Wortenia Senki (LN) - Volume 12 - Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Kikoku

“Good, you made it,” Ryoma said, heaving a sigh of relief. He placed the pen he’d been gripping back on the table. “Glad to know Count Zeleph is still safe.”

After Laura had returned from escorting Count Zeleph to Helena’s garrison in the city of Tritron, she’d reported to Ryoma.

Laura nodded. “Yes, Master. It’s thanks to the Igasaki ninjas’ timely report. Count Zeleph’s escorts were slain in the initial attack, so the situation was urgent. But we were able to finish off the attackers. After that, we took him to Lady Helena. Their conversation went about as you predicted too. Both agreed to abandon Queen Lupis. Also, Lady Helena entrusted a message to us, saying she would very much like to discuss the country’s future with you.”

Laura handed the letter over to Ryoma. After quickly skimming through it, Ryoma’s lips curled into a satisfied grin. Then he held the letter up to the candle’s flame. It would be devastating if this information leaked to a third party.

If we just leave Rhoadseria alone, the country will fall apart on its own before long. And if that were to happen, this land would turn into hell on earth. Being a former commoner, Helena has no other choice.

Helena was a skilled military leader, but she had little aptitude for politics. She could perhaps govern a town, but she knew herself well enough to know that she had no business being a sovereign. On the surface, she had asked for a discussion, but really she had implicitly declared her intention to enter Ryoma’s camp.

As the scent of burning paper filled the room, Ryoma leaned back in his chair and gazed up at the ceiling with a pleased expression.

“Count Zeleph made the exact move I thought he would. Well, it’s not like he has many reasons to leave the capital and go talk to Helena. I’d like to talk to Count Zeleph personally later, but for now let’s let him take a breather and have a look around Sirius.”

Count Zeleph had gone to see Helena soon after the attack on his life, then traveled all the way to the Wortenia Peninsula immediately afterward. And since they had been traveling incognito, it had been a tiring journey. Count Zeleph was probably exhausted. It’d be best to give him a few days to rest.

Not that it’s entirely out of the goodness of my own heart...

If Count Zeleph visited Sirius and saw the city’s progress, his impressions of it would influence the power balance to come.

“Yes, I’ve already told Count Zeleph that he’s free to look around the city,” Laura said, sighing. Reluctantly, she continued, “But I didn’t expect things to really go exactly as you planned.”

Ryoma laughed out loud. “You look surprised,” he quipped with a smile.

“Well, yes. He convinced Count Bergstone to give up on Queen Lupis and even decided to join forces with Helena. I didn’t think Count Zeleph would be that decisive.”

Laura’s gaze fell on the letter. It was clear from her expression that she was still apprehensive about this turn of events.

I’ve met and spoken to Count Zeleph many times already, but not once have I thought him to be this frightening.

Count Zeleph was an amicable middle-aged man, and his pleasant demeanor extended to the Malfist sisters, even though they were servants. He came across as mild-mannered, and he had a friendly disposition and a penchant for jokes. His open personality was unique among Rhoadseria’s nobles, who often stressed their status and station.

But that was only how Count Zeleph seemed. He was a noble just the same. Laura and Sara only saw him as a plain, plump man who hid behind his brother-in-law’s shadow. That wasn’t to say they looked down on him, but it was exactly why this development came as such a shock to them.

“Is it really that surprising?” Ryoma asked.

“Yes. I still find it hard to believe,” Laura answered, nodding. Her beautiful features were marred with doubt.

Laura believed that she didn’t judge people solely on appearance. She was mistaken, however. She did unconsciously make assumptions about Count Zeleph based on how he looked. When Ryoma ordered her to prevent Count Zeleph’s assassination, she’d also learned of the count’s shady dealings. But even after seeing him with her own eyes, Laura struggled to believe Elnan Zeleph had been masking his fangs.

“That’s his trick, see?” Ryoma said, laughing. “Part of his MO is influencing people’s impressions of him.”

Laura blinked. “His...em oh?”

