Wortenia Senki (LN) - Volume 8 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Vixen of the North 

Ryoma and Orson Greed were guided toward a room, and were now standing before its door, where a man greeted them with a grin. But Ryoma could tell that behind that smile, his eyes were alight with fierce will. 

“So you are Lord Ryoma Mikoshiba and Sir Orson Greed... I’ve heard you were messengers from Xarooda...” The man eyed Ryoma appraisingly. “You’re quite young. You must be quite capable, to have been entrusted with the will of a country.” 

Despite their sudden visit, his expression didn’t betray a hint of displeasure. 

“The long journey must have been quite exhausting. Why don’t you come in and have some tea and sweets?” 

With that said, the man motioned for Ryoma and Orson to enter the guest room and take a seat on a sofa, as if to say this was all planned ahead of time. 

They really did predict our arrival... Well, if they couldn’t do that, there’d be no point in us dealing with them to begin with, Ryoma whispered to himself upon seeing the man’s expression. 

As soon as they introduced themselves at the castle gates, they were ushered in without being asked to show any proof of their identity, and then led to this room. That alone made it clear that Helnesgoula’s people were keeping an eye on Ryoma, or at least gathering information on his actions. 

Even with their cloaks embroidered with the Xaroodian royal house’s coat of arms, they were still allowed inside. Anyone could probably prepare cloaks like these without much trouble, so they could not have counted as indisputable evidence of their allegiance... 

“My apologies for not introducing myself first... I am Arnold Grisson. My rank is that of a general of Helnesgoula’s military, and my position is supreme commander of the eastern front.” 

Arnold Grisson was a thin man with a pale face. He looked to be in his late thirties, and while he was roughly 180 centimeters tall, his body couldn’t be called muscular. Looking at the back of his hand, Ryoma noticed it was frail, which implied the man wasn’t quite healthy. 

His blond hair was parted down the middle, but despite his youth there were already a few white strands here and there. Perhaps a result of stress and concern, Ryoma reckoned. He wore a pair of silver-rimmed glasses, and overall his appearance didn’t give the impression that Arnold Grisson was a man of war. If he were to introduce himself as a merchant or a scholar, Ryoma would find it easier to believe. 

But his eyes alone told a completely different story. Sharp, blue eyes that seemed to pierce into others, like an eagle’s. 

“We sincerely apologize for the sudden visit, Sir Grisson,” Ryoma bowed politely after taking a seat. “The Kingdom of Xarooda is currently under threat of ruin, so we ask that you pardon us for coming without notice. I am Ryoma Mikoshiba. Sitting beside me is the captain of Xarooda’s Monarch’s Guard, Sir Orson Greed.” 

“Oh...” Grisson remarked, gazing at Ryoma’s face calmly. “For one so young, you do abide by etiquette. I’ve heard you were originally of commoner status, but you’ve grown accustomed to your position, I see.” 

Grisson then took off his glasses and wiped the lenses clean. His remark didn’t carry any malicious nuance to it. It seemed his opinion of Ryoma was positive, in fact. 

I wonder if that’s how he really feels, though... Ryoma pondered suspiciously. 

Ryoma knew that in this world, believing what people said at face value was exceedingly dangerous. That was all the more true when the person in question was a noble. So while this man’s attitude seemed quite amicable, Ryoma knew he could very well be hiding his true intentions. Perhaps he looked down on Ryoma with disdain, just like Xarooda’s nobles did. 

Ryoma had seen time and again that the influential people in this world had a tendency to be impulsive. They believed themselves privileged and protected by this world’s class system, and so they felt no need to regulate the way they addressed others. 

Nobles were, for the most part, haughty, cold-hearted, cruel monsters. 

But even that reality had its exceptions. But apparent exceptions could present a friendly exterior as a way of cloaking their lethal, venomous fangs. Regardless of Arnold Grisson’s true intentions, Ryoma couldn’t afford to relax right now. The negotiations were still ahead of him. 

I’ll need to be especially careful of him... 

Ryoma steeled himself in case some unexpected opponent might try to strike out at him. Of course, he knew better than to let it show. He, too, was capable of hiding his heart and faking a smile. 

First, I’ll need to seize control of the conversation and see what his attitude is like. 

And to do just that, Ryoma cut straight to the heart of the matter. 

“My apologies, but we’re quite pressed for time, so I’ll need to get straight to the point of our visit here.” 

Making one’s intent so clear wasn’t conventional in negotiations, but put conversely, that alone is precisely why it would catch the other side by surprise. And a surprised person could accidentally reveal their own true intentions. 

But this negotiation wasn’t the kind of place where such a childish trick could work. 

“Very well. I, myself, do not have the time for leisurely chatter.” Grisson shrugged, prompting Ryoma to go ahead. 

“Our business here is quite simple. We ask that the Kingdom of Helnesgoula assist us, as we are currently in a position of inferiority in our war with O’ltormea,” Ryoma said. 

Grisson raised an eyebrow shrewdly, his expression seemingly somewhat surprised. The cold smile on his lips, though, reflected his true feelings. 

“Hoh. You ask for our assistance, you say...” General Grisson whispered. 

“Yes... Please.” Ryoma nodded curtly. 

The two glared at each from across the table for a moment, a silence settling over them. It was as if they were trying to discern each other’s intentions. But then, Grisson abruptly parted his lips. 

“Yes, I suppose that given Xarooda’s current predicament, you wouldn’t come here for any other business...” Grisson cut off there, his lips curling into a sneer. “But you are persistent. This is like being pestered by a beggar in the slums.” 

His voice was serene and collected, but the disdain contained in his words was intense. Even if his country was great enough to be called the Beast of the North, speaking like that to another country’s diplomatic envoy was unacceptable. 

