[Friday][Time Lapse: 0.06 Hours]
[Location: Military State of Godlana][Godlana~graveyard of the gods]
[City: Undisclosed]
The Military State of Godlana was renowned for having the highest number of elite soldiers, a reputation speculated to stem from its strength-based hierarchy—a system widely used on the Demon Continent. However, maintaining a functional kingdom required exceptions, creating a more flexible system that incorporated various skills from non-combatant individuals.
One example of this adaptation was Godlana’s [Economic Table], a ministry of finance responsible for overseeing the kingdom’s finances.
In an undisclosed location within the kingdom, a group of individuals sat around a table in a dimly lit room. There were nine seats in total, and away from the table, several individuals in black suits stood guard at each entrance, their sunglasses concealing the movement of their eyes as they occasionally scanned the room.
“At this rate, the price might double in the next five years,” a man’s stern voice echoed through the room, his expression serious as he flipped through the documents in front of him. He was seated in the fifth seat around the round table, and like most of the seated individuals, he wore a light blue military uniform.
Since the start of the conflict in the Kingdom of Eza, the market had seen a sharp rise in prices of various weapons, making it increasingly difficult to secure them.
“Mmh. We may want to shift our focus to securing finished products. The production costs just don’t seem worth it,” another man, seated in the third seat, interrupted, causing the others to tense as they considered the possibility.
“But wouldn’t that cost even more? The Empire’s rates, in particular, are exorbitant,” the man in the second seat interjected, silencing the room as attention shifted to the two men now conversing.
“We could approach the Dragnoks directly. Perhaps we could negotiate a two-way contract without involving the Empire,” the third seat suggested, eliciting a few curious nods as all eyes turned to the second seat, gauging his reaction.
“I wouldn’t recommend that. If it’s a long-term partnership, the Dragnoks might impose unreasonable conditions in the contract,” he cautioned, receiving some nods of agreement, though the room remained divided in the matter.
“Yes, but we’d have a steady supply of weapons for the time being. We can worry about the backlash later,” the third seat argued, sounding a bit impulsive, yet many around the table silently agreed. Still, they turned to the second seat, who stood firm in his position.
“Isn’t that counterproductive? We can’t sacrifice long-term stability for short-term gain. It’s better to take the losses now and recover gradually over time,” he said calmly. Given that their country wasn’t at war, they could afford the losses and rebuild slowly while peace prevailed.
“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea. We can’t predict future market conditions, and if we invest heavily in expensive weapons now, we’ll just keep losing money if the prices continue to rise,” the third seat retorted, drawing attention to the papers in front of them. A slow economic recovery could only happen if weapon rates improved over time, but the uncertainty of the market presented the possibility of falling further into financial ruin if they chose to rely on the market rates.
“Yes, but there’s also the chance prices could drop, and by then, we’d be stuck in a long-term contract that forces us to pay higher rates than the market price,” the second seat countered, making another strong point. If the market rate fell over time, they’d be trapped in an unfavorable contract, benefitting the Dragnoks and, by extension, the Empire.
“We can already see the numbers. If the price doesn’t double in five years, it might even triple, and by then, it’ll be too late to recover any losses we accrue over that time,” the third seat retorted, making another valid point. Just as the second seat was about to respond, the third seat continued, turning his attention elsewhere.
“Commander, what are your thoughts on the matter?” he asked, directing his gaze toward the man sitting in the first seat.
A middle aged man with short silver hair, dressed in a white military uniform that exuded an air of godly authority, sat there. His expression was soft yet serious. Slowly, he turned his blood-red eyes toward the third seat. The third seat suddenly broke into a cold sweat, his heart racing as if the Commander’s next words would determine whether or not he’d return to his family that night.
“…”
“I see. Two times…” the Commander said, his soothing voice filling the room yet amplifying the tension among the seated members, all watching him with anticipation in their eyes. His gaze fell to the table, a fleeting thought surfacing in his mind.
What are they even talking about!?
He thought, though his expression remained calm and composed.
Bang~!
The door burst open just as the Commander was about to speak, saving him from the moment’s intensity. He looked to the side.
“E-excuse me, sir! I have an important message!” A young boy in a brown uniform stood at attention, hands behind his back, his posture stiff. Seeing this, one of the men in black suits stepped closer to the Commander, eyeing the boy warily as his hand edged toward his sword.
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“Who said you could enter, boy?” the third seat barked, his face twisting in anger as if ready to strike the boy down on the spot.
“Apologies, sir, but I have a message for the Commander. It’s very important,” the boy replied, his voice steady, but he offered no further explanation, standing like a statue and addressing only the Commander. The third seat’s frown deepened.
“Then out with it, boy! We don’t have all day,” he growled, glaring at him.
“Who sent you?” the second seat asked, his curiosity piqued as his hand reached for his sword hidden beneath the table. Sensing the growing tension, the boy stammered.
“T-that’s… They said I should deliver it to the Commander only,” he finally managed to say, his voice trembling under the second seat’s piercing gaze. The second seat, visibly offended, placed his sword on the table and asked calmly,
“Do you know who you’re talking to?”
The other members remained silent, clearly taking his side.
“Call the person who sent you here and tell—” the third seat began, but abruptly stopped as the Commander raised his hand. The gesture silenced the room completely.