“Yeah, it means, hm, his usual methods.”

As far as Ryoma had observed, Elnan Zeleph was considerably skilled in politics. He wasn’t as good as Count Bergstone, but compared to the other Rhoadserian nobles, he was an asset. Despite this, public opinion of him was surprisingly low.

I mean, it makes sense. He’s always compared to Bergstone, a comparison that will never work in his favor, especially when he intentionally plays the part of a fool.

Count Bergstone was a tall, handsome, refined dandy in the prime of his life. Count Zeleph, on the other hand, was short, pudgy, and plain-looking. It was clear who drew the most attention. Count Zeleph would always come across as Count Bergstone’s foil or henchman. Be that as it may, Count Zeleph decided to use it to his advantage so he could act in the shadows.

“He knows he’s plain-looking and inconspicuous,” Ryoma explained. “He always keeps a step or two removed from the public eye by hiding in Count Bergstone’s shadow.”

“So you’re saying he does that to not draw attention to himself?” Laura asked.

Ryoma nodded. “In a manner of speaking. The difference between him and Count Bergstone is like the difference between an actor and a backstage hand.”

The actor shone on the stage and received all the applause, but the one who directed the spotlight onto him from behind the scenes was just as crucial. It was dull, thankless work, but without it the curtain couldn’t even rise.

Count Bergstone performed impressive feats that drew attention, and Count Zeleph supported him from the shadows and did his dirty work. The two of them were effectively one and the same—they shared a common fate.

“Either way, that gives me three more valuable pawns,” Ryoma concluded.

“Lady Helena and the Counts Bergstone and Zeleph?”

“Yep. All three are pretty powerful pawns, but Count Zeleph is exceptionally useful.”

“Count Zeleph? Really?” Laura asked in surprise.

She agreed that all three were valuable. But if asked who the most valuable was, she would answer that it was Helena, or maybe Count Bergstone. Count Zeleph was a surprisingly good manipulator, but Helena was known across multiple countries for her military exploits, and Count Bergstone had proved his political aptitude under Queen Lupis’s regime.

Ryoma shook his head, as if to chide Laura for her disbelief. “His intelligence network allows him to acquire information from both the aristocracy and the palace—places the Igasaki clan can’t reach easily.”

The Igasaki ninjas were crucial to Ryoma’s plans because they provided him with intelligence and information, but not even they could handle the entirety of that role. The Igasaki clan consisted of two hundred members, including women and children. They’d also trained the liberated slave children in the ninja arts, but at this time, only a hundred or so of them were actually good enough to be in the field. The size and scale of the clan would certainly grow in the future, but if Ryoma were to seize more territory now, there wouldn’t be enough of them to go around. Besides, having someone versed in noble society and capable of gathering intelligence on that front would be indispensable.

After all, the Igasaki ninjas would have a hard time blending in at the palace with their black hair and tan skin. That didn’t mean they were terribly discriminated against, since people with such features were usually traders from other continents, but the western continent was predominantly occupied by people akin to Caucasians. The ninjas would certainly stand out. And noble society was an insular space, which made it extremely difficult to gather information.

Not that I intend to leave too many nobles around...

Ryoma had a vision of his ideal country. He wanted to make a place run entirely by merit. He disliked nobles, mainly those who retained their roles while doing nothing to deserve it—parasites that only extorted their people to live in luxury.

Ryoma wasn’t naive enough to allow these parasites to infest his country—his proverbial garden. But despite his ideals, he knew that completely eliminating the nobility and running all of Rhoadseria by himself would be too troublesome. That left him with just one choice: to take his time, sift through all the nobles, and divide the jewels from the pebbles—those who were skilled and beneficial from those who leeched off of others. To do that, he needed Count Zeleph, a man familiar with the inner workings of Rhoadseria.

The day Count Zeleph would prove his worth was still far away, though. Ryoma was still just a minor governor of a frontier land, so planning out what he’d do once he ruled everything would be presumptuous and absurd.