Those words were a powerful blow — the kind one would only deliver when prepared to go to war. 

And that was why those words were likely a summation of his true intent. No... Not just his. It was likely the true intent of Helnesgoula’s leadership. 

“How dare you!” Greed shouted in outrage. 

True, it was his side that came asking for help, and Greed knew full well that since he came as Xarooda’s representative, his words and actions had implications on the entire kingdom. But even still, he couldn’t tolerate Grisson’s insult. 

But as Greed rose to his feet in anger, Ryoma raised a hand to stop him. He then turned his eyes to Grisson, as if nothing had happened. If Ryoma was right about Helnesgoula’s intentions, their lack of patience and use of such language was understandable. 

To begin with, Xarooda was in a position where it was asking Helnesgoula for assistance. If such a cheap provocation was enough to stir up their anger, they wouldn’t be able to act properly when the need called for it. 

And besides, he’s probably testing our character and motives. 

Intentionally angering the other side to gauge their reaction was a tactic Ryoma used often. And so he knew that succumbing to anger and expressing their indignation here would be a poor move. Grisson would only take advantage of them that way. 

“I’m sure it feels that way, after all this time...” Ryoma said, as if nothing was wrong. 

Grisson pleasantly raised an eyebrow. It seemed he sensed something in the smooth way Ryoma sidestepped his insult. 

“It’s been the better part of a year since we’ve occupied Memphis. You’ve sent us many messengers, asking that we come to Xarooda’s aid. I think that alone should tell you all you need to know of our policy on the matter.” 

“Yes, I understand that much. From your perspective, having O’ltormea occupy Xarooda first would be convenient. Stabilizing the territory after the country falls would take them time, and that’s when you plan to strike... Right?” 

General Grisson laughed heartily, with an expression far darker than anything he’d shown so far. It was the laughter of a carnivore, licking his lips expectantly at the sight of prey. 

“I see you’ve guessed at our intentions, Lord Mikoshiba... You’re as shrewd as the rumors say. Hmm, it wasn’t for nothing that you rose up to noble status from your humble origins at such a young age. Your grasp on the situation is impressive.” 

Grisson then cut off his words, and raised the teacup on the table to his lips before continuing. 

“You’re quite right. We have no interest in Xarooda’s survival. Given the situation, the most Xarooda can offer us is a cession of their territory, but that’s not enough to tip the scales into balance... At least not when all-out war with O’ltormea is on the other side, hmm?” 

The moment those words reached his ears, all the color drained from Greed’s face. That was the worst thing he could have heard. But in contrast to Greed, Ryoma calmly and carefully repeated Grisson’s words in his mind. 

It’s just like I thought... In that case... 

General Grisson’s words had truth to them. Helnesgoula had no reason to save Xarooda, at least not to the extent where they’d willingly lock blades with O’ltormea. Rather than accept half-baked terms like cession of some territory, it’d be that much easier for them to let O’ltormea occupy the country, and then reoccupy it under the banner of ‘liberation.’ 

Of course, it would take the right timing to do so. It would only work before O’ltormea’s occupation regime established itself, when hatred and unrest festered in the hearts of Xarooda’s commoners. 

So long as the Xaroodian citizens living in the territories weren’t all slaughtered or forced to migrate elsewhere, a new ruler would always be forced to contend with the possibility of revolt. This was why Helnesgoula showed no movements in the year that passed since they occupied the border town, Memphis. 

But Ryoma could tell Grisson hadn’t divulged the full depth of their plans. 

“Of course not.” 

Ryoma affirmed Grisson’s statement without changing his expression whatsoever. This made Grisson’s expression change. His eyes filled with confusion and suspicion. Ryoma’s attitude and words were incoherent and contradictory. At least, that was the only way Grisson could interpret them. 

“This is peculiar...” Grisson cocked his head. “It seems you’ve read the situation ahead of time... But if you understand our goals, you must realize we don’t intend to send reinforcements to Xarooda. In which case, what did you come here for?” 

Grisson couldn’t fathom why a man who understood Helnesgoula’s intentions so well would come to them in the middle of a war. 

“To ask for your help, of course,” Ryoma said. 

“I see. So I’m to interpret this as your way of saying that you’re prepared?” Grisson directed a questioning glance at Ryoma. 

“If by prepared, you mean that we’re willing to become a vassal state of yours, Sir Grisson, I’m afraid to inform you that you’re wrong.” Ryoma simply shrugged at him. 

At the sounds of those words, Grisson’s face contorted for the first time. His features were full of anger, disdain, and mockery. This was by no means a surprising reaction. If anything, given the flow of the conversation, the fact that Grisson didn’t fly into a rage was nothing short of a fortunate coincidence. 

“I see now that you’ve come here to make a mockery of us...” Grisson rose from his seat, as if to bring the conversation to an end. “And while it was a pleasant exchange, to be sure, I do think drawing it out any longer would be a waste of time. I apologize, since you’ve come from afar, but I must ask that you leave.” 

“What?! Wait!” Greed, who had simply watched over the exchange so far, couldn’t help but raise his voice. 

He’d been briefed ahead of time, but Ryoma was entrusted with handling the negotiations. Greed knew he wasn’t suited for these kinds of matters, and so he sat quietly and watched over the talks. But the negotiations were on the verge of falling apart. Greed couldn’t help but say something. 

“Is there anything else to speak of? I fail to see how you two are any different from any other messenger you’ve sent to us this year,” Grisson said bitterly. 

His voice was as cold as a blade of ice, meant to cut down the other party. Faced with that frozen anger, Greed couldn’t say anything more. But Ryoma, by contrast, hadn’t changed his expression one bit. 

