It can be said that the Philades Continent, the land east of the Central World where the Third Civilization Area is located, is a reflection of what the Middle Lands were like during the Warring Kingdoms Period three millennia ago. No matter if it’s among the mild climate of the south to the frigid lands of the north, kingdoms were born and die, and from their long-forgotten ashes, others will rise. For centuries upon centuries, they engaged in relentless warfare, each striving to expand their dominion, impose their will upon others, and claim an ideal world painted in their image. Wars were fought for honor, resources, revenge, or merely the desire to assert dominance over their rivals. Castles were raised and crumbled, alliances forged and broken, and blood was spilled upon the soil like rain from darkened clouds.
Philades was a cursed land through and through.
The Dragon of Philades, the Parpaldia Empire, was also born on the same blood-soaked battlefield, harboring the same grudge and ambition as its neighbors. Like many, its founders also firmly believed that peace could only exist on this cursed land when borders between nations were erased and the realm was united under a single banner. The history of the Middle Lands was their inspiration, its unification was what they want to imitate, and eventually, the rising Parpaldia dreams to become the August Star of Heaven’s equal. The conquest of Philades became something that was inherited by generations upon generations of emperors, but not all of them were committed to shouldering the daunting burden.
Leonius of Parpaldia was one of those who desires such an ambition. Under his rule, the Parpaldia Empire was at its greatest extent, claiming the majority of the southern Philades as its own.
Yet, the dragon still starved.
On May 1614 in Central Calendar, only two months after the pacification of the territories north of the country, the Parpaldia Empire declared war simultaneously on the four kingdoms Kooze, Arukh, Cannara, and Edrin. In response, the four kingdoms formed a coalition to resist the looming flames of the rising dragon, determined to steel themselves to fight what will become a hopeless war. July 1614, the last of the Cannaran territory was conquered by the advancing Parpaldian army’s full might. For the first time, the Parpaldians entered the Kingdom of Edrin with destruction in its wake. Every attempt of resistance was soon met by the merciless flames from land and sky, annihilating the small Edrinian army by the middle of August. Now, the Parpaldians attempted to invade further north with utmost cruelty.
When winter of 1614 came, however, hardships after hardships struck the Dragon of Philades. Yet the slowed-down invasion force continued north, remaining adamant in finishing its mission. Despite losing their greatest advantage, they managed to conquer Arukh by December, leaving Kooze the last one standing in the way of their victory. By this point, the Empire’s heartland became increasingly unable to support this invasion, but the capital of Kooze was already ransacked and its king fled to a mountain fortress to the north. With only a thin wall separating the cornered Kooze royal court and the Parpaldians, it seemed like they were doomed to a fate worse than death.
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April 22, 1615 Central Calendar, 07:30
Le Brias, Altaras Kingdom
“Hear ye!! Hear ye!! The Parpaldians won in the north!! The Dragon of Philades spreads its wings yet again!!”
Newspaper boys darted through the streets that morning, carrying with them a piece of news that sent ripples of unease through the bustling center of the Altaran capital’s human activity. Those who can read and are reading the headlines proclaiming Parpaldia’s triumph over the northern alliance turned pale as a ghost, while people quickly flocked around them, wanting to hear for themselves what made them look so distraught. And from there, murmurs spread like wildfire among the crowd. The ‘Dragon of Philades,’ the epithet of the one country that filled the entire island country with dread, was echoed here and there.
“I knew it was only a matter of time before it comes down to this!” exclaimed one middle-aged man after his eyes scanned through the page as if hanging on his dear life. His lamentation was echoed by a number of others.
“I hope the God of War curses those northern alliance kingdoms for being routed so easily! What in all hells were they doing!?”
An indignant merchant who had been to the Kooze Kingdom before instead vented his frustrations to the countries that were Parpaldia’s enemies in the war. Even though the other three countries that allied with Kooze were not entirely dependable, he had harbored an inkling of hope that at least Kooze can bloody the rampaging imperialist’s nose by cleverly using their geographical advantage and force the Parpaldians who were suffering from a famine to an attrition war. The truth about this supposed ‘victory’ will not come out until later, but the headlines, which use the Parpaldian government’s official statement, were unambiguously printed with the word ‘victory’ in them. Naturally, the common Altarans assumed that the four northern alliance kingdoms were utterly slaughtered by the invaders in this war.
