He also had more knights. But if the ten houses of the north were to all gather inside Epirus’s walls, his army wouldn’t have the power to beat them down. And if Ryoma were to surround Epirus and try to starve them out, then other nobles outside of the ten houses might become a problem. House Salzberg was a warrior house that had supported the Rhoadserian royal family since the country’s founding, so it wasn’t without allies.

At present, House Salzberg was estranged from the royal family, but they did have a long history of guarding Rhoadseria’s north. They also had a number of connections within the aristocracy. So while it was unlikely that the nobles in the south would send troops, because of the distance, nobles from the east and west could very well dispatch their armies to help Count Salzberg.

“And there are other concerns at play,” Laura added.

She took out a book from one of the shelves behind her and opened it next to the map. It was a thick leather tome made of paper—an expensive material. The book was quite bulky too. Laura, however, leafed through the pages with practiced motions and quickly found the passage she was looking for. She then slid the book over to Kevin and the rest, so they could see it more easily.

“This book lists Rhoadseria’s laws,” Laura explained. “And if you look at this article...”

“A prohibition on waging private wars...” Kevin groaned, looking at the line Laura was pointing to. “I see. So that’s what you mean.”

When factions that weren’t considered countries engaged in warfare for personal reasons, it was considered a private war. In Japan, Hideyoshi Toyotomi had prohibited battles between warlords. Nobunaga Oda planned to bring an end to Japan’s Warring States period. His protégé Toyotomi helped pave the way for that. He was succeeded by Ieyasu Tokugawa, who finally succeeded in unifying Japan. The initial cause of that period was the Onin War, a power struggle between two warlords by the names of Katsumoto Hosokawa and Sozen Yamana over the succession of the title of Shogun of the Muromachi shogunate. This time in Japanese history demonstrated why private wars were forbidden—a country can’t function when those in power squabble over territory.

In this world, all proper countries strictly forbade their nobles from conducting private wars. This wasn’t just a recommendation; it was binding, punishable law. If one were to break that law in the Kingdom of Rhoadseria, the kingdom would bring all its power to bear and exact justice on the culprit. Both noble houses would be stripped of their power, and their entire clans and their vassals would be executed. Breaking this law was the same as refusing to obey Rhoadseria’s laws.

“Yeah, we have to do something about this or we’ll be publicly branded as traitors who oppose Rhoadseria,” Ryoma said.

A heavy chill settled over the office. Everyone regarded that single sentence as a major obstacle standing in the way of the Mikoshiba barony’s future.

Annette, however, seemed to regard it differently. “But, milord, you’re not just going to go along with what the law says, are you?”

“What makes you say that?” Ryoma asked with a smile.

Annette grinned brightly. “You wouldn’t have called us here if you’d given up on fighting.”

Ryoma burst into a rolling laughter that filled the office.

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” he said, still chuckling as Kevin and the other three regarded him curiously. “You’re right, that law isn’t going to stop me from going to war. After all, we’re talking about fighting the people who took advantage of the fact I was in Xarooda to pester us.”

The smile on Ryoma’s lips turned vicious. The ten houses of the north hadn’t really caused any harm by sending in spies. Ryoma had predicted that Count Salzberg might do just that and had taken measures to prevent him from succeeding. And the spies did serve as good practice dummies for the children training to become ninjas. But that didn’t mean Ryoma was happy that spies had been trying to sneak into his domain and snoop into his affairs during his absence.

“But...what are you going to do then, milord?” Kevin asked.

Sara, who was standing behind Ryoma, said, “First, we’re going to take advantage of Rhoadseria’s poor public order and cause an uprising within the kingdom.”

The child soldiers swallowed nervously. From the moment they had been called here in secret, they’d known they would be taking on a questionable task. But this was more dangerous than they’d expected. If this matter were to be exposed, the Mikoshiba barony would be crushed.

Out of the five of them, only one remained unsurprised.

Rina, the girl who had so far listened wordlessly, asked, “You mean you want to spur the commoners to rise up in rebellion?” Her expression was completely blank.

“That’s right,” Ryoma answered. “At present, Queen Lupis’s regime is in a state of chaos. The nobles are keeping a careful eye on the situation and building up their armies to prepare for whatever may come. That includes the ten houses of the north.”

Ryoma continued explaining, filling in for Sara.

“So we use it to our advantage. First, we incite a rebellion to break out when it’s best for us. Then, we raise our army under the banner of restoring public order. Once we do, we reveal that they sent spies multiple times into the Wortenia Peninsula and built up their armies to rebel against the royal house. Then we can crush the ten houses under those pretenses.”

The plan wasn’t without reproach. It was definitely an evil plot. But the reality was that sometimes false pretenses could be seen as justice. One thing was certainly clear, however. If Ryoma was to protect the subordinates who trusted him, he had to eliminate Count Salzberg.

So, as if to spur himself on, Ryoma made his declaration.

“We have to chip away at Count Salzberg’s strength, so we’ll be aiming for three people. The first one is Lady Yulia Salzberg’s father, Zack Mistel. The other two are known as House Salzberg’s Twin Blades, Robert Bertrand and Signus Galveria!”

As Ryoma’s declaration filled the room, Kevin felt something like a heat wave emanate from Ryoma’s body and pass through his own. It was resolve, the iron will of a man who had faced countless enemies and always stood his ground. And at that moment, Kevin could hear the sound of history’s gears grinding as they were set in motion.