How a Realist Hero Rebuilt The Kingdom

Epilogue

The central city of the Carmine Duchy, Landel.

In the center of that central city, in the meeting room in Landel Castle, in the residing castle of Duke Georg Carmine, right now, the three dukes who controlled the land, sea, and air forces of this country had gathered.

First, at the head of the table was the lord of this castle, Georg Carmine.

This lion-faced beastman had a burly, muscular build that was apparent even through his military uniform. He had the appearance of a warrior who had weathered many battles. Beastmen were no longer-lived than humans, but even at the age of fifty, he showed no signs of decline. His very presence was enough to make the atmosphere tense.

Seated to Georg’s right was Admiral of the Navy, Excel Walter.

Wearing a kimono that was similar in style to the ones worn in Japan, she was a beautiful sea serpent woman with antlers poking through her blue hair. Sea serpents were a race that could live for over a thousand years, and she herself had already reached an age of more than five hundred, yet she still looked to be in no more than her mid-twenties. However, contrary to her appearance, her command showed all the experience that came with that age.

Sitting across from her was General of the Air Force, Castor Vargas.

He looked like a gallant young man, but the two oni-like horns that grew through his red hair, the membranous wings that grew from his back, and the lizard-like tail marked him as a half-dragon, a dragonewt. He was close to one hundred years old, but as a member of a race that lived to five hundred years, he was still treated as a youngster. He, too, looked like he was in a foul mood.

Looking at the other two, Excel sighed. “...I was under the impression that we were meeting here to avoid a needless conflict.”

“What, Duchess Excel, are you afraid of that whelp?” Castor took an aggressive tone with Excel. “Has the once-feared sea serpent Duchess Excel grown old?”

“Oh, me? And who was it who tried to seduce this old granny fifty years ago, hmm?” Excel asked.

“Urkh.”

“Also, when you address me, it’s not ‘Duchess Excel,’ it should be ‘Mother,’ shouldn’t it?”

“...Right.”

With that playful rebuttal, she deflated Castor.

In truth, Excel had been Castor’s first love. Perhaps because he had been unable to forget her even after his attempts failed magnificently, when he had later met Accela, her daughter who was closer to him in age, he had fallen in love with her at first sight and they had married. In short, Castor was Excel’s son-in-law. She was not someone he was in a position to argue with and win.

“Castor, do you still mean to oppose the king?” she asked.

“Of course! I don’t care if he’s a hero, or whatever else they want to call him, that fake king usurped the throne, forced Princess Liscia into a betrothal, and unjustly seized power in this country! How could I serve a guy like that?!”

“The only ones who tell it like that are the nobles being investigated for corruption,” she corrected him. “King Albert abdicated of his own will in favor of the man he felt would be a better successor. The king’s relationship with Princess Liscia is close, too.”

“I don’t know about that! He may just be making it look that way! If he wanted to rebuild this country, he could have done it as a vassal! Was there some problem with the former king’s reign?” he snapped.

Excel wisely said nothing.

There were no problems with it, but there were no good points to it, either, and that was a problem, thought Excel, but to say so would be too disrespectful to the former king, so she refrained.

Excel had found the speed with which Albert had abdicated dubious, but all signs since then had pointed to it being a wise decision. Excel didn’t remember Albert as a ruler who could make such a decision, but perhaps it merely meant he had grown as a person.

“Besides, we three dukes have protected this country for many long years. I can’t stand the way he’s belittling us!” the man snapped. “The letter he sent me as soon as the throne was abdicated to him was ‘Serve me, or not, make your choice,’ you know?”

“It was ‘If you will cooperate with my reforms, I will provide food aid and build roads for you’... Right?” she asked.

The three duchies had a lower population than the crown demesne, and because they had armies to supply, they had reserves, so the food crisis had not been felt as deeply in them. However, when the food crisis had hit, the three duchies had opened up their reserves and begun rationing, so all of the merchants who’d dealt in foodstuffs had gone bankrupt due to lack of demand. Next, because of the rise in unemployment, shops had gone out of business because their wares wouldn’t sell. Then, in a chain reaction, the craftspeople who had supplied them had gone under, as well.

On that point, Souma had weathered the crisis by providing subsidies only to the poor, not distributing more than necessary, encouraging people to eat foods there had been no custom of eating before, and increasing the country’s transport capacity by building roads. In doing this, he had managed to minimize the degree to which the economy shrank. Furthermore, of the three duchies, only the Walter Duchy had independent maritime trade routes and had been able to just barely stop the negative feedback loop by selling off their excess merchandise to other countries.