“This farce is over. Leave,” Grisson said, directing a dagger-like gaze at Ryoma. 

That was an absolute order. Despite the fact this young man seemed too thin to be a warrior, Grisson was a general in charge of Helnesgoula’s eastern front. Any ordinary man would be forced to obey. 

Ryoma’s expression, however, did not change. 

This is where I do or die... 

Ryoma took a deep breath to calm himself, and used the final ace he’d prepared for this situation. 

“I see... In that case, I’d have you let me speak to Helnesgoula’s ruler, Her Majesty Queen Grindiana. Right here, right now.” 

The moment those words left Ryoma’s lips, the air in the room froze over. Grisson and Ryoma glared at each other from across the table. Ten seconds passed, then 20... A mechanical clock resting on one of the room’s fixtures alone counted the passage of time, with its ticking feeling much louder than it should have been. The oppressive atmosphere made time slow to an interminable crawl. 

What did he just say...?! Grisson repeated Ryoma’s words in his heart as a shiver ran down his spine. 

The queen of Helnesgoula, Grindiana Helnecharles, was currently nowhere near this frontline city of Memphis. She was in Dreisen, the kingdom’s capital. That was the one and only truth the young man standing before him should have known. 

Most of Helnesgoula’s own citizens should have known that much, too. And so, what the boy gazing directly at him had just said should have been nonsense. He thought to heartily laugh off what Ryoma had just said as nonsense, but before he knew it, his throat had dried and clogged. His voice wouldn’t come out. Grisson lifted the teacup from the table and carried it to his lips, doing his finest to hide his agitation. 

It can’t be. Did he really see through Her Majesty’s intentions? 

Spies and merchants had already reported to him news of this young man, stating he was exceedingly intelligent and sharp. So much so, that despite his origins as a commoner, his intellect was enough to overturn the fate of an entire country... 

But perhaps Grisson underestimated the validity of those reports. He admitted Ryoma was bright, but the idea of someone being a match for the mistress he served was unthinkable. 

No, impossible... Him reading through her ploys would mean he’s a match for her wisdom. And that can’t be... 

At that moment, the boy smiling composedly before him looked like a monster to Grisson. A monster in human form, not unlike his mistress, Grindiana. 

“Th-That cannot be arranged... Her Majesty is in Dreisen...” Grisson broke the silence, finally managing to utter the words. 

But his voice lacked the same intensity it had earlier. And upon seeing Grisson’s expression change, Ryoma knew he’d won this gamble. 

“She’s at Dreisen, you say...?” Ryoma smirked. “I don’t think that’s possible.” 

His piercing gaze made Grisson contort his face angrily. 

“What basis have you to suggest that...” 

Up until now, Grisson had control of the situation. But now, things had completely turned around. The boy sitting on the sofa before him had complete command of the conversation. Grisson never intended to look down on Ryoma and assume he was an ignorant whelp, but this exceeded his wildest assumptions. 

Grisson directed an almost pleading look at the mirror hanging in the room... Unintentionally. 

“I have my reasons... But I’d rather explain them to Queen Grindiana. It would save me trouble.” 

“Th-That’s...” 

Grisson was once again rendered speechless. He could neither confirm nor deny those suspicions. 

“Well, this is a problem...” Ryoma said in a rather bothered manner. 

He couldn’t afford to waste his time on a person without any authority. Instead, Ryoma turned his gaze to the mirror on the wall. 

“I’m sure you’re aware of this, but we don’t have much time,” he said. 

Grisson went pale upon realizing the meaning behind his gaze and words. 

He’s... How?! 

A negotiation could very well be called a battle where each side tries to gauge the other’s intentions. And by whatever magic he used, this man somehow realized the mechanism behind the room they were in. And that meant that he truly and honestly understood Helnesgoula’s plans. 

And more than anything, it meant that Ryoma won the preliminary battle that was this meeting. And yet, he didn’t hurry or press the issue at this point. 

“But I suppose appearing so suddenly and asking to see the queen would be rude of us... I suppose we’ll do as you said, General, and head back for today...” 

With that said, Ryoma rose from the sofa and urged Greed, whose eyes were bolting in every direction in confusion, to follow him. 

“Let’s go, Captain Greed. We should make ourselves scarce.” 

Ryoma then bowed respectfully at the mirror, and headed for the door. Only Grisson and one other person understood the meaning behind that gesture. 

“H-Hey, wait!” Greed hurriedly bowed at Grisson and took after Ryoma. 

Even without knowing the details, his intuition as a seasoned knight spurred him to obey Ryoma. 

“We’ll take our leave, then. Our subordinates have taken up lodging in Memphis’s castle town. We will inform you of the inn’s name later. I apologize, General Grisson, but I’d appreciate it if you could relay word of me to Queen Grindiana.” 

Bowing his head respectfully once more, Ryoma turned the room’s doorknob. But his hand then suddenly stopped — when the voice of a third party, which supposedly wasn’t in this room — rang out. 

“You can do away with your attempts to bait out a reaction. I’m sure we’re both sick and tired of this farce.” 

Ryoma turned out, where he was faced by a woman who wasn’t standing there a moment ago. 

So that’s where she came out of... 

Ryoma noticed one of the bookcases was now slanted. She was likely observing Ryoma through the one-sided mirror. And having judged he was worth negotiating with, she left the adjacent hidden room. 

“I’ve heard all sorts of reports about you,” the woman said, a delighted smile on her lips. “A young hero of the Kingdom of Rhoadseria, and an otherworlder summoned by the Empire of O’ltormea. That is you, isn’t it? Ryoma Mikoshiba.” 

