Wortenia Senki (LN) - Volume 21 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Ceasefire Negotiations

A few days had passed since Tachibana’s talk with Ryoma Mikoshiba. The sun shined at high noon over the Church of Meneos encampment set up in the forested region of the Cannat Plains. Having returned from his secret mission, Genzou Tachibana shared the details with Rodney and Menea.

“And so, the Mikoshiba barony army has now split in two. An official messenger should reach the Church in a few days.”

“I see... Good work,” said Rodney as he nodded upon hearing the full report.

The report Tachibana delivered had some details Rodney didn’t expect, which wasn’t all good news. Yet he unexpectedly expressed relief and concern.

Tachibana bowed his head deeply to Rodney and said, “No... If anything, pardon my late report.”

Even though he reported later than expected, that wasn’t necessarily his fault. Tachibana could not have known that Ryoma’s army would split into three wings or be in a state of high alert due to repeated assassin attacks. Perhaps he could have handled the situation more aptly, but luck and other ever-changing factors influenced this mission. Regardless, he blamed himself for all that.

“No, don’t let that trouble you.” Rodney held up a hand to cut off the apology. “It did take you longer than we expected, but that was out of your hands... We should have kept all of that in mind. Either way, it’s all behind us now. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

Menea, who stood nearby, nodded in agreement. They were both satisfied with Tachibana’s work.

“Yes, thank you very much,” Tachibana spoke in gratitude.

“For the time just rest, and pay Asuka a visit later. She was worried about you being gone.”

Tachibana nodded briefly and left the tent. Rodney and Menea watched him leave, and remained silent for a while.

“Now then... What next?” said Rodney with a sigh.

Menea regarded him quizzically, but seeing the smile on his lips made it clear what he was trying to say. Despite that, she asked him with a deliberate tone.

“What is it? I’d say this is a great outcome.”

Rodney nodded and replied, “Yes, this isn’t bad... But it gives us more things to think about.”

He leaned against the backrest, folded his arms and looked up. Seeing this, Menea chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Nothing. It’s just not often I see you think so hard.”

Rodney frowned in displeasure. “I’m always thinking... But you always tell me I don’t think things through enough.” He appended this with a sheepish smile, scratching his head awkwardly.

But then, his joking smile wavered.

“That said, Koichiro Mikoshiba being part of the barony is an interesting development. That would mean that, just like we thought, a grandfather and his grandson were summoned to this world. Based on what Asuka told us, her grandfather got caught up in her summoning. I guess there has to be a connection between them.”

“Yes. I can’t imagine the reason behind it. There has to be some kind of cause.”

Having originally been a noble, Rodney had a basic understanding about summoning and otherworlders. As far as he knew, it involved activating a certain thaumaturgical spell that summoned a person at random, as well as whatever or whoever was in their vicinity. But he had never heard of a case where multiple instances of the spell summoned members of the same family.

Of course, it’s not like the background of every person summoned was recorded, so there was no telling what the details were. For all I know, there might have been cases like that in the past. Even if that had happened, they would have been few in number.

One couldn’t say it was impossible. But the fact Ryoma, Koichiro, and Asuka were all summoned into this world couldn’t be a coincidence. It was as rare as multiple people in the same family winning the lottery.

“And then, there’s that thaumaturgical sword, Ouka.”

“Yes. Must have brought it from our world to Rearth. Koichiro Mikoshiba might be a returner. So he either carried it with him when he returned or found the thaumaturgical sword at some point. It’s impossible to tell at this point...”

Even as Menea said that, she doubted Koichiro found a sword brought to Rearth by someone else. Rodney felt the same way.

“The chances of Koichiro finding the sword after returning to his home world are slim. Asuka’s sword is a high-class thaumaturgical weapon with a will of its own. That much is clear from how I couldn’t circulate my prana to activate its spell. Even though she’s gotten more skilled recently, she’s sadly still nowhere near good enough for a thaumaturgical sword to acknowledge her as its master.”

This property wasn’t limited to thaumaturgical swords. Thaumaturgical vessels were given power through endowed thaumaturgy and possessed a will of their own based on their quality. They read their user’s strengths, convictions, and ambitions, only allowing people they acknowledged as their true masters and owners to wield them.

Blood relation was a factor they took into consideration.

In all likelihood, one needed Mikoshiba blood running through their veins to use Ouka. Or maybe the sword responded to Koichiro’s emotions.

Such was a likely reason Rodney couldn’t get Ouka to exhibit its true strength despite being able to draw it from its scabbard. Either way, it was clear it was a special weapon one couldn’t use unless they had a link to it.

Considering all these factors, Koichiro finding such a weapon appeared unlikely. The natural conclusion was that Ouka had been forged for Koichiro’s hands, which would not have been easy.

Rodney was a captain of the Temple Knights and had quite a fortune to his name. Investing all of that into forging a thaumaturgical sword would not guarantee a sword of Ouka’s quality.

