Ch.574Episode 21 – Peace of Our Time

Humans are creatures of adaptation.

No matter how harsh a neighborhood might be, humans who live there exist, and regardless of how unpredictable the environment is, humans eventually adapt to it.

Or they remodel the environment to suit their tastes.

Frederick and Camilla were cases of adaptation.

Experience played a major role in this.

A spy who had repeatedly experienced the tyranny of a magic girl (former muggle) who would open her mouth wide and shout “KWAAANG!” in anger whenever provoked, now handled the situation skillfully like a veteran gamer who had figured out the boss mechanics, thinking, “Ah, at this point she’s going to shoot flames.”

Conversely, when the spy started spewing jokes about the British Empire’s historical karma, the magician would quickly notice, “Is it starting again? Well, the cooldown has reset,” and promptly punish him with a fully charged flame.

The reason these two could exchange historically accurate insults and magic-retaliation (lethal on contact) was because of the experience accumulated over the past year.

Frederick knew that Camilla, despite her devastating impact, wouldn’t burn him to ashes like a colonial village.

And Camilla had empirically learned that if she just pretended to be angry with her eyes closed, there was a 140% chance she’d be rewarded with sweet, crispy, and moist desserts she’d never tried before.

In other words:

Making world history’s root-of-all-evil jokes to a British person vs. Shooting elemental magic (the kind fairy tale dragons breathe) at a person.

They’d been repeating this nonsense as a pastime whenever the cooldown reset.

Truly, this was the kind of crazy behavior befitting someone from a peninsula nation where insult humor is a folk tradition and an island nation native prone to eccentric acts.

“Nom nom nom…”

Unconditional surrender brought peace.

When he presented desserts he had packed up while shouting, “I’ll give you all the cakes and snacks! Just spare me!” the magician’s anger subsided considerably.

Of course, on the surface, Camilla pretended to be reluctant, saying, “Ah, why would you bring all this…” but judging by her whipped cream-covered lips rising all the way to her ears, she had already consumed all traces of her anger.

To anyone watching, it looked exactly like someone training a person with food.

Which was half true.

“Eat slowly. Aren’t you worried about choking?”

“It would be nice to have something to drink.”

“What would you like me to make?”

“Tea!”

Frederick began preparing the tea Camilla had requested.

Now that her mood had improved and he’d found good material, he loaded another joke to get revenge for his back that was still stinging from her magical attack earlier.

Holding a mug, he peered around the sink and looked at her.

“Would it be okay if I just put a tea bag in tap water and microwave it? I don’t feel like getting out the kettle.”

“Is that a method you learned from some uncivilized country that doesn’t know the taste of proper tea?”

“America.”

“Then I’ll teach you how witch hunts were conducted in Europe. First, let’s prepare some firewood.”

“I’ll run out and buy purified water right away.”

Episode 21 – Peace in Our Time

Throughout history, East and West, the size of one’s dwelling has been used as a measure of the occupant’s power.

The Palace of Versailles, considered a masterpiece of Baroque architecture, is a prime example.

To solidify his goal of absolute monarchy, the King of France ordered the construction of Versailles Palace, seeking to elevate his authority by displaying his wealth.

This was during the era when the “Sun King” Louis XIV’s authority reached the heavens.

A similar example can be found in the housing restrictions (Kasajehan) of early Joseon Dynasty.

These were regulations that differentiated the overall size and type of hanok (traditional Korean house), the size and material of components, permissible decorations and colors, and details according to social status.

As the population residing in Hanyang gradually increased, everyone from high officials to commoners began building magnificent houses, showing signs of real estate speculation.

When this happened, King Sejong, who was serious about scientific victory and muscle pumping, declared, “Those who disturb the peaceful dawn nation with luxury will not be forgiven!” and activated the Korean people’s secret technique (regulation) to punish them all.

Thus, it is historically proven that people who live in large, spacious houses are rich or upper class.

Not talking about old apartment buildings that are always overpriced with no signs of redevelopment.

