In the depths of the night, the tranquil darkness hid the starlight, but within the Commander’s office at the Unyielding Bastion Fortress, the lights blazed brightly.
“So, the whereabouts of the Barbarian Army’s commander have already been confirmed?”
At the head of the lavish desk, Theresa, now dressed in a brand new military uniform, sat steadily in her large chair, a touch of anxiety and anticipation on her face as she presided over her very first military strategy meeting.
“Yes.” Colonel Raine, the Chief of Staff, stood up and unfolded the map he had already prepared.
Bzzz——
With the addition of magical power, the rough parchment, covered in powdery ink, shimmered with specks of silver light. At once, a lifelike scene seemed to appear before everyone’s eyes, as though they were there in person.
“So this is… advanced magitek?” Green felt a strange sense of dissonance deep in his heart.
Perhaps magitek had malfunctioned, or maybe this world had taken a different path of development. After all, even in the wealthiest, most advanced neutral City-state, the standard of living was at best equivalent to Blue Star’s nineteenth century, just at the dawn of the industrial revolution.
Yet in certain fields, thanks to magitek, they had leaped ahead in strangely advanced ways.
“On one hand, vast numbers of commoners are still bound to farms, spending their lives bent over fields. On the other, the upper class in big cities have already stepped into a Utopia of extreme material abundance.”
Inspired, Green suddenly burst into creativity beside them, grabbing a quill and scribbling furiously.
The enthusiastic officers present, however, either deliberately ignored or simply failed to notice Green’s distraction, and continued their heated discussion.
“Please look here.” Colonel Raine pointed to a steep cliff. “This is Stronghold 008. It’s our last line of defense on the disputed wasteland at the front, but after the barbarians captured it this afternoon, they started setting up camp and making repairs.”
“According to their usual habits, they wouldn’t act like this. Normally, they’d move quickly and plunder nearby villages before we could even react.”
Though he could be rather unreliable at times, Raine, standing by the military conference table, displayed all the qualities a soldier should have.
“Maybe it’s because they have such large numbers this time?” Theresa offered a reasonable guess. “Before, they could fight straight through with what they carried, but now they’ve brought over ten thousand people…”
“Commander, ma’am.” Martin, standing by, bowed slightly and explained, “You may not be familiar with those barbarians’ customs. Their culture values the law of the jungle, survival of the fittest. In their eyes, anyone too weak to fight or who dies for lack of supplies isn’t even worth mentioning.”
“Letting nature weed them out only makes their people stronger overall.”
Green quietly nodded on the side.
He already knew these things well, but seeing the fortress’s higher-ups prove themselves to be more than useless fools still pleased him.
“If one wants to ascend the throne, a reliable team is essential—especially now that Theresa has been stripped of her inheritance rights.”
Green glanced at the officers’ uniforms, his gaze profound.
“Yet, for some reason, the Emperor didn’t imprison Theresa but threw her to the border as Commander?”
To be honest, Green couldn’t make sense of the old Emperor’s logic.
By rights, military power should always be an absolute taboo for any ruler, never allowed into another’s hands—even those of their own child.
“Though one could explain it by the fortress’s decline… it still feels like there’s a deeper reason behind it all.”
Green never hesitated to suspect others of ill intent, especially when the other party was a monarch.
“But for now, the most urgent thing is to win a victory.”
This was the desperate path Green had plotted for Theresa—finding life in the midst of death.
“Looking at things now, among all the Emperor’s many children, Theresa is the weakest. She has no powerful maternal family to rely on, and she’s already been deprived of the right to inherit the throne.”
Green analyzed calmly.
“But on the other hand, this has let her escape the bloody, treacherous struggle for succession.”
A loser would never attract much attention. In fact… for the sake of ‘social reputation’, this ‘harmless imperial princess’ might even receive a bit of ‘goodwill’ from the other heirs.
This was a breakthrough.
“From this perspective, the fortress commander position is actually quite good—advance if you can, retreat if you must.”
Of course, all this depended on securing a victory.
And that… was his responsibility.
“So, what is the Barbarian commander’s true goal?”
Troubled, Theresa rose and began pacing the office, deep confusion clouding her brow.