But still, he’s a monster who could slay the Beldzevian court thaumaturgist and escape that kingdom’s vengeful pursuit. Given how skilled he was, it seemed plausible that he had that katana forged for his exclusive use. That raised the question of who could have funded that endeavor. Be it a coincidence or an inevitability, it’s clear that fate can be fickle.

Things converged on the Mikoshiba family too much for it to be a coincidence. Rodney’s shoulders shuddered when he arrived at that conclusion, and Menea seemed to feel the same way.

“Then there’s only one thing to do. Are you ready?” she asked.

“Yes, well...” Rodney’s expression took on a vicious visage. “We finally found a lead to trace back to the truth. And if we follow it, I have to be prepared.”

His expression was sharp with fury, all too different from his usual behavior. Perhaps this was Rodney’s true face as a man fixated on revenge. But seeing him like this, Menea said nothing.

Menea and Rodney needed to learn the truth. That alone was the only way these two would see their wishes granted.

†

A few days later, like Tachibana said, a small army clad in black uniforms appeared from the southwest. The group carried a banner with a double-headed serpent with gold and silver scales coiled around a sword that glared at the encampment.

“Oh... Are you sure this is the Mikoshiba barony army?” Cardinal Roland asked in surprise upon hearing the report.

He was no doubt asking himself why they appeared now, but he also realized this was not worth pondering.

It’s been nearly ten days since the decisive battle between the northern subjugation army and the Mikoshiba barony ended. I thought Mikoshiba would aim to take the capital as soon as possible. But first, we must confirm this is actually the Mikoshiba barony’s army.

At Cardinal Roland’s order, scouts were deployed from the Church of Meneos encampment to confirm the approaching army’s affiliation. This was a natural reaction as a battle started when one recognized another army’s presence.

The deployed scouts rode on horseback and headed southwest, kicking up dust in their wake. Their faces twisted with tragic determination and a sense of urgent duty as their task was dangerously important. They were, after all, going up against the Devil of Heraklion.

These scouts didn’t think the young warlord was leading this force personally, but clashing with his army would undoubtedly result in huge losses. On top of that, all of the Mikoshiba barony’s army was a pure combat unit made up of professional soldiers capable of martial thaumaturgy. Most were fiercely strong, equivalent to what the guild would consider Level 3.

Moreover, the Mikoshiba barony had soldiers strong in both group and one-on-one combat. Their gear was of first-class quality, made of materials harvested from the monsters native to the Wortenia Peninsula. One could not be too careful around such an army.

Even the high-grade knights of the Eighteenth Order of the Temple Knights, the most elite unit of the Church of Meneos, didn’t have gear of such quality. While they could beat the Mikoshiba barony’s soldiers in a fight, they would take losses. All the members of the Church who witnessed the decisive battle a few days ago realized this.

This also applied to Cardinal Roland, who ordered the scouts to set out as if preparing to make some sacrifices. The report the scouts brought back was something the cardinal didn’t expect, though.

The Mikoshiba barony army stopped marching?

Cardinal Roland couldn’t mask his surprise at hearing that the Mikoshiba barony army stopped at a spot several kilometers away from their camp. As an army, the Mikoshiba barony’s forces had focused on swift offense and were also skilled at surprise attacks. This action gave Cardinal Roland the impression that they weren’t very experienced at attacking enemies from the front.

Is this supposed to mean they didn’t come here to fight? The doubt crossed his mind repeatedly, but there was no answering this question. Cardinal Roland then asked the captain of the scout unit, “Did they say that? That they’re not here to fight us?”

“Yes. On top of that, they gave us a letter...” said the captain, handing over a piece of paper.

“What is this?”

“A letter from Baron Mikoshiba.”

Indeed, the wax seal on the letter had the Mikoshiba barony’s emblem pressed onto it.

“So it seems. Very well. Good work, you may stand down.” Cardinal Roland asked the captain to leave the room. This letter was sensitive, and not knowing what the letter contained, he wanted the room to himself.

He slowly tore off the wax seal and read the letter.

I see... A meeting.

The suggestion was one Cardinal Roland didn’t anticipate, seeing that Ryoma’s past methods made a declaration of war more likely. Ryoma Mikoshiba carried an air of dangerous unpredictability, and everyone around him sensed that. And so Cardinal Roland was shocked but couldn’t remain in that state for long. He instead pondered the meaning of this letter.

I can understand him sending a messenger, but... No, if anything, him not contacting us until now is probably the strangest part. Asking for a meeting so suddenly? Is this some trap to lull us into being careless?

Under the secret pact between Cardinal Roland and Queen Lupis, the Church of Meneos participated in the northern subjugation but never fought on the battlefield. Their participation hinged on promoting the northern subjugation as fighting a holy war under the protection of the God of Light Meneos.

Cardinal Roland knowingly agreed to Queen Lupis’s suggestion because the pope ordered him to investigate Ryoma and his possible connection to the Organization. The war allowed him to do that up close.

