Ch.872I’ll Let It Slide Just This Once.

I will provide food for eighteen hundred people if you agree not to attack first for three years.

A non-aggression treaty with food as the bargaining chip. Honestly, it wasn’t a particularly valuable offer.

Setting a three-year time limit was essentially a declaration that they planned to do something after those three years passed.

Besides, there was no guarantee these bastards would strictly adhere to that three-year deadline.

“Swear an oath? Why should I trust the likes of you?”

It was a dubious condition in many ways. Under normal circumstances, I would have drawn my sword and cut off his head without a moment’s hesitation.

Of course, if Targiyan broke his oath and launched a surprise attack on the west, or openly raised an army after three years… he’d be the one to die.

In three years, the Empire could deploy dozens of airships, and Hestella could train more than a dozen Heroes with time to spare.

Me? I’d be one of two things.

Either I’d have gained power that even the Four Dragons wouldn’t take lightly and defeated the final boss alongside Demian, or I’d have failed to defeat the final boss and died along with the world.

Three years was a long time. At least for me right now.

“You don’t have any other options anyway, do you? The condition of those refugees speaks for itself. If just three more days pass, half of them won’t even be able to walk properly. Isn’t that right?”

Mersin had already clearly seen through our situation—that most of the Ka’har civilians following me were on the verge of starvation.

That’s why he could feign composure while sweating profusely.

“When it comes to that… well, couldn’t we just visit nearby villages and receive some ‘donations’?”

I wanted to avoid the option of plundering if possible, but if there was no other way, so be it.

We’d have to select small villages scattered throughout the plains and take just enough food to ensure the villagers wouldn’t starve to death.

So there was no need to depend on Targiyan’s food.

That’s what I thought.

“Well… that won’t be so easy for you. We’ve already collected all the food available in this area.”

At least until Mersin gave that reply with a fox-like smile.

“Is that so?”

I let out a derisive laugh.

So while we were marching to Ordos to kill Meiharin and his forces, Targiyan’s army had been thoroughly scouring this area and gathering up all the food.

No wonder they didn’t show their faces until Ordos was reduced to ashes. They were hiding behind the scenes, pulling these kinds of tricks.

“Then I’ll just have to ‘receive donations’ from you. How thoughtful of you to gather food for me personally. Such loyalty—I’ve never seen such devotion.”

My smile was laced with murderous intent as I made this blatant threat. Mersin flinched at my killing intent, which had grown even stronger than before.

“Even if you do that, it won’t help. I’ve already advised Lord Targiyan. If you kill me or try to steal the food without making the oath, he should burn all the collected food.”

Even while trembling, his mouth was running as smoothly as if it were oiled.

“We can scatter across the plains and survive on our own even if we burn all our provisions… but those people don’t have that ability. You might return safely, but they will all die.”

[Hmm… this has become troublesome. His cunning and eloquence have improved since before.]

Hersella gave Mersin high praise, suggesting he had grown considerably as an advisor.

[Being under that boar Targiyan must have given him plenty of opportunities to exercise his mind.]

Though it sounded somewhat sarcastic.

“Hmm…”

I trailed off in frustration, puffing heavily on my mana herb.

It wouldn’t be particularly difficult to kill Mersin right here, or to hunt down and kill the warriors scattered across the plains like fallen insects…

But the food would all burn. No matter how fast I was, I couldn’t outpace them setting fire to the provisions.

And if, as Mersin confidently claimed, all the food from the nearby villages had been taken, there would be no way to feed the refugees unless Jesus himself came down for the Second Coming.

If things went that way, at least eight hundred people would starve to death before even seeing the Wall. That would be the worst outcome for me.

Having sworn to ensure their safety, I would have let about half of them starve to death after just a few days.

If that had been my intention, I would have left them in Ordos from the beginning.

I couldn’t let the refugees who had followed me in hopes of survival starve to death.

Those who had passed Lacy and Adamante’s test and followed me were no longer just nomadic plunderers of the plains—they were my people.

“Haah…”

So, with a sigh mixed with smoke, I finally accepted his terms.

For the next three years, Hestella would not attack Targiyan’s forces first—I swore by the name of Imelia de Median.

To be honest, while making this oath, I was inwardly expecting Hersella to strongly object…

[Tsk. So weak and pathetic…]

Surprisingly, she merely clicked her tongue in displeasure but didn’t try to stop my decision.

When she didn’t know who had killed her mother, she had been ready to kill anyone suspicious, but now that her enemy had committed suicide in such an anticlimactic way, she seemed to have entered a reflective phase.

“You’ve indeed changed, Lord Haschal.”

Perhaps he hadn’t expected me to agree to his proposal despite offering it himself. Mersin looked quite surprised.

“In the past, you would have considered such a proposal beneath your notice.”

He hadn’t realized that I wasn’t “Aishan-Gioro Haschal,” but he did understand that my personality and ideology had changed dramatically.

“Is that so surprising? You should be grateful. If I hadn’t changed, your head would already be rolling at my feet.”

I tossed my half-smoked mana herb at him like garbage and told him to get lost in a sharp tone.

See you in three years.

If you’re still alive by then.

—-

Mersin kept his promise. At least this time.

As agreed, we stayed in place for two days without marching, and on the evening of the second day, we received a massive amount of provisions.

“Food, food!”

“Are we… finally going to survive…?”

It was enough to feed all the starving refugees for days and still have some left over.

After finishing our meal, we resumed our march.

Until the provisions ran out again.

And then…

“We’ve finally arrived… took longer than I expected.”

“That’s because you did something reckless, miss.”

At last, the Wall of Berengaria, towering dozens of meters high, welcomed us back.

—-

Hestella’s administration was screaming under the sudden workload bomb. The reason was obvious—the eighteen hundred refugees I had brought with me.

Securing land to accommodate eighteen hundred people. Construction of facilities for them to live in. Personal background checks on each one.

Budget allocation for food, clothing, and various consumer goods, issuing statements to suppress the backlash from existing residents, and deploying security forces.

Even though they hadn’t even established the basic framework for an education plan to integrate them into Hestella, they were already overwhelmed.

Why am I talking about it like it’s someone else’s problem?

Because it is someone else’s problem.

Wasn’t it for this very reason that I appointed Eleonora as regent and Lamber as prime minister to handle these matters in my place?

My only job was to read the final proposals they brought me and send them back with notes on any parts I didn’t like.

The actual administrative work was, of course, to be handled by the administrative officials under their command, not by me.

From the administrators’ perspective, this was an outrage that made them see yellow and nurture rebellious thoughts…

“If you’re upset, you should have flown to the east and fought in our place.”

Compared to the knights who risked their lives in battle, their work was incomparably comfortable—like a vacation.

At least they wouldn’t get stabbed or burned to death. They should be grateful for that much.

“Right?”

“You’re lucky your body can’t be pierced by swords. Otherwise, you would have been assassinated before the end of the year.”

Frider shook her head in disbelief and sneered. As if she wasn’t just lounging around next to me.

“Sister needs to rest! She fought hard!”

Lena, sitting on my right, defended me against Frider.

“Um… sister? This word correct? Anyway, that statement true.”

Imara, sitting on my left, agreed in broken western language.

“I swear, this is ridiculous…”

Frider looked at us with an expression that said it was hopeless and sighed, but that wouldn’t change anything.

Including me, it was three against one. My innocence had been declared by majority vote.