But that’s something I was able to do because my duchy has a port city, Excel thought. Neither the Carmine Duchy nor the Vargas Duchy have inland trade routes. With his large army, along with the fleeing nobles and their personal retinues to care for, the Carmine Duchy must be suffering from serious economic problems. If that’s the case, why is Georg so adamant about opposing the king?

As she was thinking that, Castor roared, “‘I’ll feed you like a pet, so obey me,’ is basically what that means! He’s looking down on us!”

“If it’s for the benefit of your people... what else is there to be done?” Excel asked.

“I don’t like it! Does he think he can tame us with a little bait?!”

“I doubt the king needs a pet with pride and little else,” Excel said.

Castor slammed both his hands down on the table. “...What is with you today?! It’s like you’re defending the king! I know you don’t like him, either. That’s why you ignored the king’s requests for assistance!”

“Kindly don’t act as if we’re the same,” she said tartly. “What the sea serpent race must prioritize above all else is the peace and safety of our beloved Lagoon City. If he will just guarantee me that, I’m prepared to obey him.”

The sea serpent race, with Excel at their lead, had a unique system of values.

Sea serpents always thought of the needs of their city, Lagoon City, first and foremost. Their ancestors had once lived on an island in the Nine Headed Dragon Archipelago, but after losing in a power struggle within those islands, they had been driven out to sea, becoming wandering pirates.

Then, at the end of their long years of wandering, their ancestors had finally built a base of operations at what was now Lagoon City. The sea serpents protected themselves on this land which they had finally gained for themselves with love and with pride. The sole reason they had participated in the founding war of this multiracial state, the Elfrieden Kingdom, had been to protect Lagoon City.

“If it will benefit Lagoon City, I’ll wag my tail for anyone, and if they threaten Lagoon City, I will eliminate them, no matter how great they are in number. That is the pride of the sea serpents,” Excel explained.

“Hmph, wagging your tail is something to take pride in?” he snorted.

“Yes. I fight to protect the things I must. I’m not an infant who throws a tantrum just because he doesn’t like someone. If it can be resolved by talking, there’s no better outcome than that. It would be absurd to start fighting among ourselves now, when our neighbors are eyeing us for an opportunity to strike.”

“...The Principality of Amidonia, huh?” he muttered.

He was referring to the country which bordered Elfrieden to the west.

When they had found themselves on the receiving end of the expansionist policies of the king who had been king before Albert, the Principality of Amidonia had lost close to half its land. Now, they were watching closely for any chance to regain their lost territory. Amidonia seemed eager to intervene in the dispute between King Souma and the three dukes, having already sent them a letter saying, “If you intend to depose the false king, we are prepared to dispatch troops to aid you.”

“Honestly, what a stubborn bunch,” he snorted. “Their intentions are so transparent.”

“I’m sure they’ve sent a letter to the king, too,” Excel said. “I doubt the king will take them up on it, but they may dispatch ‘reinforcements’ anyway. You see what I mean? About how foolish it is for us to quarrel now.”

“Hmph. Fine, then why don’t you just go to the king’s side already.”

“There are a number of things I want to see and judge for myself, and then I plan to do just that. Things about the king, and about you.”

Excel turned a silent glance towards Georg Carmine. After some light pleasantries when she had first been brought into the room, he had closed his eyes and said nothing. Was he listening to Excel and Castor make their cases, or was he thinking about something himself? She didn’t think he was sleeping, but... Excel was beginning to become irritated with his demeanor.

“Georg, what are you thinking?” she snapped.

“...What do you mean, what?”

“Oh, my. So you were awake after all,” she said. “Of course I’m asking why you, the one who is most patriotic and loyal to this country of all of us, would take hostile actions against the new king.”

“Duke Carmine, you don’t like that fake king either, right?” Castor demanded.

“I wasn’t asking you, Castor,” Excel said. “Answer me, Georg. Setting aside his legitimacy, his reign has been a stable one. Why would you go out of your way to cause turmoil like this?”

With Excel pressing him for answers, Georg opened his mouth gravely. “I judged him incapable of ruling this country. That is all.”

“And why is that? What is it about his abilities, with which he will soon overcome the food crisis and economic difficulties that were pushing this country to the brink, that dissatisfies you?”

“In order to accomplish that, that king cast aside many things without hesitation.” Georg opened his eyes. That alone was enough to make the atmosphere in the room tense.