And that was why the Church of Meneos deployed forces in the Battle of the Runoc Plains. They were stationed far from the front lines, at the Cannat Plains’ side of the battlefield. Even when the northern subjugation army retreated, they didn’t budge from their position.

It seemed like a cunning thing to do for a man of faith, but clergymen in this world were corrupt enough to be denied entry to whatever heaven they preached to. If one had no responsibilities to fulfill, they could spout any absurd sermons they wanted. Making those ideals a reality meant paying a high price and staining one’s hands in the world’s muck.

Having climbed to the rank of cardinal in the Church of Meneos, Roland knew this sad reality all too well. And this was why he couldn’t easily believe the contents of this letter. Then again, these kinds of negotiations presented a chance at profit.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained, as they say... This, too, is the will of God.

Considering that, Cardinal Roland returned to his desk, took out a quill, and read the date written in the letter—praying, all the while, for his god’s protection.

†

Two days later, the soldiers in the Church’s camp lined up and prepared to greet their guests. It was past 2 p.m., a perfect time for a meeting.

“They’re coming!”

At the sound of that call, the soldiers drew their swords and pointed them to the sky as etiquette demanded. Aside from the gestures reserved for the pope, the highest authority in the Church of Meneos, this was the highest degree of respect they could display.

The Mikoshiba barony’s messenger entered the camp to this welcome, accompanied by soldiers clad in black. Above their heads, their banner flapped imposingly in the wind.

“Welcome and well met!” said Cardinal Roland, walking out of the tent with a grin and personally greeting the group. “We greet you, Lord Bahenna.” His attitude was quite friendly, and if nothing else, wasn’t the way one would look at an enemy.

But no one can tell how much of this facade is honest, thought Koichiro.

One can make any display of friendliness while having malicious intentions. And the same could be said of Koichiro, who presented himself to Cardinal Roland under the alias Bahenna. Perhaps hiding his name and status made Koichiro’s situation worse.

Well, my name and status aren’t the only thing that’s fake.

Koichiro looked different from usual. His skin was as white as a Caucasian man’s, his hair and beard were blond, and he wore his hair in a bobbed style tied half up at the back rather than in his usual ponytail. His attire, too, changed from a Japanese style to an expensive noble’s outfit. The biggest change was to the color of his eyes.

His facial structure hadn’t changed, but few people would recognize Koichiro now. In that regard, there wasn’t a shred of truth to Koichiro’s story. He had assumed the identity of Jacob Bahenna, a relative of the deceased Viscount Bahenna.

House Bahenna was one of the ten houses of the north left ruined when Ryoma took over northern Rhoadseria. Koichiro’s cover story was that he, as Jacob Bahenna, took on the role of messenger to facilitate rebuilding his family’s status. Once this negotiation ended, this relative of House Bahenna would suddenly come down with illness and pass away, never to be seen again.

In other words, this was the first and last time Koichiro would play this role. The real Jacob Bahenna actually fell ill before Ryoma began his war against the northern regions and passed away shortly after the fighting began. They used his name since it only took a minor rearranging of the events to make the cover story plausible. Of course, Koichiro dropped no hint as to any of that as he answered the cardinal’s greeting.

“Your Holiness the Cardinal. I’m honored by you greeting me in person,” he said, bowing how Rhoadserian nobles were trained to do.

He was improvising, but his practice had paid off. Cardinal Roland answered his greeting with a smile.

“Oh, no, I’m always glad to welcome a new friend. No need to act reserved. Do come in.” Cardinal Roland gestured for him to enter the tent.

Koichiro followed him obediently. To those looking on, this looked like a formality between Cardinal Roland and a guest, but that was nothing but a falsehood. Koichiro held back a self-deprecating smile at how different he looked and dressed compared to usual. Though, he realized why this disguise was necessary.

I can’t let them recognize me as a member of the Organization.

The Church and the Organization were irreconcilable enemies. If Cardinal Roland learned of Koichiro’s position as a past member of the Organization, he would try to capture him to draw information out of him. And this was regardless of if he was a formal messenger for the Mikoshiba barony.

After all, the Church wouldn’t overlook any clue that might lead them to the Organization. The question was, why was there such a bitter rivalry between the two groups?

There are many reasons behind that, of course.

The biggest reasons were their vested interests in matters of power and money. The same reason that drove human conflict applied here and in Rearth. But this conflict didn’t start solely for such basic reasons.

The biggest one was that the Church used otherworld summoning to abduct many people like us and use us as slaves.

The Organization was mostly composed of otherworlders called into this world via the summoning spell. Of course, the church wasn’t the sole user of this spell. Many countries across this world used it, albeit on a different scale. But the Church of Meneos stood head and shoulders above the rest because they used it several times a year, even summoning over a hundred people.

The more they do it, the more people from our world get enslaved and subjected to their wrath, and the more people grow to hate and resent the Church. That’s what led many Organization members to look upon them with hostility.

