Chapter 9
8th Day, Upper Wind Month, 1 CE, 0800 Hours
“Stop with your grouchy face.”
“Muu…”
“And the Lizardman noise.”
Clara smiled to herself as Florine poked Liane in the arm. After a long night of reviewing and updating their preparations, they had departed Corelyn Harbour in a set of carriages to E-Rantel. Chief Venomscale and his entourage were in the vehicle following theirs.
“I wanted to see,” Liane pouted.
“I don’t know why you take such great pleasure in watching others react to things,” Florine said. “I’m sure it will get you in trouble one of these days.”
“Geh, where’s your Noble pride?” Liane said, “We all did our little part in building up the Sorcerous Kingdom; why wouldn’t you want to see how other people react to what they see here?”
“That’s not the main thing you’re looking out for,” Florine frowned at her friend. “You just want to watch them squirm and jump at every little thing. It’s not something you can do forever.”
“Can too.”
Their carriage passed through the gates of E-Rantel and up its winding streets. At the same time the previous year, the city had been paralysed in fear of their new ruler. Now, it felt more vibrant than when it was a part of Re-Estize.
The city’s population hadn’t fully recovered to its original numbers, but it was merely a matter of time before the improved quality of life and lower cost of living led to unprecedented growth. Clara still didn’t know what the Royal Court ultimately had planned to accommodate that growth, but there were plenty of near-term options.
E-Rantel’s most obvious change would have to be the zoning of the city. At the same time, this meant that everything had to change accordingly. Clara suspected that they would start with the horribly tiny gates and the ridiculous layout of its infrastructure. If they were going to redo the roads, that meant they should also redo the water and sanitation systems. That, in turn, would lead to an evaluation of building codes and standardisation of construction for everything…
Clara sighed. The advances brought about by the advent of the Sorcerous Kingdom made any legacy infrastructure, buildings and even fortifications obsolete. When it came to anything inherited from Re-Estize, it felt that change would come in an all-or-nothing form. This invariably meant an endless cycle of committee meetings with the Royal Court which continually planned, replanned, amended and added things to everything because nothing was too good for the Sorcerer King’s capital and no expense was spared.
“Where were you going to take them first?” Clara asked.
“…are you sure you don’t want us to be there with you?” Liane asked back.
“We can’t just make Chief Venomscale wait around,” Clara told her. “I have no idea how long this meeting will take and it would be both rude and foolish to give the impression that he isn’t important anymore now that he’s delivered what we asked him for. You and Florine are responsible for ensuring that the groundwork you’ve laid with the Wyvern Rider Tribes develops in the Sorcerous Kingdom’s favour.”
“Tell us what you’re gonna say, at least.”
“I think this new information speaks for itself,” Clara replied. “His Majesty’s Royal Court isn’t staffed with blithering idiots.”
“That’s true,” Florine said, “but at the same time, what they consider an emergency may not be what you expect. The rise and fall of a nation may simply be one of many such events in the life of immortal beings.”
Ludmila and Florine were very good at figuring out other races, so Clara couldn’t deny that Florine’s line of thought might be true. If there was one thing she had come to learn since the annexation of E-Rantel, it was that other races were not Humans. While it sounded obvious enough, it was a difficult notion to even partially wrap one’s head around.
No matter what, Humans framed their thoughts in ways related to themselves. This made it all too easy to come to the wrong conclusions about how others perceived the world, what defined their values and how they would react to things. Even when one made a correct assumption about a reaction, they could be wrong at the same time since the underlying nature of another race could result in the same response for entirely different reasons.
For Clara, interracial relations was a difficult field where rational thought could hurt as much as it helped.
“Do you have any specific worries?” Clara asked.
“Something’s not quite right,” Florine answered. “But that feeling is about the ‘whole’ rather than any particular part. While the current state of the Draconic Kingdom is a surprise, I have a sense that it isn’t the last nor the biggest surprise that will come our way.”