“…”
Without saying a word, the Commander stood, pushing back his chair. He picked up his sword, its scabbard a light blue, adorned with flowery engravings. He faced the table, eyeing each person before speaking.
“I trust that you will resolve this matter on your own,” he said calmly.
Instantly, everyone at the table rose to their feet and shouted in unison,
“Yes, sir!” bowing toward him.
He gave a brief nod and turned, walking past the boy as he muttered, “Walk with me.”
The boy, momentarily stunned by the scene, quickly regained his composure and hurried to follow the Commander as they left the room.
After walking a short distance down the hallway, a voice suddenly reached the boy.
“What is it?”
“Huh?” he blurted out, looking back at the Commander, who hadn’t opened his mouth yet. Seeing his confusion, the Commander pointed to his forehead, and the boy quickly understood.
Thought communication!?
As this realization sank in, the Commander simply nodded, prompting the boy to explain quickly.
“R-right. We’ve received word that ‘Broken Bunny’ is on the move, heading toward our southern border. Reports of that man’s movement came in at the same time, so we believe she’s trying to pass through to Elondale.”
He relayed the information in one breath, causing a small frown to crease the Commander’s face.
Aurora Dragnok. This is bad…
“Did we receive any word from the Empire?” he inquired, though the fact that this was being reported as an emergency already answered his question.
“We haven’t received anything concrete. Both the Empire and the Kingdom of Elondale are keeping quiet. They keep telling us their intelligence agencies are investigating…” the boy said, trailing off.
The Commander understood his unspoken words; the individuals in question were likely acting independently, and their kingdoms could not restrain them. To the Commander, however, this was more than a minor issue.
“I see. That’s indeed a problem. Keep trying to contact the Empire and keep me updated,” he finally instructed the boy, who gave a quick bow before rushing away.
Is Hiro finally joining the war?
The Commander thought as he turned and walked toward one of the windows in the hallway, looking outside. Snow blanketed the area surrounding the mansion; the ground and forest ahead were all white with snow, which continued to fall, providing him a strange sense of comfort. He spoke up calmly,
“En.”
“Yeah?” a voice responded immediately.
A man in a white uniform, similar to the Commander’s, stood behind him. He had golden hair, and dark marks crossed his chin and neck as if his blood had frozen. He was hardly known to the public, but those who had seen him often referred to him as the Commander’s personal bodyguard, a position that many found absurd.
How does an ant protect a mountain? they wondered.
The idea of someone that strong needing a bodyguard was one they didn’t entertain.
“Head to the border. Tell her to turn back. Kill her if you have to,” the Commander said calmly. The man tilted his head and let out a sigh.
“Sigh. Are you sure?” he replied, not sounding enthusiastic about the task. If anyone overheard this, they would question the Commander’s sanity. Now the ant is being sent to kill a mountain, they would say.
“We’re not letting special-ranked threats brazenly walk through our lands,” the Commander said, unwavering in his stance.
The reasons behind her desire to pass through their territory didn't matter to him; he would not entertain any exceptions. There were protocols to be followed when a high-level threat like her wanted to travel to another kingdom, and ignoring them was akin to declaring war on whichever kingdom the high-level threat entered without authorization. To protect his people, he didn’t care who the opponent was; the threat would simply be eliminated.
Seeing his resolute determination, the man with golden hair sighed.
"Why me, though? I don’t really want to die,” he finally admitted, voicing his concerns, but the Commander remained unyielding.
“You’ll be fine. Tell Siddy to come back; I think we might have to rely on her this time,” he instructed, earning a few nods from the man as he prepared to leave. However, before he could move, the Commander continued.
“Inform Telen to let her through the border, then contain her once she’s in the southern forests,” he said. The man thought for a moment before eventually nodding.
“Yes, sir,” he replied, casually walking away.
Since news of the event hadn’t reached the general public, allowing her through the border would prevent whispers of war from circulating among the people, which would only create anxiety and tension. At the same time, it would limit the damage and casualties that might arise from the golden-haired man making contact with the Dragon Princess.
This course of action also meant that the laws of Godlana would immediately apply to her upon crossing the border, justifying the use of force and controlling the narrative afterward, making it appear as though she had illegally slipped through and was contained thereafter.
As the Commander replayed this plan in his mind, he couldn’t help but wonder.
Should I go there personally?
Although he was confident in En’s abilities, he contemplated whether it might be better to confront her with dialogue instead.
However, there was a reason he hesitated—a piece of advice he had received a few weeks ago, even before arriving at the mansion.
‘If you move from that safe house, you’ll probably regret it.’
Did she already know this would happen? he pondered as he continued to watch the snowfall.
No…
If she did, then she would have advised the Dragon Princess to seek permission a few weeks back to avoid this entire incident.
“Argh. I hope she comes back soon,” the Commander muttered, his calm facade breaking as a weary expression crossed his face.
Having witnessed her brilliance firsthand, he trusted that woman’s judgment, not only with his life but with the lives of everyone in Godlana.
After all, she was the greatest tactician to have ever lived and the future founder of the [Strategic Table].
A tactician’s nightmare: Siddy, the Foreseer’s Prophet.
~
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(Just a rough map, just take note of the positioning of Frein/Godlana/Elondale/Eza/Demon Continent for this arc. I will include the pic whenever a demonstration is needed)
Rough map [https://i.imgur.com/Yqscp7q.jpeg]