I’m referring to country houses in the English countryside with grounds spanning three acres, or magnificent mansions in wealthy neighborhoods like Beverly Hills.

Buildings from the early modern period constructed four centuries ago, corridors filled with antique art.

Open the windows to see a panoramic view and a wide garden where short grass dances, and an entrance that only appears after descending from a vintage car and climbing stone steps.

If the resident of such a mansion not only owns it but also exclusively possesses all the plains near the capital, preventing even the wealthy from settling in the area.

Just how extraordinary must the social background of this homeowner be?

It’s not a difficult question to answer.

Who in the world wouldn’t know Alexandra Petrovna, the “Northern Grand Duchess” of the Kien Empire?

-Whoosh~!

“Where is the professor, you ask?”

“I didn’t see her. I thought she’d be here with you.”

It’s well-known that Grand Duchess Alexandra Petrovna abducted Camilla to the Empire.

After all, when they parted ways in Ashtistan, the Grand Duchess carried her disciple like a bundle under her arm and headed for the warp gate. That scene was transmitted by word of mouth from embassies to various foreign ministries, becoming an open secret.

The imperial royal who values face had been angry enough to risk dishonor (honestly, even from my unbiased perspective, it was rather unseemly behavior), so I thought she would have thrown Camilla somewhere in the north by now, setting her up for auto-hunting against remaining demon tribes and monsters, training her like catching mice.

But what’s this?

Had she released this wild foal in a magnificent mansion and disappeared somewhere else?

This was the imperial villa in Petrograd. Built by the order of an emperor ranked among the top 5 greatest rulers in history, it now housed only Camilla, the imperial secretary, and the mansion staff including caretakers.

If this was the case, why had she made such a fuss about taking her away?

As I tilted my head, puzzled by the Grand Duchess’s incomprehensible psychology, Camilla (who had been “abducted” but was living so leisurely and luxuriously that even an excellent judge would ask, “How is this abduction?”) provided a clear answer to my question.

“I believe she went to the Imperial Palace.”

“The palace? Why suddenly?”

“How would I know? I only saw her leaving urgently at dawn, saying there was a call from the palace. She looked busy, so I couldn’t ask why.”

Camilla replied as casually as a child reciting the morning menu.

She was juggling what I’m not sure should be called fireballs, but several floating balls of fire, when she answered. When I asked why she was doing this when she wasn’t a circus performer, she gave the simple and clear answer: “The professor told me to.”

She threw the fireball with a swoosh and caught it as it fell, wobbling slightly back and forth.

“It’s practice for maintaining multiple spells at once. Using several spells simultaneously.”

“Ah, so each of these is a different spell?”

“Yes. Oof, almost dropped it.”

“I see…”

They did look somewhat different.

Anyway.

I approached Camilla, who was concentrating on her magic practice in the Grand Duchess’s absence. If the Grand Duchess, who still sees me as “the scoundrel who groped her disciple’s chest,” found out about this visit, I probably wouldn’t be able to walk out of the country on my own two feet.

But as the old saying goes, a crime that isn’t caught is indistinguishable from FM.

In other words, if she doesn’t find out I was here, the old lady won’t have anything to get upset about.

“This is the perfect crime.”

“What are you talking about…”

Camilla, who had been juggling, spun around in place and demonstrated the feat of catching a fireball falling behind her back without even looking.

She looked quite at ease. That must mean she’s become somewhat proficient.

“Hmm, this is harder than cricket. Anyway! I understand why you’re here. I’ll take responsibility for helping you persuade Lucia.”

She said she would help.

Camilla’s cooperation would be a great help in persuading Lucia. After all, no matter what anyone says, the two had formed a relationship beyond mere colleagues.

Of course, her expertise in British traditions (giving Independence Day gifts and writing off colonial reparations) was also a reason for seeking her out.

Conflicts don’t just refer to military standoffs. Historical, religious, racial, and social tensions also fall within the category of conflicts.

“That’s the most welcome thing I’ve heard. Let me explain briefly.”

I shared some information with Camilla.