“I hate it when she does that,” Liane muttered.
Clara could only laugh helplessly in response. The worst part about it was that Florine was probably right and they wouldn’t have a better idea of why that was until they had more information to work with, at which point they would be close to or past ‘too late’.
“We’ve made all the preparations that we reasonably can,” Clara said. “Whatever is going to happen, the four of us will be facing it together.”
Liane and Florine put on brave smiles at her words. She smiled back, wondering if they were doing it for each other or themselves.
A bunch of teenagers going into international politics. We must be crazy.
Perhaps a princess of a royal house or imperial dynasty would serve as a representative of their nation, but they were simply regular noblewomen. Minor trade negotiations were the extent of their experience, yet events had catapulted them onto the regional stage. At the same time, however, life did not conveniently wait for one to be perfectly ready.
Their carriage slowed to a stop just outside the main plaza. A footman opened the door and a wave of heat from the sunbaked pavement rolled into the cabin along with the sounds of the midmorning markets. Liane and Florine made last-minute checks over one another’s appearances.
“Do you think they’ll buy anything?” Clara asked.
“Oh, they’ll buy stuff,” Liane answered. “The question is whether the stuff that they buy will lead to them buying more stuff. The Wyvern Rider Tribes are a small market, but every trade relationship we open up gives us that much more credibility and clout.”
They all knew this, of course. Impressing the importance of an impending task was just Liane’s way of mentally preparing for an upcoming ‘battle’.
Clara leaned to look out of the door after they disembarked. Chief Venomscale and his party were already standing on the street, heads turning all about themselves as if gauging the surroundings for potential threats. They had politely turned down the selection of outfits that had been provided to them, preferring their sturdy wyvern-scale leathers. Florine turned and waved to Clara with an encouraging smile before Liane led them into the crowded plaza.
“Do we need to stop at the city manor for anything, my lady?” The footman asked.
“No,” Clara answered, “we’ll head straight to the Royal Villa. We can’t be late for a court appointment.”
She leaned back into her seat as her carriage continued on its way. Despite Clara’s assurances to her friends, even the smallest doubts had her see countless pitfalls on the path ahead of them. Chief Venomscale’s report was bad enough, but now Florine’s sense that something was broadly amiss suggested that an obscuring veil lay over everything.
But why had Florine chosen this specific point in time to bring up her concerns? Her interactions with Liane aside, Florine was generally content to only act when she felt that it mattered. Like Ludmila, Florine almost seemed spontaneous and arbitrary, but they were always on to something when they allowed their intuition to guide them.
Florine’s note about the Royal Court unsettled Clara the most. Possibly because she was on her way to meet them. If one directly asked her what her approach to dealing with a cadre of supremely powerful and hypercompetent immortal beings was, she would have no coherent answer for them. There was simply no frame of reference to use for someone who, up until a year ago, had only interacted with Humans and was a Human herself.
A Human…
If what Ludmila mentioned to them played out, they wouldn’t be Humans for much longer. Perhaps that was why Florine’s words bothered her so. By considering how various Heteromorphic beings perceived and interacted with the world, she was conducting a mental exercise on what it was like to be one of them.
Becoming something else was probably not as superficial as changing into a new dress. Some of her musings were akin to what children might think of. Wings with which one could fly or fantastic new abilities. Strength, speed and durability beyond the limits of humanity. Innate magic or curious quirks. What would it be like to have a tail? An extra set of arms or legs? What if she could lay eggs?
Beyond those whimsical thoughts, however, lurked the more disturbing realities that they might have to face. Would a transformation into some predatory race similarly transform the way she saw the people around her? If Taiya came in as she usually did to wake her from her rest, would Clara eye her from her bed and wrestle with the urge to feed on her flesh? Would she wrestle with that urge at all? Maybe she would simply devour her and think nothing of it.
