Wortenia Senki (LN) - Volume 29 - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Those in the Shadows

Gloomy clouds covered the skies, almost as if they were an omen of what was to come.

The weather was so nice yesterday... I’m about to go meet Her Majesty Radine, but the conditions aren’t the best, thought Ryoma.

A corner of the royal castle towered over the capital city of Pireas. Ryoma sighed deeply as he idled in the office assigned to the Mikoshiba Grand Duchy’s representative, waiting until his meeting with Radine. What must his state of mind have been? It would be an exaggeration to say that he felt like he was sitting on a bed of nails, but he was clearly uncomfortable. That, however, was unavoidable. After all, the upcoming meeting was meant to report the results of the expedition to aid the Kingdom of Myest and discuss future countermeasures. Of course, the letters Ryoma had sent ahead already conveyed a certain amount of information.

If that were not the case, Radine Rhoadserians would never have gone out of her way to make an official declaration to the kingdom’s nobility, stating that “Ryoma Mikoshiba will continue to be entrusted with full authority.”

Even so, that did not mean the report was complete. Thinking that would be utterly naive. A report from Ryoma, the very person who had drafted the rescue plan and personally led the expedition, would be required.

Besides, I haven’t communicated everything yet.

The most urgent matters had been included in the letters he had sent to Radine, but that did not mean he had communicated everything to her. In particular, his report had been lacking regarding events following his return from the expedition to the Kingdom of Myest. For instance, his explanation about establishing cooperative relations with the Manibhadra tribe had been rather brief.

Although I’ve reached a general agreement with Rahizya and Harisha, formalizing the treaty with the Manibhadra tribe will likely require Queen Radine’s approval.

Naturally, the chances of completely resetting negotiations were slim at this point, but that did not mean there would be no changes, especially regarding the provision of supplies.

Determining the extent of aid is a difficult matter. I doubt Queen Radine will oppose my judgment at this stage... But that doesn’t mean it would be wise for me to make decisions entirely on my own. At the very least, I should avoid being seen that way. Given my current position as a vassal of the Kingdom of Rhoadseria...

For decision-making, it would have been undeniably faster for Ryoma Mikoshiba to make the call independently. In other words, this was what they called unilateral action. One could even describe it as a form of dictatorship.

The Kingdom of Rhoadseria had formally integrated the Mikoshiba Grand Duchy. While the wording might be somewhat misleading, in practical terms, Ryoma Mikoshiba had undeniably determined the kingdom’s future. From that perspective, it was not entirely wrong for Ryoma to have made decisions during his meeting with Harisha without consulting Radine. Yet, such unilateral action would have inevitably invited criticism from those around him.

In fact, Charlotte and the others mentioned this in their reports as well.

Charlotte Halcyon, along with other noble ladies, was responsible for intelligence operations within the aristocratic society of the Kingdom of Rhoadseria. Their primary objective was to prevent the incompetent Rhoadserian nobles, consumed by their hatred for Ryoma Mikoshiba, from recklessly erupting into violence.

Honestly, I’d rather just wipe out those troublesome fools entirely.

By nature, Ryoma Mikoshiba was a cold and decisive individual. Moreover, he was the type to stubbornly cling to his sense of justice. If anything, he truly believed that incompetent nobles should simply be eradicated. He would not have hesitated to draw his sword if given the opportunity. As far as he was concerned, dealing with such nobles swiftly and efficiently would be the best course of action. Many were not merely incompetent; in fact, they were far worse than simple bunglers. These nobles were parasites, inflicting oppressive rule upon their subjects while indulging themselves. Such creatures infested the Kingdom of Rhoadseria in great numbers.

For better or worse, this was likely because the Kingdom of Rhoadseria had, unusually for this world, enjoyed peace without being caught up in any major wars.

Of course, that did not mean war had never occurred at all. Most of those conflicts had happened beyond the kingdom’s borders or along the frontier. Simply put, the powerful noble factions that controlled key cities such as the royal capital of Pireas and the southern stronghold of Heraklion had largely been spared from the ravages of war. Additionally, the vast and fertile lands nourished by the River Thebes had long protected the people of Rhoadseria from famine. Even without much effort, the land yielded a stable harvest. For those engaged in agriculture, it was nothing short of a paradise and a gift from the gods.

And yet, it is an ironic twist of fate that this very abundance led the nobility to become decadent and squander their political power.

If gods truly existed, surely they would cast divine punishment upon such foolish aristocrats. Or perhaps they would merely weep at the depth of human greed and folly.

Plenty of these nobles still sought an opportunity to eliminate Ryoma. After all, he was a mercenary of dubious origins who had risen through the ranks to become an archduke—the highest-ranking noble in the Kingdom of Rhoadseria. It was the very definition of rising to the pinnacle of power.

Furthermore, the Wortenia Peninsula—a land once abandoned by all and known as a demon-infested land—had undergone an economic transformation, developing into one of the foremost trading hubs on the western continent. Incompetent nobles, who were so consumed by their bloated sense of entitlement that they genuinely believed nothing in this world could defy their will, saw it as nothing more than an eyesore.

From their perspective, my very existence must be infuriating beyond reason.

