Ch.129Balance of Power

Exactly six months later, in March of the 32nd year of the Amurtat calendar.

While farmers were diligently tending to their fields during this time, the situation in the north was developing in a rather unsettling manner.

The reason was obvious: the intensification of dangerous competition leading to an arms race, the resulting economic deterioration, and the subsequent severance and deterioration of diplomatic relations.

It seemed as if everyone had forgotten how they once joined forces to close the gates of hell. The alliance system had already collapsed, and there were no countries, including Amurtat, that wished to maintain even its empty shell.

Even countries with populations of around 30,000 were borrowing money to hire mercenaries. The situation resembled intertwined fuses embedded in a powder keg, waiting for someone to light the match.

However, since fires typically resulted in nothing but losses for everyone involved, the northern countries were all hoping, without exception, that someone would step up and end this arms race.

The problem was that no one actually wanted to do so.

Amurtat was the original instigator of this arms race and, due to the significant power gap between it and other countries, had the highest probability of emerging as the sole victor.

The truly suffering countries were the small and vulnerable ones, which faced enormous financial burdens as they had to maintain armies despite barely having enough to survive.

But just as the actual Cold War never escalated into a hot war, the true meaning of this “dangerous competition” wasn’t that war itself was dangerous, but rather that the act of “competing” by expanding armies and increasing armaments was dangerous.

As the saying goes, “When a sparrow tries to follow a stork, it splits its legs.” Responding to strength with strength only leads to self-destruction.

“However, if the balance of power is achieved, the story changes…”

There are limits to how much an army can be expanded.

Even Amurtat, with a population of 3.4 million, was struggling to maintain a standing army of 200,000. This suggested that what other countries were building as standing armies were essentially just militias.

Moreover, unlike Earth, this world had the Adventurers’ Guild, which acted as a black hole for manpower, further reducing the available workforce. This meant that those currently building up their standing armies were essentially creating 1945-style national assault troops by pushing everyone except those necessary for maintaining the state into the military.

Such madness typically doesn’t last long, and even with the intensification of dangerous competition, it was rare to see it reach such extreme levels.

If I had to guess, the fall of Fahrenheit, the advent of the gates of hell, and the rise of heretics had already forced countries to focus on defense. Then the tactless Amurtat went and lit the fuse.

And the safest way to handle burning gunpowder was to let it burn itself out completely.

*

“Are the preparations complete?”

“Of course, Your Majesty. The branch heads of the Adventurers’ Guild in each country have unanimously expressed their agreement.”

“Then there should be no problem. Implement the plan promptly.”

“As you wish…”

My reason for contacting the Adventurers’ Guild was to sell outdated weapons to weaker countries.

The formal diplomatic procedures were too cumbersome, and more importantly, going through official channels would inevitably expose our actions to other countries. Thus, I had no choice but to borrow the Guild’s assistance.

If exposed, there was a high probability that baseless rumors would spread among countries claiming, “Amurtat is trying to use weak countries as puppets to attack us from behind!”

If that seems too far-fetched, let’s revisit how Fahrenheit collapsed.

In the current climate of heightened tensions, most countries would misinterpret even the clearest statements.

After Allen closed the door and left, I, the unintentional architect of the northern countries’ financial ruin, sat in my chair and pressed my temples.

“Sigh… Being a great power is difficult.”

“I’m not sure when we became a great power… but well, everything is relative.”

I nodded in agreement with my aide’s words.

As the saying goes, “In a cave without tigers, the fox becomes king.” With Fahrenheit’s thorough collapse in the north, Amurtat was the only country capable of drawing the attention of the entire northern region.

I knew from experience that becoming the pearl of the north meant dealing with those captivated by its brilliant luster, but it was incredibly challenging for an unripe pearl in its shell to cover all the countries of the north.

It was only because of Amurtat’s strict bureaucratic system that we could handle such matters efficiently. With medieval-style improvised administration, this would have been nearly impossible.

But what could I do? No one had held a knife to our throats and forced us not to adopt a bureaucratic system. No one had the right to criticize others for enduring immediate disadvantages to secure future benefits.

“The weapons have all been prepared, I assume?”

“Of course.”

In fact, calculations showed that our existing weapons would be insufficient, so we commissioned the craftsmen of Steelyard to produce additional outdated weapons.

We also thoroughly refurbished our stockpiled weapons to make them look new.

The effort put into this implied, “No matter how well you make weapons, you can’t match Amurtat’s craftsmen.”

While handcrafted masterpieces might be superior in quality in places without established factory systems, Steelyard’s factory-style operation could mass-produce quality weapons as long as the blacksmiths were skilled enough.

Selling such weapons at prices that didn’t even cover the cost of raw materials was a silent warning that no matter how hard other countries tried, they could never catch up to Amurtat, and by extension, that the current arms race was meaningless.

*

Two months later.

The small countries I had contacted through the Adventurers’ Guild accepted my proposal.

To be more precise, they practically begged, clinging to my trouser legs.

My offer was one weapon for one copper coin.

When I proposed this shocking price—one copper coin for any weapon, be it a sword, shield, or armor—the previously demoralized countries saw my offer as a lifeline sent from heaven. Without hesitation, they began flocking to Amurtat’s doors with bags of copper coins.

Soon, weapons were distributed through the Adventurers’ Guild, and before long, the soldiers of small countries were enjoying an undeserved luxury.

“What is this? How can those poor wretches afford to arm themselves with expensive Amurtat steel weapons?”

“We sold them because they paid. Is there a problem?”

“When we asked to buy weapons, you flatly refused!”

“That’s because you have the foundation and manpower to make weapons. Those are tiny countries that can’t even produce steel. It’s only right that they be given the means to protect themselves. It is His Majesty Tiberius’s intention to provide weapons to the weak for immediate self-defense, and materials to the strong so they can make their own weapons.”

“No matter how you look at it, isn’t this favoritism?”

“If it’s favoritism, what are you going to do about it?”

“What?”

“I asked what you’re going to do if we show favoritism to certain countries. When Amurtat imported weapons from the central region, you all rushed to increase your armaments without hesitation. Isn’t it ironic that the source of those weapons is now Amurtat? Small countries are suffering because of your overreactions, not knowing how they’ll survive the coming winter, and yet you make such heartless remarks. I will report this to His Majesty.”

My aide appropriately blocked the complaints from several dissatisfied countries.

An aide who speaks rudely even to his own lord wouldn’t lose a war of words with mere envoys from other countries.

In the end, relations with countries that came to pick a fight only to be humiliated became awkward, but what of it?

This world is fundamentally about the survival of the fittest, where the strong take all.

When Amurtat, the strong, showed a bit of kindness to the weak out of pity, it was quite a sight to see countries capable of taking care of themselves swarming like wolves…

“The pitiful struggles of small countries… truly a sad sight to behold.”

Muttering thus, I drank the wine Michaela had poured for me.

The wine was refreshingly cool, and once again, winter came to the north.

Winter, where blades gleam through the gently falling snow.