Chapter 36
Red Sands Desert, Contested Border Region
Expeditionary Camp, Expeditionary Heavy Cruiser Alberta
“Captain!”
Calder blinked and looked up from the spreadsheets and books laid out on the desk before him as the lieutenant erupted into his cabin.
“Yes, lieutenant?” he replied calmly.
“Sir, the lookout has sighted no fewer than three ship balloons coming from the northeast!”
Calder immediately pushed his chair back and stood up.
“Ah! That would probably be the first convoy. Still, better safe than sorry. Take the ship to battle stations, lieutenant, and signal the Sakura to take off and join us into battle formation. And do send a signal groundside to warn them of the approaching vessels.”
“Aye aye, sir! Take the ship to battle stations, signal the Sakura to take off and join us in formation, and signal the grounders about the approaching ships!” the lieutenant repeated, before disappearing through the door at his captain’s approving nod.
“Well, apologies for the delay, but duty calls I’m afraid,” Calder said, as he smiled crookedly at his ship’s purser, who he had been doing the numbers on their operational expenses less than a minute ago.
The purser smiled back and shook his head.
“It’s perfectly fine, sir. Besides, I need to get geared up.”
“Fair enough; dismissed.”
The purser saluted him before running out of the cabin, and Calder gave his office desk one last look before grabbing his cane and hat and heading for the door himself. Hopefully, all of this excitement would prove unnecessary, but he wasn’t taking any more chances, after the mess that had happened with the commando raids.
He smiled as the battle station alarm started sounding throughout the ship and made sure his clothes were spotless, adjusting them slightly before stepping outside. It was time to fulfill the most important duty of the captain: look calm and supremely unconcerned by their potentially approaching doom.
*****
Allya tried to keep her expression calm as she waited. It wasn’t especially easy, even for her.
The problem was that less than fifteen minutes ago, Captain Calder had managed to establish communications with the lead ship of the approaching convoy and confirmed their identity, thanks to a series of challenges and response codes provided by Elkaryos. He’d also been able to confirm that the lead ship was a warship flying the colors of the Kingdom...and had the crown pennant. Now, unlike what people thought, that didn’t mean that a member of the royal family was onboard (otherwise, it would be flying the Kingdom’s flag with the crown on it), but it did mean that a royal envoy or equivalent was onboard, which suggested all sorts of possibilities, not all of them palatable.
Allya gazed at the incoming ship once more. It looked...not bad, perhaps, but definitely diminutive compared to the Alberta or the Sakura. Then again, that was hardly surprising. It was supposed to be a regular, commercial convoy escort ship, not an expeditionary ship or an outright warship.
A few minutes later, the ship banked, and began its final approach, steadily losing altitude, and the baroness had to stop herself from cringing as it looked like it was going to crash for a second before the ship reverted its propellers and seamlessly stopped in place. Ropes were thrown over the side, and ground crews swarmed to tie the ship down to the anchoring pillars. Then, a single flight of boarding stairs deployed, and a lonely figure stepped on it.
Allya squinted. It wasn’t so much that the sun was bad—she had long since adjusted to the light levels here—but that the person seemed to be a mirror.
Or that they’re so covered in gold and jewels as to be essentially the same.
The person went down the boarding stairs, then made a beeline for the welcoming delegation, and Allya had to suppress a frown as details became more easily visible. The person heading toward them was indeed practically covered in embroidery and bullion, with jewels glittering all over his outfit. But he also had an air of purpose about him. There was no doubt in her mind that he was the royal envoy, but he also carried himself like a warrior, despite his seemingly unblemished face. The envoy briefly scanned the group in front of him before settling on Allya and Pyn, obviously recognizing their medallions of nobility.
The envoy stopped a respectful meter away from her and bowed deeply, and Allya’s eyebrows rose. It was unusual, as far as she knew, for a royal envoy to do that for any but the most influential nobles. And given the few gasps she heard, she wasn’t the only one thinking so.
