Wortenia Senki (LN) - Volume 11 - Chapter Ep

Epilogue

The history of the western continent had reached a major turning point. An incident that would go down in infamy began on one unassuming morning.

“Figuring that out is your job! Why do you think you were appointed? I’m not asking you whether you can do it, I’m telling you to get your people to work!”

In a room of the white castle that stood at the heart of Pireas, the Kingdom of Rhoadseria’s capital city, a woman’s shrill shout echoed through the room. The two sentinels stationed outside the door could hear her, the room’s owner, through the thick oak door. They exchanged glances and sighed deeply, as if to say, “Not again.”

It wasn’t that they disliked her. She’d gained the ruler’s trust in their youth, and her care and devotion for Rhoadseria’s people were known to many. But after hearing her shout almost every day, anyone would sigh heavily, even if those shouts weren’t directed at them.

She’s in a bad mood today...again, thought one of the guards as a bitter smile played on his lips. He struggled to recall a day when she’d been in a good mood. She’d accepted this job with a smile, but in the months that had passed since, she’d spent nearly every day shouting in that room.

“B-But Lady Lecter, y-you must understand. It’s not that we just s-stand around and do nothing...” a tall, thin man said to Meltina, sounding almost neurotic. He was obviously flustered. His forehead glistened with a nervous sweat.

Beside him stood a corpulent middle-aged man. His hefty gut hung over the waistline of his pants, and his greasy face and hair reflected the light in the room. He must have been quite stressed as well, because thick beads of sweat stained his silk shirt.

“He’s quite right, milady. As a matter of fact, there’s nothing we can do right now. Of course, should Her Majesty make a decision, it will solve all these issues. But the chances of that are slim. So for now, we should be careful, take our time, and make the allies we need little by little.”

The men grimaced, uttering reasons and excuses for their lack of results. They were not at all pleased that a younger person, and a woman at that, was shouting at them and bossing them around. Their appearances aside, they had served as low-ranking bureaucrats for many years and had taken part in countless matters. They had experience and the track record to match it. From their perspective, it was painfully evident that the results Meltina demanded from them were unrealistic.

How dare you holler at us, you whelp! You don’t know the first thing about politics! Who do you think you are?! You’re just one of the queen’s sycophantic lackeys! 

What a relief it would be to shout those words at her. But they suppressed the urge to ruthlessly lash out. They weren’t haughty, but they did have their dignity. They couldn’t help but feel outraged, especially since they honestly believed they weren’t at fault. Be that as it may, it didn’t mean they could take it out on Meltina. Whether they were right or wrong, it wasn’t a reason to break etiquette. Doing so would only negatively affect their future work.

But this is bad. How do we convince her? the younger man pondered.

In truth, they weren’t at fault for this. Queen Lupis’s reforms weren’t progressing as they should, and the fundamental reason for that was clear. Early on, these bureaucrats had proposed a countermeasure to both Meltina and her predecessor, a way to overcome resistance to the queen’s reforms. They’d both done everything they could within the scope of their role. If things didn’t turn out favorably even after that, no one could say they were at fault.

But whether Meltina Lecter would accept this reasoning was another matter altogether. And given her personality, the answer to that was already set in stone. She was the type to stubbornly cling to her idea of justice and turn a deaf ear to anything else. Worse yet, she could very well grow to hate anyone who questioned her ideals, seeing them as opponents trying to get in her way.

The two men exchanged a look, silently communicating those emotions to one another, and chose to remain quiet.

Meltina furrowed her shapely brows and rhythmically tapped her fingers on the desk. She must have been quite annoyed.

Take our time? That’s stupid. Do they seriously think we have that kind of time?

These two had been promoted after Queen Lupis’s rise to the throne. In terms of pedigree, they were just low-ranking nobles. They were known to be quite skilled among the younger core officials, but they wouldn’t normally hold such high positions. That changed after Lupis became queen.

Their appointments as high-ranking bureaucrats was entirely Queen Lupis’s will. And since Meltina was the queen’s closest aide, she believed that these two didn’t have the right to refuse any of her demands. Of course, whether they had the right was up for debate. Perhaps they didn’t. And if they wanted to keep their positions, they would need to do everything in their power to hold on to them. But Meltina forgot one fundamental thing. Regardless of whether they could refuse, it didn’t change the fact that they couldn’t do as she asked.