On the surface, the nobles pretended to submit out of fear of Ryoma Mikoshiba’s military strength. Deep down, they were merely biding their time for the perfect opportunity to drag him down. Although Ryoma knew this, he had thus far refrained from making any overt moves against these nobles. At most, he had ordered Charlotte, the other noblewomen, and the Igasaki clan to keep a close watch on their activities.

Considering Ryoma’s usual nature, such an approach could be described as remarkably passive and restrained.

Until I build up enough national strength to consolidate the Kingdom of Rhoadseria, eliminating the nobles is out of the question.

Indeed, the Mikoshiba Grand Duchy was one of the most influential noble families in existence. Even beyond the western continent, only a handful of noble houses could rival it. Within the aristocracy of the Kingdom of Rhoadseria, it was undeniably the largest and most powerful entity. Though it was vast as a noble house, from the perspective of a nation, it still remained within the realm of the weak.

In terms of economic power alone, it may already rival the Kingdom of Rhoadseria...

But economic strength alone could not sustain a nation. A true nation required more than wealth; it needed military power, diplomatic influence, agricultural production, and a sufficient population to support its foundation. At present, the Mikoshiba Grand Duchy severely lacked everything aside from economic and military strength. Concerning population, it was among the worst in the known world.

As things stand, the Wortenia Peninsula doesn’t even have a proper civilian population to begin with.

Historically, the region known as the Wortenia Peninsula had been feared as a demonic land, overrun by powerful monsters. For years, the Kingdom of Rhoadseria had all but abandoned it, using it as a penal colony for criminals. The only people who voluntarily ventured into the peninsula were adventurers seeking rare medicinal herbs and other valuable materials. However, pirates had taken up residence there in recent years, further severing Wortenia from the Kingdom of Rhoadseria’s governance.

When Ryoma Mikoshiba was granted the Wortenia Peninsula as his domain, its population was literally zero. Forget tax revenue—there wasn’t even stable food production.

For now, the only people who could be called subjects of the Mikoshiba Grand Duchy were the inhabitants of the recently recognized fortress city of Epirus and the people from the northern regions of the Kingdom of Rhoadseria who had lived in the surrounding areas. Due to the war against Count Salzberg—the former lord of Epirus and leader of the northern nobles—and the schemes Ryoma employed to fend off Queen Lupis’s northern subjugation campaign, the northern region was nearly in ruins. Ever since the northern territories were officially recognized as his domain, Ryoma had invested significant funds into internal development. But Epirus, which had been the heart of the northern region, had been nearly burned to the ground by the incendiary attack Ryoma had unleashed against the northern subjugation army. As a result, reconstruction efforts had been painfully slow. If anyone else could be considered subjects of the Mikoshiba Grand Duchy, it might be Nelcius and his people. Regardless of how one looked at it, the population was overwhelmingly insufficient for the sheer size of the territory.

In this situation, even if Ryoma Mikoshiba could seize control of the Kingdom of Rhoadseria and establish the so-called “Kingdom of Mikoshiba,” it was evident he would struggle to manage it.

That’s precisely why I accepted Charlotte and the others as vassals...

Figures such as Helena Steiner, Prime Minister Diggle McMaster, and even Queen Radine Rhoadserians—the ruler of the Kingdom of Rhoadseria—openly supported Ryoma Mikoshiba. Because of this, there had been no overt criticism directed at him so far. Though considerable dissatisfaction was brewing in the shadows, things appeared calm on the surface. Nonetheless, it was uncertain how long this uneasy peace would last.

Even those nobles have their limits when it comes to patience, especially since I went a little overboard this time.

In other words, it was only a matter of time before their “last straw” was reached. Given the generally poor self-restraint of these nobles, their tolerance threshold was unlikely to be very high. That was precisely why noblewomen like Charlotte Halcyon, who provided insight into the growing discontent among the aristocracy, were so necessary.

At least in this instance, the nobles’ criticisms and grievances toward Ryoma were entirely justified. Regardless of his intentions, his actions had undeniably been excessive in terms of unilateral decision-making.

Hearing words like “arbitrary rule” or “dictator” doesn’t exactly inspire a positive image.

Rather than saying nobles lacked a positive image, it would have been more accurate to say they carried a distinctly negative one. When people heard the term “arbitrary rule,” most associated it with selfishness, self-centeredness, obstinacy, or cruelty. Or perhaps, one could call it a lack of cooperativeness. With terms like “dictator” or “dictatorship,” the image became even worse. Such words inevitably conjured up visions of tyrants ruling as they pleased, oppressing the people and causing suffering. The phrases “unilateral decision-making” and “dictator” were always accompanied by these negative connotations.

After all, in dramas, the trope of subordinates being forced to endure the whims of an overbearing CEO is quite common, and there’s no shortage of movies depicting heroes fighting against oppressive dictators.

Even Ryoma enjoyed that genre of film and drama, so it was impossible for him not to feel some degree of discomfort at behaving like one of those antagonists. Beyond that, he had bitter memories associated with the idea of unilateral decision-making. After all, he had personally suffered the consequences of Lupis Rhoadserians’s autocratic rule.