For now, let’s take things one step at a time.

True to Ryoma’s original plan, a rebellion broke out in the Kingdom of Rhoadseria, and the government officials were spread too thin to effectively control the situation. With the country in this state, one could force just about anything to happen.

The attack on Count Zeleph was a prime example of this. Under normal circumstances, such a blatant attack on a noble’s life would never happen in the open. There were more discreet ways of dealing with him, be it poison or extortion. But they chose to attack his carriage on the highway, where anyone could see them. True, maybe they were in a hurry to eliminate him as fast as possible. But if that were the case, they would have planned more meticulously. The natural conclusion was that his assassination would have served as a warning to any noble who opposed Queen Lupis.

Ryoma could only think of two people who would go that far for Queen Lupis during such uncertain times.

Mikhail is the most likely candidate, but Meltina’s becoming more vocal now that she’s serving as Queen Lupis’s aide. I guess those two still haven’t learned how to read a room.

Mikhail and Meltina both being thoughtless and impulsive was nothing new. One couldn’t find two people more loyal to Queen Lupis if they searched Rhoadseria up and down, but everything they did seemed to backfire. They were particularly bad when it came to politics. Their loyalty was important, to be sure, but they lacked the basic understanding that not all ideals could become reality. Whenever a bureaucrat or official failed to complete the queen’s orders, Mikhail and Meltina would mock them for it.

Many of Queen Lupis’s problems could be traced back to the nobles’ faction. Their interference definitely inhibited the bureaucrats’ work and Queen Lupis’s reforms. But that wasn’t the core reason the queen’s regime was failing.

The attack on Count Zeleph was either because they realized he helped Count Bergstone gather the documents Bergstone had brought to that meeting, or because they were protecting Queen Lupis’s honor. Either way, they planned this revenge at their own discretion.

Before the Malfist twins escorted Count Zeleph to Tritron, they collected one of the arrows as proof of the attack. They’d shown it to Helena, who immediately recognized it as the type used by the Rhoadserian knights to slay large monsters.

Of course, some third party could be framing Mikhail and Meltina by using the knights’ arrows. But Laura had sent a runner from the Igasaki clan to inspect all of the Rhoadserian knights. The runner had discovered that seventeen knights among the royal guard had died from illness. All of these reports came within a few days of the attack on Count Zeleph. What’s more, a company commander within the royal guard had managed everything relating to their deaths, from the reports to the funeral arrangements. The knights saw each other as family, so when one of them died, his colleagues would pitch in and help the bereaved family. But if this company commander was close to Meltina or Mikhail, the story became much more suspect.

Another suspicious detail was that during the funerals, neither the family nor the attending knights could see the body. It was like they were trying to hide something and were in a hurry to bury the corpse and be done with it. This was highly unusual for military funerals in this world.

Once one considered that Count Zeleph had been attacked by seventeen people, the answer became quite clear.

Based on what Laura said, the fighting was pretty savage. I can’t imagine they’d show the bodies in that state.

In cases of accidental death or murder, where the body was particularly damaged, they would cover it so as to spare the families and guests further anguish. This world lacked the knowledge to embalm a body. But these knights were reported to have died from illness. They couldn’t very well say that and then show corpses scarred and maimed from battle.

Still, using their own subordinates for an assassination... Whoever’s behind this made a pretty dangerous gamble by sending knights instead of hiring assassins. Though I guess that’s something I can only say thanks to hindsight. If I hadn’t sent Laura and her team, Count Zeleph would be dead now. So I can see why they’d feel more confident in knights they knew rather than outsiders. They’re definitely getting impatient. It’s pretty ironic that their attack on Count Zeleph is what ended up exposing them.

Either way, this timing was a once-in-a-lifetime chance for Ryoma. It was clear to him that putting off the war any further might allow the forces operating in the shadows of the western continent to interfere.

“I think now’s the time,” Ryoma said. “Tell Simone and Gennou I need to see them urgently.”