In another corner of the square, the topic of discussion was a bit different. A well-groomed man surrounded by similarly-dressed colleagues of his exuded a more contemplative air compared to the descending despair around them. After he finished reading the headline, a man sitting on a bench beside him spoke almost immediately.
“…To be fair, we should have seen this coming. Parpaldia’s strength is unmatched on the continent. Domestic crisis or not… they will overwhelm the weaker northern alliance eventually.”
“But shouldn’t they stop and try to fix their internal unrest first?”
“Hah! I don’t think so, my brother. They might just kill every dissenter they can find and be done with it. We’re talking about Parpaldians, after all.”
“That’s true… but now that they’ve conquered the northern alliance, what will be their next target? It can be anyone, even us!”
Chimes of agreement sprouted one after another at his words. However, a hopeful voice interjected.
“Then it will be very idiotic of them to do so! Let us not forget the Holy Empire’s increasing presence in the past seven months. Don’t you know that they are the ones the Parpaldians feared the most? Look around you, there’s already that many of them over here!”
“He’s kind of right…” and other grunts of affirmation sounded at this man’s exclamation.
“Bah, I hope they are really that stupid,” another man spat contemptuously. “I’d pay to see Milishians and Parpaldians destroying each other—”
“Shush! You’re being too loud!” the well-groomed man who had led the huddle warned him with a stern look.
“Hah? What is it?”
“Uh, that…”
As the group’s discussion became too loud for the well-groomed man’s liking, he immediately quieted them down and subtly gestured to a direction near one of the food stalls at the square. There, they can see a young and tall black-haired foreigner who was eating at a street food stall, staring back at them with an unimpressed look the moment one of them began making too much noise. The young man’s attire, a collared tunic suit in a certain shade of dark blue with four symmetrically placed pockets and golden cuffs, unmistakably belonged to the Holy Milishial Empire’s diplomatic corps. Seeing him, they nervously shuffled away and lowered their voices to hushed whispers before continuing.
The stare of the young Milishian man’s lavender irises lingered on the huddle for a while before shifting his attention back to his almost-finished meal with an almost inaudible scoff.
“Imbeciles…”
He had heard only bits and pieces of what the huddle nearby was discussing, but Gabriel Flyheight, the young Milishian sitting at the stall, also had a copy of the local Altaran newspaper with him, rolled and casually tucked into his trousers. Being a member of the Milishian Embassy in Altaras, Gabriel was able to read the musnad, the abjad used in this country, and couldn’t help but be amused at the displayed headline. The oh-so-scary moniker ‘Dragon of Philades’ obviously refers to a land dragon, which will never grow wings let alone fly. It was a beast destined to stay on the ground.
Parpaldia’s wars of conquest are just a glorified bandit raid. When moving through friendly territories, they harassed their own peasants who will starve in the winter and die, thus can’t pay taxes. They also display a tendency to depopulate the enemy territories when their intention is to seize their land, leaving nobody living there to raise crops and pay taxes after they’re done with the conquest. Sometimes Gabriel wondered what is even the point. To have fun?
In addition, it turns out that people also don’t really like being colonized, so rebellion after rebellion broke up within their territory. What an ideal state the Parpaldia Empire has become. Ideal for degenerates, that is.
As for the prospect of a Parpaldian invasion of Altaras, where the Holy Empire’s presence was steadily growing, Gabriel was more or less inclined with the view that it was the pinnacle of retardation. With such confidence in mind, he never showed a sign of concern and continued his new routine of visiting the Altaran Foreign Ministry and teaching the staff there the way of the magical typewriter. However, not without stopping by a stall on the square and treating himself to a large-sized spicy goat murtabak that had caught his palate today.
This island is full of hidden gems, as the initially-skeptical Gabriel found out after being pushed around by his boss so often in a way that he has to venture out and visit these barbarian establishments. With an impressed tone, Gabriel muttered to himself, “Phew… No wonder My Lord ended up charming a local lass and fathered Young Master Irmiya. His father back at home must have been frothing at the mouth upon hearing his rebellious son’s greatest escapade yet.”
Gabriel’s fork stabbed on the last piece still on the plate. The threat of the so-called Dragon of Philades did not linger in his mind for long. And while he was more concerned about his daily life on the island, the news that shook the Eastern World found its way to the Central World’s shores in one way or another.