A prime example of this would be when Lupis unilaterally accepted the allegiance of the noble faction during the civil war or when she arbitrarily granted me a noble title and exiled me to the Wortenia Peninsula.

Thus, Ryoma harbored a negative perception of unilateral decision-making and dictatorship. Despite understanding this, he had made various promises during his meeting with Harisha, which was a glaring contradiction.

However, unilateral action is undeniably the best approach when considering the speed of decision-making, Ryoma thought, despite knowing it might not have been the most desirable method. But there were situations where only such an approach could resolve an issue. This was particularly true in times of crisis, such as natural disasters or war, when immediate action was required. After all, if a fire breaks out, no one would be foolish enough to hold a discussion before starting to extinguish the flames.

In such urgent scenarios, a leader had to make a decision, and their subordinates had to follow it—this was the essence of top-down command. For better or worse, in terms of efficiency alone, unilateral decision-making was the fastest method. But it was far from ideal when viewed from the perspective of correctness. Consulting with others and sharing information were crucial steps in ensuring that a decision was objectively sound.

There are countless instances where one believes they have the right answer, only to realize their mistake after considering another person’s perspective. Even so, there were many situations in life where speed was more critical than correctness. Ryoma could not say for sure which approach was truly right. Well, it ultimately depends on the situation.

Moreover, the benefits of consulting with others and sharing information extended beyond merely verifying the correctness of one’s own decisions.

One must also consider how smoothly things proceed when relevant parties are informed in advance.

This principle applied to business meetings and even simple matters, such as whether one would be home for dinner. A single word of advance notice could prevent unnecessary friction. Of course, Ryoma had never worked in a corporate setting. Given that he was summoned to this world as a high school student, that much was expected. Nevertheless, he was not entirely ignorant of organizational management and recognized its essential principles.

Reporting, informing, consulting... What could also be termed “keeping others in the know.”

Naturally, this was theoretical knowledge gained through books, movies, and dramas. Most people placed greater trust in firsthand experience rather than theoretical knowledge. Indeed, there were countless instances where something learned in theory did not translate effectively into real-world application.

And when it comes to governing a nation, if this world is a primitive land bound by rigid social hierarchies, modern knowledge won’t necessarily apply.

Theoretical knowledge was not entirely useless, though. Even if it could not be applied directly, a simple shift in perspective made it adaptable in many cases. In other words, it all depended on how one used it, and the concept of putting the right person in the right place applied here. In fact, the success of Ryoma Mikoshiba in establishing and maintaining the Mikoshiba Grand Duchy until today proved this. The theoretical knowledge accumulated within Ryoma gradually became part of his practical experience as he dealt with various real-world problems. From this viewpoint, knowledge never betrayed a person. Ryoma’s knowledge clearly showed that people generally did not view independent decision-making as favorable. However, it was usually the best method in emergency situations. The problem was that there were many harmful side effects.

The particularly scary part is how easily it can provoke resentment from others.

People were more likely to feel neglected when not given information in advance. At the very least, communicating a decision without prior discussion would likely leave no one satisfied. Even when decisions were communicated, whether people opposed or resisted them was another matter. In fact, most people would not openly express dissatisfaction. The majority might simply reply, “Ah, I see. Understood,” and move on. However, even if they did not express their discontent outwardly, there would always be a lingering sense of dissatisfaction somewhere in their hearts. That dissatisfaction, though accumulating slowly, would inevitably build up over time like dust accumulating in a neglected room. Eventually, that buildup would inevitably bring about retaliation.

It could be said that I am overthinking things, and that would be true. However, people cannot truly understand others or see into their hearts, thought Ryoma, recognizing that constant consideration was necessary. Perfect handling was impossible, but there was no doubt that obvious dangers should be avoided. Well, that said, overdoing the consideration is also a problem.

In reality, considering the dissatisfaction of the Kingdom of Rhoadseria’s nobles and making prior arrangements had not been practical. The number of nobles involved had been too large, and they had had no intention of cooperating with Ryoma. Even if he had explained the situation beforehand and sincerely asked for their cooperation, they would not have granted it. Of course, on the surface, they would have expressed their willingness to collaborate with him.

All those nobles would probably have greeted me with broad smiles and shaken my hand. There are enemies within the Kingdom of Rhoadseria as well... That has been difficult.

Behind those smiles, they would have been thinking about using the information to sabotage Ryoma.

The phrase “the nail that sticks out gets hammered down” accurately described the situation. In addition, the issue with the expedition to the Kingdom of Myest was that it had nearly been a defeat. Thus, Ryoma’s heavy mood was understandable.

However, this has been a difficult situation to read... Who has been an ally, and who has been an enemy?

The problem had been that the situation on the Kingdom of Myest’s side had changed significantly before and after the expedition. In particular, the unexpected attack on King Philip by a mysterious group and his resulting death, which led to his half brother Owen Spiegel ascending to the throne, had been something that Ryoma Mikoshiba had not anticipated at all.