As Ludmila always asserted, every being had a nature inherent to it. If changed into such a being, how would that nature affect her? Did becoming a Demon or Devil bring with it the desire to commit acts of evil? Would becoming a Dragon bring with it a Dragon’s storied pride?
Then there was the one thing common to them all: immortality. While it was probably common for people to wish for a limitless lifespan, how would one who was once a mortal ever come to terms with it?
Once or twice, she had discussed Ludmila’s Undead existence with her, half-afraid of the answers. While she kept telling herself that Ludmila was still the same person as before, Clara could tell that her childhood friend had indeed changed.
The greatest of those changes was that Ludmila was more ‘Ludmila’ than she was as a Human. One might attribute this to her experiences since the annexation and how they served as stepping stones to adulthood. Ludmila’s amplified fervour over the descent of their god probably also had something to do with it. Clara thought that something else besides that was going on, though: Ludmila was still the Ludmila she knew and loved, but, at the same time, she was somehow more.
Other changes were understandable when one considered her new reality.
Generally speaking, Ludmila did not have the physical needs of the living but still participated as one of them. She ate meals with them and drank socially…Clara supposed that the former would count as ‘eating socially’. No matter how much or little she ate or drank, however, she never gained or lost weight. Clara was fairly certain that Ludmila had stopped growing by the time that she had become Undead and her physical fitness was what one would expect of a martial Noble, so it amounted to an enviable appearance that required no maintenance.
Undead were physically tireless, so Ludmila was quickly separating from that aspect of her Human existence. She could run forever, carry a silly amount of weight forever, hold a bow drawn forever and fight forever. Both she and Lady Shalltear claimed that the Undead still experienced mental fatigue, but Ludmila’s mental fortitude had always been absurd. Taking breaks had effectively become optional. When she was left to her own devices, the closest thing to taking breaks were ‘relaxing’ activities such as training or mostly-work-related reading.
The need for rest had already been mitigated by her Ring of Sustenance while she was Human, so not sleeping at all was not that far of a leap. Like eating and drinking, sleep had become a social activity. Ludmila claimed that she did sleep on her own when there was nothing better to do, but since there was always something to do, Clara suspected that she never slept unless she was sleeping with others.
For those whose interactions with her were temporary, or those that kept a respectful – or fearful – distance from her, Ludmila was effectively Human. The rumours and opinions that surrounded her only served to reinforce her characterisation in the eyes of strangers. She was the way she was because that was how she always was and those who knew of her could vouch for that, so nothing at all about her suggested that she was no longer what she once was.
In a way, Clara supposed that Ludmila had become more like her friends, who cultivated an image for themselves and employed it as a tool for their interactions. She didn’t do it on purpose, however. A Noble’s mask usually incorporated bits of one’s true self to maintain an air of believability. Ludmila’s mask was not used to convince others of anything. Instead, it was a sample of the whole of what she was. If one removed her mask, they would find more of the same in greater quantities.
Of immortality, Ludmila shared very little. In her words, one had to be immortal to truly grasp the realities of immortality. It was like a child attempting to understand what it was like to be an adult: anything they could come up with fell far short. Their minds and bodies weren’t developed to the same point and, as a result, even their experiences were perceived differently. At the same time, a child did not suddenly become an adult one day and understand the whole of what it was.
Ludmila claimed that she was akin to a child when it came to her being a Heteromorphic being, but what she understood so far suggested that growing as one would similarly influence her perception of the world. Even she didn’t know where her journey as a Revenant would take her. What she did know was that many of the changes were not a result of conscious choice, but simply the result of her new state of being and all that it encompassed.
If Clara applied Ludmila’s case to herself, being transformed into a Heteromorph meant that she would remain Clara Corelyn, yet be subject to the realities brought on by her new state of being. Somewhere in between would lie what she would eventually become. Having so many unknowns before her made that future a frightening prospect.