Laura immediately understood the implications of his order. “So it’s time, then, Master Ryoma?”

“Yes,” Ryoma confirmed, nodding. “We’re taking over Epirus.”

Laura left the room to call Gennou and Simone. Now alone, Ryoma leaned against the sofa as he waited for them to arrive. It was then that he heard what sounded like the wind moaning—a demon wailing in the night.

“Such a melancholic voice,” a man said from behind the door to Ryoma’s room.

“Gennou.” Ryoma recognized the harsh voice and sat up.

“I heed your call, milord,” Gennou stated, his voice muffled by the door.

“Yeah, come in.”

The door silently opened, and an old man stepped inside. He had white hair and a long mustache, and he was clad in his usual black garb, as was customary in the Igasaki clan. He bowed respectfully to Ryoma.

“Sorry for calling you out of nowhere like that,” Ryoma said, bowing his head back.

Gennou shook his head. “We are ninjas, milord. We are always in your service. Whenever you require our help, we will be there to answer your call.”

“Yeah? That’s good to hear.” Ryoma motioned for Gennou to take a seat at a table in the corner of the room. “Based on how sloppy the assassination attempt on Count Zeleph was, it looks like the capital’s in a state of chaos. Everything looks ready. How are the preparations I requested going?”

“We’ve already pinned down most of the enemy’s main players, starting with Yulia Salzberg. We’re ready to begin whenever you give the word.”

“Right. Everything’s going well, then,” Ryoma muttered.

Gennou then hesitantly said, “While this may come across as impolite, milord, I must ask. How do you like the katana we gave you?”

“You mean Kikoku?” Ryoma asked. When Gennou nodded, Ryoma continued, “Hm, well...” He scratched the back of his head and dropped his gaze to Kikoku, which was sitting atop a shelf. He paused for a moment, carefully picking his words. “Well, it’s convenient. It doesn’t require any maintenance, and even if it breaks, it fixes itself after a night in its sheath. That saves time on whetting and fixing it. But...I can’t say it really lives up to your story, Gennou.”

Ryoma had heard Gennou’s story a little before he left for the expedition to Xarooda. One night, Ryoma was called to a covert meeting with the Igasaki clan’s elders, where he was given this katana.

Kikoku—The Wailing Demon. It was a demonic sword forged by the founder of the Igasaki clan, Douman Igasaki. It was said that he had forged it by mixing the flesh of his own wife and child into the blade. The blade had been passed down for five hundred years, but the only one who ever truly wielded it to its full power was Douman.

Following Douman’s death, the sword was sealed in a sheath of plain wood with multiple seals on it. This was done in accordance with Douman’s will. Apparently, the Igasaki clan had spent the last five hundred years as vagabonds so that they could complete Douman’s last wish.

I mean, I don’t want to speak out of line here. Gennou devoted his life to this. But from what he’s told me, this will Douman Igasaki left behind doesn’t really add up.

Douman had left his clan with two orders: seek a true master who could lead the clan and have this new master inherit his will. Ryoma didn’t scoff at inheriting an elder’s will; he thought it was a lofty pursuit. It was much easier said than done, though, especially when Kikoku picked its new master.

Also, this cursed blade absorbed the prana of surrounding humans and lifeforms—except for its master. This was why it had to be sealed and carefully cared for and why the elders’ council treated it as a divine weapon.

The Igasaki ninjas had then walked across the land. Whenever a promising master appeared, they’d ask them to grip Kikoku. If Ryoma were to be frank, it all seemed terribly haphazard. The most disturbing part, though, was that if Kikoku found the master unworthy, it would drain them of their prana until they died.

I mean, I can’t exactly say they duped anyone. They do confirm the person’s ability and mettle, and check if they’re Japanese. And then they explain the situation and gain the person’s approval.

Thankfully, when Gennou informed the other elders that he’d found a potential master, Kikoku had started wailing on its own for some reason. This had convinced them to serve Ryoma. Had that not happened, they probably wouldn’t have considered working under a man they were once ordered to assassinate. But by the time Ryoma prepared to leave for Xarooda, the elders seemed to acknowledge Ryoma as Kikoku’s true master.