Alexis Duran, the strongest of the three generals that the Kingdom of Myest prided itself on, backed the new king. Ever since the ascension of King Owen, the allied forces of the Kingdom of Brittantia and the Kingdom of Tarja, who had been attacking the fortress city of Jermuk, had ceased their advance. According to the information that Ryoma Mikoshiba had obtained, reports suggested that the allied forces and the Kingdom of Myest were attempting to negotiate peace. However, King Owen had not clarified his stance toward the Kingdom of Rhoadseria. He had remained silent regarding Ryoma Mikoshiba’s sudden retreat from Myest. The rumor that Ryoma was the mastermind behind the assassination of King Philip, which had been circulating initially, had somehow faded over time. Of course, Ryoma had never plotted King Philip’s assassination. But once a rumor spread, it was difficult to make it disappear.

Under normal circumstances, one would expect a messenger to be sent to declare a break in relations. But the Kingdom of Myest had not made any clear indication of hostility, which is also suspicious. At present, the Kingdom of Myest was still officially part of the four-kingdom alliance. Ryoma Mikoshiba would need to confirm this information with Queen Radine. Even if that proves true, it doesn’t mean I can consider the Kingdom of Myest as an ally.

The more Ryoma thought about it, the more his head began to ache.

If there was any consolation, it was that I withdrew my troops before any open hostilities with Myest’s army led by Alexis Duran. So, the damage to my side was minimal.

Despite the minimal troop loss, Ryoma was forced to reveal some of the trump cards he had been keeping hidden for future use on the actual battlefield. This was a significant loss in terms of technological secrecy.

If we used the communication capabilities of Wezalié’s Whisper or the enhanced view of the Eyes of Meneos, it would be unlikely that the enemy would recognize either tool’s functions even if they witnessed its use. That applied even if the enemy had witnessed their use.

However, something like a balloon was much more conspicuous.

Since the reconnaissance had been done from quite a high altitude, it wasn’t likely that its presence would be detected immediately. Even if it had been noticed, the chances of it being easily replicated were low.

After all, this was a world without scientific technology. Even if someone attempted to replicate it, doing so would likely take plenty of time without the foundational technology or knowledge. Ryoma believed the chances of such an attempt failing halfway through were high. Conversely, anything that humans could imagine might eventually be created. It wouldn’t be an easy path, but the possibility was far from zero.

Some studies suggest that the two muskets bought from the Southern Barbarians who washed up on Tanegashima eventually led to domestic production. By the end of the Warring States period, Japan was said to have boasted the largest number of muskets in the world.

Of course, how accurate that research was remained unknown. There was no solid evidence to either confirm or deny it. History, after all, was about inferring the past based on the available materials from that time. Despite starting with two muskets, they had grown in number and became a vital weapon on the battlefield by the end of the Warring States period. If there were actual objects to reference, imitation would be easier. Given the lack of models, it would be premature to assume that the people of Earth would successfully develop items like balloons or binoculars just from having glimpsed them.

The Warring States period in Japan and the world of Earth are different in many respects... Even if imitation were possible, it wasn’t guaranteed that they would be able to produce them in large numbers.

As long as there was even a chance, caution was necessary. Naturally, the level of civilization on Earth was far from high. While there were some exceptions, knowledge and cultural levels were comparable to or even below that of medieval Europe. The strict class system widened the gap between the commoners and the nobles. In such a situation, it was realistic to say that the inheritance and development of technology would be difficult.

Basic studies, literacy rates, and cultural sophistication show that Japan was superior to this world during the Warring States period. Ryoma did not mean to unfairly disparage the world of the Earth or unduly elevate his homeland of Japan. This evaluation was likely based on pure, objective facts. And that was only natural. After all, Japan’s neighbor was China, one of the four great ancient civilizations and a superpower in its own right.

The modern-day People’s Republic of China, commonly known as China, differed from the dynasties that had once existed on the continent.

More accurately, China was something else entirely. This was noticeable from the end of the mythological era known as the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors, starting with the Xia dynasty, which was considered the oldest dynasty in Chinese history. In the present, the provinces on the Chinese mainland boasted the world’s highest standards of culture and population, making them superpowers. If asked to list the technologies invented by the Chinese, Ryoma could immediately name several.

Paper and gunpowder were Chinese inventions, and I believe the compass was too.

In the historical text Hou Han Shu, or Book of the Later Han, a record stated that a person named Cai Lun invented paper and presented it to the emperor, who called it Cai Hou paper. However, the expression “invented” could be somewhat misleading.

Cai Lun was a high-ranking eunuch. Moreover, he was apparently a Zhongchangshi who served beside the emperor. It was unlikely that such a person would actually make paper.

A eunuch was a man who had undergone castration to prevent illicit affairs, and they mainly served in the emperor’s harem, where women were kept, as these areas were off-limits to men. When Japanese people unfamiliar with Chinese history heard the word eunuch, they might tilt their heads in confusion. The eunuch system was present in countries within the Chinese cultural sphere, such as Korea and Vietnam, as well as Middle Eastern countries like Turkey. However, the system of eunuchs did not exist in Japan. Because Japan was part of the same East Asian cultural sphere, it wasn’t definitive that the system had never been used in Japan, but at least it wasn’t widely recognized by the general public.