Ludmila was lucky in the sense that, while she was not of the same race as her, Lady Shalltear served as a mentor to the realities of being Undead. The Sorcerer King, too, had helped Ludmila explore the changes brought about by her transformation. There were plenty of other intelligent Undead around as well, so rather than being alone amongst Humans, she had a sort of ‘community’ waiting for her when she turned into one of the Undead.
Clara could only hope that there would at least be someone of whatever type of Heteromorph she turned into to mentor her as well.
The carriage stopped in front of the Royal Villa. Clara cleared away her wandering thoughts. Attempting to make some last-minute analysis of the Royal Court and its motives would get her nowhere and possibly result in harm.
At the entrance, the familiar smile of Miss Alpha greeted her.
“Good Morning Countess Corelyn,” the Royal Maid lowered herself into a perfect curtsey.
“Good Morning, Miss Alpha,” Clara smiled in return. “It’s been a long time since we last saw one another, though I should have expected you to be the one to receive me.”
Nearly three months, to be precise. Yuri Alpha played an active role in the development of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s social welfare and public education systems, so she was someone that Clara interacted with often in her pursuit of the same goals. She was a stern, yet undeniably good and caring woman – proof that the Undead were not the arbitrarily evil beings that many thought them to be.
“The Royal Court is convening as we speak,” Miss Alpha said. “Are you prepared for your audience?”
“Yes,” Clara patted the Infinite Haversack on her hip. “Everything’s in here. I delivered a summary with my request for an audience, but knowing the Prime Minister, she is expecting a more comprehensive presentation.”
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
The Royal Maid led her into the villa, through a set of immaculate hallways to the chambers of the Royal Court. Miss Alpha glanced toward her when they reached the solid double doors and Clara nodded in return. She seated herself while the Royal Maid entered to announce her arrival.
At this point, many would nervously review what they had to come to speak about, but so many preparations and plans had been made over the past year that there was no need. Ultimately, they had a single, overarching objective: incorporate the Draconic Kingdom into the Sorcerous Kingdom’s hegemony.
In front of her, the double doors opened and Yuri Alpha appeared again.
“Countess Corelyn,” she said. “The Royal Court will see you now.”
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A magical spotlight cast its harsh glare over the wide table in the middle of the Royal Court’s chambers. Covering the length and breadth of that table was a map of the Duchy of E-Rantel. The map had changed much since the territory’s annexation nearly a year previous, and much of that change had been precipitated by a single man. That man stood to her right, wearing the jet-black armour that had become renowned across the land: Momon of Darkness…or rather, Pandora’s Actor.
“Have you any idea what this is about?” Albedo asked.
“I do not,” Pandora’s Actor answered. “But if it is Countess Corelyn, only one thing should elicit a request for an audience from her, should it not?”
“The ludicrousness of these lower life forms always leaves room for doubt,” Albedo snorted. “The administration receives ridiculous petitions with such regularity that I wonder if these natives are cursed to fill some arbitrary quota of stupidity.”
Pandora’s Actor’s deep chuckle drew a frown from Albedo.
“What’s so funny?”
“I was just thinking that if the world always worked according to one’s whims,” the Doppelganger replied, “it might be a very boring place. Variety is the spice of life, is it not? That is why our Master encourages us to seek out new experiences and learn from them.”
“I’ve had enough ‘new experiences’ to frustrate me for the next decade, thank you very much.”
“Mah, there should be no worries on our end this time. Countess Corelyn is one actor that plays her role well. Any unwelcome ‘native developments’ should be external, yes?”
That was the most likely case. In fact, all unwelcome ‘native developments’ of note had been exclusively external. Albedo worked hard to ensure that the Sorcerous Kingdom’s internal affairs were always in order.
The door at the far end of the hall opened and Yuri Alpha walked before them.
“Countess Corelyn has arrived,” she said.
“Who is in her party?” Albedo asked.
“No one, Albedo-sama,” Yuri replied. “She has come alone.”
“Bring her in.”
“Certainly.”
As Yuri departed the room, Pandora’s Actor raised a hand to his chin in a thoughtful gesture.