“Baroness Aubétoile.” He bowed again, slightly less deeply, to Pyn. “Knight Windwrath.” He straightened up. “I am Sharez Oria, royal envoy of their majesties King Elker the Third and Queen Elais the First. I bear messages from their majesties to you and would like to ask for an audience.”
Allya graciously nodded.
“Of course. I am at the service of their majesties. Please, Envoy Oria, follow us.”
*****
“Looks like they’re getting visitors,” Emilia said, and Alexandra briefly left her dungeon view and design software to look at the screens.
“Yep. Fresh meat,” she replied, before going back to her schematics.
She was currently trying to make some sort of elevator. She’d decided hours ago that the teleporters were simply too complicated to be available fast enough, and thus had switched to an elevator. The safeguards to prevent adventurers from hijacking it and skipping floors would have to be thorough, but she was confident she would be able to make suitably discouraging security systems.
She was also still processing the implications of the political briefing that Emilia had given her. It had been stunning, to say the least.
Currently, she was on the Arkan continent. She didn’t have precise numbers in terms of size, but it seemed comparable to South America back on Earth. The continent was roughly divided into three parts. In the north, the Saphire Kingdom occupied the frozen hills of Discovery to the east, and the Asarian Kingdom occupied the rest of the habitable area of the northern continent. The powers were separated by a massive mountain range called the Barrier Mountains, which was fortunate. The kingdoms hated each other’s guts, most notably because the Asarian Kingdom was technically a rebellious province of the Saphire Kingdom and had caused the collapse of the formerly continent-spanning kingdom by starting a massive civil war called the War of Shattering almost a millenia ago.
Then, separating the two halves of the continent was the Red Sands desert. That was the place she was in the middle of, apparently (although the sand wasn’t red). The entire desert was basically a giant wasteland, with a few oases that were sort of habitable. The Red Sands desert pretty much only had a single subdivision, and that was the “Lost Sands” to the west. It was called a “Death Zone,” and apparently, ancient automatons from the Great Night still walked around there, destroying all intruders. Which, all on its own had terrifying implications.
Finally, the southern part of the continent was home to four nations, and it was pretty much one hell of a clusterfuck. For starters, the Elkis Republic, the dominating power of the area, had been busy in the last few centuries peacefully integrating, and then aggressively conquering everyone around it. The result was that it encompassed most of the continent’s southern habitable lands...and all of the remaining independent nations despised them.
Two of those nations were the Far Reach, which was some form of clan-based confederacy living in the mountains of the same name to the southwest, and the Tark Hegemony. Now that nation was interesting, as it was essentially one giant city-state with a handful of satellite territories on the southeastern tip of the continent, isolated from the rest of it by a mountain chain called the Protector Mountains. And according to Emilia, it was by far the most technologically advanced nation of the continent, and the only reason it had survived the Republic’s onslaught when it had inevitably come for them was because of its technological superiority. They’d also managed not only to beat back the Republic but to take territory from it, annexing a substantial number of towns on the other side of the Protector Mountains, apparently both to feed their capital and serve as a buffer zone. She’d earmarked that nation for later and added finding and contacting their representatives to her TO-DO list, as she was sure they would prove excellent friends to have for a variety of reasons, some of which she was definitely not telling Emilia just yet.
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The last nation on the continent was the city-state of Gorromar, and that one had just...puzzled her. It was, essentially, a military junta. A functional, long-term military junta, which was just all sorts of wrong to her perception of things. Back on Earth, purely military-run governments either tended to collapse fairly quickly or simply froze in place in terms of innovation, and retreated into near-total isolation. Well, she guessed the Japanese Empire had done it, more or less, but still. Apparently, however, Gorromar had done it, and although the city-state (whose “city” would have made Belgium look small) was pretty isolationist, it was also steadily churning forward in terms of innovation and industrial power, which was just fascinating. It was also, apparently, founded by the remnants of the staff of a Planetary Defense Center of the Age of the Gods, which meant that they possessed a lot of Old World artifacts. Alexandra had earmarked them as well, but she frankly didn’t have high hopes of getting as much out of them, as unlike the Hegemony, they hadn’t been under attack from the Republic and thus weren’t under considerable pressure to find friends and allies to assist them.