Unfortunately, though Ryoma became the clan’s master, Kikoku proved to be a rather ordinary katana, unworthy of its storied history. It was certainly an improvement on the katanas they had previously given him, and it was capable of repairing itself and required no maintenance. It was a strong blade that was unlikely to ever snap. But that was all it was.

Gennou claimed that once it truly awakened, Kikoku could cut through anything and everything with a single slash. But for now, it was nothing more than a nice katana that took care of itself. Ryoma wouldn’t go so far as to call the story fake, but he felt it was only half-true.

Either way, Ryoma’s katana had yet to show its true value.

“I see,” Gennou said pensively. “But the fact you can hold it without it draining your prana means that you are its rightful owner.”

“Well, I guess, but...” Ryoma’s expression was unreadable as he looked up to the ceiling.

Their exchange continued until Simone knocked on the door.

♱

The meeting with Gennou and Simone had ended, and Ryoma was alone in his room. His gaze turned to the katana sitting on the shelf next to his work desk. As if feeling Ryoma’s eyes on it, Kikoku’s blade let out a morose wail.

Kikoku, huh?

It had been passed down as proof of the Igasaki clan’s heir and had spent centuries awaiting a proper wielder. As moonlight shone into the room, Ryoma’s lips curled into a smile. Had anyone else been there, they would have seen the face of a blood-drenched demon.

“Either way, I’ll be counting on you from now on, Partner.”

Kikoku didn’t show the power Gennou spoke of, but that didn’t mean Ryoma had any intention of discarding it. When he attacked Fort Notis to cut off O’ltormea’s supply line, he had used it to slay Greg Moore. Since that battle, Kikoku had become an indispensable ally and tool.

You’re the only one I can trust with my life.

Ryoma gently removed the sword from its sheath and whispered to the blunt blade. The moment he did, Ryoma thought he could hear a screeching in the wind, like the demented wailing of a demon.

I see. So you...

This was Ryoma’s first true conversation with Kikoku.

♱

The town of Sirius was built within a forested area deep inside the Wortenia Peninsula. The flagstone roads stretching between the stonework buildings were truly an astounding sight.

“So this is his town. No, it’s not just a town...”

Count Zeleph sighed in admiration as he looked out the window of his room at the inn. He’d walked through its streets just this afternoon, accompanied by a lookout.

Sirius was nowhere near the size of capitals like O’ltormea or Pireas. Its population wasn’t impressive either. If those capitals had half a million people each, Sirius didn’t even make up a tenth of that. Still, for a baron’s territory, it had quite a large population.

Rhoadseria had over a hundred barons, and their territories were mostly villages with a few hundred commoners. Only a handful of barons had towns developed enough to have a population in the thousands. And once the population reached five figures, it wasn’t a village or a town anymore. It was a city. Many of the cities in Rhoadseria were more populated than Sirius—like the capital or Heraklion, the largest citadel city in Rhoadseria’s south. There was also Count Salzberg’s stronghold, Epirus.

There are cities larger than Sirius out there, but considering what’s in this city...

The Wortenia Peninsula was originally a strip of land without any real population. It was a land infested and overrun with dangerous monsters, and the only people who ventured there were exiled criminals and their families. The Rhoadserian royal house held it under their direct control, but they had neglected it and left it undeveloped since the country’s founding. That a city like Sirius existed in the peninsula was unusual in and of itself.

Just who is he? What is he thinking?

Several weeks had passed since the attempt on Count Zeleph’s life, and every day since then he grappled with his doubts about Ryoma. The meeting they had the other day had only reinforced those doubts.

It was good for a noble to build up their territory—developing villages into towns, and towns into cities. It also made the people’s lives safer and more affluent. That was how it should be. It was a noble’s duty to oversee the growth of their land, much like a parent watching their child mature. In that regard, Sirius was typical. If nothing else, it was a testament to Ryoma Mikoshiba’s political prowess. Nobody would hold that against him.