The historical problems caused by the Order, the harmony hindered by religious conflicts, the arguments between conservative hardline clergy who value tradition and progressive reformist clergy who demand self-reflection.

And also the various controversies surrounding this situation.

“The reparation amount is no small sum. It’s about 860 trillion won, or nearly 57 trillion dollars. That’s the amount estimated by economic research institutes, so it might be somewhat inaccurate.”

“Whoa… Can the Vatican afford such expenditure? I don’t think even the reparations Britain should pay to Caribbean countries amount to that much.”

“The figures are bound to be different when you’re talking about money owed all over the world. Moreover, issues dating back at least 1,500 years are being discussed… Britain’s colonial rule of the Caribbean was only about 400 years, at most 600, right?”

“It was Spain that first discovered those places. It wasn’t until Cromwell’s time that Britain and France overtook Spain. A fleet sent to Jamaica clashed with the Spanish navy and took their colonies.”

“The Order’s situation is more serious. There was a papal city-state with 1,100 years of history that existed until relatively recently. They had to return it due to demands for restitution, but if they still had it now, it would have been quite a headache. Especially since it’s near the Great Forest, so they would have been harassed by elves…”

“Hmm! I get it now. So the problem is money they can’t afford to pay, right?”

“Yes. To put it simply, it’s about economics.”

To be direct, the Order neither had the ability nor the intention to pay reparations.

The amount is so astronomical that even if they scraped together all the antique art, holy relics, and sacred objects in Laterano, it might not be enough for reparations.

Meanwhile, Lucia is channeling King Gungye, wielding her mace and performing Holy-Attention Law.

And the countries that suffered damage are raising their claims wildly, as if determined to get their due, producing invoices that make even 62 trillion shillings seem unreasonable.

Even from the Order’s perspective, it feels unjust enough to say, “Are you robbers?”

It was too much to bear.

“Reparations are something they’ve been asked for repeatedly, but never really expected to pay, you know? The Vatican isn’t the type to open their wallet so easily.”

“But this time they saw a possibility? The one-in-14,000,605 future where they might actually receive reparations.”

I could only nod in agreement. Of course, I understood the governments’ positions to some extent.

“Developed countries might say they don’t need the money, but it’s different for developing and underdeveloped countries that desperately need funds. And it’s not like there’s no reason to receive it, and the amount is quite substantial.”

“When you say desperate, specifically what…?”

“For example, the small nations caught between the Eastern and Mauritanian continents. Countries that were trampled by the Crusader Knights during the ‘Eastern Expedition’ centuries ago for refusing to provide passage as ‘infidel nations.’ If we compare their environment to Earth, it’s similar to Nepal? Tibet? Their situation is quite chaotic.”

They have plenty of resources but lack the technology or capital to develop them. Foreign companies hesitate to invest, shaking their heads at the challenging mountainous terrain.

Meanwhile, dictators rule, rebels rise against them, black magicians parasitize the chaotic neighborhoods, gangs kidnap people to sell to black magicians and traffic illegal synthetic potions,

Out-of-control and thoroughly corrupt warlords, and fraudulent cults trying to make a quick profit from the suffering residents, all tangled together…

Camilla, Cambridge’s intellect well-versed in conflicts, summarized this chaotic situation in a single sentence.

“It’s like Far Cry 4. If it were South America, it would be Ghost Recon.”

“You should cut back on games.”

“Why? It makes it easy to understand. That southern Mauritania? The area closed off due to contamination or whatever reminds me exactly of the STALKER series. Or The Division.”

“…”

I was left speechless by Camilla’s attitude, her eyes sparkling as her whole body expressed “I really don’t understand.” Sigh.

I really don’t get it.

“Anyway, for other countries, reparations go beyond compensating for painful history; they’re an opportunity to rebuild declining nations. It’s a lifeline for some countries. Conversely, the Order wants to resolve the issue as slowly as possible. That’s beneficial for them too. They need ample time to properly reexamine past events.”

“That’s certainly true.”

“Whether it takes a few years or decades…”

With so many incidents, how could they investigate in just a few months? They need at least a few years to search records and consult experts.