Meltina once again lashed out at them, saying, “Take our time? Don’t be foolish. How long are you going to keep saying that and squander away what little time we do have?!”

Quite some time had passed since Lupis Rhoadserians became queen and began her reforms. And it had already been several months since Meltina had been promoted to oversee those reforms.

But nothing has changed. Nothing at all.

Naturally, there had been changes. Everything had become comparatively worse. Even an amateur politician like Meltina could see that much.

In the months since she’d taken this post, Meltina had frantically gone about her duty. She knew what the problems were, and she even knew how to address them. But her position didn’t allow her that authority, and she feared that everything would crumble to dust if she admitted that.

And so Meltina had pushed work that couldn’t possibly be achieved onto these two and then shouted at them when they failed to deliver. Their lives would be so much easier if they could just admit that this task was beyond them.

“Enough. Leave.” Meltina shooed them away with her hand. “Seeing your faces makes me sick to my stomach. Go back to your rooms and do your job. I expect a more satisfying report tomorrow.”

After they left, Meltina sank into the sofa. A deep sigh escaped her lips. Lying face-up, she covered her eyes with the back of her hand. She felt warm, wet tears slipping down her temples.

“Why? Why won’t anyone cooperate with Her Majesty? Why do they only care about their own profit? Doesn’t anyone love this country?”

To Meltina, the Kingdom of Rhoadseria stood above all else. It was as dear to her as her own mother. She devoted her life to this country, shed her very blood for it. She felt it was her duty. That was why she couldn’t tolerate this situation.

Before Queen Lupis rose to the throne, Duke Gelhart had controlled national policy. Most of the commoners had feared for their futures under his authority. Only the high-ranking nobles and the wealthy merchants working under them profited; everyone else lived in squalor.

Meltina sought to change that reality. And since Queen Lupis was the legitimate heir to the royal bloodline, Meltina put all her efforts into serving her. It didn’t matter to her what everyone else thought of her efforts, whether they thought them sufficient and appropriate. What did matter was that she earnestly believed she’d done her utmost in the name of these endeavors. She worked hard, and those around her noticed it.

But for all her efforts, reality didn’t change one bit. The nobles continued to hide behind their privilege, increasing their fame and power, while the merchants used their wealth and connections to further their relationship with the aristocrats. And though the commoners dreaded what the nobles and aristocrats might do to them, they still continued to complain—loudly.

Everyone criticized and looked down on Queen Lupis.

At this rate, this country will... But what are we to do?

Meltina realized just how problematic the situation was, but she didn’t know how to deal with it. If nothing else, she couldn’t stand the fact that people were criticizing her beloved queen. Even so, Meltina wasn’t any closer to solving these problems. She felt like she was trying to conquer a mountain no one had ever scaled before. The distant peak was in sight, but she lacked a map, and there was no paved road to follow.

“Ugh, enough. Enough! This weighs on Queen Lupis much more than it does me. I have to be responsible and support her!”

Letting out a small sigh, Meltina rose from the sofa. She then stood in front of a mirror in the room’s corner. Her beautiful hair was as well-kempt as it always was, and her attire was as classy as ever. But her face was visibly tired, and her eyelids looked a bit swollen.

“I look awful,” Meltina said, running a hand over her cheeks. “And I have a meeting coming up too.”

Meltina reached for her box of cosmetics nearby. She wasn’t very good at applying makeup, but she couldn’t very well attend a meeting looking so haggard.

♱

The setting sun cast a red glow over the round table. Queen Lupis looked at the members seated there and said, “That concludes our agenda for the day. Does anyone have anything else to add?”

These meetings took place every day at two in the afternoon, and honestly speaking, Queen Lupis hated them. The same people would sit in the same conference room, arguing over the same issues in exactly the same way. It was an utterly vapid, futile waste of time. There was never any progress, no forward movement. Hosting these meetings did nothing but strain her nerves and patience.