However, it had only been a couple of years since Ryoma was put in charge of the peninsula. And during this past year, he had to leave his territory for roughly a year because of the war in Xarooda. Not even Count Bergstone, who was praised for his skill in internal affairs, would have been able to develop the Wortenia Peninsula to such an extent in such a short period of time. In addition to that, Ryoma was considered equal to Helena, Rhoadseria’s fabled Ivory Goddess of War, in military affairs.

He really is a monster.

Count Zeleph didn’t dislike Ryoma. During the previous civil war, Ryoma had guided Count Bergstone back to the forefront of the political world, which had helped Count Zeleph improve his own position as well. He was thankful for that. Ryoma was a commoner and wasn’t familiar with palace etiquette, which was an issue, but Count Zeleph preferred his frank attitude to the nobles who insisted on decorum. Their attitude was nothing more than a facade.

But though Count Zeleph liked Ryoma, he couldn’t help but fear this city. And after learning of the plot behind the current commoner rebellion, not even a sly fox like Zeleph could maintain his composure.

I can’t believe it was his men who shot that foolish noble dead. Who would have guessed that it was all Lord Ryoma’s doing?

The timing with which the rebellion broke out was something that had puzzled Count Zeleph. But once he learned of the trick behind it, it all seemed simple. A third party had triggered the rebellion, but another mastermind had planned it. A single uncertain factor was added to the equation, and it had changed the outcome entirely.

One could easily say Ryoma Mikoshiba set off the rebellion.

Ryoma’s plan included Count Zeleph gathering evidence of the other nobles’ corruption and Count Bergstone turning his back on Queen Lupis. But another unknown group had organized and set up the rebellion. Ryoma was just the match to light the powder keg they’d set up.

If everything Lord Ryoma says is true, then I can’t very well fault him.

Count Zeleph was displeased at having been played, but one had to seize the initiative to survive in this world. Considering this, Ryoma’s actions weren’t wrong.

But that begs the question...is there really a group manipulating the continent from the shadows, like Ryoma says?

Ryoma had spoken of a group that influenced the entire continent. If such a group really existed, it would answer quite a few questions. But admitting that meant acknowledging the existence of a network that exceeded the scope of multiple nations.

Ryoma said he’d heard of it from Julianus I, King of Xarooda.

Xarooda’s mediocre king claimed that a mysterious organization manipulated the entire continent from behind the scenes. It honestly sounded far-fetched. But Zeleph was familiar with pretending to be mediocre and hiding his true strength from the world. He couldn’t deny that Julianus I might be doing the same.

It doesn’t matter. Given the situation we’re in right now, there’s nothing else to do.

There was no undoing the fact that a commoner rebellion had broken out, and Count Bergstone’s decision could no longer be overturned.

“Let’s see what he can do for now,” Count Zeleph whispered to himself as he pulled a bottle of alcohol from a shelf on the wall. He poured the amber-colored liquid into a glass and took a swig.

♱

That day, a man appeared in the fortress on the border between the territories of Baron Mikoshiba and Count Salzberg.

“So we’ve finally made it.”

Looking down at the black-clad soldiers lined up beneath him, Ryoma nodded in satisfaction. A few years had passed since the goddess of fate brought him, an ordinary high schooler, to this world. Reaching this moment had required a great deal of blood and effort.

There was strength in numbers. This was true in both Ryoma’s home world and this one. And now, Ryoma would exhibit his strength for the world to see. It was a force he’d kept secret for years now.

Even so, Ryoma couldn’t help but feel a little anxious.

Once I start this, there’ll be no turning back. So no matter what, I have to win this.

Ryoma knew that others had shunned him. To the nobles, he was nothing more than a commoner who had stumbled into success. The knights envied him for his military achievements and noble title. Very few people could look past all that and treat Ryoma as an ally. Most of Rhoadseria viewed him as a heretic. And society hated and expelled heretics, no matter what world it might be.

