Accountant Isekai

King Eduard the Defenestrator's jaw dropped to the floor. He ran his hands through his hair, slicking it back to keep his dignified appearance.

"Is this true? This had better not be part of some scheme," he said.

Duke Armand stood in the center of the great hall. His wife, Dutchess Fleur, stood next to him. Her doll joints were visible to everyone. King Eduard and Queen Eleanor were on their thrones. Nobles filled the sides of the room.

"It is a scheme of mine that discovered this," Duke Armand stated.

"It's hard to believe. After all this time, we found the Lost Treasure of Captain Omen," the king said.

"I thought it didn't exist," Queen Eleanor stated.

"This is great news. With that treasure, we can pay off all our war debts. Then, I can use the rest of the money to build bridges, new roads, a grand church, hire more adventurers to kill monsters, and go on other projects," King Eduard smiled.

"My scouts report that the stories of the treasure downplayed how much gold there was," Duke Armand said.

"Give me the rest of the details," the king replied.

Dutchess Fleur quickly brought over a board with a map on it.

"We found Lost Treasure of Captain Omen here," Duke Armand placed a pen on the map. "And we believe the mountain it's under is filled with gold."

He made a half circle to outline the bottom of the mountain.

"The problem is that the treasure is on disputed territory. The Kingdom of Vandalland has a claim on land from here to here."

Armand drew a line over the territory.

"At the end of it is a river filled with Vandalland forts. It won't be long before they learn about the treasure too," the duke said.

He drew another half circle, larger this time, to show the river's flow. Giggles broke out among the nobles in the room. Dutchess Fleur chuckled.

"Duke Armand, do you realize that you accidentally drew a dick in my father's court?" Prince Jeremy glared.

"I didn't realize it was an accident," Duke Armand said.

The king struggled to hold in his laughter.

"If the treasure is where you say it is, I'm making you my jester," King Eduard promised.

"I would be honored to be your jester, your Majesty."

"Jeremy," the king said. "Stay in the palace. I'll need someone managing things while I'm gone."

He stood up and strode to the map.

"Normally, I go to war with people who are weaker than I am. I would still prefer to not go to war with Vandalland. However, this treasure could bring great prosperity to Greenrivers. I must claim it. Even if Vandalland never finds out about the treasure, moving into disputed territory will no doubt provoke a military response."

"What will you do, your Majesty?" a baron asked.

"I will gather an army and claim the treasure with it. Queen Eleanor will accompany me. We'll also need to be fast. Marshal Redfort, how many men can I raise in the next week?" King Eduard said.

A tall noble with red hair and brown eyes stepped out of the crowd. Decorated plate armor adorned his body.

"150 knights, 300 men at arms, 2,000 footmen, and 1,000 crossbowmen. This doesn't count mercenaries," he said.

"We'll hire mercenaries. Which group would you recommend?" King Eduard asked.

"The Teal Company. They're the only mercenary group in the area that doesn't specialize in killing monsters," Marshal Redfort answered.

"I'll send a message to their leader. Bolster our defenses and gather more men in the meantime. Once we gain a foothold around the treasure, we'll need more numbers to defend it," King Eduard said.

"Yes, your Majesty."

Queen Hildoara's head was in her hands. Duke Carini looked at her with sympathetic eyes. The two were in her castle's solar. Hildoara sat at a table. A massive pile of letters was in front of her.

"I've just started being queen, and our finances are in shambles," she sighed.

"Yes. Your father's searches for your Prince Wisimir were quite the drain on the treasury," Duke Carini stated.

"That's not the worst of it! We have war debts from wars my father fought that he never paid off. There's also the money we owe to the church. Why do we even owe money to them anyway?"

"I have no idea. Unfortunately, there aren't many people we can ask about this."

"Yes," Hildoara clenched her fists in anger.

She remembered how her father had his steward brutally executed. This was because his steward suggested that he spend less money on his mistresses.

"And that's another debt. My father was a simp for every woman he fucked except mother," Hildoara spat.

Footsteps echoed up the castle stairs. Hildoara and Carini turned to see Prince Wisimir enter the solar.

"How's my sister doing?" he asked. "I have some news for you."

"Not well," Hildoara said.

Her face softened upon seeing her brother.

"Maybe you could help us? We owe a lot of money," she stated.