Her voice was as fair as a bell’s chime, but full of the desire to see others fall prostrate before her. She stood beside Grisson, radiating an overwhelming sense of presence. Ryoma simply bowed his head, his expression collected and calm. 

“I’m honored to bear witness to your countenance, Your Majesty the Queen, Grindiana Helnecharles.” 

As Ryoma looked at the woman and the glittering crown resting on her head, Helnesgoula’s young queen, Grindiana Helnecharles, parted her lips in an elegant smile. 

“Then, let’s start this talk over, shall we?” 

Grindiana sat on the sofa, looking at Ryoma, who sat opposite of her. 

Hmm... I see. 

Ryoma looked back at the smiling queen sitting before him. True to what he’d heard, she could not be called a beautiful woman. Her white dress was adorned with lace and gemstones, but in terms of her features and personal appearance, there could be no comparing her to Lupis or Shardina. 

That said, if one were asked if she was an ugly woman, the answer would have to be no. If nothing else, anyone who would go so far as to call her a plain-looking woman would likely only do so out of some kind of personal grudge. Her well-combed golden hair undulated gracefully, and the blue eyes sitting atop her almond-shaped face were alight with an intense will that seemed to tug at one’s attention. 

She’s pretty, but not too beautiful. 

Her features were certainly fair, at least by Ryoma’s standards. But while she lacked the dignified beauty Shardina and Lupis were graced with, she did have a certain attractive charm. A certain atmosphere that induced friendliness. A face that made people like her more easily. She looked to be somewhere between her mid twenties and edging into the thirties. But it felt like she could have even been 10 years older, but skilled enough to hide that age. 

“Then, where should we start?” Ryoma replied to her question without any reservation. 

Grindiana’s eyes widened for a moment before she let out an amused chuckle. Ryoma’s demeanor was far too direct, given he was speaking to a country’s queen for the first time. 

Maybe I can expect even more out of him than I thought. 

She hated nothing more than having to deal with fools. 

“Let’s see, then. Grisson seems rather flustered, so perhaps you could explain how you knew I was here in Memphis. You’re all right with that, yes, Grisson?” Grindiana turned her eyes to Grisson, who stood beside her. 

He simply nodded wordlessly, after which Ryoma began speaking. 

“Honestly speaking, I didn’t know you were here beforehand. I simply considered the conditions, and assumed you must have had some kind of tightly-knit way of staying in touch with Grisson, who’s stationed here in Memphis.” 

“In other words, I can take this as you saying you understand my goal here?” 

“Maybe not in its entirety, but... For the most part, yes. I think I do.” 

Ryoma nodded quietly, and spread out a map of the western continent on the table. Seeing his attitude, Grindiana clapped her hands, her eyes gleaming gleefully. She felt like a child who had just been presented with the Christmas gift she wanted most. 

“I like you. I’ve wasted a precious year of my life, giving these buffoons from Xarooda all the clues they’d need and then some, but they still wouldn’t get it... Honestly speaking, I’d been starting to ask myself if they’re trying to get themselves destroyed by O’ltormea. Imagine setting up a puzzle and it remaining unsolved forever. Could anything be more painfully anticlimactic?” 

Despite speaking of the fate of an entire country, Grindiana’s tone was as light as if she was engaged in small talk. The contents of what she was saying, though, were unbearably heavy. 

“Well, if that were to happen, I’d simply adapt myself to that situation... Right?” she appended meaningfully. 

The words were spoken so lightly and naturally that one could easily have misheard them. And upon seeing that, Ryoma confirmed his suspicions were true. 

So she set up matters so that no matter how the chips fall, she’ll be fine... No wonder they call her a vixen. 

She was capable enough to manage a large kingdom like Helnesgoula at her young age; that much was indisputable fact. 

“Then let’s hear your answer,” Grindiana said, her eyes shining like a child faced with a toy. 

From her perspective, what Ryoma was about to embark on was the cracking of a puzzle and nothing else. 

“All right, then... The first thing I noticed is that Helnesgoula raised its army swiftly and declared war, but stopped after occupying Memphis.” Ryoma’s thick finger drew a circle around Helnesgoula’s position on the map. “It probably goes without saying, but if O’ltormea were to end up taking Xarooda, Helnesgoula would be pincered between its strongest rivals on three fronts — east, west and south. To the north you have the sea, but in the interest of Helnesgoula’s national defense, Xarooda falling isn’t something you can tolerate. But even still, you stopped your armies in Memphis, which felt like an appeal for negotiations.” 

“Hmm. Yes, your analysis is correct there.” Grindiana gave a satisfied nod. 

True enough, O’ltormea occupying Xarooda’s territories wasn’t a situation Helnesgoula could ignore. But even so, Helnesgoula’s interests in Xarooda were too slim for them to offer honest cooperation. If they were to offer assistance simply in the name of securing the country, the kingdom’s subjects would be discontent. 

Grindiana needed something more, something tangible, as recompense for her help... But that compensation was the biggest hurdle. 

Xarooda was a country built on mountainous terrain, and as such, its lands were unsuitable for food production. But on the other hand, the precipitous peaks of the country yielded high-quality minerals, especially iron. And so, the country boasted high-quality metallurgy methods and blacksmiths capable of producing exquisite gear. 

In light of that, if they were to offer Helnesgoula anything, rights regarding ownership of the mines would be the most apt compensation. But with that gone, Xarooda wouldn’t have any other industries to fall back on, and so doing this would effectively be a killing blow to the country. 

Furthermore, the actual rights for the mines mostly belonged to the nobles who controlled the territories the mines were in. And while they might have been loyal to the Kingdom of Xarooda, the nobles were fundamentally self-sufficient and weren’t absolutely obedient to the king’s orders. If anything, the royal house was only nominally ranked as the leader of the nobles. 