“What is it?” Albedo asked.
“It is uncharacteristic for Corelyn to appear alone for an appointment with the Royal Court,” Pandora’s Actor replied. “She is not one to monopolise achievements – it is usually the opposite. Representatives for all relevant interests are sure to receive their due…well, this audience did come with little warning.”
The door opened again and Yuri Alpha led the Human noblewoman before them. Countess Corelyn sported the cobalt-and-silver colours of her house, though the ‘dress’ itself was equipment from Yggdrasil: a set of low-level equipment composed of item frames fashioned from adamantite, minor data crystals and weak accessories. It was what was deemed suitable to protect assets that had been developed out of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s population and several of Shalltear’s vassals were among those who were bestowed that equipment.
Countess Corelyn’s amethyst eyes scanned the hall as she came toward them. Aside from herself, Pandora’s Actor and Yuri Alpha, Pestonya was the only other person present. The Human noblewoman stopped several metres from the table and lowered herself into a deep curtsey.
“Lady Albedo,” she said, “thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice.”
“You mentioned that new information from the southeast calls for the immediate execution of your plans.”
“Yes, my lady,” Countess Corelyn’s heels tapped over the floor as she came forward. “We have received a fresh reconnaissance report of the Draconic Kingdom’s situation.”
The Human noblewoman reached into her Infinite Haversack and started laying pages of a map over the table.
Pandora’s Actor crossed his arms as they examined the array of documents spread out over the table. Though Albedo didn’t have a Doppelganger’s ability to detect thoughts, she could already tell what was probably going through his mind. It was a conclusion that anyone created by the Supreme Beings would come to. A conclusion considered a matter of course, for all had no choice but to dance like puppets in the palm of their Master’s hand.
The stage was set.
Pandora’s Actor’s unique perspective on matters had served him well in his role as both the Dark Warrior and the Royal Treasurer. This, too, could be said to be the purposeful product of his creator’s will. Albedo worked down a twinge of jealousy. He was the NPC created by the greatest of the Supreme Beings; a distinction that others could never claim.
Was it due to this that he had obtained such spectacular success? Though flamboyant and given to bouts of dramatic flair, he was somehow humble at the same time – never holding his achievements over those of the others. Much like his creator, he downplayed his contributions, masking his superlative ability.
“Don’t you think this is more than a bit out of line with your initial assessments, Lady Corelyn?” Albedo asked.
“They are,” Countess Corelyn nodded. “Fortunately, Baroness Zahradnik possessed the presence of mind to request a reconnaissance report when she met with Countess Wagner and Baroness Gagnier in the wildlands south of the Empire.”
“A map indicative of the Beastman Kingdom’s strategy, hm,” Pandora’s Actor said.
“That was Baroness Zahradnik’s assessment, yes,” Countess Corelyn replied.
“Apologies for the interruption,” Pestonya raised a hand. “But I am afraid that I am not very good at reading maps. What does it say about their strategy? Wan.”
Albedo turned to Pestonya with a slight smile on her lips.
“The citizens of the Draconic Kingdom are being integrated into their neighbour’s economy,” Albedo told her. “As agricultural products.”
The Head Maid’s mouth worked silently in shock. Several moments passed before she finally gained the presence of mind to bring a gloved hand up to cover it.
“This…this is terrible!” She said, “We need to help them right away, wan!”
“How long has it taken for them to reach this state?” Pandora’s Actor asked.
“We’re not certain, Mister Momon,” the Human replied. “Our most recent information is from over a year ago – before the Battle of Katze Plains. No Merchants or Envoys have arrived with news of the Draconic Kingdom’s plight, to our knowledge.”
Meaning that she knew even less than they. Not that they knew very much more.
Since they had been instructed to maintain their distance from the Slane Theocracy, Nazarick’s knowledge of the Draconic Kingdom – which was a mere fifty kilometres across the northern end of an inland sea from the Slane Theocracy – was limited to what they could collect indirectly.
