Ch.34The Best Offense

“How long does it take to get to Elisia?”

“Pardon?”

The aide opened his eyes wide in response to my question.

“I’ve been thinking, and we simply can’t let this slide. Think about it. Our Knight Commander nearly died.

And not at the hands of noble knights, but common street thugs.

Yet they haven’t sent a single messenger so far. Isn’t that a blatant disregard for our Amurtat?”

“Indeed… it is.”

Even trivial disputes between subordinates can be forgiven once proper apologies and compensation for damages are made. Most crimes, mistakes, and wrongdoings can be overlooked.

This is because few would insist on a fight to the death when the other party is willing to offer complete submission.

Yet Elisia, despite causing a tremendous diplomatic catastrophe by attempting to assassinate a nation’s Defense Minister, has remained silent. What does this signify?

It was nothing less than complete contempt for the nation of Amurtat.

Generally, a nation is said to consist of three elements: territory, citizens, and sovereignty.

And what Elisia has done is as follows:

They unilaterally invaded Amurtat’s territory, violating territorial exclusivity; they killed forty soldiers and nearly killed Lord Ignatz, infringing on the right of Amurtat’s citizens to protection; and finally, they obstructed the lawful process of handing over the trespassers who entered our territory—a clear violation of sovereignty.

In short, there were ample “grounds for war.”

“If traveling by horse, it would take about a month.”

“Round trip?”

“One way, of course.”

“Hmm… very well. I’ll wait until the end of this year.

But if there’s no contact from Elisia by spring of next year, then we shall take military action.”

“Understood.”

The aide offered no objection.

Even he recognized that I had legitimate grounds this time.

When a monarch is enraged about the disregard for national sovereignty, what servant would dare question it?

“Oh, and send a messenger to Fahrenheit.

Tell them that if Elisia doesn’t send an envoy with an apology by spring next year, Amurtat will proceed with punitive action against Elisia.”

“Yes, sir.”

When you have justification, you must make it known.

This incident has spread throughout Amurtat, and naturally, the foreigners and Adventurer’s Guild staff who were staying here at the time would have experienced this commotion.

It wouldn’t take Fahrenheit long to grasp the full details of the situation.

Then, I asked the aide about preparations for a full-scale war.

“If we assume 10,000 men waging war for one month, how many supply wagons would we need?”

“That would require calculation. Whether it ends with a simple show of force or…”

“Whether we engage in a full-scale siege.”

“…”

The aide nodded with a tense expression.

Crossing city walls meant more than its literal sense.

Walls exist for protection, and entering that protected area implies one monarch forcibly seizing another monarch’s domain.

Typically, a monarch’s domain consists of a foundational city and multiple villages.

The current Amurtat operates on a triangular system comprising “Amurtat City,” “Steelyard,” and the “Eastern Coastal Village.”

However, as the population grows, various villages will be established to supply primary resources, while the city will receive these resources and provide secondary industries (manufacturing) and tertiary industries (services).

Well, that was still a future concern, and such diversification would only occur once the population exceeded at least one million.

Until then, we could fulfill all our needs within Amurtat City.

But this also meant that if the city’s functions stopped, everything in the country would halt. That’s why wars between small city-states like Amurtat and Elisia were mostly short-term conflicts.

There was no need for prolonged fighting when capturing the capital meant game over.

The only exception might be proxy wars backed by major powers, but these weren’t particularly common.

Yet as the saying goes, misfortune can turn to fortune—this weakness could conversely become a strength.

Specifically, when a small nation defends against a larger one, if the defenders can secure basic resources (especially food) within the city, winning a siege becomes extremely difficult for the attackers.

The reason Amurtat can comfortably engage in military action now is because we’ve accumulated wealth through the steel industry. Conversely, without a clear source of income, long-distance expeditions place severe financial strain on a nation.

“Elisia has walls, but walls vary in quality. Judging by how their country is run, we might not need siege engines at all.”

“Bandit nobles ruling over a society with an excessive proportion of abnormals.

And a foolish nobility that entrusts everything to them while standing by…

It’s like an evil organization straight out of a fairy tale.”

Naturally, as corruption intensifies, maintenance and repair budgets are the first to be cut.

Things can go unrepaired for years without anyone noticing, and even with some damage, they remain usable.

But that only goes so far.

Just as buildings gradually weaken and eventually collapse, societies don’t crumble overnight.

The structures that maintain society are far more robust than ordinary people imagine, and societal homeostasis is surprisingly powerful.

However, the story changes when consistently weakened over hundreds of years.

Elisia was suffocating under Francesca’s rule of mercy, and its lifeline was running short.

They might come to their senses only when their arms and legs are seized by the limbs they’ve cut off in the name of mercy…

But if coming to one’s senses alone solved problems, there would be no wars in this world.

“There’s still plenty of time. I plan to wait until spring next year, so we have roughly nine months.

Let’s hope Elisia doesn’t waste the time between sowing seeds and harvest.”

“War should be avoided when possible, though sometimes it’s unavoidable. I’m not sure if you’ll appreciate my opinion.”

The aide bowed his head with a somber expression.

Although he oversaw administration, from the monarch’s perspective, he was merely a disposable commodity.

If his candid words were taken as offensive, his life could be forfeit—his lifetime of service equivalent to a lifetime of enduring humiliation.

“Well, war is indeed a bad thing. It drives people to death who needn’t die.”

“Then…?”

“But I am the master of Amurtat.

Elisia has insulted me, which means Amurtat has been insulted.

You know what that means, don’t you?”

“…Of course, Your Majesty.”

“If war is the best option available to me…

I would gladly send an army of 10,000 to Elisia. Remember that.”

I am Amurtat, and Amurtat is me.

If Earth had the divine right of kings, this world has the Earth Core.

Only I could protect my subjects from the real monsters and demons descending to earth, and this mighty power made me the monarch.

Demons aren’t seen near city-states because the Earth Core periodically emits waves that repel impure things. Evil gods’ revelations don’t descend within cities, and souls from human sacrifices don’t ascend to heaven because the earth binds their souls.

And I am the sum of all these things.

I don’t know what Elisia’s invaders were thinking when they set foot on my land, but they seem to have underestimated me greatly.

“By tomorrow, calculate how many wagons we’ll need and report back, Aide.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

No one wants to die in war.

But the persistence of wars means someone else desires conflict, and I will choose whether to send hawks or doves based on Elisia’s choice.

If Elisia chooses silence—avoidance—I will personally show them why Amurtat’s steel is renowned.

So choose, Francesca de Amor, Lady of Mercy.

War?

Or peace?

Even if everything else has been taken, at least that symbol remains. She must choose before I break and shatter that symbol.