To prevent more victims like them from turning up, the Organization kept an eye on the Church’s activities and tried to weaken it, cutting into the profits of their hated foe. It seemed like the natural conclusion. As time and their deception continued, the Church recognized someone was opposing them. Incidents written off as misfortunes were more than coincidence, so they began suspecting a third party.

The Church of Meneos and the Organization locked blades for the first time in an event now known as the Battle of Indigoa.

And because of that, the Church learned of our existence.

To this day the Church lacked definitive proof of the Organization’s existence, even if they understood a faction nearing their scale opposed them. In truth, they might have had enough proof; the assertion they lacked evidence was simply what high-ranking members of the Organization, like Zheng and Veronica, were made aware of. How deep the Church’s knowledge of the Organization ran was still a mystery.

They probably know nothing. Yet for all we know, they could be aware of the whereabouts and identities of Organization operatives.

If that were true, then Koichiro’s attempt at a disguise would have been pathetically laughable. But he had to save his beloved granddaughter, and he couldn’t afford to cause trouble for Ryoma.

I’m sure this looks like an absurd farce to an onlooker, but yes... thought Koichiro as he settled into the chair Cardinal Roland offered him.

“Well, let us get down to business, shall we?” said Cardinal Roland. “We would very much like to know why Baron Mikoshiba sent you as a messenger, Lord Bahenna. I am honored that a great hero like Baron Mikoshiba wishes to foster relations with us, but I must ask myself: why now?” Cardinal Roland looked at Koichiro with probing eyes.

Yes, right down to business. Not one to mince words, is he? Regarding swordsmanship, Koichiro was like a strong blade that sought to slay its foe with a single blow. He was the kind of man to force others to yield through reasoning and facts. It’s good for me, but if I’m careless, he could end up cornering me.

After noting this, Koichiro spoke up.

“Your Holiness, your doubts are understandable. Indeed, if we were to have sent you a messenger, the best time would have been just after we defeated the northern subjugation army. At the time, however, we were pursuing several noble armies that had stood idly by as we fought. Allowing them to return to the capital unscathed would have been a poor strategic choice. So cutting down their numbers was a reasonable decision, wouldn’t you agree?”

Koichiro paused there and flashed a nasty smile as he continued.

“The most important thing for us was to make an overwhelming display of power, one strong enough to make the more cowardly nobles consider surrender, you see.”

Cardinal Roland furrowed his brows slightly. Koichiro’s words stung and alluded to the fact that the Church of Meneos’s army did nothing during that battle. The description of “cowardly nobles” was likely directed at them and carried the implied question of why the Church didn’t send a messenger of its own after the dust had settled. He didn’t deny the validity of Koichiro’s question, because he couldn’t.

I suppose they could see it that way.

The Mikoshiba barony army was marching to lay siege to Pireas and had their eyes on the capital since before their clash with the northern subjugation army on the plains.

If they intend to lay siege to the city, it only makes sense to reduce the enemy’s numbers on the field.

And this led to another perspective. If the Mikoshiba barony planned this far ahead, why didn’t they attack the Church of Meneos’s camp? The answer became clear when one assumed that Ryoma had considered the future after the war.

Given that he passed our camp by, he has no intention of opposing the Church.

The Church of Meneos was a major religious group spanning the entire continent, but this didn’t mean its influence extended evenly. The southern countries had national policies of sending their newly crowned sovereigns to the Holy Qwiltantia Empire to be blessed by their own state church. Meanwhile, countries in the continent’s center, like the O’ltormean Empire, barely had any relations with the Church of Meneos. Qwiltantia and O’ltormea were rivals that fought over territory, which distanced the Church from that area. And the Church was openly hostile toward the Helnesgoula kingdom in the continent’s north. Neither O’ltormea nor Helnesgoula had outlawed the Church of Meneos, but those countries did not want to have political ties with it.

As such, it was inevitable that the farther a country was from the Holy City of Menestia, the weaker the Church’s influence would be. This was a world with limited means of travel, restricting the Church’s influence over the eastern countries and the overall continent.

Any retribution the Church exacted on a possible attack from the Mikoshiba barony would also be very limited.

This was clear from how deploying the Eighteenth Order of the Temple Knights took some effort. Since the Church had no sphere of influence within Rhoadseria, deploying larger armies would have been difficult, and Baron Mikoshiba surely knew that.

Such knowledge meant avoiding battle with the Church was part of his strategy for taking the capital. If he wanted to cull the enemy’s numbers ahead of the siege, the Church’s woodland unit would have made for the perfect prey. While the Temple Knights were quite strong, they were still only a single knight order. The knights who were effective on flatland would also have a disadvantage since the camp was in an area riddled with elevation changes.

If Ryoma recognized the Church as an enemy, he could have split off some of his army to attack their base.

In slaying nobles, he showed off his army’s power. What he’s trying to say is that it should have pressured us to send them a messenger instead.