When Japanese people heard the word “eunuch,” most would probably think of the Ten Eunuchs from the Romance of the Three Kingdoms. Those men were corrupt, manipulated power, and engaged in conspiracies to ruin others. If compared to figures in period dramas, eunuchs might be seen as a type of villainous magistrate. Of course, this image is merely a product of the imagination of later generations who did not know the true nature of eunuchs. While Chinese historical texts often portrayed eunuchs as villains, this was not the whole picture.

For example, a man named Zheng He became a hero known for his voyages to places as far as Indonesia, India, and Africa despite being a eunuch. In Zheng He’s case, he didn’t become a eunuch of his own will—he was forced into it. So, it might be difficult to compare him to those who voluntarily chose to become eunuchs for personal advancement.

Even in the case of Zhang Ao, a general from the Western Han dynasty, he was a eunuch who gained such renown as a military leader that he was called “the enemy of all men.” In every society, some people were regarded as heroes and others were corrupted by power. Additionally, the status of eunuchs varied greatly depending on the era. The position of eunuch was originally that of a civil servant. By necessity, eunuchs were part of a hierarchical society. Some eunuchs at the top wielded power comparable to ministers, and some at the bottom were little more than glorified servants.

Cai Lun had risen to the rank of a high-ranking eunuch. Naturally, it was hard to believe that a government official of his high status could have personally processed plant fibers and made paper.

It might be more accurate to think of Cai Lun as the first person who ordered craftsmen to create paper rather than someone who personally made it. While Cai Lun is credited as the first person in historical texts for making paper, studies suggest it already existed during the Western Han period.

While Cai Lun was regarded as the one who invented paper, it seemed inevitable that someone else living in China had actually created paper. As for the history of gunpowder, it honestly wasn’t entirely clear.

However, a reference to black powder in a book written during the Tang dynasty called Zhen Yuan Miao Dao Yao Lu suggested that the invention of gunpowder had likely occurred before that time.

Even if not all historical mysteries have been solved, the cultural and scientific advancements of the successive dynasties on the Chinese mainland became the gold standard in their respective fields across the globe.

Above all, what mattered was that Japan had continuously imitated the technologies and systems of China, a country with such advancements. In modern terms, this might not have been something to praise. People sometimes derided imitation as “copying” in fields like technology and art. However, one could argue that nearly all technologies that existed in the world were imitations of someone else’s work. In fact, countries considered technologically backward often eventually developed their own unique technology after persistently imitating the superior products of advanced countries. This was likely the same on Earth. But that, in itself, was the situation that Ryoma feared the most.

Having modern knowledge and technology, and even partially putting it into practical use, was overwhelmingly advantageous. If such technology were to leak and be put into use by some other country, it could lead to irreversible consequences.

For the residents of the Earth, humans summoned from Rearth were nothing more than slaves. Not all the people of Earth thought that way, but many countries still continued the summoning ritual for the purpose of turning people into war slaves. In such a world, there was hardly anyone who would want to hand over modern technology. It wasn’t simply a matter of whether one liked or disliked Earth.

It was quite literally a matter of life and death.

If things went wrong, the desire for modern technology would lead to a rampant hunt for people from Rearth, and more people would be summoned to Earth. This terrifying future was easy to imagine. Regardless, this nightmare wouldn’t happen immediately.

The bigger problem is the consumption of military supplies.

Wars required a vast amount of various resources. From food to replacement weapons, the types and amounts required were enormous. Ryoma had also made considerable preparations, but he was starting to feel they were insufficient after this Myest expedition.

For food and weapons, it was a matter of just purchasing them. Purchasing in bulk would make it slightly cheaper, but it was still possible to secure them. However, there were some items in the world that couldn’t be bought even with money.

The depletion of our stock of Fire Drake’s Breath was quite painful.

A deep sigh escaped from Ryoma Mikoshiba’s lips. The Fire Drake’s Breath, created by the dark elf race’s thaumaturgists, could be described simply as a mixture of a combustion accelerator and explosives. Its power was comparable to, or even surpassed, a dragon’s fiery breath. As a weapon, one could consider it almost perfect. But there were still issues, such as the limited production volume.

Fire Drake’s Breath was a kind of elixir created with materials from monsters and plants native to the Wortenia Peninsula. Naturally, a dark elf thaumaturgist had to handle the entire process by hand.

I ended up using nearly all of the Fire Drake’s Breath to annihilate the war elephant unit led by Harisha.

The fact that such an investment of time and effort led to a successful outcome was good. Considering the threat posed by the war elephant unit under Harisha’s command, depleting the Fire Drake’s Breath was a worthwhile sacrifice. Had Ryoma not used Fire Drake’s Breath to destroy the war elephant unit in one fell swoop, the damage to his forces would likely have been much greater. But when considering future strategies, it became clear there were opportunity costs.

At that moment, there was a knock at the door.

“Archduke Mikoshiba, it is time. I have come to escort you.”

Ryoma snapped out of his swirling thoughts and responded to the visitor outside the door, “Thank you for your hard work.”