Excel and Castor both gulped. He was the youngest person present, yet in appearance and mentality, he was the most mature of all of them. This was the imposing presence of the greatest warrior in the country.

“I’ve heard that that king was summoned from another world,” he said. “Because of that, he has no attachment to things and can discard them without hesitation. If he deems them inefficient, then be it history, traditions, soldiers, or vassals, he’ll throw them away. Am I wrong, Duchess Excel?”

“That’s...” Excel found herself at a loss for words. It was true, she could see that King Souma’s reign had that side to it.

“Vassals who’ve served this country for many long years were abandoned by that king,” he continued.

“Yes, that was because they were corrupt.”

“Will you still say that, even if they turn on him as a result? I believe you yourself just spoke of the folly of endangering the country at this time. That king is the one who sowed the seeds for it.”

“You say that, but you’re the one who’s sheltering those nobles,” she said.

“Those with a grudge against the king will be useful pawns in defeating him,” he responded. “Of course, I have no intent of reinstating those people once the war is over.”

Excel shuddered at the way the corners of Georg’s mouth rose as he spoke those words. Does this man mean to work the corrupt nobles to death in a war?!

He would strike down the king, work the corrupt nobles to death, and even if he couldn’t dispose of all of them that way, he would find some excuse after the war to execute them. These were people for which any number of reasons could be found.

Then, with the current king’s faction and the corrupt nobles having vanished from the capital, only an empty lot on which he might build whatever he wished would remain. He could reinstate King Albert as his puppet, if he so wished. Or he could rise to become king himself.

Excel stood up. “Have you been driven mad with ambition for the throne?!”

“H-Hey now, calm down,” Castor intervened, trying to smooth things over. “This is Duke Carmine you’re talking about. I’m sure he’s not planning to usurp the throne, right?”

Georg gave a nod. “Of course not. Once King Souma is removed, I will have King Albert take the throne once more, and we will support him.”

“...I’m not convinced.” Excel lowered her posture. She was feigning calmness, but she was actually quite flustered.

The situation is worse than I anticipated. This is the worst possible scenario... Perhaps I need to act on the assumption that Georg already has undisclosed ties with Amidonia. Ugh, if Castor was any judge of character, we might have worked together to reign in Duke Carmine... Excel cursed her son-in-law for his short-sightedness.

Her daughter had married into his house and had since borne her two grandchildren. She was worried what might happen if she let Duke Carmine win, but if Excel were the only one to join the loyalist faction and King Souma were then to win, as the wife and children of the traitor Castor, what would become of Accela and her children? Under this country’s laws, when a serious offense was committed, relatives of up to three degrees of consanguinity were guilty of the same crime. If she cut ties with the House of Castor, the House of Walter would avoid that chain of responsibility, but if she did that, Accela and the children would...

“Castor,” she said.

“What?”

“Cut your ties with Accela, Carl, and Carla.”

“Are you trying to say we’re going to lose to that whelp?!” he shouted.

“It’s in case the worst should happen. If you intend to face the king, at least be prepared for the possibility.”

Excel glanced over at Georg, but his eyes were closed, as if to say he had no intent of intervening. Even though she was discussing what would happen if he lost... Was this a show of confidence, perhaps?

Castor who had been asked to cut ties with his wife and children, on the other hand, had a troubled look on his face. “Accela and Carl, maybe... But Carla, I can’t.”

“Why not?!” Excel demanded.

“...Because she’ll never listen to me.”

At that moment, the doors to the conference room slammed open.

Through the open door, a beautiful young girl entered. Her flaming red hair and shining golden eyes were quite distinctive. She was sixteen or seventeen years old. She wore heavy armor in a metallic red color, and from her back and rear protruded the wings and tail of a dragon.

“Carla...” whispered Excel.

This was Castor’s daughter, Carla.

She had gotten her facial features from Excel and was a fair young beauty, but when it came to her temperament, Castor’s blood seemed to have won out. Instead of doing anything feminine, she had joined the air force unit led by Castor, training day in and day out.

Because of her beautiful face, many sons of the nobility and gentry had sought her attentions, but she had said in no uncertain terms that “I will never take a man weaker than me as my husband.”

In fact, she was the second strongest in the air force after Castor, and so she had handily trounced every one of her suitors. As a father, Castor was relieved, but as a parent, his feelings were more complicated, and he worried she might wait too long and never be able to get married.

Seeing Carla appear here, Excel had a bad feeling about what was going to happen.

And, as she had expected, Carla said, “Grandmother! If Father has decided to fight, then I shall fight, too!”