And so, despite the country teetering on the edge of destruction, the Xaroodian royal house had no right to single-handedly divest the nobles of their property. And if they were to try to do it by force, the nobles would rise up in revolt, tearing the country apart before O’ltormea even invaded. 

Julianus I was known as the mediocre king, and it was clear to see why. At best, he filled the role of arbiter or supervisor for the country, but in reality, he most certainly was not its sovereign. 

“And it’s because we knew this that we brought up the cession of territories from Xarooda as a condition.” 

Grindiana turned her gaze to Ryoma with a mischievous smile. Her eyes were full with the dark, mysterious glow of a schemer. 

“Yes. It probably broke those little fools’ hearts to choose to do it, and I’m sure they think it’s the greatest, most painful concession they could ever make... But the fact that they thought they could get me to work for so little just shows they underestimate me.” 

“You don’t think it’s worth it...?” 

“Of course I don’t,” Grindiana heaved an exasperated sigh. “Especially considering they’d be pushing the management of all those rebellious nobles onto me. And all the lands they offered up for cession were areas where the yearly yield has diminished over the last few years. Anyone can see those mines are going to close down in a few years. But those fools probably thought I wouldn’t notice... See what I mean?” 

Xarooda offered up most of its northern territories for annexation, roughly a fifth of the kingdom’s total territory, making it a fairly large tract of land. But the true profit to be had in Xarooda’s lands wasn’t the farmlands, but the mines. And if said mines were slowly waning, there would be no point in Helnesgoula sending out reinforcements. 

“At that point, you’d be better off waiting until O’ltormea takes over the land, and attack once the regime there is unstable due to the change in government,” Ryoma said. “That way, you’ll have an easy excuse to get rid of the nobles, and Helnesgoula would be greeted as a hero who liberated the country from O’ltormea’s tyranny.” 

Greed held his breath despite himself. This had already been explained to him, but this story was too cruel for his ears as a servant of Xarooda. It was as if he’d been told that the survival of his country was a trivial matter. But even with her intentions directly stated, Grindiana didn’t seem the slightest bit apologetic. 

“That’s the obvious choice, isn’t it? I am, after all, the queen of Helnesgoula. I need a good reason to order my soldiers to march to their deaths.” 

Grindiana shrugged in a jesting manner, and the sight of it filled Greed with an inexplicable sort of horror, utterly different from anything he’d felt on the battlefield. Her lips were curled into a smile, but her eyes projected the severe gaze of a ruler burdened with the lives of her subjects. 

“I can’t say that’s the most optimal play you could have made, though,” Ryoma said. 

“Oh? How so?” Grindiana cocked her head quizzically. 

Her true intent was obvious from her tone, though. 

“That would mean going to full-blown war with O’ltormea. And though you slightly exceed them in terms of national power, your chances of victory are basically even. The war could go either way. What’s more, even if you sent spies there to gather information, you’re not familiar with O’ltormea’s geography. Fighting on their soil with just your army is something you’d want to avoid.” 

The gaze in Ryoma’s calm eyes had, at some point, sharpened like a blade. 

“And?” 

“That being the case, Your Majesty, you occupied Memphis and kept your army stationed here. And you came here yourself, leaving your capital at Dreisen vacant. And here, you waited until the very last moment to see if anyone shows up who understands your goals and could cooperate with you.” 

At those words, Grindiana raised her voice in amused, satisfied laughter. Her expression then turned severe as she directed her gaze to Ryoma. Her expression made it absolutely clear why she was called the Vixen of the North. 

“Of course I did. I have no intention of joining forces with an imbecile... Very well, if you understand this much, let’s cut straight to the main topic. What conditions do you have for me?” 

It was as if the two of them had just locked blades. That was the only way the atmosphere in the room could be described. And perhaps, they truly did wield their words like blades. Blades in a duel over the fate of a kingdom... 

“Yes, I’m confident my offer will be to your liking,” Ryoma said, taking out a letter from his pocket and sliding it over to Grindiana. 

Grisson heaved a heavy sigh as he removed his clouded glasses and wiped them clean with a handkerchief. 

“For the most part, it went as you had expected, Your Majesty... I suppose...” 

His heart was filled with fear at the realization his mistress’s assumptions were accurate, and even greater dread at the idea that someone capable of matching her shrewdness actually appeared. 

“Oh, Arnold. Don’t you know that when you sigh, the joy in your life slips out as well?” 

After Ryoma and Greed left the room, Grindiana lay sprawled on the sofa in a sloven manner, and regarded the man who was like a brother to her in a teasing manner. It wrinkled her expensive dress, made by the finest artisan, but Grindiana didn’t seem to mind it. She displayed a lack of manners and dignity one would usually attribute to a child, which prompted a second sigh from Grisson. 

If only she would grow out of these childish proclivities... 

His admired mistress was well versed in tactics and strategy and even had exceptional talent on the battlefield. Grindiana’s skills were very much perfect. But if only she did not act so immature at times... 

Still, Grisson didn’t think to actually admonish her. He knew she only showed such a slovenly demeanor when in private, and in the presence of those she trusted. 

I suppose no truly perfect person really exists... 

As her aide, Grindiana’s attitude was a source of anxiety for Grisson, but he couldn’t deny that some part of him did find that part of her to be precious. It was like proof that she, too, was human... 

“Surely you jest, Your Majesty. Working in your service means that any joy I could have ever been entitled to has long since left me,” Grisson said playfully, regarding her with an elegant bow. 

“Mm, perhaps my ears are playing tricks on me, but did you just say something odd?” Grindiana cocked her head. 