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Same day, 20:15 Local Time
Albion Palace, Runepolis, Holy Milishial Empire
A spring drizzle washed over the capital of the Holy Milishial Empire that night like a gentle caress from the heavens, shrouding the brightly lit metropolis in a soft, shimmering veil. Under the pitter-patter of the rain, the ever-lively city seemed to slow down a bit as its inhabitants sought shelter in the shade. Such a weather condition, however, was a distant concern for one particular room within the Albion Palace, where Emperor Milishial VIII had convened the Council of Imperial Ministers after receiving an update on the situation in the Eastern World. The rather simply dressed Emperor sat at the head of a long table, flanked by the distinguished individuals that formed the pinnacle of Milishian bureaucracy, and gave his attention to the findings presented by the Director of the Imperial Intelligence Bureau. And when the presentation was over, the Emperor rested his elbows on the table and crossed his fingers in silent contemplation.
“Tell me what to make of this,” he commanded with a deep voice that echoed throughout the room. The sheer presence of the Emperor caused all present to straighten their backs unconsciously.
The Minister of Military Affairs, Ignis Schmill Pao, raised his hand and spoke first. “Your Majesty! After all, there is nothing to worry about! Based on our understanding, it is safe to say that even with this result, the Parpaldia Empire is still far from being a real threat to us in terms of power. While their ability to rapidly expand is indeed noteworthy, the same cannot be said for their management of territories. Their poor excuse of an effort to suppress dissent and maintain control over the territories they have acquired is straining their resources. If I were the Parpaldian Emperor, I would set my focus on consolidating my gains before even thinking of launching further conquests. Especially with the widespread food crisis that they are currently experiencing.”
The Emperor gave the other elf a sideways glance. “Oh. Is that it? Anything else?”
However foolish the Parpaldians would have been if they had sized up the nearby Altaras for conquest, where the Holy Empire was aggressively investing all over the island, it would be twice the folly if the Holy Empire itself had not taken into account the possibility of Parpaldia embarking on such a remarkably foolish thing. With this in mind, after the Emperor’s urging, Ignis cleared his throat and hurriedly continued.
“Well… that being said, we should also be on the lookout for their desire to expand southward. Should they decide to set their sights on Altaras, I understand that it could hinder the Holy Empire’s long-term plan for a bloodless economic expansion throughout the Third Civilization Area. Therefore, Parpaldia’s encroachment on our interests is undesirable, and we should devise countermeasures at this meeting… If you wish, Your Majesty, we can consider an armed presence in Altaras to deter Parpaldia from ever marching south; just tell us what to do, and we will deploy immediately.”
Foreign Minister Lewis Maddock supported his statement, “I concur with Minister Ignis. Our position allows us to easily justify such a move. If the Parpaldians are aware of our strength, they are unlikely to risk direct confrontation with us.”
The majority of other ministers and high-ranking officials seemed to be on board with the idea, and the Emperor seemed to think about it for a moment.
“So I have heard your opinions, but… do you truly not understand the difference between the presence of the Holy Empire in Altaras Island and its absence?”
A faint chorus of murmurs indicating confusion could be heard, but the Emperor still wasn’t finished. “Do you think we should immediately raise our fist to tame such a fledgling beast, just because it has reared up on its hind legs? If those two countries facing the strait instead come to us and settle their grievances under our guidance, that will maintain our status as a world power above all else.”
There was silence, with the participants exchanging glances after the Emperor had given his counsel. However, the Minister of Internal Affairs, Benedict Legendorga, broke the silence with a thoughtful remark. “Pardon my impertinence, but Your Majesty, if I may dare to venture a guess, do you find that a diplomatic talk between us and them would be a better course of action?”
The Emperor sighed and gave him a small nod. Legendorga’s answer was just as he had wished.
“I understand, Your Majesty’s discernment is most admirable,” the blonde minister bowed his head.
Most of the Holy Empire’s foreign policy follows a pattern of preserving its benevolent reputation in one way or another. It was easy to threaten Parpaldia at gunpoint, of course, but Emperor Milishial VIII envisioned another way that, if done, would reinforce the Holy Milishial Empire’s dignity far and wide: the power to humble the rampaging Dragon of Philades without wasting a single bullet.