Another meeting that achieved nothing. We didn’t decide on or improve anything. All they do is mock everyone and shove their responsibilities onto each other.

Queen Lupis had personally chosen all the people here. She’d invited those who weren’t part of the nobles’ faction and who had done nothing but rule over their territories. She’d thought this would shape the country into an upright, impartial, and just kingdom—a paradise.

Queen Lupis resisted the urge to sigh. They didn’t acknowledge her abilities as a ruler to begin with, so she couldn’t come across as apathetic on top of that. She did try, in her own way, to fulfill the role of Rhoadseria’s ruler.

Doesn’t someone have something? Anyone? What am I supposed to do with this country?

Queen Lupis understood the country’s predicament perfectly. Indeed, everyone present in this meeting was devoted to solving these issues. Despite this, she couldn’t come up with any solutions. All she could do was pray that someone would suggest a viable plan.

Queen Lupis looked around desperately, her eyes practically begging the others for help. But they all averted their gaze, even her closest aides, Mikhail and Meltina.

“Nothing, then. In that case...”

Resigned, Queen Lupis was about to conclude the meeting when someone silently raised their hand.

“If I may, Your Majesty?”

It was Count Bergstone, who sat to her left. All the eyes in the room fixed on him at once.

What is he going to say? Is he going to criticize me? Or is he... 

Queen Lupis’s pulse boomed in her ears like an alarm bell. Both anxiety and hope shook her heart. Count Bergstone and his brother-in-law were two of the most adept politicians in the room. They were undoubtedly the most appropriate people to manage and handle the changes she wanted to enact in the country.

When she first took the throne, Count Bergstone had masterfully handled the early stages of the reform. At the time, everyone had been optimistic, but the honeymoon phase hadn’t lasted long. As the country’s issues stagnated, Count Bergstone suggested that they firmly exercise the power of the state to overcome the resistance. Queen Lupis had rejected that proposal. That dispute drove a fissure between the two of them.

Because of that break in their relationship, Queen Lupis had opposed Count Bergstone’s stance about the expedition to Xarooda. She had tried to defend Mikhail, who had been unrepentant, from the sound criticism of the others. This had just soured her relationship with Count Bergstone even more.

In the end, Queen Lupis had decreed that Ryoma Mikoshiba and Helena were to go to Xarooda. She’d had no other choice. Count Bergstone still attended the meetings after that, but he didn’t proactively suggest any policy changes. His brother-in-law, Count Zeleph, had left the capital altogether.

The end result was political turmoil. Those that were left were either loyal but lacking in political skill, or they were capable but disloyal. Neither of those groups were helpful to her. Queen Lupis was stuck in a game of chess where all she had were pawns—no queen, knights, rooks, or bishops.

In chess, a pawn could be promoted to a queen. It held the potential to be the strongest piece in the game. Much in the same manner, people could show a great deal of worth and utility if used correctly.

But unlike Count Bergstone, I don’t have the skill or the experience in utilizing people.

Any game of chess depended on the skill of the player, after all.

Honestly, the easiest way out of this would be to apologize to Count Bergstone and seek his counsel. But I can’t do that.

Queen Lupis regretted her decisions. She knew she’d had no other options at the time, but she couldn’t escape her guilt. Yet she wasn’t in a position to admit that she’d been in the wrong. The sovereign was the highest authority in the country; regardless of how much de facto power they had, they were still regarded as nominally absolute rulers. If such a ruler were to apologize, it would call their authority into question. Queen Lupis had no firm achievements to speak of as it was, and lowering herself like that would enable those who doubted her power as a stateswoman to be more vocal.

More than anything, though, Queen Lupis feared that admitting to her faults would once again direct the blame at Mikhail Vanash. He was one of her closest and most trusted aides, as close to her as Meltina. She revered him as an older brother.

As for what was best for the kingdom, she knew she needed to cut Mikhail out of her government. But not even a benign sovereign could completely cast aside her own personal desires and greed. She could only hope that the passage of time would solve the problems that plagued Mikhail.

But then Count Bergstone had suddenly asked for permission to speak. Queen Lupis was naturally on guard, but she couldn’t afford to let it show in such a public setting.