They were situated beside a large country of Beastman-type Demihumans, which was said to be one of the stronger countries on the continent. The Draconic Kingdom, which was populated by weak Humans, became a convenient hunting ground as a result. Raids were frequent and large-scale raids that could overrun entire cities were not unheard of. Eventually, those raids were turned away by a combination of Adventurers and foreign military aid.
This had been the state of affairs for as long as anyone could remember, so Albedo filed it away as a ‘setting’ of sorts. Matters closer to home demanded their attention. Since their position was supposedly in the northwestern corner of a huge continent, it was best to focus on lands to the north and west first.
Unfortunately, the people of this world had the gall to act on their own instead of waiting for their turn at the chopping block. Fortunately, their Supreme Overlord in his infinite wisdom had foreseen this and prepared all of the necessary pieces well in advance.
Countess Corelyn planned to enact a permanent solution to the Beastman problem, which would also secure an ally to the southeast that would act as a buffer state. That ally would also be the staging ground for further ventures that would project the Sorcerous Kingdom’s economic and political influence further abroad. Rather than recklessly rush into things, the Human noblewoman had put together a comprehensive plan, which included advancements in logistics that would give the Sorcerous Kingdom an undeniable edge in any economic arena.
Once her preparations were complete, they would wait for news of the next Beastman incursion. The Draconic Kingdom usually sent envoys to the Baharuth Empire every time it happened. When it did, the Sorcerous Kingdom would intervene. The Countess even suggested that the Empire could send help alongside them to create a sense of solidarity with their new suzerain and further improve the harmonious image of the Sorcerous Kingdom.
Little did they know that news would not arrive at all…or did they?
“Lady Corelyn,” Albedo said. “I believe you have forged some ties in the Baharuth Empire. Did you speak with them about the Draconic Kingdom? In particular, the last time they received an envoy?”
“I did, my lady,” the Countess nodded. “The last time the Empire received an envoy from the Draconic Kingdom was before the Battle of Katze Plains. Events surrounding the rise of the Sorcerous Kingdom demanded their complete attention so they turned the envoy away…”
The young noblewoman’s amethyst eyes widened.
“Are you suggesting that this invasion has been going on for over fourteen months?”
Corelyn was smart enough to understand that her question needed no reply.
A failure in communication? A blind spot? An oversight? No, it can’t be considered any of that…
For the Baharuth Empire, the plight of the Draconic Kingdom was insignificant compared to the Empire’s immediate matters. They were not a client state of the Sorcerous Kingdom at the time, so the Empire saw no need to report that an envoy had come. In the end, the desperate plea of a nation under siege had been buried and forgotten.
Albedo shook her head. Not out of sympathy, but disdain. The circulation of information in their region of the world was laughably poor.
Perhaps the foremost example was that of the Dwarf Kingdom in the Azerlisia Mountains: despite centuries of decline and open trade with the Empire the entire time, they couldn’t secure support from a nation with its closest major city a mere thirty kilometres away from their valley farms. Never mind securing support, they never even told anyone what was going on.
It was as if the entire world suffered from terminal levels of mass incompetence in the field of communications. Maybe some sort of strange environmental effect was influencing them. She would have to keep an eye on that.
“Is a war lasting over a year in this region of the world an extraordinary thing?” Pandora’s Actor asked.
“Yes, Mister Momon,” Countess Corelyn answered. “Even for a country with a professional army like the Baharuth Empire, a war that lasts beyond a season would cause the nation’s economy to buckle and collapse. Furthermore, protracted warfare is actively avoided due to the risk of creating negative energy wastelands or adding too much to existing ones. There are usually one to three decisive battles in a war before diplomacy is pursued. As far as I know, only the Slane Theocracy is capable of sustaining a war of the scale represented by this report. The Sorcerous Kingdom as well, though I doubt we would ever need to.”
