Let’s rewind time a little—to the Kram Empire.
It had been nearly two years since the war began.
And within one noble household, a tragedy occurred.
“Oh, my son!!!”
“You were so determined to earn merit in the war… and yet, you return as a corpse?!”
“M-Madam!? Please, get a hold of yourself!”
The heir of the House of Marquis Grushi had died.
Cause of death: explosion.
He was leading a battalion on the front lines when he got caught in enemy artillery fire.
“Damn it… You fool. Why did you have to die there? What will happen to this house without you?”
“Master, a representative from the Imperial Court has arrived. They’ve come to express their condolences…”
“Ha. So they’re already making moves to devour our family? That sly bastard of an Emperor…”
Originally, Marquis Grushi had five sons.
But now, all of them had passed away.
The first died of illness.
The third was killed in action while serving on a warship.
The fourth died in a carriage accident.
The fifth was caught in a bomb attack while stationed at the rear command.
And now, even the second—his last remaining son—had gone to heaven.
“Is there… anyone young left in our family? I don’t care if it’s a distant branch or even an illegitimate child.”
On the surface, it might sound like something not so uncommon.
And in truth, such tragedies were not rare.
With the war being so intense, it wasn’t unusual for noble officers to lose their lives.
However, the problem this time was that the recently deceased had been the sole heir of the House of Grushi.
“I’m sorry, my lord… but there is no one.”
“What?”
“Even the branch families are in similar conditions. There is one illegitimate child, but we lost contact long ago and have no idea where he is.”
“This is insane.”
Marquis Grushi had always been short on heirs.
Perhaps it was due to the nature of his bloodline—or maybe just bad luck.
But with the war thrown into the mix, it had led to the worst possible outcome.
“At this rate, once I die, our house will fall. Vultures will crawl out with all sorts of ridiculous claims to take over our lands.”
“My lord, perhaps it’s time to consider adopting an heir…”
“From where? Who could possibly offer someone worthy of our house’s name?”
In the past, it wouldn’t have come to this.
Even during times of war, it would usually be a few months of skirmishes between two armies before a victor was decided.
Even the more intense conflicts were usually sieges or open battles when both sides had the strength.
But now?
“No one will help our family. Even those who want to won’t have the means.”
“Because… too many have died, haven’t they?”
“Yes.”
Massive armies had been mobilized for years—an unprecedented scale in history.
Back in the day, armies of this scale were only mobilized for decisive battles, but now they’re maintained constantly.
And it’s not just about maintaining them—skirmishes with the enemy break out all the time.
Wherever a gap shows, they attack, and then defend, again and again.
The attrition rate skyrocketed—both in manpower and military supplies.
“I should decide now where to hand over the territory. That’s better than just waiting for the house to go extinct.”
“Lord Marquis…”
“Thank you all. You’ve endured so much supporting this incompetent man by my side.”
That’s how this tragedy came to be.
Because all the men in one noble family had died, the future vanished along with them.
Even a high-ranking family like the Marquisate of Grushi had, overnight, fallen into a state of waiting for its end.
And this news—spread quickly among other noble families as well.
“To think the Grushi family would disappear like this…”
“We might be next. We have to come up with some sort of plan.”
“You’re right, but the question is what exactly to do.”
The extinction of a family.
To nobles obsessed with honor and tradition, nothing was more terrifying.
The bloodline passed down for hundreds of years, expected to continue onward, suddenly severed.
Just imagining it was horrifying.
“Should we start preparing to adopt an heir in advance?”
“That would just be someone else’s child. We need to leave behind someone who carries our blood.”
“Then we need to keep our children alive… We might have to pull some strings with the military.”
And so, the noble elite quickly made their moves.
They decided not to send their children into danger.
If their children had to serve in the military, they ensured they were reassigned to the safest posts.
Bribes were given to conscription officers and officers with connections to obtain exemptions.
Some even faked illnesses or caused trouble to avoid conscription altogether.
“What about sending them on a trip? If they say they’re heading east, they’ll be safe for the next three years.”
“That won’t work. I hear sea patrols are tight these days. Saying they’re away for medical reasons would be more believable.”
A desperate struggle to preserve the family line at all costs.
