Accountant Isekai

A dozen boyars had gathered in a sauna deep in the woods of Weltai. Their gloomy faces were drenched with sweat.

“Tell me, Andrei,” one boyar said. “Why are we meeting in a sauna in the middle of fucking nowhere?”

“We’re meeting so we can make a plan to overthrow the Voivode,” another replied.

“I know that, Vladislav, but why here?”

“Because, Boris, meeting in a city makes the Voivode’s agents more likely to find us.”

“Why a sauna? Why not a cave or hidden fortress or something?” Boris asked.

Andrei answered, “Because I like saunas.”

“I think we’re getting off-topic,” a third boyar stated. “We need a plan to overthrow Dalv once and for all. He’s killed so many of us over the years that we’re running out of supporters. Soon enough, no one will even dare try to overthrow him.”

“Ummm, I have a question,” the youngest boyar in the room spoke up. “Why are we trying to overthrow Dalv in the first place? Is he oppressive and tyrannical to the peasants?”

“No, Leon. He treats them great. The commoners all love him and are grateful to have him as a leader. Besides, the peasants are basically worthless. When we overthrow Dalv, we'll work them to the bone,” Andrei stated.

“Then does Dalv make deals with bandits or let monsters roam free?”

Boris laughed, “Are you kidding me? Because of Dalv, there are barely any bandits here! And all the monsters left are either harmless or his undead minions. Because of him, our domain is the safest in the continent of Leathan.”

Leon said, “Then does he treat the merchants badly?”

“No. As long as they’re honest, he’ll treat them very well. In fact, the merchants love him for solving the bandit and monster problems. In most nations, merchants generally stay within a league of their hometown. But they travel much further here.”

“Is Dalv terrible to us?”

“Nope,” Andrei explained. “As long as we’re loyal, he treats us great.”

“Then why are we trying to overthrow him?” Leon asked.

“Because if we overthrow him and put one of his relatives on the throne, the new Voivode will owe us and give us more power,” Andrei said.

“Oh, okay. Thanks. I just wanted to make that clear. We can’t kill Dalv normally, so remind me how we can kill him.”

As Andrei opened his mouth, a wave of sweat poured down from his nose into his jaw. He gargled out words from his sweat-filled mouth.

Boris asked, “Should we be sweating this much?”

Andrei spat the sweat out, “I will admit that this is a bit extreme. We should tell one of the servants to turn down the heat.”

He stood up and walked to the door. It wouldn’t open.

The sauna was on fire. Its door was boarded up. Voivode Dalv Sepet looked on with a smile as his men threw more wood onto it. Several horsemen were next to him, most wearing plate armor. There was one man who wore fancy clothing instead.

“Normally, I prefer impaling traitors when I get the chance, but fire is a nice change of pace,” Dalv said as he swirled a cup of red liquid. “And I must thank you for rooting out these traitors to me, Boyar Vladislav.”

“I’m unworthy of your praise,” the noble stated.

Then he burst out laughing.

“I really am unworthy! Those dumbasses got caught because of the letter they left me!”

Vladislav held out a letter.

It read, “Boyar Vladislav, we’re sorry that we built an outdoor sauna on your lands, but we promise that we won’t use it as a secret meeting place to overthrow the Voivode. But if you’re interested in overthrowing the Voivode, come on over! With your help, we could have him killed in less than a week!”

“How is Weltai even standing with idiots like them in our government?” Dalv wondered.

“Well, we won’t have to worry about them anymore, Voivode,” Vladislav said.

The ruler drank from the cup before smiling. Even if the traitors were found because of their stupidity, Vladislav had proven his loyalty. That was the sort of thing that should be rewarded.

Dalv asked, “Your son’s a young man now, isn’t he, Vladislav?”

“Yes, Voivode.”

“Has his combat training been going well?”

“He is skilled at the use of the poleaxe, the kilij, military tactics, and necromancy,” Vladislav spoke with pride.