“I see,” Pandora’s Actor replied. “In this case, we can only make the best of what we are presented with. At the risk of sounding callous, the Draconic Kingdom’s unprecedented circumstances offer the Sorcerous Kingdom an unprecedented opportunity. Beware those who may level those accusations at you while you’re there.”
“Creating connections and cultivating goodwill is our objective,” Countess Corelyn replied with a nod, “so that much is a matter of course.”
Cultivating political goodwill while diminishing the Slane Theocracy’s shadow over regional politics. The creation of a lucrative trade route to untapped markets, which would eventually reverse the plummeting price of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s commodity exports. A new customer for their Undead security forces, a buffer for their southeastern border and a bridgehead to the world beyond.
By Human standards, Countess Corelyn would be recognised as an overwhelmingly ‘good’ individual. Enough to draw comparisons to Heteromorphs like Angels. Beyond that, she was not stupid.
Early in the Duchy of E-Rantel’s reorganisation as the central territory of the Sorcerous Kingdom, Albedo had identified the young noblewoman as a useful tool for the future. She was intelligent, industrious and charismatic – perfect for swaying local sentiment in the new administration’s favour. Little did Albedo know how right she would be…or perhaps she had only grasped a small part of what their Master had already identified out of the Nobles who remained to manage their lands in his name.
Albedo’s wings rustled slightly as she recalled the day she had confidently delivered her assessment to Momonga, thinking her findings to be of some use to him. Not only did he demonstrate that he knew what was going on but he had subtly chided Albedo for her attempt at eliminating Shalltear’s new Human vassal. Now, those four that were discussed at that time were bearing fruit far beyond Albedo’s predictions for them.
She also saw the wisdom in the Supreme One’s decision to give them to Shalltear. As the ‘Minister of Transportation’, she would need capable and loyal servants to assist her and the need for them was immediate. They also continued to help lay the groundwork for the Sorcerous Kingdom as a whole, so their transfer under Shalltear’s authority did not affect what they did for the nation.
The extent of the Countess’ ambition, however, continued to be a surprise. She was not content with her demesne and her new place in Shalltear’s court. By all appearances, she seemed entirely intent on accelerating Momonga’s plans for world domination.
“Are you still certain that you can still achieve the plan’s objectives?” Albedo asked.
“I’m reasonably certain, my lady,” Countess Corelyn answered. “Rather than success or failure, we should be considering it in degrees of success.”
It certainly did seem that way. There were problems, however. Ones that were not intrinsic to the plan itself, but in their target.
"Can the turnaround time for the Draconic Kingdom’s economy be minimised?” Albedo asked, “A quick recovery will prove a compelling demonstration for other parties. Our efforts in Human countries, particularly in Re-Estize, continue to meet with stubborn, irrational resistance.”
“That would depend on what we find there. These are already very tentative estimates. This is also an opportunity to retool the Draconic Kingdom’s industries to be in line with the Sorcerous Kingdom’s policy objectives. Aside from Undead labour, agricultural produce and goods derived from forestry are still our nation’s principal exports."
“I do not believe that a nation would so readily give up their food security,” Pandora’s Actor said.
“I agree, Mister Momon,” the Countess said, “But whether they are or aren’t willing is not an obstacle. Since we are facing a severe shortage of low-level Undead labourers anyway, they will not enjoy the low costs of food production that we do. The markets will dictate how they allocate their remaining labour to industry. Perhaps some of their administrators will remain irrationally stubborn about it but that is their loss. Most will aim to produce what our markets demand. The Sorcerous Kingdom’s economic policy will dictate the course of their industry.”
In short, despite the scope of Countess Corelyn’s ambitions, she was leaving ultimate power in the hands of the Royal Court. It was a statement that she knew her place and would happily employ her talents in service of the Sorcerer King.
Their domestic policies were already decided on until winter. Rather than undertake any disruptive changes to its industries, the duchy’s production would be left to the local leaders. By Albedo’s estimates, it would take another four or five years to stabilise at their current pace of integration. At that point, she could more decisively nudge things in whatever direction she deemed appropriate.