Oh, and at the very south of the continent was another Death Zone called Seaside 9, although according to Emilia, that area was more home to mutated monsters than anything else, but was actually traversable, at least by sea, if you were careful enough.
Still, it was...very edifying. The most important thing, however, was that it seemed that there were significant disparities in technology levels, similar to the nineteenth century on Earth, where Europe had pretty much outpaced the rest of the world thanks to the industrial revolution, and begun using that newfound superiority to colonize, conquer, or pretty much vassalize everyone they could get at. In fact, the technological differences seemed even greater here than they had been on Earth, with the Tark Hegemony apparently using bolt action rifles and howitzers while the Republic fought with crossbows and medieval-style bronze cannons.
Central to her concerns, however, was the fact that she was apparently right in the middle of a deeply conservative, nearly obscurantist kingdom, and an extremely expansionist republic. That wasn’t good, to say the least. Especially since said obscurantist kingdom was the one controlling the surface right now, and she wasn’t exactly optimistic about their chances of winning.
Emilia giggled, and Alexandra abruptly snapped out of her thoughts.
“I suppose you could say that." Calling them fresh meat was a bit cold-blooded, especially for Alexandra, but she could tell the Earth-born was half joking. "Still, it is nice to see the dungeon town grow. There are never enough adventurers to go around. Besides, they might be carrying a communication crystal!”
Alexandra nodded.
“That’s true.” She blinked as she checked her schematics, and realized she’d already completed them while she was thinking. “Oh, and the elevator is done. Ready to test it?”
“Sure!” The vampire girl stood up. “Are you certain the safeties will be enough though?”
Alexandra looked at the oversized bouncing betty warhead in the middle of the elevator platform, safely hidden in its core, and chuckled.
“Oh, don’t worry. Even if they get in somehow, they’re unlikely to enjoy the experience.”
*****
“A frontier principality?” Allya said, failing to keep astonishment out of her voice.
“Yes, milady. Their majesties are well aware of the...delicate situation your domain is in, geographically, and in recognition of that, they are willing to make you, and your knight, rulers of a new frontier principality. You will, of course, still be subject to the royal tax, and the domain tax, but your domain will enjoy all the prerogatives of—and subject to the limitations of—a frontier principality.”
“I...am stunned by the offer. Truly I am. If you would let me convene with my knight and advisors before I give you an answer?” There was no need to mention that in this case, her only advisor was pretty much said knight, who was sitting by her side and didn’t seem to understand what all the fuss was about.
“Of course, milady, I would hardly expect anything else.” The envoy chuckled before his expression turned serious once more. “Although I must receive an answer before sundown. I trust that will be enough time?”
Allya nodded.
“It should. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She gestured at Pyn, stepped out of her office, and entered the command room, carefully closing the door flap and turning on the soundproofing enchantment behind her, before sitting down on the map table. “Well, that was unexpected.”
Pyn pulled up a chair and sat down, looking at her questioningly.
“I’m not sure I get it. I mean, why is this so important? Isn’t a frontier principality just a border territory?”
Allya sighed.
“It’s...complicated. A frontier principality isn’t just a border territory. It’s like a nation within a nation.” Allya waved her hands, struggling with explaining a concept she’d grown up with as a scion of a noble family, to someone who barely even thought of themselves as a noble to begin with. “See it like this. Nobles usually have a whole chain of vassalage. A baron usually owes fealty to a count, like we do with the Count of Darthar. Then that count owes fealty to a duke, in this case, the Duke of Sarth. Then, depending on the nation you are in, or where you are in some nations, the duke either answers directly to the crown or answers to an archduke. The Asarian Kingdom doesn’t have archdukes right now, although the title existed in the past, but it was abolished after the civil war one hundred sixty years ago. So the Duke of Sarth answers directly to the king and the queen. Still following?”
Pyn nodded, and Allya took a deep breath.
