Translator: KJ

[ Republic of Prozen Strongly Condemns Valkania's Illegal Invasion! ]

[ Itelik Kingdom Declares Participation in Economic Sanctions Against Valkania ]

[ Statement fro⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌m the Robrus Eastern Alliance: "Cease this anachronistic and barbaric war of aggression at once!" ]

As expected, the major nations across the continent denounced the war of aggression one after another. At the same time, they cut off trade with Valkania. The supply of strategic materials and food had been severed.

A pretty pretext: doing it all for the sake of the weak little nation of Mekerel.

The entire continent was isolating Valkania and pointing fingers, yet the Empire alone still kept its mouth shut, and in this very situation.

"It suits you well."

I had summoned Professor Ruben to the heart of the Empire and dressed him in a top-tier tailored suit.

"Ah, thank you..."

The brand was 'Exinon'. A high-end tailor favored by the nobles of the Imperial Palace, and also the place that exclusively produces the dress uniforms of the Sentinel Knight Order.

"Professor Ruben. Keep this in mind. No matter what the person you meet today says to you, you must repeat only flattering remarks, as if by habit."

As I personally straightened the fit of his clothes, I drilled into him the method for handling Reutern II.

"Flattering remarks..."

"For instance, even if he spouts nonsense about Valkania's current affairs."

The nobles of the Imperial Palace, especially the sort like Reutern, find scholars extremely grating and often end up at odds with them.

The reason is simple.

Scholars cannot stand the nonsense that nobles spew while pretending to know things. Because they keep cutting in mid-sentence to point out where the noble is 'wrong'.

"If there is even the slightest correct context mixed in among it—"

I emphasized this while staring into Ruben's eyes.

"Your expression may be a touch exaggerated. You may raise the pitch of your voice. Pour out your praise without restraint."

"...Yes. Understood. But."

Professor Ruben asked cautiously.

"And if there isn't a single correct thing in anything he says...?"

"Not eve⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌n one?"

"Yes. Not a single one."

"...It doesn't matter. So long as the conclusion drawn from that flawed logic aligns with our purpose."

Our purpose was to incite and cement, within the Imperial Palace, the perception that 'Valkania is an incompetent nation of no use whatsoever to the Empire'.

"Academic right and wrong are of no importance at all."

Reutern II was incompetent and frivolous, but as a loudspeaker steering the public opinion of the Imperial Palace, his value surpassed anyone else's value. He had become a royal of that much stature.

Therefore, we had to make Reutern delude himself into thinking he was an 'expert on the Valkania situation', for only then would our intentions reach the Emperor's ears as well.

"Professor Ruben. This is a most grave mission, one upon which the security and future of the Empire depend."

Of course, in the process Reutern might earn the Emperor's displeasure, but Valkania's incompetence would be proven before long anyway.

They were the sort who couldn't even properly beat a weak little nation without the Empire's help.

"...Yes. I shall keep it in mind."

Professor Ruben drew a d⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌eep breath.

* * *

Noon, with sunlight streaming in. Reutern II's lavish private chamber.

He sat reclined at an angle on the sofa, gazing intently at Professor Ruben, who sat upright across from him.

"Hmm~ now that I've listened to your whole spiel, Professor."

He spoke while lightly swirling the teacup in his hand.

"So what you're saying is, these Valkania bastards aren't really worth our Empire taking on as an ally?"

"...An ally, you say?"

"Yeah. There's been a rumor like that going around the palace lately."

"Aha... Might I ask for your esteemed view on just why you think they're not worth it?"

Professor Ruben asked back carefully.

"Come on, isn't it obvious? In war, supply lines are everything, and materiel, equipment, machinery matter most, but didn't you say it yourself earlier? That they carve out their tanks by hand. So they can't match the volume."

"Yes! Precisely right!"

At the sudden exclamation, Reutern's body gave a startled twitch.

"You scared me."

"You've struck right at the core of it."

"...Have I?"

"Yes. To see through, in a single stroke, the absence of mass-production capacity that is the very essence of modern warfare. To grasp so sharply a blind spot that even academia readily overlooks, what tremendous insight you have."

"Hmm~"

Even at Ruben's flowery phrases, Reutern managed his expression. Forcing down his twitching lips, he straightened his posture slightly.

"Is that so? Well~ and this is just my personal opinion, but isn't the war justification a total stretch too? Does it make any sense to insist that just because some land was their territory hundreds of years ago, it's still their land now?"

"Heh... Indeed, a truly ingenious notion."

Ruben clasped both hands together as if unable to contain his admiration. The curls of Reutern's hair bristled upward.