His voice was no different from usual. The doubts and regrets that had been present just moments before were nowhere to be found. Standing there was the young warlord, feared by enemies as the Devil of Heraklion. With that, Ryoma calmly left the room with no time to dwell on his thoughts. On his shoulders rested the heavy burden of the trust his vassals placed on him and the fate of the three nations in the eastern region of the western continent.

The guards guided Ryoma Mikoshiba into Queen Radine’s office. As soon as he entered, he dropped to one knee and performed the bow of a vassal. Such an attitude was entirely natural for a subject of the Kingdom of Rhoadseria. However, Queen Radine immediately stood up from her chair and urged Ryoma to sit on the sofa.

“Archduke Mikoshiba... This is an informal setting. There is no need for such rigid formalities. Please, have a seat.”

Ryoma slowly rose to his feet and once again bowed deeply to Radine. “I humbly accept Your Majesty’s kindness.”

He then sank his large frame into the sofa placed opposite Queen Radine. One could argue this somewhat lacked decorum.

If the Kingdom of Rhoadseria’s nobles witnessed such a scene, they would undoubtedly frown and sneer, saying, That upstart doesn’t even know his place. As long as Radine had given her permission, she had no issue with him standing up or taking a seat. However, there was an unspoken understanding in such matters. Regardless of the queen’s words, most nobles would make a show of declining the offer once. Yet, Ryoma ignored such formalities. Perhaps he had judged that if he refused out of politeness, it would only make Radine feel more uncomfortable.

Radine knew Ryoma was as powerful and influential as Helena Steiner, an essential ally and supporter. If someone of such stature insisted too much on formality, it would only make Radine feel uneasy. Ryoma’s choice was calculated. Sometimes, rather than insisting on superficial decorum, it was better to simply comply.

Of course, that depends on the person I’m dealing with...

In some cases, accepting such an offer without hesitation could be seen as disrespectful. For example, Ryoma would never have taken Lupis’s words at face value. There was no telling what kind of petty accusations she might have thrown at him. If he were dealing with Lupis, though, he would have avoided setting foot in the royal office at all.

The royal office is a restricted space where one can discuss matters that can’t be spoken of openly. But depending on how the other party acts, it could also become a fatal trap.

The absence of people around meant there were no witnesses. If Lupis ever intended to frame Ryoma, his means of resistance would have been severely limited. In the most extreme case, she could have claimed that Ryoma Mikoshiba had attempted to assault her and, under that pretext, executed him on the spot. Those around her might have doubted her actions, but if the supposed victim pleaded with tears in her eyes, further scrutiny would have become exceedingly difficult.

The situation somewhat resembled a false accusation of molestation in modern society. Even in the absence of objective evidence from a third party, people tended to believe what they wanted to believe. Should the evidence even exist, the outcome would likely remain unchanged. Since the interpretation of evidence was ultimately left to human judgment, nothing could ever be considered absolute. If one wished to avoid becoming a victim, they had to be cautious of their own actions and words. Keeping a distance from untrustworthy individuals could be considered one form of self-defense.

If one starts doubting everything indiscriminately, there would be no end to it, so caution is necessary. And if one directs unnecessary suspicion toward others, it may end up turning allies into enemies.

The seeds of suspicion that took root in the human heart never truly vanished. If one wished, they could even begin to doubt not just the words of their closest family but even the gods themselves.

In reality, suspicion was an enormous burden for the innocent. If doubts were dispelled, that was a fortunate outcome. But the process of proving one’s innocence took considerable time, and in many cases, suspicions remained unresolved. Ryoma Mikoshiba understood this all too well. The former queen, Lupis Rhoadserians, had never been able to trust him and always looked at him suspiciously. As a result, she had effectively exiled him to the Wortenia Peninsula under the guise of a reward for his great achievements. This was nothing more than the consequence of Queen Lupis’s inability to believe in Ryoma’s sincerity.

In this rigidly stratified world, it would be difficult to find anyone willing to fully trust a mere mercenary of unknown origin.

That was ultimately nothing more than Lupis Rhoadserians’s personal issue. At the very least, Ryoma had no intention of considering Lupis’s position or feelings; in reality, he never had. Many people preached the importance of empathy, urging others to consider the perspectives of those around them. But such an argument only held up when both parties saw eye to eye. If Lupis refused to consider Ryoma’s position, yet he was expected to take hers into account, he would be the only one forced to make concessions.

Had it been just once, that might have been acceptable...

But that would have been nothing more than an initial investment made under the assumption that Lupis Rhoadserians was trustworthy. Even if that investment yielded no return, there would have been no grounds for complaint. Why? Because Ryoma would have made the decision to trust Lupis.

That is precisely why the most important thing is to discern what kind of person stands before you—to see through their true nature. Trust those who should be trusted, and doubt those who should be doubted. And once you choose to believe in someone, you must have the resolve to see it through. In the end, that’s all there is to it.

Trust was, in essence, a matter of selection. As it turned out, Ryoma’s approach toward Queen Radine had been correct. Once she confirmed that he had sat on the sofa, Radine nodded in apparent satisfaction. She then turned toward Helena, who had been standing by the wall and silently observing the situation, and urged her to sit as well.

“Helena, there’s no need for you to remain standing. Please, have a seat.”