Martin and Raine exchanged glances, both at a loss.
“In any case, Commander, the most important thing now is to send a reliable envoy to express our… ah, goodwill to the barbarians.”
Old Martin offered his suggestion.
“An envoy? That’s right. Raine, when you negotiated the tribute with the barbarians before, you always used an intermediary, didn’t you?”
Theresa folded her arms, her long legs clad in military boots stamping hard on the wooden floor, causing it to creak.
“Uh, reliable isn’t quite the word, but that man could communicate a bit with the barbarians. What was his name again?”
Raine scratched his head awkwardly. As an Imperial soldier, equipped with the latest magitek, he found it humiliating to have to negotiate with a bunch of uncultured barbarians who only trafficked in stolen Crystal Energy Guns…
Raine never cared much for military honor, but even so, having to bow and scrape to the barbarians made him feel disgraced as an officer of the Empire.
“That old Andy, right?”
Before Raine could recall the man’s name, Green spoke up first.
“Huh?” Raine jerked his head up in shock, looking at the ‘Bard’ in the corner, who almost seemed to have no presence at all.
At the moment, Green was already dressed in uniform. Though he hadn’t been officially given rank, so there were no insignias on his chest, he had the bearing of an officer, and his furious writing made him look for all the world like the army’s secretary.
“How do you know?” Raine blinked, curiosity filling his voice.
“A bard has to be good at observing and deducing, doesn’t he?”
Green thought back to meeting the sly, sharp merchant at the fortress gate not long ago.
“When I arrived at the barracks with the Commander today, I saw that old Andy.”
“Even so.” Martin looked on with interest. “Mr. Green, how did you deduce from just observation that he has contacts among the barbarians, and could be our go-between?”
Green responded with a mysterious smile. “It’s simple. From several details that set him apart from ordinary merchants.”
“First, Andy’s clothes were covered in dust—and not the regular city kind, but the special sand of the wasteland, from the front lines.”
Green spoke confidently. “That proves the merchant often roams the wasteland.”
“Second, when he was selling goods, a soldier once complained that he’d sold them spoiled sausage…”
A glint flashed in Green’s eyes.
“Sausage? For a merchant with connections, one able to come and go in the fortress as he pleased, isn’t it odd to be selling such goods? The only reason is, for some reason, he must keep a large supply of sausage in reserve, and rather than waste leftovers, he sells them to the soldiers.”
Green continued, “And finally—his background.”
“How can a merchant move freely in and out of the fortress?” Green’s gaze grew sharp as he looked at Martin and Raine.
“He must have someone’s approval. For corrupt officers like the quartermaster or Lieutenant Carl, maybe a simple bribe will do, but for men like you, I suspect there’s a more compelling reason. Just as, for certain reasons, you must tolerate the likes of the quartermaster and Lieutenant Carl.”
That was Green’s conclusion.
His deduction was met with a long silence.
Creak——
The office door opened, and the stooped, cautious figure of old Andy entered Green’s line of sight—the same man who had been hawking goods outside earlier.
“G-General Martin, you wanted to see me?” Old Andy, pale and trembling, looked up. “S-sir, I barely know Lieutenant Carl, and I don’t know anything about quartermaster corruption! Please, General, don’t misunderstand!”
Thud.
Before anyone else could speak, Andy knelt smoothly on both knees, begging for mercy.
“Tch.” Raine, unceremoniously, grabbed the sly merchant by the collar. “Hey, who doesn’t know about your dirty business?”
Bang.
Raine plunked the merchant into an empty chair.
“Still, you’re lucky, Andy—we actually need you right now.”
“Need me?”
Desperate for survival, Andy’s eyes gleamed. “Just say the word, sir, and I’ll get it done! Ah, is it about the barbarians in the west again? Don’t worry, sir, I’ll do my best to haggle down the tribute for you!”
“Hmph.”
Raine glanced at Theresa. Receiving a nod from the Commander, he passed on the earlier plan—asking Andy to deliver a message to the Barbarian commander.
Bang.
The door closed again.
“But, Mr. Green.” Watching the merchant flee in disgrace, Raine said with suspicion, “Do you really think the Barbarian commander will agree to our negotiations?”