Noblesse oblige aside, it was also a more desirable path for the Holy Milishial Empire to maintain peaceful relations with the Third Civilization Area as opposed to wantonly destroying everything in a barbaric manner. Parpaldia alone is a magical technology-using civilization with a population of around 70 million, making it a lucrative consumer market for the Holy Empire’s goods and services. However, due to Parpaldia’s unholy number of internal problems borne out of its brutal imperialist nature, most vexing of which are the foreigner-assassinating rebels, the Milishian government has imposed trade restrictions on Parpaldia. Not only did Parpaldia suffer and make it them double down on their pillaging, but the Milishian business community lamented the waste of a potential source of money in a deadlock that could be taken advantage of by a sneaky outsider to steal the Holy Empire’s thunder.
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
The Ministry of Ancient Sorcerous Empire Countermeasures’ need for gracium for its Alpha Edge Project paved the way for the government to make a deal with the much smaller but more stable and peaceful Altaras Kingdom, but they still eyed the potential in the cursed land of Philades. In the end, the Holy Milishial Empire saw Altaras as a gateway for expanding its influence into the region. The strait between the continent of Philades and the island of Altaras thus becomes a confluence of ambitions. The Holy Milishial Empire desires influence, the Parpaldia Empire desperately seeks aid behind its mask of victory, and the Altaras Kingdom, which entices the most powerful empire to its land, longs for lasting independence.
It’s not that the Emperor has ruled out the option of using some of the Milishian military as a deterrent, it’s just that such an act, if done too soon, would have the effect of showing that the Holy Milishial Empire is disturbed by the Parpaldia Empire, which it is definitely not. But the Holy Milishial Empire will not try to appease Parpaldia either. Therefore, using its overwhelming superiority, the Holy Milishial Empire can set the agenda and terms of a trilateral meeting to extract concessions or agreements that best suit its interests.
Listening to the exchange, Maddock, as the one in charge of diplomacy, also found the course of action reasonable as he rubbed his chin with a small tug of the lips on his face. If the Holy Empire chose the path of diplomacy to resolve the cross-strait tensions before it could resume, men like him would be needed to get the job done, and this was where Maddock would seize the chance to shine.
‘Come to think of it, it all started with the venture to Altaras itself right…?’ His gaze then lingered on the young Director of MOASEC, Arsene Lippin. ‘Ah yes, him, the one who pushed the move…’
How is this man even here?
The answer lies in how the Council of Imperial Ministers works. Unlike the members of the Senate and the regional government offices (barring the Capital government, which is traditionally headed by the Duchy of Pendragon) who are beholden to the popular will, the ministers here serve at the Emperor’s discretion. Meaning, Lippin is here because the Emperor saw it fit for him to serve his station. No, no, no, Maddock does not want to criticize the Emperor’s decision, but given the recent hardship that he had given him with his carelessness… Maddock still personally thought of Lippin as a pathetic little shit. However, the MOASEC that he had happened to lead was such a formidable force to be reckoned with that Maddock still wondered how in the world it was possible. Maybe his subordinates have broken their backs carrying that much responsibility.
“Maddock.”
The Emperor’s voice suddenly turned to the musing Foreign Minister.
“Y-Yes!”
“Should the Holy Empire choose the path of diplomacy in this matter, who do you think should initiate the talks, us or the other side?”
After gathering his thoughts for a moment, Maddock cleared his throat and answered. “Y-Your Majesty, in my humble opinion, it would be more prudent for either Altaras or Parpaldia to initiate the attempt at negotiation.”
He looked around the room, making sure to hold each participant’s gaze for a brief moment before continuing. “I can give you several reasons. First and foremost, as the world power that we are, our attempt to initiate dialogue on such a regional issue may be perceived as a display of desperation. It could be interpreted as if we are seeking their favor or validation, which could undermine our position of strength in the eyes of both Altaras and Parpaldia. On the other hand, if either one of the other side’s countries takes the initiative and seeks our participation, it would indicate their recognition of the Holy Empire’s significance and our potential impact on the cross-strait affair. It would place us higher in a position of respect and authority.”
“Hmm,” the Emperor murmured.
“Excuse me, Minister Maddock.”