“Well, to put it simply, a frontier principality is exempt from that. The ruler of a frontier principality—technically a prince or princess, although the regular noble title is used anywhere but in official correspondence or announcing your list of titles—answers directly to the crown, period. And there’s a bunch of advantages on top of that. We aren’t subject to military levies, for one, since we’re basically assumed to be needing them too badly to spare any meaningful amount, and we’re subject to only two taxes, the crown tax on our income, and the domain tax on how much land we own. The rest, the dues to the count, the duke, or even special military taxes or others, don’t apply to us.”
Pyn whistled softly.
“That’s...That’s awesome! Why would anyone refuse this then?”
“Well...” Allya winced. “There are some limitations. First, as a frontier principality, we’re expected to basically take care of our own defense. We can call the crown for help of course, but we can’t directly ask the count or the duke for help, since we’re no longer their responsibility. And next, and what most people find the most problematic, is that we’re excluded from the council of nobles.”
“That’s...like the Confederacy parliament, right?”
“Sort of. Except that in the Asarian Kingdom, it’s also a requirement for office. In short, as long as we are a frontier principality, we can’t vote in it, and we cannot have a member of our houses be eligible for a minister post, or generalship in the Royal Host, should it be assembled for war.” She shrugged. “That might not seem like much, but any position of high office in the Kingdom wields immense power and influence, and quite frankly has a considerable amount of graft as well. In our case, however, that might turn out to be an advantage. A very big advantage.”
“How so?”
“Well, we don’t really have to worry about supplementing our revenue stream by diverting government contracts or building projects to our own lands, thanks to the dungeon that makes those avenues pretty much insignificant in comparison, and we won’t have a problem getting people to invest here without having to divert some subsidies. Sure, we won’t get a vote in the Kingdom’s laws and policies, but at the same time we won’t get tangled in the mess that is the realm’s politics either.” She shrugged. “Personally, I’d say yes. The benefits are well worth it...and quite frankly, just being able to step outside of the snake pit of noble politics, even if partially, is more than worth it for me, let alone all the tax benefits.”
Pyn nodded.
“I agree...I think. But why would their majesties propose that to us? I mean, what do they have to gain?”
Allya shrugged and gestured at the map she was partially sitting on.
“Who knows? I suspect it’s mostly a question of internal and international politics though. You have to remember that they must really want to keep us intact and prevent the Republic from gobbling us up if they can. Thus, having us drawn into the Kingdom’s politics, and probably be caught in the crossfire of the different factions vying for dominance, would most likely weaken us considerably, at least in the short term. So they’re taking that out of the equation while at the same time giving us enough of an imperative to stand on our own two legs and use all of that nice tax rebate to build a military force to defend ourselves with, instead of paying it to our own lieges.” She frowned. “Actually, that might be another reason. They’re probably trying to prevent the count or the duke from dipping into our pockets as well, for whatever reason.” She shrugged again. “We’ll probably have to find out later, but right now it doesn’t matter. Are you sure you want to accept? There’s no going back on this, at least for a while.”
Pyn nodded, a bit hesitantly at first, then more firmly.
“Yes. If that keeps us out of the sort of games that sick bastard that almost got my parents executed got up to, that’s more than worth it for me.”
“Excellent! Then come on, let’s announce it to our guest, and then get whatever else he’s come to tell us out of the way.”
Allya got up, quickly followed by Pyn, and made a beeline for the tent flap, opening it and stepping inside her office again, where the envoy was patiently waiting.
“Envoy Oria, we have decided to accept their majesties’ proposal.”
The envoy smiled.
“That is wonderful news! Then, the only thing I need is the name you desire for your domain. Ideally, it should be the same name as your capital, especially given how central it will prove to be to you early on.”
“Ah.” Allya froze. She hadn’t truly thought about it. She’d assumed they’d only get around to naming the dungeon town once they were firmly established or something.
She frowned and looked over at Pyn, who met her gaze and then had a flash of inspiration. She mouthed a single word, and Pyn looked at her steadily, before smiling and nodding. Allya turned back toward the envoy and announced gravely:
“Our domain, and our capital, shall be known as Rebirth, Envoy Oria.”