"How much?" Wisimir asked.

"We think it's about this much. Father's records are too horrible to be certain," Hildoara said.

She handed him a piece of paper.

"That's a lot of zeroes," Wisimir said.

"Far too many," Hildoara sighed.

"I believe our first step is hiring a new steward," Duke Carini suggested.

"I agree. How long do you think it'll take for us to find someone?"

"Finding someone isn't the biggest issue. We'll need multiple people so we can get the best possible steward."

"You can do that later. I think what I came here to tell you will help," Wisimir said.

"What is it?" Hildoara asked.

"We found the Lost Treasure of Captain Omen," he answered.

Shock overcame Hildoara and Carini.

"How can this be? That should just be an old legend," the duke said.

"It's no legend. I got a report from some of our scouts that they spotted Greenrivers men in the disputed territory. They searched the area the Greenrivers men were in and found the treasure," Wisimir explained.

"That's amazing!" Hildoara lovingly hugged her brother. "We'll get the treasure and pay off all our debts!"

"I'd be more careful about this, your Majesty. If there are Greenrivers men there, King Eduard the Defenestrator will find out about the treasure sooner or later," Duke Carini said.

"Knowing him, he'll come with an army," Hildoara stated.

She released her brother from the hug.

"If he tries to hurt you, I'll kill him," Wisimir said.

"No. I need you to stay here. I need someone I can trust in the capital," Hildoara replied.

"I presume I'll accompany you to battle, your Majesty?" Duke Carini asked.

"You're a better spellcaster than my brother and I put together. We need your magic. We'll also need an army."

She started shuffling through records.

"How long do you think it'll take King Eduard to raise an army?" Hildoara said.

"He'll be in a hurry, so I estimate he'll have one put together in a week. It won't have many supplies, but it could fortify around the treasure," Duke Carini stated.

"We'll need to be fast too. I don't think we can afford a siege. How many men can we raise in a week?"

"Our knights are scattered, hunting various monsters. We'll only be able to raise 80 of them and 100 men at arms. However, many of the men we raised because we thought there would be a succession war are still ready to fight. We can raise 3,500 footmen, 500 archers, and 1,000 crossbowmen."

"I'm not wasting time. I'll start preparing our forces right away," Hildoara said.

Voivode Dalv Sepet of Weltai sat on his horse, deep in thought. Trish was next to him on her horse. A falcon with blue-gray plumage on its upside and white plumage with some brown feathers on its lower side rested on her arm. She gazed at Dalv intently. A smile crossed his face.

"So, it's finally happening," he said.

"What is?" she asked.

"His 8-year plan. It's long, overly complicated, relies on multiple coincidences to work, and he could have probably done something much easier that would have the same effect," Dalv answered.

"That doesn't sound like a plan he'd make," Trish said.

"Well, he got that Greenrivers lunatic to help him make that plan. He said we needed a scheming expert."

"Oh, you mean that plan," she said.

"Yes," Dalv replied.

"I don't think it's anywhere near as convoluted as you think it is," Trish stated.

"Perhaps, perhaps not, but he is one of the few beings that could make a plan like that work."

"Which stage of his plan are we at?"

"King Eduard the Defenestrator of Greenrivers and Queen Hildoara of Vandalland both know where the Lost Treasure of Captain Omen is. They'll have their armies raised in a week. Their men will get there about five days after," Dalv said.

"And you'll bring 50 knights to the site of the treasure. Small numbers to move fast and not use up supplies," Trish nodded.

"Yes. Dʰéǵʰom will inform Saint Gustav von Blitzburg of the coming war when he finds out about it. Then, everything will come together."

He smiled wide.

"I'm so relieved that Hildoara succeeded at overthrowing her father. He deserved it, and the plan wouldn't have worked if that monster was in charge," Dalv said.

Dalv held out his arm. His falcon returned to it, carrying a bat in its claws.

"A bat out at day. How unusual," he mused.

The bat flapped, twisting in the falcon's grip. It managed to free itself and fly away.

"That's a good omen," Trish stated.

"Yes, very good. After all..." Dalv chuckled, revealing fanged teeth. "We vampires have a deep connection to bats."

He started riding his horse back. Trish followed him.

"Now, as long as nothing stupid happens, this plan will go perfectly," Dalv said.