It was quite the patronizing statement to make but not an inaccurate one. Cardinal Roland was looking for a reason to negotiate with them, and Koichiro’s statement made it easier to move things along.

“I understand Baron Mikoshiba’s misgivings. I apologize for your concerns, because of our negligence,” said Cardinal Roland. “However, we were bound by our word to Queen Lupis and had little choice but to participate in the northern subjugation. I must respectfully ask that you understand that.” He couldn’t formally apologize and expected the other side to understand.

Koichiro nodded and replied, “Then let us try to resolve this unfortunate misunderstanding. What say you to a discussion of our possibly fruitful future?”

Cardinal Roland curled his lips into a smile, likely trying to reclaim control over the conversation by taking off his mask as an agreeable, cooperative old man.

“Oh... A fruitful future, you say. I would like to see such a future between your lord and us, but...” Cardinal Roland trailed off and directed a probing gaze at Koichiro. “Is that truly what Baron Mikoshiba wants?”

His words carried with them the implicit question of whether Koichiro had the authority to make such decisions. Negotiating with a person who didn’t have the authority to make choices in his superior’s name was a waste of time.

Baron Mikoshiba probably has that in mind...

Intentionally making enticing offers and bringing the negotiations to a halt or backing out because of a lack of authority was an act that would only exhaust the other side. This happened in diplomacy and business but was a common stalling tactic on the battlefield. Without some collateral, Cardinal Roland was ready to call off the negotiations.

In response to that obvious question, Koichiro slowly took a letter out of his pocket and extended it to Cardinal Roland.

“What’s this...?”

Accepting the letter, Cardinal Roland looked at it suspiciously. The letter was five sheets of paper, and reading them all took a while. The sound of rustling filled the tent. When Cardinal Roland finished reading, he understood everything while feeling shocked.

Hmm, I understand... I might have made light of this man.

Cardinal Roland had underestimated Jacob Bahenna. He heard of the Bahenna viscounty as one of the ten houses of the north but also knew that Ryoma had defeated them. Moreover, Jacob lacked any martial glory like the Twin Blades of Count Salzberg or any renown to speak of. Jacob was just a plain man whose competency was questionable.

Jacob Bahenna could have just been another noble who fell from grace, one of many. And so, this man who was sent to handle negotiations wouldn’t have been entrusted with any choices or be justified in having such authority.

Given their initial conversation, Cardinal Roland wasn’t under the impression he was speaking to an incompetent man. He displayed etiquette worthy of Rhoadserian nobility, implying he had a proper education. If nothing else, this man wasn’t a hopeless, good-for-nothing member of a noble family.

But that didn’t make Jacob a good negotiator. Things might have been different if he were the head of the Bahenna viscounty. Even with no real merit, holding a formal position would have lent weight and credence to his words. His words carried no weight since he lacked both those and any notable achievements.

So I thought I’d have some harmless conversation with him before politely sending him away.

One could ask why Cardinal Roland greeted him with all the respect of a diplomatic guest, and the answer was to apply psychological pressure on him. Being welcomed warmly as a messenger would make Jacob hold a favorable opinion of the Church of Meneos while feeling that the Mikoshiba barony was inferior to them. Cardinal Roland knew that such psychological factors were more important than anything else in negotiations.

The letter from the Mikoshiba barony, aside from the demands detailed within it, flipped Cardinal Roland’s approach upside down.

They entrusted this man with full authority?

It was hard to believe, but the letter included the Mikoshiba barony’s emblem as a seal of approval. Cardinal Roland couldn’t write this letter’s contents off as a lie. They hadn’t entered formal diplomatic relations, and the Church of Meneos was only a religious group. As such, they didn’t have embassies but did engage in cross-national agreements.

Because Cardinal Roland dealt with an ambassador given full trust and authority, he had to change how he regarded this man. The cardinal folded the letter back to its previous state and respectfully handed it back to Koichiro.

He assumed I’d react like this the whole time, I’d wager.

The cardinal had his complaints about being tricked. Had Koichiro introduced the letter at the start of their exchange, Cardinal Roland would have treated him differently. He couldn’t say this out loud, but he would have taken action to have negotiations go smoothly. Nonetheless, Cardinal Roland bowed his head in apology, so as to minimize any harm done.

“My apologies for bringing up such trifling matters. I didn’t think Baron Mikoshiba had everything thought out to such an extent,” said Cardinal Roland.

It was an honest, heartfelt apology that Koichiro met with a magnanimous smile and replied, “Well, I’m afraid I’m not quite sure what you mean, Your Holiness. But if there were any misunderstandings, it seems they’ve been solved. I believe there’s no need to linger on them any longer.”

Koichiro’s choice to make a fuss here would have complicated matters, especially if he were reckless enough to do so in their initial negotiations. Seeing him take this attitude filled Cardinal Roland with relief.

I’ve heard they had demi-humans under their wing, so I expected them to take a more antagonistic approach...

