Ch.79After the War

After the month of madness ended, representatives of Fahrenheit and the Allied Nations gathered once again before the city gates for the final treaty.

The contrast was stark—Fahrenheit’s emaciated advisor and standard-bearer stood opposite the Allied Nations’ representatives, whose faces glistened with oil from overindulgence. Third-party observers (diplomats and correspondents from other nations) couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry at the sight.

“According to ancient tradition, the month of plundering ends as of this moment. The Allied Nations’ armies will cease all hostile actions in Fahrenheit territory.”

The representative of the Allied Nations, a diplomat from Amurtat, stepped forward and addressed Fahrenheit’s advisor.

“We thank you for the prohibition of hostile actions and plundering.”

Though his expression conveyed anything but gratitude, the Allied Nations’ representatives chose not to make an issue of it.

“Once signed, the war will be over.”

“…”

Fahrenheit’s advisor silently looked down at the parchment.

The parchment contained many provisions, but the most infuriating was this:

-Transfer of property rights and copyrights for all intellectual property secured by Amurtat.-

Property rights indeed. Was this not simply a scheme to suck dry the knowledge created through the blood and sweat of Fahrenheit’s citizens, and then profit from it?

Though there’s a saying that bears do the work while humans take the money, and though a nation that initiated an invasion only to be defeated in counterattack had little room to complain, the advisor could hardly bring himself to pick up the quill pen under such harsh conditions.

Even excluding that clause, the parchment was densely packed with provisions poisonous only to Fahrenheit.

Just listing the notable ones:

-Prohibition of national and individual lawsuits regarding plundering and hostile actions during the one-month period.-

-Prohibition of transfer and restitution claims for removed artifacts and artworks.-

-Prohibition of claims for restoration costs of damaged and destroyed buildings and infrastructure.-

It was truly a treaty filled with the intention to claim rights while avoiding obligations, but Fahrenheit had no choice.

They were powerless, while the Allied Nations commanded an army of 1.2 million.

Even if they recalled Fahrenheit’s already disarmed forces, they would be outnumbered. The advisor, suppressing tears that threatened to burst forth, signed the treaty with trembling hands.

“Hmm…”

After examining the treaty, Amurtat’s diplomat took out his nation’s seal from his breast pocket, inked it, and stamped it on the signature portion of the document before passing it back to Fahrenheit’s advisor.

“Stamp it.”

“…”

Fahrenheit’s advisor also took out his seal, applied ink similarly, and stamped it neatly beside Amurtat’s imprint.

“With this, the war between Fahrenheit and the Allied Nations is concluded. May the angels’ blessing be with your nation.”

“Thank you.”

After these ceremonial words were exchanged, the advisor and diplomat summoned a magician to make 36 copies of the treaty.

One was for Fahrenheit, and the remaining 35 were to be distributed among the representatives of the Allied Nations, including Amurtat.

“Here you are. Everyone worked hard.”

“Hahaha! Amurtat worked the hardest of all. After all, we took the Master’s head!”

“Now that we can sell these plundered goods, our nation can launch even more ventures. They say one big break in life, and it seems they were right! Hahaha!!”

Watching the Allied Nations’ representatives laughing and building camaraderie, along with the correspondents and diplomats trying to glean more information, Fahrenheit’s advisor rose from his seat with a devastated expression.

Normally in such situations, even the defeated would have some followers, but as if that were merely wishful thinking, no one approached him. Only the standard-bearer, wearing the same expression, accompanied him back through the city gates.

What saddened them even more was that even after the gates closed, no one from the Allied Nations noticed their departure.

By now, hot tears were flowing from their eyes, and blood seeped from their tightly pressed lips.

*

And so, the brief war ended.

Though short, it had been eventful—they had taken a Master’s head and experienced both siege and defense, making it quite content-rich for such a brief conflict.

And above all, rewards had to be given at the end of the war.

CRASH!!!

“My goodness. There’s so much!”

“You all need to organize all of this.”

“Can’t we just put everything in the spatial storage?”

“We need to organize it first before storing it.”

“Sob…”

And Amurtat’s reward was ‘knowledge.’

In Polistory, knowledge functioned as a resource that could be obtained through various academic events or consumed to gain various positive temporary bonuses.

This ‘knowledge’ could be acquired from libraries, the Alchemist Guild, and occasionally from ancient grimoires brought by the Adventurer Guild. However, alchemists consumed more knowledge through ‘Academic Inspiration!’ events than they produced, and the probability of obtaining knowledge from the Adventurer Guild was too low, making neither a reliable source.

That’s why libraries and academic societies were necessary.

With Amurtat’s population approaching one million, wouldn’t it be strange not to have a city library and a private academic society?

The city library would generate knowledge steadily, albeit in small amounts, while the academic society would require significant resources but could absorb the highly educated citizens who were currently half-unemployed.

So the standard approach was to initially rely on the Adventurer Guild and Alchemist Guild for knowledge, then build a library once finances stabilized to start pumping knowledge, followed by constructing an academic society building to absorb the accumulating highly educated citizens (or those who refused physical labor) to foster high-value industries and advance to the next tech level.

And that next tech was the Magic Tower.

Actually, the next tech after the academic society should have been a university, not a Magic Tower, but because the requirements for a university were so demanding, most users considered the Magic Tower as the next knowledge-generating building after the academic society.

It had the tremendous merit of being able to train magicians, and it was the final cog in the so-called “Three Guild” meta that revolved around the Adventurer Guild, Alchemist Guild, and Magician Guild.

The Three Guild meta worked like this: the Adventurer Guild brought in various materials, the Alchemist Guild processed them into compounds, and the Magician Guild used these to create artifacts that were supplied back to the Adventurer Guild. Naturally, this process generated a tasty revenue stream of ‘money.’

Although the Three Guild meta had been relegated to the back burner with the emergence of various other metas, it remained a versatile build that was actively used in other metas through various modifications.

After all, these three guilds were the ones that ‘brought in resources from outside,’ so if you wanted to secure external resources, you had to use the guilds in some way.

“But now, we have the driving force to grow internally.”

“We’ve already secured a site to build the library. Just give the order.”

Snap!

At the advisor’s words, I opened the spatial storage and dropped materials at the prepared location.

Soon, thousands of waiting workers would swarm to build the library, creating an oasis of knowledge in Amurtat. Now that Amurtat had both external and internal growth engines, only one task remained:

Growth!

Amurtat desired more population, more resources, more land, and I had the duty to fulfill those desires.

Even if satisfying those desires meant invading other nations.

“Long live Amurtat.”

“Amurtat. Hurrah.”

Clink!

The advisor and I clinked wine glasses before Michaela, then set them down.

The wine glasses emitted only a faint red glow, and the darkness that began to descend upon Amurtat was no longer accompanied by silence.

Instead, the ground lights began to illuminate brilliantly, creating a beautiful night view that seemed to mock the moon’s power to bring darkness.

There would be no more night in Amurtat; after ten years, one northern city had become a beautiful city that never sleeps.