“Yes, go ahead,” Queen Lupis said, her voice a bit shrill. “You have my permission to speak, Count Bergstone.”

“Thank you kindly, Your Majesty.” Count Bergstone rose from his chair. He bowed deeply at Queen Lupis and looked around the table before taking a deep breath. “I’m sure all of you realize, Her Majesty most acutely of all, that our country is currently suffering under the weight of several large problems.”

Count Bergstone’s words echoed through the room. His voice was by no means coercive. His tone was calm, and each word was perfectly enunciated and pleasing to the ear. His words were backed by overwhelming confidence and conviction.

“Ideally, each of these problems should have been solved early on, but the top priority is the possibility of another O’ltormean invasion on Xarooda.”

Everyone around the table nodded in agreement. They all worked desperately to rebuild the country in preparation for that possibility.

“Last year’s war concluded with an alliance between the three kingdoms of the east and Helnesgoula. For now, things are calm. But many believe that didn’t mark the end of the war. Xarooda is continuing its negotiations with O’ltormea, but I find it unlikely they will settle the matter. At some point, O’ltormea will find one reason or another to launch another war with Xarooda.”

A few people raised their voices in agreement.

“And when they do, O’ltormea will definitely try to break the alliance between the three kingdoms of the east. But how will they attempt to do that? What would cut into our national power even more than sending reinforcements to Xarooda?”

Count Bergstone’s question hung in the air until someone finally uttered, “The southern kingdoms...”

The air in the room froze over. Anyone with even a vague understanding of the situation would know that a militaristic hegemony like the O’ltormea Empire—the ruler of the continent’s center—wouldn’t retreat so easily. If O’ltormea, which took other countries by force, were to lose to Xarooda in a war, hostilities within the empire would increase. This meant O’ltormea couldn’t afford to lose another war against Xarooda, no matter what. They’d use every secret tactic they could. In which case, they’d probably bait one or more of the southern kingdoms into opening hostilities against Rhoadseria and Myest.

The O’ltormea Empire had been forced to negotiate a cease-fire because Ryoma Mikoshiba had taken Fort Notis, a supply base essential for their war effort. In addition, three kingdoms of the east and Helnesgoula, the ruler of the continent’s north, had formed a common front against them. Not even a powerful empire could force their way through four countries at once. O’ltormea’s most natural course of action would be to break the alliance between those four countries. And the easiest way to go about that would be to increase their own allies and divide the enemy.

O’ltormea’s most likely allies were the war-torn, warmongering southern kingdoms. Their territories were small, and their national power was by no means large, but they were known for having individually skilled and powerful soldiers. Rhoadseria had locked blades with them in the past, and the losses they’d taken were considerable. A war with the southern kingdoms wouldn’t ruin Rhoadseria, but it would diminish its resources and national power enough so they couldn’t spare any reinforcements to Xarooda.

That’s assuming that internal affairs are stable and organized under the queen, Count Bergstone thought. Given the internal turmoil we’re in right now, we would struggle to hold back the southern kingdoms anyway. In that regard, we would have been better off if we’d let General Albrecht rule the country with Queen Lupis as a puppet ruler, or if we’d let Duke Gelhart become the prime minister.

Count Bergstone scoffed at his own ironic thought. The late Hodram Albrecht and the former Duke Gelhart were highly problematic individuals. Count Bergstone regarded them as the scum of the earth. They were both vain and self-serving, and they stopped at nothing to elevate their own glory and status. They both had aspired to make the sovereign their puppet as they ruled over Rhoadseria. That was why a war had broken out—to eject them from the regime and remove their authority over the royal house. That had been accomplished, but now Rhoadseria was like a flock of sheep without a proper shepherd to lead them.

Still, we have to do something. This could change everything.

The room settled into silence. Everyone waited with bated breath to hear what Count Bergstone would say next.

With everyone’s gazes fixed on him, Count Bergstone took out the trump cards he’d prepared from the bag at his feet. He’d held his silence for months just for this moment.

“For that reason—”

But the goddess of fate once again ignored Count Bergstone’s desires. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, there was a loud knock on the door.