This was the cardinal’s biggest point of concern with the Mikoshiba barony. He became especially anxious about the future when said concern played out during the previous battle. But his fears seemed unfounded.

While they have Wortenia’s dark elves under his employ, the Mikoshiba barony does not intend to fight the Church. At least not openly...

Cardinal Roland believed that there was room for negotiation here. He knew all too well that the biggest issue when negotiating was acting out of reckless emotion.

“Let’s begin the negotiations, then. Am I to understand that your demands are as detailed in the letter?”

“Yes. The Mikoshiba barony asks for the Church of Meneos’s neutrality in the coming battles and to remain reasonably uninvolved in its annexation of land in the war’s aftermath. These two points are what we request of you.”

“I see... Yes, that does match the contents of the letter.” Cardinal Roland placed a hand on his jaw pensively. Neutrality and noninterference... Both demands mean the same thing. So Baron Mikoshiba fears the possibility we’ll become involved in the war.

Usually, it would be natural to expect Baron Mikoshiba to ask that the Church ally with him. Despite the Church’s limited ability to deploy forces in the continent’s east, they could still mobilize one the size of a knight’s order. Also, having the Church of Meneos side with him would allow their side to claim that the mandate of heaven was on their side.

Of course, the weak and powerless priding themselves on having the gods on their side meant little. The mandate of heaven was, in the end, simply a claim or a symbol. But if the victor in a war were to have the divine by their side, it would force everyone to bend the knee and admit the legitimacy of their cause.

This declaration would be a powerful weapon for Ryoma to levy against the Rhoadserian nobles and citizens that opposed him. Some were wavering over whether to side with him, and knowing the gods were on his side could be what inspired them to give in.

Surely he knows that. In which case, he’s probably taking the demi-humans into consideration.

Cardinal Roland held no resentment toward demi-humans, but the creeds of the Church of Meneos had differing views. Even so, he wasn’t intent on hunting down every demi-human on the continent. So long as they lived in their isolated corner of the continent, harmless and out of sight, he didn’t mind their existence. Despite his high position, Roland did not blindly believe every single creed of the Church.

Whether he personally held any antagonism toward the demi-humans wasn’t the question or the problem here. The problem was that the Church of Meneos, as an organization, held up the expulsion of demi-humans as part of its doctrine.

What to do, then?

There were two choices to make here. One was to stick by the dogma of the Church and carry on the expulsion of demi-humans, even if it meant risking war with the Mikoshiba barony. The other was to delay handling the demi-humans and focus on immediate profit.

That said, Cardinal Roland’s mind was already made up. There would be no point to fighting Ryoma Mikoshiba here.

Cardinal Roland’s original goal was to gauge Ryoma’s capabilities, not go to war with the man. He only sided with Queen Lupis because he considered using her to further this task. Now that he had a pathway to negotiate with him, he had no intention of going to war with Ryoma out of duty to Queen Lupis. All that remained was to debate which concessions to make and what benefits he would get in exchange.

If the other cardinals learn of this, they’d likely try to get involved. Thankfully, the Church’s influence over the east is weak. If I can just get the pope’s approval, they won’t be able to act.

And if Cardinal Roland were to use his trump card, he’d be able to explain himself to the pope and get the approval he needed.

All that’s left is to decide what we’d get in exchange. The Church would generally ask for freedom to spread its religion. But they’re wary of us. Preaching within the Mikoshiba barony’s domain would be difficult. But if they admit that, the negotiations would end immediately.

Which raised the question, what else could they ask for?

The best I can come up with is an increase of trade using the Holy Qwiltantian Empire as a relay point, but honestly... This isn’t of much benefit to the Church proper.

An increase in trade with the Mikoshiba barony would surely benefit Qwiltantia, but it didn’t help the Church itself much. The Church of Meneos was only a religious organization, not a trading firm that dealt with financial activity or a government that dealt with running a country.

All organizations needed money to fund their activities, and the Church was no exception, but that didn’t mean they could resort to any means to earn that money. They could receive donations, but they could not trade under the name of the Church of Meneos. Doing so would make their pretense of honorable poverty and nobility crumble entirely.

But what option does that leave us with?

If he were speaking for the southern kingdoms, things would be simpler. For example, he could suggest Ryoma deploy his armies to help fend off the O’ltormean Empire, who was still trying to invade the southern regions.

However, that wasn’t a reasonable request because the Mikoshiba barony governed the Wortenia Peninsula. Even if he did, they would refuse point-blank or send a small army to take care of it. And that kind of deal wasn’t worth bending the Church’s creeds for.

Should I perhaps leave this discussion for another day?

The safest option would be to take his time and try another day, given the unexpected direction the conversation had gone. At the same time, the experienced Cardinal Roland sensed that today was when these negotiations were most likely to bear fruit.

Cardinal Roland decided to believe in his intuition. But as he thought things through, a doubt surfaced in his mind. Wait. To begin with, what area does the Mikoshiba barony’s domain cover?