“Very good,” Dalv stated. “I could make use of him. Perhaps I could put him under the tutorship of one of my more experienced Viteji?”

An incredible smile crossed the boyar’s face, “I would truly be honored, Voivode! I’ll tell my son to return as soon as he can!”

“Return? Where is he?”

Vladislav explained, “He’s visiting that barbarian bodybuilding event.”

After a moment’s pause, the Voivode nodded.

Dalv said, “Let him finish his visit first. He should have some fun before his training wracks up. In fact, let's make this a surprise for when he gets back.”

“Of course, Voivode. I’m sure that’ll cheer up my son if he can’t find a wife.”

“Yes, of…”

Dalv’s composure faded, and his eyes widened in shock.

“Can’t find a what?” he asked.

“A wife,” Vladislav explained. “That’s why he went to the barbarian lands.”

Dalv’s jaw dropped to the ground. His mind blurred. There was one and only one question on his mind.

“Why?”

Vladislav stated, “My son likes muscular women.”

“WHY?!?”

After the death of King Albiunus, Princess Hildoara expected to face a years-long civil war for control of Vandalland. Instead, her side won in a week. She was supporting her brother while the other potential heirs were all women. Most of the nobles joined her for that reason, and all the nobles joined Hildoara after the dragons sided with her.

With the war won, all that was left was to crown her brother.

The stage was set for her brother’s coronation. Hildoara stood at the end of the great hall of the last king’s castle with a bishop next to her. Numerous nobles in their finest clothes stood on the sides of the hall. Soldiers in the most decorated suits of plate armor stood on guard duty. Servants rolled out a massive red carpet.

A young man entered the room. He was shorter than Hildoara, but he had the same red hair. His muscles were less developed, both from his younger age and years of living in hiding. There was a look of pride on his face as he walked over to Hildoara and the bishop.

“It’s good to finally meet you, Princess Hildoara,” he said.

She replied, “Please, call me Hilda. I'm your sister, and we met a lot before, Wisimar.”

“Yes, but I was too young to remember. My oldest memories are of people telling me how amazing you are, how you’re fighting to keep me safe from our father, about how you’re the greatest woman in Vandalland. I now see that they were downplaying you.”

Hildoara suppressed a blush, “Please, Wisimar, you’ll embarrass me.”

“But you really are amazing.”

“We can talk about that later,” she stated. “Today is your big day. You’re going to become King of Vandalland.”

Wisimar shook his head, “No, I’m not.”

Gasps of shock erupted from the nobles.

“W-What do you mean by that?” Hildoara asked.

“I don’t know anything about being king while you’ve won a war in a week,” Wisimar answered. “You should be queen.”

Several nobles fainted.

Hildoara said, “I didn’t really win the war. The nobles joined your cause. I just happened to be leading it.”

“And now, I’m joining your cause,” Wisimar stated.

“There’s no need for that. You should be king. If you’re worried about inexperience, there’s plenty of time for you to train. I can act as regent until you’re ready.”

“Why act as regent when you can be queen?”

“Please, there’s no need to be polite or try to appease me,” Hildoara begged. “Just accept your crown. The bishop’s right here to coronate you.”

“I’m not worthy of being king. I’m just a coward who hid,” Wisimar then raised his voice. “I am a weak man. Men have no excuses for being weak. My sister, on the other hand, is a strong woman. She has achieved beyond what most women ever could dream of. Tell me, nobles of Vandalland, who would you rather have as a ruler: a weak man or a strong woman? No, a weak man or the strongest woman in the history of Vandalland?”

One of the nobles who passed out de-fainted and got right back up, “He has a point.”

The prince smiled, “There you have it, sister, you are the queen.”

“Well, as your queen, I’m ordering you to be king and, I'm stepping down from the throne,” Hildoara smirked.

“Then as your king, I’m ordering you to be queen, and I'm stepping down from the throne,” Wisimar said. “And kings outrank queens, so my order supersedes yours.”