“Did I? I’m not sure what you have in mind, Your Majesty, but I swear that I’ve said nothing but the truth.” 

That statement most certainly wasn’t something a servant would tell his mistress. Grindiana simply contorted her lips in a sardonic smile and elected not to press Grisson any further. 

The great Kingdom of Helnesgoula was served by four generals. Of the four, Grisson had served her the longest, ever since she usurped the throne from her father, the previous king. He was the closest of her aides. They would never show it in public, but there was a true bond between the two of them that went beyond just a ruler and her servant. A tight bond that was as strong as that between those related by blood. 

“Well, nevermind... Anyway, the army’s prepared to move at a moment’s notice, yes?” 

“Of course, Your Majesty. A single knight order will be left behind to protect Memphis, but the rest of our army has been ordered to be prepared to move at any time.” 

The preparations for the war were already done. The ten orders of knights led by Arnold Grisson were prepared like a drawn bow, and waited for the beacon of war to be lit. All that remained was deciding where to send them. 

“The question is how to approach the attack, but...” Grisson said, but then trailed off. 

“I think setting foot in Xarooda’s territory is a poor idea. What say you, Arnold?” Grindiana said, looking up into the air as she lay sprawled on the sofa. 

“I’d rather not fight on Xaroodian soil, either. If you order us to win, we will win without fail, but the odds are that it will make our losses all the larger.” 

“I figured as much.” 

Neither of them cared in particular about ravaging Xarooda’s land. It didn’t matter even if they were to be their allies in opposing O’ltormea. Put more simply, the only thing they cared for was their Helnesgoulian subjects, and the people of another country proved to be none of their concern. 

But they did want to avoid fighting on Xaroodian soil. Of course, if one wanted to interpret that as a humanitarian choice, they were free to do so, but they weren’t making such a choice for anything so vague as that. It was out of rational, cold-hearted calculation and nothing more. 

Most of Xarooda’s territory consisted of mountainous terrain, and open areas that could allow for the deployment of a large army were exceedingly scarce. On top of that, there were thick forests that limited visibility and narrow, winding mountain paths. Fighting on such terrain would be a daunting task, even for the most seasoned general. 

At worst, their superior numbers would only serve to slow their march. In cases where both armies were vast, the optimal field of battle would be a large plain with good visibility, where both sides could move unimpeded. 

“Our spies have provided us with some information, but it doesn’t substitute for actual familiarity with the land... Well, I suppose we’ll hear what Mikoshiba has to say during the war council tomorrow. He probably has some kind of plan.” 

“I’d imagine he does... Considering this letter, this man isn’t to be trifled with...” 

Grisson noticed that Grindiana had frowned slightly. 

“The question is whether he is a threat to us or not... What did you think upon meeting him, Your Majesty?” 

“Are you saying he came too well-prepared?” she asked, and upon seeing the amused smile on her lips the next moment, Grisson shook his head in exasperation. 

“Yes, I’ll admit I didn’t expect him to come so prepared...” 

Truth be told, Grisson feared the man who had rested his large frame on that sofa a short while ago. Grisson was a seasoned warrior in his own right, and had survived many battles, but his honest feelings were that he never wanted to face Ryoma in battle. He was confident he could win in battle if they were to lead armies against one another, but he was lacking in comparison to Ryoma when it came to diplomacy or strategy. 

After all, he matched Grisson’s mistress Grindiana in those fields, and had the nerve not to flinch even when faced with the ruler of a country. He was a reliable ally, but if he were to turn against them, he would be a problematic opponent to beat. 

But Grindiana knew this as well as he did, and there were no traces of anxiety in her expression. If anything, she looked as if she’d finally found a worthy opponent to challenge her. 

“I can’t say I’m not paying it any mind, but it’s nothing to be worried about. So long as our four countries remain allied, Ryoma Mikoshiba will never turn against Helnesgoula. I can say that with confidence, since he understands the importance of economics and the profits to be gained from it.” 

She laughed off Grisson’s doubts as she eyed the map and the letter sprawled on the table. Grindiana then took a gumdrop and popped it into her mouth. The Kingdom of Rhoadseria, Myest and, most relevant of all currently, Xarooda; a letter penned by one of the three countries of the western continent’s east wasn’t something one should simply throw haphazardly on the table. 

My word... To think this is how my mistress, the feared Vixen of the North, conducts herself... 

Swallowing the words of admonition that climbed up his throat, Grisson pushed the box full of gumdrops to the side of the table and spread out the letter. 

“His play was well thought-out, though. Tying a treaty of commerce to the alliance... All four countries stand to profit from this.” Grisson sighed in amazement. 

Ryoma’s suggestion could very well be called a work of art. 

“From Xarooda’s perspective, they need only acknowledge us as leaders of the alliance and they will be given the reinforcements they need,” Grindiana said. “For just that much, they get to keep their precious territories. They’d naturally jump at this proposal without a second thought.” 

Grisson regarded her words with a deep nod. 

“Having been weakened by civil war, Rhoadseria is the least interested in entering this war. The fact that our intervention would bring a quicker end to the hostilities is all the reason they need to rejoice... And since they’re planning to recover their national power, this alliance is a godsend for them. Our backing will make their recovery easier.” 

“Yes, and our economy, as well as Myest’s, will flourish thanks to increased trade. A perfect plan no one stands to lose from... On face value, at least.” 

A plan no one stood to lose from. A plan everyone stood to profit from. But Grindiana aptly saw through Ryoma’s true intentions. 

“Because while the four kingdoms all stand to profit from this, the one to get the most out of this deal is Ryoma Mikoshiba, governor of the Wortenia Peninsula... Heh.” 