"...Everything's genius, is it?"

"I mean it sincerely. The point you just raised is precisely the one that many political commentators are overlooking."

"What? Why's it overlooked so often?"

"That is exactly how exceptional your discernment is, Lord Reutern. To begin with, Mekerel never even belonged to Valkania's formal territory in the past."

"Oh, really? They were actually just insisting on it?"

Reutern II's eyes went wide.

"Yes. Mekerel and Valkania were indeed bound together in the past as a single nation called Balkan, but Balkan is not Valkania. Valkania merely claims, unilaterally, to have inherited Balkan."

"Mm~ I see."

He listened to the professor's words with his ears while picking up snacks and eating them with his hand.

"Furthermore, the tribes of the Mekerel region possessed a clear sovereignty and identity from that very time."

"Aha~ so then Mekerel thought from the very start that they were an entirely different breed from Valkania? Different race and all?"

In that instant, Professor Ruben sucked in a breath with a gasp and went round-eyed.

"!"

"Wh-what is it? Did I say something wrong?"

Reutern asked back with a start. Professor Ruben cried out in a voice brimming with emotion.

"Astounding, Lord Reutern. To perceive the essence of it before I had even managed to bring it up! Yes, that's correct. Race. The very fact that the racial roots differ is the heart of this entire affair."

"Ahem. Is it now?"

Reutern cleared his throat for no real reason.

The remarks he'd been casually tossing out were being acknowledged by an expert of the Empire's highest caliber.

'Could I be... a diplomatic genius who grasps current affairs and the political situation by sheer intuition?'

"If the principal races differ, how could one possibly call them a single nation? Consider our own Empire."

"Right. Exactly. In the Empire, that'd be a hell of a thing to suggest. It really is the crux of it."

A triumphant smile bloomed across Reutern II's face, and Professor Ruben went on to expound upon Valkania's shoddy military structure.

That day, Reutern conversed with Ruben for quite a long while.

The promised two hours became three, three became four, four became five, and around the time they grew hungry, they went off to Lilac Vita and chattered some more...

In any case, Reutern had a great time running his mouth.

"By now, among the nobles of the Imperial Palace, there is likely no expert who knows Valkania as well as you, Lord Reutern──"

That remark Professor Ruben left behind before they parted,

that praise of being an 'expert',

lodged itself firmly in Reutern's ear.

......

Nearly every nation on the continent had declared its position on the Valkania-Mekerel war.

And yet the Emperor, from beyond the heavy curtains of the Inner Sanctum, scarcely let his own voice be heard. Instead, he observed his officials. The brief words that occasionally slipped out from the darkness were tests in the form of questions.

In the end, the Emperor would weigh and confirm the will of all his subjects, and only then push forward his true intent without hesitation.

That was why today's cabinet meeting felt more like thin ice than ever.

"..."

The great conference hall of the Imperial Palace's House of Nobles. Today was a special session, convened to discuss a particular agenda, namely the Empire's response.

Sonnet Kandel sat at the scribe's desk, pen in hand, trying to read the heavens' intent.

'It seems His Majesty intends to conceive of some strange notion.'

Her intuition whispered.

The Empire was a great power, but precisely for that reason it was no different from a thoroughly isolated island.

And so the Emperor was lonely.

He wanted an ally who would join him in this solitary hegemony, or serve as a shield for him.

'...He's a weak man.'

Sonnet erased that final assessment of hers from within her mind.

"Still, isn't Prime Minister Azento of Valkania demonstrating quite excellent leadership?"

Among the officials, voices began to slip out praising Prime Minister Azento.

It was because the Emperor let slip a subtle reaction only to such remarks.

"They say that even in His Majesty's youth, he was deeply inspired by Prime Minister Azento's decisive conduct..."

Prime Minister Azento was, of course, no ordinary man. A dictator who, with his formidable strength and charisma, had reduced Valkania's king to a puppet and in effect swallowed whole the real power of the nation.

Perhaps to an Emperor who pursued absolute power, Azento was the sort of figure who stirred a kind of kinship, or an odd sense of fascination.

"More to the point, aren't these western nation bastards being far too underhanded? If they're going to condemn Valkania, then just condemn them. What's this about cutting off trade?"

"My thoughts exactly. If they're that disgusted, they may as well wage war. Apparently that's the one thing they can't do. What a bunch of cowards, honestly."

The scribe Sonnet was busily writing away with her pen, watching the situation unfold, when.

"Lady Sonnet."

Someone called to her in a low voice. It was Chief of Staff Grossman.

"This Valkania affair, Young Lady, what is your thinking on it?"