“He will, Colonel Raine.”
Green replied with absolute confidence. “Because this time, the Barbarian Army’s target is none other than Her Highness Theresa. That’s why they broke with their usual habits and set up camp—for fear she might flee if panic spread.”
“What?!”
Green’s stunning assertion left everyone present gaping in shock.
That night, in the Barbarian Army’s grand tent.
“In short, oh great Supreme King of Kings, invincible in battle and destined to rule the world—”
A battered figure knelt humbly before a throne built of skeletal remains, and spoke in a trembling voice, “This is the request from our fortress commander, the Imperial Princess Theresa. Your Majesty, I beg you to show your boundless generosity and grant the princess’s wish—let her behold your great and heroic presence with her own eyes.”
“…”
On the Skull Throne, the figure read the parchment carefully for a long time, then casually tossed it aside.
“To ensure our people’s safety, please bring no more than two hundred attendants. Otherwise, we will refuse to pay tribute, stand fast in the fortress, and wait for the Imperial army to arrive and wipe you out.”
The figure on the throne recited the letter’s words coldly, “You dishonest dog.”
A thunderous voice struck the kneeling figure below like a hammer blow.
Damn it!
The intermediary, Andy, wanted to cry but had no tears, cursing in his heart.
If not for the seal on me, I’d abandon my whole fortune and run for my life!
“But…” Just as Andy thought he was dead for sure, the suffocating pressure vanished. “I forgive you. Tell your fortress’s master that I accept her terms—but this year’s tribute must be ten times higher.”
Ten times?!
Even if they sold the whole fortress, they couldn’t scrape up that much!
Cold sweat streamed down Andy’s back.
But of course, he wasn’t foolish enough to bluster about “haggling the price” like he did at the fortress. Instead, he kowtowed furiously, replying, “Yes, yes, Your Majesty! Your humble and loyal servant will deliver your command without fail.”
“Go.”
The Barbarian commander waved his hand in disgust.
“Yes, yes!” Andy, feeling as though a pardon had fallen from heaven, sprang to his feet and darted out of the tent.
“Father King, those damned city folk must be scheming. Shouldn’t we just follow our original plan and raid all the nearby towns?”
No sooner had Andy left than a burly man in heavy armor, gripping a warhammer, rumbled beside the Barbarian King, “We’ve brought over ten thousand this time! We’ll never have to fear those sneaky bastards’ ambush again!”
The burly man rubbed the prominent scar on his forehead. “Raine! That despicable bastard! I want to turn his head into a goblet, and make his wife, daughter, and sisters my slaves!”
“No, Chris, my dear son and heir.”
The figure on the throne actually spoke with rare tenderness. “That’s not my aim this time.”
“Huh?”
Chris, the Barbarian Prince, looked to the Supreme King of Kings in confusion.
“Those city folk are always like this—always at each other’s throats.”
The Barbarian commander pulled a thin letter from beside the throne. “Look at this. The Crown Prince, future master of all city folk, sent me this letter.”
The Barbarian Prince took the letter, laboriously deciphering its complicated script. “Um… as long as we capture the fortress’s master and hand them over, the Crown Prince promises not to send troops against us, and is willing to give us the fortress and nearby towns?”
“What a strange request…” Prince Chris scratched his head, still puzzled. “So, Father, you agreed? But city folk are all so crafty—if that prince is their future master, he must be even craftier…”
Rip.
“Indeed.” The Supreme King of Kings tore up the letter. “But I truly do want to capture the fortress’s master… Princess Theresa.”
“A w-woman?” Chris suddenly noticed something, and it clearly wasn’t the same as his father’s focus. “The fortress’s master is a woman?”
“Yes, and a woman most suited to be your wife.”
The Supreme King of Kings grinned, baring sharp fangs. “Capture her, make her your wife. Then, my beloved son, we can use her to conquer more and more cities and gain more and more slaves.”
“So, to keep that timid princess from running, we’ll agree to bring only two hundred men to the negotiation. After all…”
Boom!
The Supreme King of Kings released a terrifying aura, pinning Chris in place.
“Before absolute strength, the city folk’s schemes are always powerless.”
So declared the Supreme King of Kings.