Almost all of the officials present, except the Emperor and Minister Legendorga, found themselves startled by the voice that suddenly echoed out of nowhere. When they tried to look for the source, they were surprised to see the ever-quiet Arsene Lippin raise his hand. The little shit is going to give a piece of his mind!? What would that be?
“…Yes, Director Lippin.”
The raven-haired young director took the cue to speak. “…Given Parpaldia’s aggressive stance, would it have been unlikely that they would willingly engage in diplomatic talks without feeling confident in their military strength and territorial gains? If the idea of the Holy Empire initiating diplomatic talks could be perceived as a sign of weakness on our part, then the same can apply to theirs.”
“He is right. I agree with Director Lippin.”
‘Hah—’
Maddock’s attention shifted to the one sitting directly across from him at the conference table. A brown-haired beauty in a matching formal uniform whose voice came immediately after Lippin’s had raised her hand with a haughty look. As Maddock and the others watched, the woman basked in the attention, the earlier somber mood she displayed just like the other ministers transformed into a brighter countenance. This was the Minister of Treasury, Marchioness Herodia Courtenay, a figure who had been so antagonistic to MOASEC (and the Ministry of Military Affairs). Of course, the Council of Imperial Ministers is a united front, with each member having the duty to lead the Holy Empire first and foremost by working with each other, but Maddock couldn’t help but feel a slight wariness seeing the Minister of Treasury voicing her support to the object of her scorn.
Before continuing, Courtenay brought her raised hand to brush a strand of hair from her face and turned to the Emperor with a smile that graced her red lipstick-glossed lips.
“Heh, heh… I suppose that Leonius of Parpaldia should be blamed for contracting stubbornness. He might be a rather pragmatic man, not like his immortality-obsessed father… but even he would rather die than be goaded into initiating something… degrading. So, why don’t we not waste time with them and give ‘instructions’ to the Altaras Kingdom from the start?”
Maddock scoffed inwardly. Even though the argument holds merit, there is no way Courtenay’s remark that supported Lippin’s point is a genuine agreement of the little shit’s opinion. Resisting an urge to roll his eyes, Maddock grunted. “Yes, of course, Minister Courtenay. I have no intention of denying how unreasonable those uncouth miscreants can become, but everything is different when dealing with us. It is my duty as the Foreign Minister to push our agenda to be as ideal as possible and that’s what the Foreign Ministry will do. Still, I will take your suggestion and draft the plans with that in mind.”
“Hehe, that’s more like it!”
“That is enough deliberation,” Emperor Milishial VIII interrupted, and all the participants obeyed him reverently. “Maddock. You don’t have to waste your time dealing with Parpaldia, but proceed with the arrangements regardless. The sooner a trilateral meeting can be held, the better.”
“As Your Majesty’s wish!”
After the meeting was adjourned, Maddock immediately moved to his office at the Foreign Ministry to translate the Emperor’s broad order into action, of which a proposal was produced two days later. And after more back-and-forth prior to receiving the Emperor’s approval, the very next day the ambassador to Altaras was given the order to contact the kingdom’s government and convey the Holy Empire’s will.
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May 1, 1615 Central Calendar, 15:00
Paradis Palace, Esthirant, Parpaldia Empire
Unlike his predecessors who were fond of using the throne room and gathering their ministers to convene even the most trivial of issues, Emperor Leonius found such displays of grandeur to be tiresome and preserved it for high-level meetings. Instead, he preferred the seclusion of his office room, where he would summon one or two of his subordinates and talk to them face to face. In the narrower confines of this office room, visitors would have to face the full brunt of his presence like a prey entering a lion’s cage, reinforcing the notion that they were in the presence of the man who holds this cursed land in his hand.
And the aforementioned man was currently facing back and forth, emanating an air of fury.
“Verdomme! Look at how those conniving snakes completely blindsided us! Look at how the crisis brought about by those imbeciles caused all of this!”