As the scribe, Sonnet recorded the following:

[ The Chief of Staff asked. "This Valkania affair, Young Lady, what is your thinking on it?" ]

A wry smile spread across Grossman's lips. Sonnet recorded that wry smile too as she answered.

"My thoughts aren't what matter."

For one thing, the needs of Valkania and the Empire toward each other lined up perfectly. For Valkania, isolated and condemned by the whole continent, there was no choice but to take the Empire's hand.

"...I wonder how long he intends to keep up the pretense of not knowing."

Sonnet wrote down every word of Grossman's private muttering. Grossman shook his head from side to side, then suddenly l⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌ooked off somewhere. Sonnet followed his gaze.

There── stood a certain royal.

The center of a faction. A man seated in a spot conspicuous even among the precious bloodlines, coldly surveying the councilors and officials of the House of Nobles.

Reutern II.

Unlike his usual self, he wasn't dozing, nor yawning, and he swept back his hair with a none-too-pleasant expression. The nobles around him, sensing his unusual manner, were watching him warily.

─As you are all aware, the Kingdom of Valkania recently invaded Mekerel to the south.

In the meantime, Foreign Minister 'Theodor' signaled the official start of the meeting.

"Despite the fact that Valkania's reclamation of territory is, historically speaking, an entirely legitimate measure, the international community currently brands them invaders and rains down fierce condemnation upon them."

He continued, sweeping his eyes over the faces of the councilors.

"On top of that, they are imposing embargoes on core resources such as Mana Stones, steel, and food, to cut off Valkania's lifeline."

"..."

But Sonnet's eyes rested not on Theodor, but on Reutern.

His state seemed troubling, no matter how she looked at it.

"Therefore, I propose: should we not lend our strength to Valkania, who now stands in a crisis of utter isolation, friendless and without aid?"

Theodor's voice was already filled with conviction.

To Sonnet's mind, it meant he believed he had, in his own way, grasped the Emperor's intent.

"Historically speaking as well, the enemy of our enemy is our friend. This is part of a most strategic diplomatic judgment."

Most of the officials in the conference hall fell silent. But it leaned not toward opposition, but toward agreement.

Grossman, too, nodded with a faint smile, and just as the mood was flowing toward most everyone siding with Theodor's argument.

"Then, first, in the name of the Empire, extend support to Valkania—"

"Wait."

At the very moment such a conclusion was about to be reached, someone raised a hand as if to object.

Everyone's attention concentrated on him. He seized the gazes of the assembly.

Both Sonnet and Grossman turned to look there.

"I have something to convey from this point forward."

It was Reutern II, who had risen with a confidence-brimming smile.

He strode imposingly up to the podium and laid certain documents upon the round table.

"This is the truth about that ungrateful and incompetent nation called Valkania."

Sonnet's pen came to an abrupt halt. Into the ear of the woman who had momentarily forgotten her duty, a small voice flowed in.

"Lady Sonnet. You ought to be recording, quickly."

It was Grossman's remark, as though he had, on the contrary, anticipated this very situation.

* * *

I had left the Imperial diplomacy in Reutern II's hands. I wished for him to splendidly fulfill his part in the House of Nobles; now it was time for me to do my own work.

"Dieter. Are the preparations all in order?"

A trade port in the Canilan Independent State, where the sea wind came lashing in.

I asked while looking down over the moored cargo ships.

"Yes. All loading is complete."

Dieter handed me a document.

From here on, the millions of rifles and rounds of ammunition, along with the vast quantity of Mana Stone Bombs, all purchased through Canilan's shell companies, would now be shipped to the weakest of the south, Mekerel, which had just been invaded.

And I would 'subtly' conceal the party behind this large-scale weapons support. Even if I left it alone, the rumor would spread on its own.

"Let's set sail right away."

I want the relationship between the Empire and Valkania to be utterly shattered.

If at all possible, no, if it can be done, I want Valkania to regard the Empire as a sworn enemy and instead latch onto the Eastern Alliance or the western nations.

The Empire must be thoroughly alone.

The Empire has no ne⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌ed of allies.

To desire an alliance is to be weak, and a weak Empire cannot survive.

The moment it leans on a half-baked alliance and comes to distrust its own strength, or relies on external variables, the Empire's blade will dull.

"I will give the order to set sail."

At the conduct of the Empire pouring weapons into an enemy nation, Prime Minister Azento of Valkania might fly into a rage and protest to the Imperial court.

But the moment Valkania crosses the line and barks─ the Empire will show its most Empire-like face of all.

The Empire does not soothe a loudly barking dog.

It simply blows its head off with a gun.

~~~

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