A few hours after the coronation…

“Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!” Hildoara bashed her hand against a table in her solar. “Why did Wisimar have to make me queen?”

“Prince Wisimar was quite generous in giving you the throne,” the man with a swirly mustache said. “Most people in your position would want to be the new ruler of Vandalland, Your Majesty.”

“Well, I don’t!”

“Why not?”

Hildoara groaned, “Not everyone wants power, Duke Carini. I don’t, and it’s clear to me now that my brother doesn’t either.”

“Well, at least you’ve proven that you should be the ruler of Vandalland,” the nobleman stated.

“You know why we won the civil war so soon. It had nothing to do with me,” she countered.

Duke Carini said, “The succession crisis has nothing to do with why you should be queen. Your father was power-hungry, and it turned him into a monster who murdered his own sons. The boyars of Weltai are power-hungry, and they’re on a fruitless attempt to overthrow the best monarch in our continent. The nobles of Motteburh are power-hungry, and the peasants there suffer under the worst yolk of oppression that I can think of. I think we’ve had enough of power-hungry leaders.”

Hildoara nodded with grimness, “Yes. The lust for power can build up over the years if not tempered. But my nobles will probably try to take advantage of me because I’m a woman.”

A blush crossed her face.

“I didn’t mean like that! I meant that they’ll try to force me to give them power they don’t deserve!”

“Well, they might try to do that too,” Carini shrugged.

“I can't do this on my own or even with just you. I need some help. Based on the last letter I got from Saint Gustav, he’s still busy. Maybe I can ask King Eduard for advice on how to handle nobles?” Hildoara wondered.

“Dear fuck no! I don’t mean to criticize you, Your Majesty, but that’s a terrible idea!”

“Are you worried that he’ll try to invade us?”

Carini said, “He won’t do that. King Eduard’s a genius. He only invades weak people that he has no chance of losing to. He also isn’t the sort of man to underestimate you because you’re a woman. He’ll probably just purposefully give you bad advice. He’s hated us ever since your father pissed in his cornflakes.”

Hildoara sighed, “They were such well-made cornflakes too.”

In the royal citadel of the Kingdom of Greenrivers, King Eduard the Defenestrater, Queen Eleanor, and Prince Jeremy had gathered in a meeting room. It would be some time before court would start, and they had a matter to attend to.

Eduard said, “There was a recent coup in Vandalland. Princess Hildoara is now Queen Hildoara.”

“That was fast,” a hint of nervousness flowed through Jeremy.

“We should neither overestimate nor underestimate her. Failing to find and kill his son took a toll on the last king’s sanity. I doubt he’d have lost if he was in his full mental state; however, taking over a kingdom in a week is impressive. Queen Hildoara could be a formidable enemy if she has ambitions of expansion.”

“She could do damage even if she loses,” Eleanor nodded.

“Then why not strike now?” Jeremy asked. “We can kill her while Vandalland is still reeling from its civil war!”

Eduard answered, “That would be a terrible idea. I remind you that she took over her nation in a week. We don’t know exactly how yet, but she likely still has her military mobilized. We can’t just rush in without thinking. Besides, she killed that fuck who pissed in my cornflakes. I’m at least grateful to her for that. That bastard made me sick for a week.”

“Even healing magic couldn’t stop his disgusting piss,” Eleanor shivered.

The prince glared, “Are you being cautious, or are you being a coward? You only ever attack people who are too weak to fight back!”

“Yes,” the king said. “And I’ve never lost a war. All my wars are either defensive, and defenders always have an advantage, or against kingdoms far weaker than Greenrivers.”

“But that’s cowardly!”

“It is effective. Know this, Jeremy. The strong prey on the weak. That is the nature of this world and the first lesson our patron god, Wulpaz, taught me. If we become weak, we’ll be preyed upon. That is why we must conquer, to make Greenrivers stronger,” Eduard stated.