Of course, calculating reparations based on investigation results, identifying recipients, and whether the other parties will wait that long are issues to consider later.

Right now, the more urgent matter was preventing Lucia from smashing the skulls of bishops and cardinals.

I had sufficient discussions with Camilla and made plans.

When to meet Lucia, what logic to use for persuasion, and what counterarguments to expect.

And incidentally, about the most significant obstacle.

“The sooner we get to Laterano, the better. But the real problem is…”

“Yes. Whether the Grand Duchess discovers us or not.”

“Hmm…!”

Camilla rubbed her chin with a serious expression. I also crossed my arms and nervously tapped my foot.

As everyone knows, Alexandra Petrovna currently has custody of Camilla. The Grand Duchess, in a teacher-student relationship, was thoroughly disappointed with her disciple due to the incident in Ashtistan (again, that was a misunderstanding).

She had brought her to the Empire for disciplinary training, and if her disciple suddenly said, “Farewell, Professor! I’m off to find freedom and fine cuisine!” and ran away, what would happen?

Most likely, the grand magician who once turned the heart of the Order, the holy site of Laterano, into a sea of flames would begin pursuit. And with a very high probability, I would be hunted too.

Hmm.

Well, there’s no other way.

“I guess we just have to go as is.”

“Are you sure? The professor has quite a fiery temper…”

When I muttered calmly, Camilla asked with a somewhat concerned voice.

“What choice do we have? It’s silly to avoid making kimchi because you’re afraid of maggots.”

I shrugged my shoulders, as if to say not to worry.

“It’s always easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.”

“Do you think she won’t forgive us?”

“What can we do? Just because she burned a holy site in her day, would she really chase us to the Order and use magic, or turn the holy site into chaos trying to catch you hiding in the cathedral? Honestly, maybe a hundred years ago, but would she really cause trouble in another country’s capital at her age?”

“I would break both your legs.”

“Right, rather than that, she might just cripple us both amicably—wait, what?”

I turned my head sharply, and there was the Grand Duchess.

What the hell.

Why is this old lady here?

“…!”

The young disciple nearly fainted in shock as the grand magician appeared, her mysterious silver hair fluttering.

The fireballs she had been juggling all flew up at once, falling onto the lawn and over her head.

The last fireball plunged onto Camilla’s plump bottom as she fell with a thud.

-Swoosh…!

“GYAAAAH, P-Professor…!”

It wasn’t the last one.

As the magic fell to the bare ground, it traced a strange trajectory and smacked her buttocks with a thwack! Then more fireballs floated up. Probably summoned by the Grand Duchess, as there was no other culprit.

A shower of magic from the teacher, full of devotion toward her disciple.

The moved disciple began rolling around on the lawn, tears and snot flowing.

I was caught.

“H-how did Your Grace get here…?”

As I trembled like an aspen leaf, the grand magician brushed back her disheveled hair and gave a curt reply.

“I placed a spell in case my wretched disciple might try to escape during my absence. An alarm went off, and since she hadn’t left but someone had come in from outside, I thought an outsider had intruded.”

Alexandra Petrovna closed her eyes. Then, with a slight click of her tongue, she showed her displeasure.

“…I had a feeling, and I was right. So you came to visit.”

An awkward smile appeared on my face.

I wasn’t smiling because I wanted to.

“Aha, ha…”

Irritation bloomed on the grand magician’s face.

With her excellent beauty, it wasn’t an unsightly expression.

But it was more than enough to strike down a person.

Especially if that person was a scoundrel who had touched her disciple’s chest. Of course, I had never touched her, and it was just the Grand Duchess’s misunderstanding.

“We’ll hear your circumstances later…”

“…”

“Give me ten reasons why I shouldn’t fry you with lightning.”

Looking at the vein bulging on Alexandra Petrovna’s forehead and her fierce blue eyes glaring as if to devour me, I thought:

To be honest,

Whether I die this way or that, if I’m going to die unjustly anyway, wouldn’t it be better to actually touch her once now?

Of course, that was nonsense.