“That decision will have to wait until next year when we have more data to work with,” Albedo said. “Securing trade agreements and official testimonies in support of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s exports is the priority for now. The Minister of Foreign affairs will likely have something to add once I brief him.”
“What is the Sorcerous Kingdom’s decision on how far are we allowed to go in regards to technical expertise and material support?”
“Keep things at a reasonable minimum, for now,” Albedo replied. “I have found that the local Humans have an unpleasant tendency to reach for more than they deserve if they are shown even the slightest bit of generosity or favour. What we offer in the long term will depend on their cooperation and the industrial data we collect. The Sorcerous Kingdom is not a charity.”
“Of course, my lady,” Lady Corelyn nodded. “What of the Beastman Kingdom?”
“Do not exceed the limits outlined by our foreign lease agreements and our foreign policy. Demonstrate their full effectiveness against the invaders.”
A smooth interplay between Albedo and Countess Corelyn ensued as they finalised each point in the plan. She could only wish that interactions with her Human agents could be so seamless. For some stupid reason, many Humans believed they could get by on a bare minimum of familiarity with a subject and fumble their way through the rest. Sifting through it all was an onerous and infuriating affair.
Even for those with passable levels of competence, there was always something in the way. Self-interest, conflicting agendas and drastically different perspectives plagued her ongoing efforts to prepare for Re-Estize’s eventual membership as a client state of the Sorcerous Kingdom.
Learning how to utilise the mortals of this world for economic gain, however, was undoubtedly of great benefit. For the most part, their expectations and desires were laughably small-minded, but the revenues garnered from their endless pursuit of profit resulted in an ever-growing source of Yggdrasil gold coins.
Rather than conquest and destruction for short-term gains, their Master chose to establish a consistent flow of resources into Nazarick’s coffers. Every harvest that passed; every caravan that went through customs; every new industry that paid taxes; those under their influence worked to fund Nazarick’s defences, allowing them to summon more and more powerful Mercenary NPCs to combat future threats from Players and other unknown powers of a similar magnitude.
In the end, Albedo voiced her official go-ahead. After the young noblewoman departed the hall, Albedo looked back down at the map she had left with them.
“A ‘civilian mindset’, hm…”
Albedo looked up from the table.
“What was that?”
“Something I hear once in a while,” Pandora’s Actor said. “There are certain lynchpins in this plan that Countess Corelyn is not accounting for properly.”
“It appears well-rounded, to me,” Albedo replied. “I have been working with her on this for the last year, you know.”
“Perhaps I put it too harshly,” the Doppelganger admitted. “This scenario is framed in such a way that it tests what our local collaborators can do with the means that would be regularly provided to them. But there are places where even the utmost vigilance will fail them. I believe that is where we should step in, as it is an opportunity to reinforce the notion that power far greater than their own supports them in their endeavours. An extra weapon in our diplomatic arsenal, so to speak.”
“What are you proposing?” Albedo asked.
“A guarantee,” Pandora’s Actor placed his palm on top of the map. “Assuming she’s still alive, the Draconic Kingdom’s head of state needs to be secured. At the same time, she cannot leave her country. A squad of Death Knights is insufficient to protect Queen Oriculus against a probable worst-case scenario and their presence may hamper our diplomatic efforts. Additionally, losing her while she is under our protection will be a crippling blow to the Sorcerous Kingdom’s prestige. One of us should go.”
It was true that Albedo was the best tank out of Nazarick’s NPCs, but it would hardly do for her to leave her post as Prime Minister. She could imagine all the absurdities that would conveniently crop up while she was away.
“You mean to go as Momon, then?”
“No,” Pandora’s Actor chuckled. “Our goal is to have Momon’s fame gradually diminish relative to the Sorcerer King’s so it would hardly do to build it up even further. We already have a fine gentleman who is a perfect fit for the job.”