Currently, the Mikoshiba barony’s domain contained the Wortenia Peninsula and the northern region of Rhoadseria, with the citadel city of Epirus at its center. Depending on the success of their conquest, at least half of Rhoadseria would fall to the Mikoshiba barony’s control. Potentially, their control could extend to all of Rhoadseria.

But is that actually what’s going to happen?

This would come across as an absurd idea, but war was much like economic activity. When sales were good, one earned plenty, and winning in war meant gaining more territory. In what world would an authority figure who keeps winning in war let land fall back into the enemy’s hands? People sought victory and were willing to sacrifice anything to grasp it.

But there are two exceptions to that.

One was when one experienced a crushing defeat. Depending on how many losses one took, they could decide they lacked the resources to fight any longer. In this case, one didn’t stop fighting of their own will, but outside factors forced them to do so.

The other reason was that one achieved their tactical objective. In that case, one would seek a settlement rather than focus on winning more battles. Which of these two was Ryoma, then?

Is he the type to stop once he reaches the place he needs or a man who tries to control everything?

But at that moment, Cardinal Roland had a revelation of sorts. After a few moments of silence, Koichiro spoke to Cardinal Roland, who had clammed up so suddenly.

“Is something the matter?” he asked, his voice full of concern and encouragement.

Though, his status as an ambassador didn’t make him criticize Cardinal Roland for forgetting him and becoming lost in thought.

“Oh, pardon... But yes, I just got my thoughts in order.”

“Really? That’s good to hear... May I ask for your answer?”

Cardinal Roland nodded in response and calmly said, “As for your request for neutrality, that should be fine. It would just extend our current status quo.”

Had Meltina and Mikhail been present, they would have vehemently protested this extreme statement. At their core, these words declared that he was turning his back on Queen Lupis. But in her current situation, Queen Lupis had little influence, so he didn’t feel inclined to side with her.

“Hm, yes... Indeed. And what about the other condition, the noninterference?”

The term noninterference implied that the Church of Meneos would pull its troops out of Rhoadseria. If they left too many troops in the country, it would make their claims of neutrality ring hollow. But Cardinal Roland couldn’t easily accept this condition. The Church of Meneos’s influence over the east was feeble, and he couldn’t easily make a choice to make it any weaker.

If nothing else, we’ll need some guarantee that we can return to Rhoadserian soil after the war. This was why Cardinal Roland took so long to consider his answer when searching for a middle ground, he asked Koichiro, “There’s something I’d like to confirm before I give my answer to that. Do you mind?”

“Of course not. Go ahead.”

Cardinal Roland smiled in response.

“It’s just, you mentioned noninterference, but is that limited to the Mikoshiba barony’s domain?”

Just then, Cardinal Roland noticed the way Koichiro furrowed his brows. Had he been a less experienced negotiator, he would have missed it. Koichiro immediately regained his smile, but that momentary tell was all Cardinal Roland needed.

Mhm... It’s like I thought.

Having grasped the Mikoshiba barony’s intent, Cardinal Roland could confidently deal the hand that would turn the tables.

“You see, in exchange for our noninterference, we would like to demand that—should you win the war—you allow us to station the Temple Knights within the Kingdom of Rhoadseria.”

This seemed like a meaningless wish. Ryoma Mikoshiba was on the verge of destroying Rhoadseria, after all, which meant it would become his domain. The land would fall under the agreement to uphold noninterference.

Upon hearing this, Koichiro laughed out in amusement, but then his face drained of expression as he looked at the cardinal.

“I see, within the Kingdom of Rhoadseria, you say...”

Koichiro did not budge an inch on his stance, as it would strengthen the Church of Meneos’s influence. The move wasn’t an issue in the short-term, but it would be a bad play for Ryoma in the long term. He wasn’t so foolish as to impede his grandson’s path to conquest, so he firmly spoke his mind.

“The Mikoshiba barony would rather avoid having the Church of Meneos’s soldiers stationed within Rhoadserian borders.”

The two glared at each other with gazes that could have sparks flying between them if they had physical force. They spent a few seconds like this before Koichiro let out a sigh.

“I’m afraid we cannot consent to your stationing the Temple Knights. This is something we cannot budge on. We can, however, cooperate with the Church’s intention of spreading its faith in the country.”

“Meaning?” Cardinal Roland asked curiously.

“What say you to us building more church buildings to facilitate your faith?”

“Build churches, you say?”

That was an unexpected answer.

“Yes,” replied Koichiro at Roland’s confusion. “There are few Meneos churches built in Rhoadseria, and even the ones in the capital are not particularly large. We can assume that your faith’s influence over this country isn’t very strong, right?”

Cardinal Roland’s expression filled with doubt, and Koichiro drove the conversation further, taking advantage of this newly discovered weakness.