The reason none of this had managed to stop Ryoma was because he knew to hide his power and remain as inconspicuous as he could.

It’ll be fine. I already talked things out with Helena. And we’re still talking to that woman, but based on how things are going with her father, it’s just a matter of time until she breaks. Everything’s going according to plan, so all that’s left is...

He’d built up this army himself, and he was certainly confident in its power. But with the exception of the small group he’d taken with him to Xarooda, most of them lacked real combat experience. They had continually hunted the monsters that infested Wortenia. They could match medium-ranked knights from any of the surrounding countries, if not surpass them. They were skilled in their own right. But fighting monsters wasn’t the same as fighting another person.

The stronger person wasn’t guaranteed to win. Bloodlust could grip people, and a yearning to live could drive people to do amazing feats. And a battle where such emotions mingled and clashed had its own unique conditions.

“It will be fine,” Laura assured him as she gripped Ryoma’s shaking fingers with her hand. “We will succeed.”

Ryoma had nerves of steel, but his future depended on this battle. It was difficult to remain composed at a time like this. It wasn’t just Ryoma’s future at risk here.

A voice from behind Ryoma suddenly said, “You’re finally taking your first step to make your ambitions a reality, Sir Mikoshiba.”

Ryoma was surprised to hear this person in a place like this. He turned around and smiled awkwardly.

“Don’t startle me like that, Nelcius.”

The silver-haired elf smirked and shrugged. “My apologies. Our lifestyle involves hunting, and we’ve developed a bad habit of masking our presences, you see.” Several hooded figures stood behind him as guards.

“Thank you for coming to see us off today,” Ryoma said.

Nelcius’s position within Ryoma’s regime was still somewhat unclear. He often visited Ryoma’s estate in Sirius, and he frequently attended major meetings. But he wasn’t a vassal of the Mikoshiba barony yet. He was at best a casual ally.

“Oh, come off it. You’re an important trade partner to us, Sir Mikoshiba. There isn’t much we can do to help you, but we will offer what little assistance we can.”

Nelcius reached into his pocket and took out a cigarette. He rolled it up with his fingers and placed it between his lips.

“My apologies,” he muttered as he lit it with thaumaturgy. “Recently I can’t relax without one.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying our merchandise,” Ryoma replied with a smile.

The demi-humans living in the peninsula, namely the elves, maintained a certain standard of living by using their unique physical abilities. They’d spent many years adapting to life in this inhospitable land. However, their lives were by no means affluent. They had to live off the meat of monsters and the mushrooms and fruit growing in the forests around them. While those were sustainable food sources, they were utterly unappetizing. In addition, they had no way of getting assorted sundries or little luxuries. The best thing they had was wine distilled from local fruit, but the amount they could produce was limited.

Their lives had been quite strained, and all their efforts went into staying alive. Such was life within the Wortenia Peninsula. They could produce powerful thaumaturgical weapons, but it cost their quality of life. This was why Ryoma had shrewdly given them those luxury items. He taught them once again how to enjoy life.

“Seeing so many soldiers lined up here is quite the sight,” Nelcius remarked. “It looks like the heroic legions of legend.”

Ryoma felt there was something slightly off with Nelcius’s compliment. Nelcius had called this army the stuff of legends in a rather casual way, knowing full well that the man who’d built that army was listening. It wasn’t unpleasant to hear, but it did come across as desperate flattery.

I can’t blame him, given his position. They can’t go back to being cut off from the outside world now.

Once one’s quality of life increased, it took a great deal of effort and mental diligence to do with less.

“Well, we’re only as well-equipped as we are because of you and your clan, Nelcius. We’re very grateful to you. It’s rare for humans to have this many endowed thaumaturgical weapons, and your knowledge on thaumaturgy is much more advanced than what humans possess.”