Grindiana’s eyes glinted bewitchingly as they glared at the Wortenia Peninsula’s position on the map. The greatest challenge when it came to traversing the north of the continent was the unexplored no man’s land known as the Wortenia Peninsula; a dangerous land that stood as a breeding ground for ferocious monsters and a hideout for savage pirates. 

But that land could very well be made into a treasure chest, through the formation of the four-kingdom alliance. 

Truly well-crafted... 

As Grindiana lay sprawled on the sofa, the face of the man who came up with this plan surfaced in her mind. Within the letter she’d received, there were stipulations regarding not just national defense, but also trade and commerce. The suggestion to create a uniform tariff rate across the four kingdoms would lead to an increase in import and export, and his method for a simplified border crossing procedure would allow for people and goods to move more swiftly. That was bound to bring an even greater profit to Helnesgoula and Myest, who traded with other continents frequently. 

Did this, however, mean that Rhoadseria and Xarooda, who lacked such large-scale trade, would not receive any favor from this reform? Perhaps not directly, but a stimulated market led to more tax revenue. The four kingdoms would all place more emphasis on commerce and trade. 

With this, Helnesgoula would no longer need to conquer and destroy the three kingdoms of the east. Rather than going to war and extorting them, they now had a safer and more efficient way of getting money. 

And when that happens... Who will truly profit the most, I wonder...? 

In the not too distant future, trade traffic would increase to a never before seen scale. And once that occurred, the demand would grow to an extent where land travel would not be enough to keep up with the market’s demands. Merchants would turn to sea routes. Yes, the sea route to the north of the western continent... 

“Carrying supplies in large numbers is much faster on sea compared to a land route. Now that the Wortenia Peninsula has been purged of the pirates, the north sea route would inevitably be reconsidered. Before long, the city on the peninsula will flourish as a relay point for merchants.” 

The port on Wortenia would not only function as a point for ships to restock, but also as a market for merchants to sell their wares into Rhoadseria. And eventually, it could establish trade with other continents as well. So long as they did not enforce any kind of foolish policy, their prosperity was guaranteed. 

“That man’s character is quite clear. He’s cautious, but bold. And he’s cautious enough to never show the full extent of his abilities to others, so as to not draw needless attention. Heheh... He’s a frightening one. He’d secured the greatest profit of all to himself, but managed to spin it in a way that makes it so no one is displeased about it... Heh. Though I suppose, given the military might he does have, he has to keep himself from standing out.” 

The greater the sum of money one receives, the more driven they are to capitalize on it. One could claim that such a trait is rooted in human instinct. But doing so buys the jealousy of others. Of course, if one can shrug off that envy and hold onto that wealth, it might not be a problem, but Ryoma lacked the power to do so. And he knew that fact very well. 

“Your plots have veered off course somewhat, Your Majesty. Normally you’d have isolated and taken them in... But I didn’t expect them to come with a proposal,” Grisson said and then sighed. 

Their original plan was to make Xarooda their vassal, and wait for a chance to do the same to Rhoadseria and Myest. In that regard, one could say their plans had been moved ahead of schedule, with one exception. 

“I suppose. I didn’t imagine he’d be as capable as he is. I might have underestimated him a little.” 

Grindiana sat up and carried the teacup resting on the table to her lips. She had long since had an interest in the geographical value of the Wortenia Peninsula. After all, so long as something could be done about that land, establishing a sea route between Helnesgoula and Myest would be possible. 

Grindiana knew the importance of trade. In her eyes, the fact that Rhoadseria left the vast lands of Wortenia unmanaged for so many years made her doubt the sanity of that country and its government. If that land were hers, she could only imagine the riches she would reap from it. 

But it all ended as just a dream. Grindiana knew that mobilizing an army and calling for hostilities with Rhoadseria in the name of occupying that no man’s land wasn’t worth the effort in any way. 

Now, however, a chance to make that dream come true had fallen into her lap. Lupis Rhoadserians had granted that land to a man, whether out of some playful whim or out of true gratitude. 

“So be it. We spent quite a bit on gathering information, but I’m not particularly displeased with the outcome.” 

Ever since Ryoma was given Wortenia, Grindiana had kept a watchful eye on the peninsula and his actions. That was how she learned Ryoma was an otherworlder. 

“But are you really sure...? Depending on how the negotiations go, I do believe it’s possible for you to gain dominion over the Wortenia Peninsula,” Grisson said. 

Grindiana smirked at those words. 

“I don’t intend to persist in directly ruling over Wortenia. At least not so long as that man continues to rule over it properly and bring me profit, that is...” 

Indeed, so long as Ryoma managed the peninsula properly, she stood to make a profit. The smile on her lips was truly filled with the mystical dignity one would expect of the Vixen of the North. 

For Grindiana, nothing mattered more than the fact that the alliance of the four kingdoms would increase the range of trade. Because in so doing, Helnesgoula would become more plentiful than it presently was. 

Expanding her territory was important, of course, but she knew that ruling over a land that’s too vast would only be a burden. A land of excessive size would only become a hotbed for rebellion, after all... 

While Grisson and Grindiana were planning their next course of action, Ryoma returned to his room at the inn in the castle town. 

“Phew, she was every bit as scary as the rumors say...” Ryoma sighed as he took a swig from the glass resting on the table in front of him. “No wonder they call her the Vixen of the North. Lupis doesn’t compare to her in the slightest. She’s a monster that woman.” 

The shadow clinging to his expression made it clear just how much awe he felt at Grindiana Helnecharles. Laura had cooled the beer in his glass with thaumaturgy, and the cold drink served to gently chill the heat burning in his chest. 