“We can begin by expanding the number of churches, no? And we will cooperate actively with the construction efforts. The governors of the different fiefdoms are bound to react badly to Temple Knights being stationed in their territory. It shouldn’t be hard to convince them to build churches.”

“I see...” responded Cardinal Roland, apparently convinced by this explanation. He’s right. There aren’t many churches in Rhoadseria since it’s quite far from the Holy City... Acting on this suggestion isn’t too bad for us.

Cardinal Roland cradled his jaw, looking like he was mulling the offer over. In truth, he had already decided.

Stationing the Temple Knights within the country would look bad diplomatically. It would create the preconceived notion we’re planning military action.

If the barony agreed to let the Church station the Temple Knights there, they would have to build a base somewhere. This would certainly spark friction between them and the residents and governors.

But if it’s building new churches, that won’t raise any alarm bells.

Rhoadseria’s churches were few, and compared to a more pious country like Qwiltantia, they differed in scale. The same was true even of Pireas’s churches.

When Cardinal Roland stayed in the capital, he had to stay at an inn called the Mars Pavilion, unlike how he would usually stay at a local church. The reason he stayed at an inn was clear. The capital’s churches were run-down buildings in the slums, meaning the Temple Knights and the cardinal being there was a risk in terms of crime prevention.

In that regard, building more churches in Rhoadseria sounded like a fine idea. Considering that the Church of Meneos had no significant foothold in the continent’s East, this would make for quite the accomplishment.

That wasn’t to say there were no shortcomings to this offer either. Building churches instead of military bases meant their capacity to accommodate people would be quite different. Even if the Church were to station Temple Knights there under the pretext of security, they’d be limited in how many they could send. That said, they could build far more churches than bases across Rhoadseria’s vast domain.

A church could only accommodate ten or so knights at best. Stationing a unit of a hundred knights would only be a pipe dream. Even if they tried to build a large church to this end, the Mikoshiba barony wouldn’t stand by and let them.

Still, we’ll be able to spread our roots into the east. That alone is major... I’m sure this will satisfy the pope.

No advantages or disadvantages existed with this choice, and it was perfectly possible to see this as leading to a temporary decrease in the Church’s influence over Rhoadseria. But Cardinal Roland could see how making a pact here could promise profit in the future. It was an investment, in a sense, and Cardinal Roland wouldn’t hesitate.

“I understand what you’re getting at. After all, I might have been a bit impulsive. We are willing to accept if you can promise an increase in the number of churches and allow us to preach within the kingdom,” said Cardinal Roland, rising from his seat and extending a hand to Koichiro.

“Yes, I believe that this was a very fruitful negotiation,” responded Koichiro, accepting the cardinal’s hand.

The two shook hands firmly. Sadly, their discussion wasn’t over as they needed to draft a formal document detailing the terms of their agreement, and have their representatives sign it in a ceremony. The question was when they were to hold that ceremony.

“Now, as for the date for the signing... Do you have any suggestions, Lord Bahenna?” Cardinal Roland asked, leveling a probing glance at Koichiro.

Signing the contract was no guarantee the Mikoshiba barony would honor their deal. As of the moment, this was nothing but a verbal promise. In confirming the date with Koichiro, he tested how serious they were about this truce.

They’d probably ask for three months to half a year if this negotiation was a trap.

Diplomatically speaking, the parties would agree and take three to six months to arrange a signing ceremony. Depending on the contents of the pact, it could take even longer than that. It was rare for the signing to occur shortly after the initial agreement.

Real estate was a good example of this. In lease agreements, preliminary inspections took place before a finalized purchase and the ceding of the property. This was done to confirm no discrepancies with the terms of the agreement or the large sums exchanged.

The same was true in diplomacy. However, in this particular battlefield and this particular war, three to six months was much too long.

Two weeks to a month is about what I’d expect. Based on Cardinal Roland’s experience, this seemed like the appropriate amount of time. But Koichiro’s answer exceeded his expectations.

“Yes, well, we believe it’s best to strike while the iron is hot, so what say you to seven days from now?”

“Oh... Why, that’s quite...” said Cardinal Roland as his eyes widened in amazement.

A signing would normally have taken months to arrange, so hearing him say that was unexpected. Koichiro, though, remained composed.

“We’re in the middle of a war, so we should decide on matters like this sooner rather than later. There’s no telling what might happen. For example, information about this leaking to Lupis Rhoadserians. So we’d like to abbreviate the formalities and sign this pact as soon as possible.”

Cardinal Roland smiled and said, “Understandable. Indeed, I imagine Baron Mikoshiba will be busy going forward.”

While surprised, Cardinal Roland didn’t oppose formalizing the signing in a week and accepted Koichiro’s suggestion soon enough.

Like he said, it’s best to strike while the iron is hot.

Unfortunately, Cardinal Roland failed to realize that believing he had the upper hand in these negotiations created an opening in his heart. The man smiling before him, who had assumed the name of Jacob Bahenna, had another agenda in mind.