Heavy metal music blared across a canyon. It was so loud that it could drown out airplane engines. At the bottom of the ravine was a large stage. Several muscular green humanoids were on it with magical musical instruments. There was a massive crowd of similar creatures in front of them.

One of them had a literal axe guitar.

"Who's the strongest orc of them all?" he sang. "Who makes his enemies ummm...fall rhymes with all, right?"

Somehow, he was even louder than his instrument.

"Who is the orc with eleven wives? Who owns the biggest collection of broken knives?" the bass player sang.

The musicians sang at once with incredible energy.

"Who is the leader we all adore? Who keeps fighting and coming back for more?"

The crowd joined in on the singing.

"Doomhell! Doomhelll! Doomhell! Doomhell!"

A massive platform was carried above the crowd. It was made of several dead elephant-sized monsters stitched together. Spears, axes, swords, and all manner of other weapons stuck out of the bodies.

"Doomhell! Doomhelll! Doomhell! Doomhell!"

Eleven orc women were lying on the monsters. Two of them were at the very top, leaning on the arms of a throne made of solid rock. Every single one of these women looked overjoyed.

"Doomhell! Doomhelll! Doomhell! Doomhell!"

A massive orc man sat on the throne. He was eight feet tall with athletic muscles, a fanged mouth, and an 18-pack of abs. The orc stood up and raised his arms into the air.

"Doomhell! Doomhelll! Doomhell! Doomhell!"

The orc slid down the platform of monster corpses. He jumped from them onto the stage. His arms grasped the guitar, and the orc did a wicked guitar solo. Cheers erupted from the crowd. They all shouted at once as the song ended.

"All hail King Doomhell!"

"Thank you everyone for coming here today!" Doomhell said. "Of course, if you didn't come here, I'd have killed you!"

Laughter erupted from the crowd. This was not the sort of laughter people who fear a tyrant would make to appease him. It was genuine laughter.

"Let me tell you something: humans think orcs are muscleheads. They think orcs are violent. They think orcs have no place in civilized society. They think orcs should all go to hell," Doomhell stated.

He went silent. The orc crowd gazed on in eager anticipation. Doomhell waited, building up the tension.

"And they're right! All that stuff is awesome!" he shouted.

The crowd erupted in joyous cheers.

"I love my muscles, I love fighting, I think civilization is for pansies, and I want to go to hell so I can fight demons!" Doomhell declared.

"Doomhell! Doomhell! Doomhell!" the crowd chanted.

"Now, let me tell you all something. The humans say they look down on us, but they're just trying to hide that they're jealous. Can any of you blame them? Can any of you say that if you were a human, you wouldn't want to be an orc?"

The crowd nodded in agreement.

"But what I can't take is orcs looking down on me. If an orc has something to say to me, he can come here and say it to my face. If I don't like it, we're fighting. And if he gives me a good fight, I might let him live. Hell, if he comes here just to fight me, I might let him live. You gotta have balls to fight me!" Doomhell said.

Every orc in the audience cheered.

"Now, which of you can guess which orc's looking down on me and why?"

An orc in the audience raised his hand.

"Durk! What's your guess?" Doomhell asked.

"King Geezer?" the orc said.

"That's right, Durk! King Geezer thinks my weapons aren't shiny enough! He thinks that shiny weapons make you fight better, but he doesn't have the balls to prove it!"

"Don't weapons stop being shiny when you put blood on them?" another ork wondered.

"You've hit it right on the head, Bullstone! That's why King Geezer doesn't want to prove that shiny weapons make you fight better! When weapons get covered in blood, they're not shiny anymore. He thinks that'll make him too weak to fight," Doomhell said.

Even by orc standards, King Geezer was a dumbass.

"Then, I got to thinking. Dwarves can make magic weapons. What if we got them to make us all weapons that are always shiny? Then, we could go right up to King Geezer, show him all our shiny weapons, and laugh in his stupid face!"

The orcs cheered.

"We just have one problem: how do we pay for these weapons?" Doomhell smiled. "Well, one of our boys found a big pile of treasure. There's more gold there than I've ever seen. And that's not the best part! Some humans want the treasure too! We'll get shiny weapons and fight an army of humans!"

"Doomhell! Doomhell! Doomhell! Doomhell!"