Helena nodded at her liege’s words before swiftly sitting down beside Radine. At that moment, Ryoma noticed the absence of someone who should have been present in the room. He tilted his head slightly in curiosity.

“Will Prime Minister McMaster not be joining us?”

It was a perfectly natural question. The discussion about to take place would have a significant impact on the future of the Kingdom of Rhoadseria. Queen Radine, the highest authority in the kingdom, and Helena, the newly appointed supreme commander of the military, were in attendance. It only made sense for the prime minister—the highest official in political affairs—to be present as well.

However, Helena responded to Ryoma’s question with a wry smile.

“He’s busy keeping the nobles who oppose Her Majesty’s recent declaration of support for the Mikoshiba Grand Duchy in check. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure he’s briefed on everything later.”

Ryoma couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle.

“I see... It seems I’ve caused quite a bit of trouble for everyone. My apologies.” With that, Ryoma turned back to Radine and bowed deeply once more. This was not an empty gesture but a sincere expression of gratitude from him. Her Majesty has been incredibly supportive in so many ways...

Radine had extended countless accommodations to Ryoma. Even now, she was taking measures to suppress the backlash from Rhoadserian nobles who opposed him. This could certainly be considered one of those accommodations. Her actions were not motivated by pure goodwill, a fact that Ryoma fully understood. Their relationship was strictly business, built on a foundation of mutual benefit. Regardless, human emotions were not always so easily compartmentalized. Even in a strictly businesslike relationship, repeated interactions naturally fostered a sense of familiarity. Moreover, the perception of Ryoma Mikoshiba as ruthless and coldhearted was not entirely accurate. He might have possessed a calculating and merciless side, but that did not mean he was incapable of understanding human emotions. In fact, he had the magnanimity to forgive even those who had once been his enemies.

This approach was evident in the way he had handled figures like Robert Bertrand, Signus Galveria, and Chris Morgan. Or rather, the mere fact that he still maintained a close relationship with Helena Steiner was proof enough of his capacity for tolerance. After all, Helena had once despaired over Lupis Rhoadserians’s rule and sworn to stand beside Ryoma Mikoshiba. However, she had unilaterally broken that promise. Saria Steiner’s tragic death at a young age had played a significant role in that decision. Regardless of the circumstances, the fact remained that Helena had betrayed Ryoma. Even after deposing Lupis Rhoadserians, Ryoma had never once reproached Helena for her actions. Far from blaming her, he had maintained a good relationship with her.

Moreover, Ryoma had recommended Helena as Radine’s guardian and appointed her as the supreme commander of the Rhoadserian army when Radine was made the new queen. Considering these facts, he was not the heartless and cruel man many believed him to be. If anything, he was a man with a surprising degree of compassion. What mattered most was that receiving Ryoma Mikoshiba’s consideration and courtesy required a certain level of worthiness.

Fortunately, Radine Rhoadserians was a ruler who deserved such respect from him. As Ryoma bowed his head, Radine slowly shook hers and lowered it deeply.

“Not at all... You have taken on many of the responsibilities that should rightfully fall upon me as queen. I feel ashamed that I can do so little in return.”

Had Radine been a masterful actress, perhaps even Ryoma might have been fooled by the expression she made then. However, the sorrow on her face made it abundantly clear that these were her true feelings. To him, she was nothing more than an earnest young girl desperately striving to fulfill her duties as queen while relying on the support of those around her.

After all, Radine is the illegitimate daughter of Pharst II, the former king of Rhoadseria, born to a commoner and raised outside the royal palace. She never received a proper royal education. I’ve heard that she’s been studying recently to make up for it. Given her limited free time between her duties as queen, there’s only so much she can dedicate to learning.

And yet, Radine was neither shameless nor irresponsible enough to use that as an excuse.

Just then, the observant Helena suddenly laughed to end their back-and-forth apologies. As the queen’s guardian, it was an impeccable decision.

“Honestly... If we keep going like this, we’ll never get to the main discussion, Your Majesty. If we don’t start soon, you’ll run out of time for your studies. Or could that be your intention?” Helena said, shrugging.

Radine blushed slightly and gave a small nod. Watching this endearing exchange from the side, Ryoma proceeded to report all the matters that needed to be shared in today’s meeting.

After ten minutes of listening to everything, Helena let out a deep sigh.

“I see... So the things King Julianus warned us about are finally starting to become a reality.”

Was that tension on her face? It was an expression rarely seen on the woman hailed as the Ivory Goddess of War. But this reaction was natural considering the looming threat of Alexis Duran and the Organization backing him. Radine, who had been silently absorbing the conversation, was trembling slightly. That alone was enough to tell Ryoma that she understood the gravity of the situation. Her heart was likely gripped by unease and fear. Even so, she refrained from interrupting, quietly listening to the exchange between Ryoma and Helena. She knew she lacked the means to overcome this crisis on her own. And yet, she remained steadfast despite her helplessness. It was a testament to her resolve to fulfill her duty as queen, no matter the odds.

She is far more worthy of serving than that woman ever was, Ryoma honestly thought.

“So, how do you plan to move forward? Will you prioritize negotiations with the Manibhadra tribe leader you took captive, or is dealing with the Organization the more pressing concern?” Helena asked.

