“Artium Empire?”
“Yes. Have you not heard of it?”
“I have, actually. Isn’t it that frozen land in the east?”
I was slightly taken aback by the sudden emergence of a nation that had long been detached from international affairs.
Weren’t they uninterested in war until now?
“As far as I know, they don’t follow the Goddess Church.”
“They worship native deities, and each region has its own, so there’s no real state religion to speak of.”
The Goddess Church is recognized as the sole faith across the continent, but not every nation adheres to it.
The most notable exceptions are the Artium Empire and the nomadic tribes of the southern grasslands.
Due to their harsh environments and limited external influence, these nations have maintained strong cultural and ideological independence.
As a result, they don’t particularly care whether gods exist or not—they just believe whatever they want.
“…And yet, they decided to get involved in this issue. Are they trying to keep their competitors in check?”
“Keep them in check?”
“Yes. With a large-scale war already underway, they might see this as an opportunity to drain the strength of the warring nations.”
There was no real reason for the Artium Empire to be involved in this war.
They had no alliances with any of the belligerent nations, nor did they have any colonies on the Helvetian Peninsula.
Even if they stayed out of it, they wouldn’t have been dragged into the conflict.
Yet, the moment religion became an excuse, they decided to stick their heads in.
This wasn’t about gaining anything from the war—it was about the war itself.
They wanted chaos.
Destruction.
They wanted nations to crumble and people to suffer.
Divide and conquer, huh?
Clever.
If the war dragged on, it would make it easier for them to expand westward while avoiding international scrutiny.
The Artium Empire had always been trapped in their frozen eastern lands, yearning for warmer western territories.
This was the perfect scenario for them.
“Isn’t this a huge problem, Ishmael? If another nation joins the war, things could get really bad.”
“That’s true. But I think it’ll be fine.”
An unexpected crisis.
Yet, rather than panicking, I calmly assessed the situation.
Maybe it was because the Artium Empire reminded me a lot of Russia from the old world—both in geography and culture.
Their national characteristics were quite similar, after all.
So, I wasn’t too worried.
“…Why not?”
“Because their military expeditions are a joke.”
They’re absolute garbage at fighting.
*****
“Artium Empire… has joined the war?”
King Haribel VII of Navre Kingdom clutched his throbbing forehead.
It was already frustrating enough that a small country like the Helvetian Republic was still holding out.
Now, a new enemy?
Why did this damned continent love meddling in each other’s affairs so much?
“So far, it’s just a formal statement of condemnation?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“But they won’t stop there.”
A statement like that was essentially a warning.
They were making their stance clear: We support Allein Kingdom and the Helvetian Republic.
You’re oppressing them?
Alright, we’re coming for you.
Get ready.
They just wrapped it up in diplomatic language, some noble-sounding rhetoric, and a bit of nonsense.
But at its core, it was a declaration of war.
It didn’t really matter if they gave a warning—their intention was to attack regardless.
“Minister of War.”
“Your command, Your Majesty.”
“We are already fighting both Allein Kingdom and the Helvetian Republic. If the Artium Empire joins as well, can we hold out?”
The War Minister pondered for a moment before responding with confidence—not even looking that concerned.
“It will not be difficult. Advancing and conquering would be a challenge, but defending? That, we can handle.”
“Really? I knew my army was loyal, but I didn’t expect them to be that capable.”
“It’s not just because we are strong. Our enemies are simply too weak.”
The Helvetian Republic?
That tiny country is good at defending, sure.
But they don’t have the strength to launch a counteroffensive.
Even now, they’re focusing on maintaining control over the territory they’ve taken, rather than pushing forward.
So, no need to worry about an attack from them.
What about the Allein Kingdom?
They’re still reeling from the blows we’ve dealt them.
They’re scrambling to gather their remaining troops and rally their vassal lords, which will take months at best.
If we fortify our defenses in the meantime, we won’t have to worry about being pushed back.
The only wildcard is the Artium Empire.
But those guys are idiots.
“I mean, why would we be afraid of some savages from a frozen wasteland?”
“Heh. You’re not wrong.”
The Artium Empire has vast lands—over ten times the size of the combined territories of the Navre Kingdom and the Kram Empire.
Mountains and forests cover so much of their land that they haven’t even named half of them.
They have plenty of pastures for horses and rich mines scattered everywhere.
But their population?
Only slightly larger than ours—maybe by a million at most.
Their roads are a mess, too.
When the ice melts in spring, the ground turns to mud, making it nearly impossible for carriages to pass.
Do you know what that means?
Their internal infrastructure is a disaster.
They have a massive territory but low population density.
Their governance is weak, and they can’t even make proper use of their resources.
Think of them like a high-end computer with a completely broken operating system.
They’d have to completely rebuild themselves from scratch to fix their problems.
“Rest assured, Your Majesty. No matter when they attack, your generals will bring you victory.”
“Good. I’ll be counting on it.”
If we were the ones attacking, it would be a nightmare.
The freezing weather, stretched supply lines, and lack of villages to raid would break our forces before we even reached their cities.
Hunger and disease would cripple our troops before the enemy even lifted a sword.
But if they are the ones attacking?
All of those problems become their burden instead.
Even if they send 100,000 soldiers, 30,000 will be lost before they arrive.
Another 40,000 will be too exhausted to fight properly.
The remaining 30,000 will be poorly equipped, starving, and barely functional.
Unless they suddenly produce a commander on par with Alexander the Great, defending against them will be laughably easy.
“Minister of Foreign Affairs, draft a formal letter of protest. Let those barbarians know we won’t tolerate their meddling.”
“I will take care of it immediately.”
“And send a message to Hispania as well. Why are they still sitting on the sidelines?”
Hispania may not be at its peak anymore, but it’s still a powerful force.
If they joined the war, the balance would tip in our favor.
They had interests in this conflict, so why were they silent?
“Perhaps they’re dealing with some internal issue?”
“And because of that, they’d just give up valuable land? Hispania isn’t that incompetent.”
Whatever their reason, it didn’t matter.
“Tell them if they lack provisions, we’ll supply them. What we need right now is their army.”
If Hispania attacked Helvetia, the republic would be forced into a two-front war.
Even if they just sent reinforcements, it would relieve pressure on us.
For Navre Kingdom, their involvement would be a blessing.
“Oh, and one more thing. I’ve heard a certain ideology is gaining traction in Helvetia… ‘One people, one nation, one leader,’ or something like that?”
“Foolish nonsense, Your Majesty. Pay it no mind.”
“Actually, I think it could be useful for us. With a few tweaks, it could work for our kingdom.”
Since we couldn’t rely solely on foreign help, strengthening our own military was a necessity.
If our enemies provided a useful strategy, why not take advantage of it?
“Have the court scholars study it.”
“As you command.”
If it failed, no big deal.
But if it worked?
It would be a game-changer.
The king had no idea he was about to unleash a ticking time bomb.
*****
Meanwhile, at the Academy
“Ah, I see. I understand now. Your level of intelligence. It’s so pathetic, I feel like dying of boredom.”
Ismael was obliterating the examiners with calculus and classical economic theory.