Nelcius nodded. If any soldiers from another country were to see the equipment Ryoma’s soldiers were wearing, they’d be beside themselves with shock. Masters of endowed thaumaturgy were even more rare than verbal thaumaturgists, and merchants from all over monopolized many of them.

Weapons and armor that had endowed thaumaturgy applied to them were precious commodities. The only countries on the continent that could afford to equip their knights with endowed gear were the three great powers. Even then, only select units, like the royal guard, received that treatment. It was unthinkable that a provincial governor like Ryoma could obtain such gear in such quantities. It was only possible because of the demi-humans inhabiting the Wortenia Peninsula.

“We’re glad to hear you say that,” Nelcius replied. “I hope our business relations continue in the future. And so...” Nelcius ordered the soldiers kneeling behind him to stand up. “I’ve come here to further deepen our relationship.”

“Meaning?” Ryoma asked.

“Remove your hoods,” Nelcius commanded. He smiled as his soldiers revealed their faces—living jewels—to Ryoma.

“This is...” Ryoma uttered.

“I’ve picked the fairest and most skilled of our warriors. Use them however you see fit, Sir Mikoshiba. As both guards and thaumaturgists, their skill is guaranteed. Even produce offspring with them, if you wish. They’ve already agreed to it.”

Nelcius’s laughter was loud and whimsical, but Ryoma was very much taken aback.

Well, uh, I’m stumped. So that’s his angle. Ryoma’s mind worked quickly, grasping the meaning behind this surprise attack. He probably assumed Dilphina wasn’t enough by herself. Rejecting his good will wouldn’t go over well. I don’t know about sleeping with them, but I guess they’ll make for good guards.

The items Ryoma gave to the elves, be it alcohol and cigarettes or more essential sundries like medicine and vegetables, were all things produced outside the Wortenia Peninsula. These trade relations were their sole connection to the outside world. And the only person who traded with them was Ryoma Mikoshiba—no one else. Nelcius probably couldn’t find another business partner if he tried.

While the Church of Meneos’s influence differed from country to country, their doctrine of human supremacy and rejection of demi-humans was generally accepted throughout the western continent. This was why the demi-humans had been forced to build their enclave in a dangerous region like Wortenia. No other governor on the continent would allow a demi-human population to live within their territory. And even if there were a governor like that, it wasn’t likely that Nelcius would ever meet such a man.

Because of this, Nelcius viewed Ryoma as an indispensable ally. So long as Ryoma didn’t make any absurd demands, Nelcius wouldn’t risk betraying him.

That must be why he’s so anxious. Maybe I should increase the rate we’re trading with them a bit.

As far as Ryoma could see, Nelcius had already proven himself a worthy ally. But Nelcius was the leader of an exiled people. It made sense he’d be desperate to strengthen his bond with the one ally he had.

“Then, as thanks, I’ll increase the amount of cigarettes and alcohol we’ve been trading with you,” Ryoma said after a moment.

“Oooh, that would be greatly appreciated.” Nelcius nodded in satisfaction, happy that Ryoma had correctly guessed his intention. “Everyone’s quite enthralled with both.”

Nelcius had only offered his support because he expected to be rewarded for it. But speaking his desire outright at a time like this could be a fairly risky threat. If he were to demand gratitude, it could lower Ryoma’s opinion of him. However, it would be problematic in its own way if he didn’t make his demands known. This meant he had to maintain a delicate balance and keep his expectations implied but also clear.

“Well, it’s time,” Ryoma whispered into Laura’s ear. Then he turned to Nelcius. “That’ll do for today, I’m afraid. If you run into any problems in my absence, ask Simone for help.”

“Very well,” Nelcius said, bowing his head. He watched Ryoma turn around with a flourish of his cloak and walk over to speak to his troops. “May your fights bring you glory and victory.” His words were a vassal’s gesture of honor and dignity toward his lord.

That day, a double-headed serpent with a golden head and a silvery one flashed its fangs in a bid to consume the continent. Of course, few people knew of this—not even the first victim of its venomous bite.