Excel shouted back, a vein pulsing on her forehead, “No, you must not! Do you mean to become a traitor at your age?!”

“I cannot forgive him for unseating King Albert and trying to force himself on my friend, Princess Liscia!” she declared. “I will punish him for his insolence personally!”

“You’ve misunderstood!” Excel shouted. “King Souma is...”

“Ah... It’s no use, Mother. Once she gets like this, Carla won’t budge an inch.” Castor shrugged his shoulders in resignation.

“You people... Honestly...”

Even as Excel held her head in consternation, Georg remained silent.

The capital of the Principality of Amidonia, Van.

In the territory of the Principality of Amidonia, which was longer on the map than it was wide, this city on the eastern side was the capital.

Some had felt it was too close to the Elfrieden Kingdom to be a capital, but its selection had likely been a manifestation of their unbroken determination to regain the stolen eastern territory.

In the governmental affairs office in the castle in the center of Van, a middle-aged man with a handlebar mustache was reviewing documents.

His cloaked figure looked somewhat plump, but this was only because he had broad shoulders. He was not actually obese. In fact, under his cloak, he was extremely muscular.

This man was Prince Gaius VIII of Amidonia.

“Oh ho...” he said.

“What is it, Father?” A young man in his twenties who stood waiting at his side queried. He had a handsome face, but his eyes had a cold glint which chilled those who looked at them. He was the crown prince and heir apparent of the Principality of Amidonia, Julius Amidonia.

Gaius handed the document he had been reading to Julius. “It’s from Georg Carmine. It seems he’s ready to ‘stand up.’”

“I see,” Julius said. “At long last. I’ve heard of the swift, severe attacks he would make in his younger years, never giving us time to catch our breaths. For a personage of such ability, he was awfully slow to act.”

“He’s grown old, I’m sure,” his father said. “Were his mind still keen, he never would have taken us up on our offer.”

“True...”

After Julius returned the document to him, Gaius rose from his seat. “We will move when the new king declares war. Send ‘reinforcements’ to the kingdom.”

“Oh...? And to which side?”

“Which? To the king’s side, we say, ‘We are with the three dukes,’ to the three dukes’ side, we say, ‘We are with the new king.’”

“I see,” Julius said. “We have no reason to obey either side that way.”

“Heh heh heh. Precisely.”

Gaius and Julius looked to one another and shared a dark smile.

Beside them, there was a pair of cold eyes watching.

Good heavens... Sometimes I just ain’t sure what I oughta do about my old man and my idiot brother.

The cold eyes belonged to a young girl.

She was sixteen or seventeen years old. She had an attractive face, like Julius, but not his air of cruelty. If anything, her eyes were small and beady, and with her round face, she had the stuffed animal-like adorableness of a raccoon dog. Her hair was tied in two braids at the nape of her neck.

This girl who looked good in these braid-style twintails was the first princess of this country, Roroa Amidonia. However, contrary to appearances, her inner voice was sharp tongued (and spoke in mercantile dialect).

This country ain’t long for this world as is. Are these idiots tryin’ to shorten what little time it has left? she thought.

Amidonia was a mountainous country. It had plentiful metal resources, but on the other hand, it had little arable land, so it was always faced with food shortages. The food crisis in neighboring Elfrieden was bad, but nothing compared to what this country faced. Even a slightly poor harvest would mean people starved to death.

I do understand why the old man’s tryin’ to get even a little more fertile land for us, I do, but the old man’s pourin’ every last cent that I worked so hard to scrimp and save for him into military fundin’. Roroa ground her back teeth together in frustration.

While Roroa was a princess, she also had uncanny financial sense, and she supported this country’s financial policies from the shadows. After getting the economy moving through foreign trade, she limited exports of resources and encouraged the export of finished products to protect and develop their industries. The reason this country on the brink hadn’t seen its economy collapse was in large part thanks to Roroa’s monetary sense.

However, Gaius had been unable to fully make use of Roroa’s money-raising ability.

If they’d been usin’ the funds I’d earned to develop industry, they mighta been able to bring in even more funds, but these war mongerin’ economic nitwits go and spend it all on the military. What makes it even worse is that they sincerely believe “If we strengthen the military, we can steal whatever we need.” Are they morons? You spend money to make money, it’s that cycle that’s important. If you’re just dumpin’ money into somethin’, that’s called wasteful spendin’! ...But even if I were to scream that at them, they probably wouldn’t listen to me...

“You agree, too, right, Roroa?” her brother said.