These efforts by the Kram nobles, so bold and conspicuous,did not take long to reach the Great Steppe.
*****
“Are they stupid or something?”
As always, I let out a sigh as I read through the reports—tired of the endless foolishness of the high and mighty.
“What’s wrong, darling?”
Kalia asked in her gentle voice,holding me from behind in a tight embrace.
Feeling her warmth and softness against my back and neck, I gave a brief explanation to her curiosity.
“They’re being too obvious. I get why they’re doing it, but still, there should be a limit.”
Pulling heirs and children out of the army to preserve their noble lines?
Keeping them somewhere safe until the war ends?
It’s an understandable action.
For nobles who take pride in their blue blood, preserving the bloodline is more important than anything.
But if they were going to do it, they should’ve at least acted with some finesse.
There are plenty of subtle methods, you know?
Pretending to be injured and getting sent to the rear, or hiring a double.
Even with just a little thought, there are countless alternatives—but these idiots are out here throwing tantrums, blatantly saying they don’t want to die.
Even if they were afraid of their house being wiped out, acting so recklessly won’t do them any good.
“Commoners aren’t fools. If nobles do suspicious things, they’ll notice right away.”
“Are you saying that’ll happen this time too?”
“Most likely. At the very least, resentment will definitely start piling up.”
It’s a common delusion among the upper class of this era, but commoners aren’t stupid.
They just lack knowledge because they had fewer opportunities to learn.
With nobles acting like this, even the citizens of the Kram Empire will soon realize it.
That while they’re dying like dogs, those bastards are safe somewhere enjoying luxury.
Normally, maybe people would have let it slide.
But now?
This is wartime.
And not just any war—this is humanity’s first primitive total war, where even civilian goods and labor are being conscripted.
It won’t be easy to make it through unscathed.
Many citizens have been swept up in nationalist propaganda and enlisted en masse.
They’re offering their wealth and labor to the state and fighting with their lives for the glory of their nation and people.
They’re being exploited more brutally than ever, all for a few lofty ideals.
And yet, they endure it, believing it’s for a better future—because they were taught that it’s for their country and their king.
If, under such circumstances, only the nobles are made exceptions, soon people will start to ask:
•Why are those bastards the exception? Why aren’t they sacrificing for the country?
•Aren’t they citizens of Kram too?
•Non-citizens? So they’re non-citizens?
•Then why should we take orders from such national traitors?
Once authority collapses, it’s only a matter of time before power shakes.
A privileged class that has lost respect can never survive long-term.
At least royalty has symbolic value as a unifying force and foundation of the system—nobles don’t even have that.
“So will a rebellion break out?”
“Hmm… I doubt it’ll happen right away.”
I patted Kalia’s head as she lay on top of me.
She purred and pressed even closer, her horns slightly blocking my view.
Her chest pressing around my face felt stifling—but honestly, it felt good.
Maybe I’ll ask her for a paizuri tonight.
“The system is still holding up for now.”
Anyway.
From my perspective, it’s unlikely that this alone will lead to a large-scale rebellion just yet.
The massive conscript army built through universal conscription is still intact.
And the artificially engineered reverence toward the royal family, fueled by propaganda, still holds strong.
Even if there’s internal unrest and injustice, society as a whole won’t collapse unless there’s a shock from the outside.
It’ll take more time for this to come crashing down.
Like the military suffering a devastating defeat, or the war turning into a catastrophe.
But… a small-scale disturbance or two?
That’s definitely going to happen.
Minor incidents sparked by resentment toward those in power or small conflicts—those kinds of things were bound to happen.
“For now, let’s just wait and see. I bet we’ll hear something within a few weeks.”
“Then in the meantime, we can make love to our hearts’ content.”
“You really are something. Aren’t you a bit too obsessed with that?”
“Do you dislike it, by any chance?”
“…It’s not that.”
*****
As expected, Ishmael’s prediction hit the mark.
“Give back the food you stole from us!!”
“We broke our backs harvesting wheat, so why can’t we even eat a slice of bread in peace?!”
“We can’t take this anymore—let’s rise up!”
“We farmed to feed ourselves, not to fatten your stomachs while we starve!”
Unable to endure the food shortage and excessive requisitioning any longer, a rural village had raided the army’s food warehouse.