Ryoma nodded slightly and said, “The latter. At this stage, I believe that is the most effective course of action. The political upheaval in the Kingdom of Myest and the ongoing price surges in the Kingdom of Helnesgoula are the result of the Organization’s interference. I’ve already explained the situation to Harisha and the others, and they understand.”

“I thought as much. It would be ideal if we could eliminate the root cause. But is it really possible? Their objectives remain unknown, don’t they? A military crackdown isn’t feasible, and even if you attempt negotiations, what exactly do you have to bargain with?”

Helena delicately placed a finger on her chin, tilting her head slightly. Her concerns were perfectly valid.

A direct military confrontation would be a mistake. Even if we manage to destroy some of their bases, it’s obvious their influence would persist elsewhere. That means the only viable option is to find common ground through negotiation.

But for that to happen, the Organization’s true objectives had to be made clear. Without understanding what they sought, Ryoma would have no terms to offer even if he sat at the negotiation table.

That said, I already have a fair idea.

From what Koichiro had vaguely conveyed to him, most members of this so-called Organization were either people summoned from Rearth or their descendants. This world was nothing short of hell for those accustomed to modern Rearth.

Considering all that, the Organization’s objective is fairly easy to guess.

Either way, it was still only Ryoma’s speculation. While Helena and Radine shared his goals, they were still natives of this world. If his guess was correct, there was a nonzero chance that the situation could escalate into an all-out war.

With these two, I doubt that would happen. But unnecessary risks should always be avoided.

No one could truly understand another person’s heart. For that reason, Ryoma chose to share only the concrete facts he possessed.

“Yes, that’s the issue. These people operate in the shadows of the western continent. Uncovering their true objectives won’t be easy. However, I’ve arranged a meeting with one of their executives through a certain intermediary. In half a month, I will be meeting them in Pherzaad. If things go well, we might finally uncover their intentions and open the door to negotiations.”

Helena’s face showed clear surprise. She hadn’t expected things to have progressed that far already.

“I see... So the groundwork has already been laid. Impressive as always,” remarked Helena before voicing her greatest concern. “But if that’s the case, the negotiations with the Organization will take quite a bit of time. I wonder if the front lines of the Kingdom of Xarooda can hold up until then?”

She had a perfectly reasonable concern. The main goal was to stop the O’ltormea Empire’s invasion of the Kingdom of Xarooda. Even if the negotiations with the Organization went well, they would be meaningless if Xarooda fell before then. However, Ryoma calmly nodded in response to the concern.

“As for that, there shouldn’t be any problem. I consulted with the commander when we sent additional soldiers to Xarooda a few days ago. We’ve already prepared countermeasures for this situation.”

“You mean the dark elves you sent to Xarooda recently... If I remember correctly, the general’s name was Nelcius, right?” The underlying tone of that remark carried a hint of concern. “I trust your judgment, Ryoma, but... Are you sure this will be okay?”

Of course, that “okay” carried many layers of meaning.

There was the notable matter of the unknown general Nelcius leading the forces, as well as the fact that the soldiers were all dark elves. Helena had known Ryoma for many years and was familiar with the names and faces of his subordinates.

But Helena had almost no information about Nelcius, who rarely left the Wortenia Peninsula. She only knew that he had once led dark elf troops during the northern subjugation started by Lupis, specifically in the battle on the Runoc Plains outside the fortress city of Epirus.

Of course, Helena had no intention of questioning Ryoma’s decision to appoint Nelcius as the commander of the reinforcements, but she would inevitably feel some unease about Nelcius’s abilities. Ryoma was fully aware of Helena’s concerns and had already taken steps to address them.

“We’ve already informed Joshua Belares through Lione, and I’ve ensured that the soldiers from the Kingdom of Xarooda won’t interact much with our troops. I’ve also arranged for the camp to be set up far from the Xaroodian forces... And, well... This time, we really had no choice but to rely on Nelcius.”

Helena tilted her head in confusion.

“What do you mean? Although you’ve already sent your main force to the Kingdom of Xarooda, you still have Chris and Leonard. Why send a nearly unknown dark elf general? It’s not just a matter of lacking troops, is it?”

In response to Helena’s question, Ryoma silently shook his head. Helena continued to study him with a penetrating gaze as if trying to read his innermost thoughts. But his expression didn’t show a flicker of unease under her scrutiny. He seemingly wouldn’t share the details with her. Eventually, Helena let out a heavy sigh.

“I see, you can’t talk about it, huh?”

“Yes... I’m sorry.”

“On Rearth, they say, ‘Keep your cards close to your chest,’ right? If I remember correctly... Well, fine. I understand. You’re that kind of person.”

Helena then glanced at Radine, who sat beside her, signaling for her to make a decision.

Understanding the unspoken cue, Radine nodded silently to demonstrate her final decision as the queen. In a way, Ryoma was given a blank check. Despite Radine’s understanding, she didn’t hesitate or show any signs of doubt. She was certain this decision was the best possible choice for the Kingdom of Rhoadseria and for herself as its ruler.

A few days later, three people disappeared from the royal capital of Epirus.