“But the talks themselves went smoothly, did they not?” Laura asked with a gentle smile, tipping the bottle into the glass after Ryoma slammed it against the table. 

Ryoma didn’t know when exactly they found the time to do so, but apparently the Malfist sisters had gone out to town to buy new clothes. They’d already changed out of the sooty, filthy clothes they wore on the way to Memphis and were dressed like the local girls. They were ordinary clothes made of hemp, but they were easy to move in and still had something of a florid design. 

Ryoma also noticed the aroma of roses wafting up from Laura. They’d likely bought some perfume as they were looking for clothes. They probably saw their personal grooming as a slave’s duty of sorts toward their master, or something to that effect. 

“Yes, Captain Greed was quite elated and said it went well,” Sara exclaimed with innocent joy. 

“I... guess,” Ryoma said, cracking a strained smile before taking another swig. True, from the twins’ perspective, the negotiations were a great success. An alliance was formed with Helnesgoula as its leader, after all. 

“Or does something bother you? Do you think the agreement might end up being annulled?” Laura asked, noticing the shadow that had settled over her master’s face. 

True, the agreement Ryoma made with Grindiana was only a verbal one for now. But even still, it was a verbal agreement between one leader of a country and another. Breaking this agreement would come with its share of consequences. Even with regards to just stopping O’ltormea’s invasion, no country would be able to easily turn their back on such a promise. 

Rhoadseria and Xarooda didn’t have the military might to survive this situation, and so they never had the option of refusing the agreement to begin with. Myest had sufficient forces to go to war, but even if they were to refuse the alliance, it wouldn’t change much. In that case, the three other countries would simply form an alliance without them. 

True, without Myest’s influence as a trade partner, the alliance’s profits would be smaller, but it wouldn’t influence things much in the long run. If Myest ended up refusing, some adjustments would have to be made in the agreement, but it was otherwise safe to say the treaty could not be revoked at this point. 

“Well, I just think I might have overdone it a little...” Ryoma shook his head slowly at Laura’s question. 

What had bound Ryoma’s heart so tightly was the look in Grindiana’s eyes just as he had bid her farewell. It was the gaze of a predator eyeing its prey. Ryoma didn’t think he’d made any wrong choices there, but perhaps there were a few things he could have done differently. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have left that much of a strong impression...” 

Perhaps, instead of coming personally, he should have instead sent a Xaroodian noble and manipulated their actions from the shadows. Still, he had a distinct reason for choosing not to do so. 

There’s a chance it would have made her suspicious, so I figured I’d do it myself... 

Had Ryoma tried to stay in the background, Grindiana would likely have viewed Xarooda’s sudden change in policy with suspicion. As uncomfortable as it might have been to admit it, had a messenger simply come bearing a letter from Julianus I, there was a good chance it would have been discarded without being read. Refusing a letter was a very reprehensible thing to do from a diplomatic perspective, so hypothetically, it probably would have been accepted, but things still wouldn’t go as smoothly. 

“But if we take too long, the fortress in the Ushas Basin might not hold on. So isn’t the fact that you finished this as quickly as you did proof that what you did was ideal?” Laura asked. 

Ryoma had to nod. The final showdown with O’ltormea was right around the corner, and there was little time to waste. 

“I suppose...” 

The fact that Ryoma had to feel so cautious around Grindiana was one negative outcome he didn’t anticipate, but he could do nothing but try to compensate for this hole in his plans. 

For now, I should shelve my countermeasures against Helnesgoula and focus on the war ahead of me. 

The alliance with Helnesgoula was coming into shape, but the question remained: how would this war end? The composition of that image was already growing clearer. Two problems remained, however. Firstly, he’d need to discuss what came next with Grindiana and receive her approval. Secondly, they needed to make sure Lione’s group could retreat from the Ushas Basin safely. 

“We need to send out a bird immediately and inform them of our situation,” Sara said. “They haven’t sent any messages, so it’s safe to assume everything’s going as planned for now.” 

Ryoma glared into the air at those words. Phones and emails didn’t exist in this world. This meant that whenever information was being transmitted, there was always some delay, directly proportionate to the distance the information needed to travel. 

Thankfully, the technological standards of this world were more or less uniform. The speed with which information traveled was roughly the same across the different countries. Of course, Ryoma was used to the instantaneous exchange of information that modern technology allowed, and this time lag felt like a huge bother to him. But the honest truth was that he was still looking for a better method. And while he did find a possible solution... 

How that turns out will depend on how this war ends. 

There was a great deal Ryoma still wanted and had to do, but right now he could only focus on one thing. As displeased as Ryoma, a normal high school student, may have been with this situation, it was still the result of his own choices. And that, too, could be called fate. 

“Yeah, that’s right...” 

His tactic of ambushing the O’ltormean supply convoy to slow their invasion speed was a good one, but he knew he couldn’t hope to completely shut down their supply line. He’d only instructed Lione to inflict some damage on them and then retreat to the fortress in the Ushas Basin. There, the allied forces of the Xaroodian, Rhoadserian and Myestian militaries were to hold the line against the O’ltormean invasion. 

If all went according to plan, Lione’s party should have been retreating from the mountainous region at this moment. 

But time, time, time... The talks with Helnesgoula were ironed out sooner than I expected, but we’re still hanging by a thread... dammit, we have to make it... 

Their odds were already bad, as they had to turn the tables on the enemy while in a greatly inferior position. They had no choice but to make a gamble at some point. With the meeting with Grindiana having gone well, Ryoma was now facing his next challenge. 

“But complaining about it now won’t get us anywhere. All we can do is believe that Lione and Joshua can hold on until we can topple the fortress on the Notis Plains.” 

Ryoma’s mind turned to the two of them, on that battlefield far to the south.