Sounding more like a tiger than his namesake, Leonius roared, venting all of his bottled-up frustrations. The situation in Parpaldia after the famine was far from healing, and the fact that the so-called ‘victory’ over the northern alliance was more or less a measure to prevent the empire from plunging into more crisis left a bitter taste in his mouth. The Dragon of Philades acquired the entirety of Arukh, Cannara, and Edrin, as well as pillaged the hell out of Kooze, but at the cost of almost bringing Parpaldia into ruin. For the moment, Leonius decided to have a large portion of the ‘suspended’ invasion force near the northern alliance be sent elsewhere to help maintain public order until the internal crisis caused by the famine can be alleviated. Even though these useless idiots are the reason why the Empire was starving in the first place, he will continue to use them until Leonius manages to completely eradicate the system that his foolish predecessor had allowed to fester… starting from bureaucracy, then the military, and then the colonies…
“Imbecile predecessor… imbecile bureaucracy… imbecile military… imbecile subjects… imbecile slaves…!”
Speaking of audiences, there was Leonius’ trusty advisor Ruperther as usual, along with today’s special guest: a terrified young lad who worked as a staff member of the Third Foreign Affairs Bureau and the deliverer of the diplomatic letter that had ignited the Emperor’s fuse.
After some time had passed, Ruperther opened his mouth. “Your Majesty, with all due respect, before your anger escalates into breaking something in here, let us face the future and ponder over the Altaras Kingdom’s diplomatic letter with a calm mind…”
“I AM CALM!!”
Leonius said calmly.
Seven months ago, just as the Holy Milishial Empire started investing on a large scale in the Altaras Kingdom, the Parpaldian men who became unemployed in the wake of the deteriorating economic situation were attracted by the Holy Empire’s incredibly lucrative job recruitment and began to migrate in thousands. In Leonius’ mind, it was better to have them do so than continue toiling on the mainland and became the seeds of another troublesome rebellion. Supported by the Emperor himself, these workers received hefty sums of wages (according to Parpaldian standards), took the opportunity to earn a living, and support their families back on the mainland. The influx of funds served as a temporary buffer, helping the economy stay afloat amidst the crisis. The more pragmatic side of Leonius was aware that it was necessary to seize the opportunity whenever he can, but the reliance on remittances from Altaras was not a sustainable long-term solution. Parpaldia still needed a more comprehensive and lasting solution to overcome its internal struggles and achieve genuine stability. But most of all, immediate foreign aid. This is where Leonius’ pride hurt, and he was seething.
In the midst of these challenges, news came from the Altaras Kingdom that it had expressed interest in holding negotiations to make some adjustments to the already existing agreement between the two countries. The diplomatic letter with its flowery language describes this proposal as “seeking a venue to discuss means to achieve eternal friendship and mutual prosperity.”
Bullshit.
But the problem will be pointed out by Ruperther in his next words.
“Consider that this move came with the Holy Milishial Empire’s backing, Your Majesty,” he said, glancing at another piece of paper that was also present at the Emperor’s office table. Leonius, who had stopped his pacing and was now seated at his chair, picked it up and glared at the Milishian Imperial Seal stamped on it. In addition to the nine-tailed comet, also carved on the seal surrounding it is a text in the Middle Lands script, but using a language unknown to Leonius (it was Deenmiiegashimu Shedeeuiedeeu, whose meaning was said to be along the lines of ‘Having Received the Mandate from Heaven, May the August Majesty Lead a Long and Prosperous Reign,’ nobody, not even the elven citizens, know what it’s literal meaning. Some things were just plain weird in the Three Thousand-Year Empire that is the HME).
In the known world, documents bearing this seal were said to have the power of bulldozing through the bureaucracy of each nation as a first-priority document that must reach every leader receiving it. And in rare cases, nations that were granted the Holy Empire’s boons can request a document bearing this seal to accompany their own, useful in a world where the more powerful nations can and will act against those weaker than them, even something as petty as turning away their diplomats. The Emperor of Parpaldia sneered at it, but also acknowledged its power.
“I’ve had a suspicion that the Milishians are using Altaras as a pawn, manipulating it to undermine us,” the Emperor muttered. “Do you think that this paper confirms it?”
“I am inclined that it might be the case. The timing of their support for Altaras coincides with our military campaign to the north, so this is more likely a strategic move on their part. In other words, they are using Altaras as a proxy to initiate the negotiations between us and them.”
“They are trying to exploit our current vulnerability… as if I’m going to be pushed around by those spineless Milishians…!” snarled Leonius.