“Yes, Brother.” When the conversation suddenly turned to her, Roroa replied with a big fake smile. Though, in truth, she hadn’t been listening to a word they said...

...The end may finally be here for this country. Oh, how I envy the Elfrieden Kingdom. With their large population, they must have a lot of tax revenue they can move around, and best of all, their king’s the sort who’d be able to understand what I’m talkin’ about. Honestly, I’m so jealous of our neighbor’s wallet... Their wallet?

At that moment, Roroa came to a realization.

If I’m jealous of my neighbor’s wallet... Why don’t I just combine it with my own? As legally as possible... Maybe I can do that? ...Yeah, maybe I can. In that case, I can contact the old man in charge of guarding Nelva...

Roroa began formulating a plan of her own. High risk, high return.

They say that as Roroa embarked on the greatest intrigue of her life, her smile resembled her father’s and brother’s just a little.

At the capital of the Elfrieden Kingdom, Parnam...

I was in the governmental affairs office in Parnam Castle, listening to the final report on the food crisis.

“As you see in the materials provided, we can expect good results from the fall harvest. Furthermore, the transportation network you laid out has accelerated the movement of people, and now goods have spread across the land without overabundance or shortages anywhere. Of course, this applies to foodstuffs, as well. From these facts, I believe we can treat the food crisis as, by and large, solved for now.”

“That’s good to hear,” I said. “It makes all the hard work worth it.”

It had been a long road, but now I could finally take a breath and relax. As the person who’d been grappling with this problem all this time, it was an especially emotional moment for me. However...

“Yes. With this, we can now safely move on to the next stage,” Hakuya said, with no regard whatsoever for my emotional moment.

...The next stage, huh.

“We... really have to do it, don’t we?” I asked.

“Does it weigh on you?” he asked.

“Well, yeah. I understand the necessity of it, though...”

Yes. This was necessary.

The political theorist Machiavelli had said this in The Prince.

“If a prince should stain his hands with cruelties, even in peaceful times, he will have difficulty holding the state. However, for some tyrants, even after infinite cruelties, they live long and secure in their countries, defending themselves from external enemies and never being conspired against by their own citizens. I believe that this follows from cruelties being properly or badly used.

“Those which may be called properly used are those applied in one blow at a time when it is necessary for one’s security. If a prince does not persist in them afterward, ruling in a way that advantages the people as best as he is able, he may even be remembered as a great ruler. However, one who fails to strike out the root of trouble from the beginning, dragging things out and inflicting repeated cruelties, uses them badly.”

This passage was one reason that Machiavelli’s The Prince had been, for a long time, criticized by the humanists of the Christian church. However, the cruelties he had spoken of there did not refer to massacres of ordinary people. He was talking about using trickery to permanently dispose of political opponents.

If you can stabilize your hold on power with one act of cruelty, then govern well afterward, it is a happy thing for the people. On the other hand, if you spend all your time worrying about what your political opponents think and don’t advance any worthwhile policies, not striking out the root of trouble in one blow, purging traitors again and again, you will lose the trust of the people.

The prince Machiavelli had held up as his ideal, Cesare Borgia, had massacred the influential nobles who had welcomed him during a feast, securing absolute power for himself.

Nobunaga Oda had used his severity well, taking the Oda Family from rural daimyos to becoming great daimyos in a single leap. However, in the end, because Nobunaga had persisted with his severities, he had shortened his own life, ultimately dying to a betrayal by one of his vassals.

In other words, “cruelty” was like a prince’s treasured sword that could cut through anything, but if he grew addicted to using it, it was also like a cursed sword that would eventually destroy him.

“As I’ve said before,” I said, “I’ve deemed your plan a cruelty.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “You also said, ‘If we are to do it, let it be in one stroke.’”

“You can do it that way, I assume?” I asked.

“The preparations have already been made.”

“...Very well, then.”

I could say it was for this country, but I wasn’t that attached to the place.

I didn’t have a just cause, or a great one. But, when I questioned why I was doing it, suddenly Liscia and the others’ faces came to mind. Those who lived, smiling, in this country: Liscia, Aisha, Juna, and Tomoe’s faces.

I thought of the bonds I had lost in the old world. I thought of the bonds I had formed in this new one.

I already thought of those girls as my family.

“Kazuya, build a family. And, once you have, protect them, come whatever may.”

...I know, Grandpa. I’ll protect my family to the end, no matter what comes our way.

In order to do that, just this once, I will become a cruel king.

“We will now begin the subjugation.”