“Then what about the commoners? They’re weak,” Jeremy said.

“They don’t have magic,” Eleanor replied. “But only because we induct commoners who can use magic into the nobility. And even if they are weak, they are our people. It is the duty of leaders to protect their people so long as they remain loyal.”

Eduard nodded, “We must not become like those degenerates in Motteburh.”

Jeremy pointed out, “But we have to do something! Queen Hildoara might be planning on invading us next!”

“I agree. Jeremy, go to Duke Armand,” the king instructed. “See if he can come up with some scheme to spy on Queen Hildoara. Considering our lack of information on the civil war, I think it’s safe to say that our old agents are either dead or defectors.”

The prince took a bow and left the room. He walked over to Armand’s room at a rapid pace and slammed the door open.

“Duke Armand, I…” his eyes widened in shock before he could continue speaking.

The duke was wrapped up in ropes and wore a blindfold and nothing else. He hung from a thick rope that was tied to other ropes wrapped around his body. That thick rope was looped through a hoop, suspending him midair. Its other end was being held by a short woman with slightly insect-like features, a doll mouth, and joints in her arms.

Jeremy slammed the door shut.

“Okay,” he took a deep breath. “I’ll wait until Armand’s done with…whatever he’s doing.”

A while later, court started. Numerous nobles were in Eduard’s grand hall along with a few commoners. The monarch himself sat on his throne with his wife on a throne beside him. He gazed over the gathered people with a commanding expression.

King Eduard the Defenestrater announced, “We have two items on our agenda before we get to petitioners and legal matters. The lands from my latest conquest are to be distributed to the lords under me. But before that, now that I am back here, I’m revoking the marcher lord status of all current marcher lords.”

A noble stepped forward and kneeled.

“Speak,” the monarch said.

“Your majesty, I must request that you do not revoke marcher lord status.”

“Count Elric,” Eduard hid his confusion. “Your family does not have marcher lord status.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“And your family hates the lords who have it.”

“Yes, your majesty,” the count nodded.

Eduard asked, “Then why do you not want it revoked?”

“Because I want it expanded to every noble. Permanently,” Count Elric answered.

The king burst out laughing. He clutched his stomach and rolled off the throne and onto the ground. It took Eduard five full minutes to force himself back on the throne.

“If you want to become my new court jester,” the monarch smiled. “I’d hire you right away.”

Elric said, “As much as I’d love the honor of being your jester, I am serious, your majesty.”

King Eduard felt like bashing his head against a wall until his brains fell out.

“And why, in the name of all the gods, should I give every single noble tax-exempt status?”

“Because the nobles of Motteburh don’t have to pay taxes,” Count Elric stated.

“What the foolish king of Motteburh does with his nobles is no concern of mine,” King Eduard replied. “And I can raise and command soldiers just fine when I’m in Greenrivers.”

“But Your Majesty, you could benefit a lot by giving us tax-exempt status!”

“How?”

Count Elric smiled, “I haven’t figured out how yet, but I’m sure you’d benefit.”

King Eduard felt a massive headache coming on, “Let me make this clear: you are paying your taxes. So is everyone else in this room.”

“But your majesty!” the noble objected. “How can we be expected to have the same duties as commoners? They’re completely beneath us!”

The room fell dead silent. All eyes turned to the noble. King Eduard looked from the noble to a window and back to him.

“Could you elaborate?” he asked.

“The commoners are subhuman. The fact that they don’t have magic is proof of that! Their sole purpose for existing is to serve the nobility, so they should pay extra taxes so we don’t have to!” Count Elric declared.

King Eduard the Defenstrater stood up, “Come over here a moment.”

Count Elric did as commanded, hoping that the monarch would “see reason” and accept his idiotic proposal.

“Heads or tails?” Eduard asked.

“What?”

“Heads or tails. Pick one.”

The count said, “Heads.”

Eduard threw him headfirst out the window.