The young staff from the Third Foreign Affairs Bureau, who was only here to fill in his boss who was calling in sick, was absolutely terrified, but Master Ruperther beside him stayed calm as if this is a daily occurrence. Then he heard the older man speak again with impeccable composure. “Of course, Your Majesty. But the demerits of rejecting it outright are far greater.”
“Hmm…”
After Leonius truly calmed down from his outburst, he closed his eyes and let his mind wander to the grander geopolitical landscape beyond that of the Third Civilization Area. And as he leaned back in his chair and reopened his eyes, his mouth gradually formed a devious smirk.
“Mu,” he mused aloud, drawing the attention of Ruperther and the young staff member. “Milishial’s real game is never with us, but with the number two. As long as they think Philades is a land of potential wealth and resources, they will fight for influence here too… Milishial is without any doubt the stronger of the two and has the advantage of closer distance with us, but they seem to move to contain our own expansion. However, if we can present ourselves as a potential ally, they may be more inclined to cooperate with us and contain Mu’s influence in the region. Easing—no, releasing their stranglehold on trade, even.”
Ruperther nodded, but he warned Leonius. “It still depends on the result of the negotiations, however.”
“I know. But as you said, the demerits of rejecting it are far greater. I suppose attending a talk or two wouldn’t hurt.”
The advisor nodded in understanding. “I understood, Your Majesty.”
“Very well! Let’s see what those sneaky bastards have in store for us! You boy!” Leonius clapped once before turning to the third occupant in the room. “You boy! The Parpaldia Empire is Altaras’ older brother nation. It would be unbecoming for an older brother to ignore his younger brother’s plight, isn’t it?”
The young staff member looked perplexed, unsure of how to make of the Emperor’s words, but Leonius let out a throaty chuckle in a way that sent shivers up his spine.
“I want you to draft a response to the Altaras Kingdom along those lines. Run along now!”
Having heard the tales surrounding the Emperor, the young staff member didn’t need to be told that he wanted it to be complete by tomorrow morning.
Do you want to know why the head of the Third Foreign Affairs Bureau is absent today?
Yesterday, when the Emperor summoned him, one way led to another and he walked out with his face heavily beaten up, walked less than ten steps before he collapsed and forced Ruperther to summon a healer. The letter from Altaras, which was accompanied by the seal-bearing letter from the Holy Milishial Empire, was actually the second one. The first letter, which was supposed to arrive on April 29, was lost in the Third Foreign Affairs Bureau’s bureaucracy, and when Leonius found out about it, his fists were the ones who did the talking.
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Currently Publicly Available Information
COUNCIL OF IMPERIAL MINISTERS (1)
[https://img.wattpad.com/9540119ea40d29f00d82157f4d26934715734ed9/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f646c7951446c497a435333786a413d3d2d313336353537373938382e313737343861343864396661346434663735373134383531313530382e706e67]
At the pinnacle of the Holy Milishial Empire's bureaucracy is the ten ministries. This part will cover five whose ministers (and a director) made prominent appearances this time.
Ministry of Internal Affairs: Benedict Legendorga (born 1565). The current leader of the phoenix-crested House of Legendorga, he is continuing the family tradition of becoming the Holy Empire’s Internal Affairs Ministers. Typical of rich noble families, this man takes care of his appearance well. Has one younger brother and one younger sister.
Ministry of Ancient Sorcerous Empire Countermeasures: Arsene Lippin (born 1577). Neither an aristocrat nor royalty, he is referred to as a “Director” instead of a “Minister.” He took the post after his predecessor, Bandero Capone, was impeached due to incompetence. The breakthroughs made under his leadership might be the greatest in the Holy Empire’s history yet. Time will tell. (side note: he is married, so the Nation’s Boyfriend is officially off the market).
Ministry of Military Affairs: Ignis S.P (born 1313). “S.P” stands for “Schmill Pao,” a distinguished elven noble family bearing a crest that symbolizes a brute wyvern with a swordtail, known as the holder of the Plain Blue Banner of the ancient Kingdom of Caelus’ Ten Banners during the Warring Kingdoms Period.
Ministry of Foreign Affairs: Lewis Maddock (born 1569). A lower-ranked noble within the Holy Empire. He is somewhat of an opportunist.
Ministry of Treasury: Herodia Courtenay (born 1574). The current leader of the feathered serpent-crested House of Courtenay. Very kind and easygoing. Really.