Ch.968Hashar Needs Money.

“It’s been a while, Your Majesty Queen of Astica. Thank you for your assistance.”

As I was washing off the blood on my body by pouring water over my head, Perseval, who had descended in a small airship, greeted me with a respectful bow and expressed his gratitude.

“Yes, it has been a while.”

I greeted him while wringing out my soaking wet hair.

It was somewhat fascinating to see how much stronger he had become since I last saw him. That arrogant knight who used to survive on rye bread had now become a powerful warrior who had crossed the threshold.

The Tale of Heros he awakened was useless in one-on-one combat, making him perhaps the weakest among heroes… but still, his basic capabilities seemed quite impressive.

If fighting without using Tale of Heros, he could probably win five or six times out of ten against Nigel without his sacred artifact.

Well, considering he’s been rushing out to serve as a human shield whenever a dragon appeared in the Empire, he must have desperately built up his strength or he would have died dozens of times over.

That’s a good thing. In times like these, the stronger our allies become, the better.

I had been worried that the Empire’s defensive capabilities had significantly weakened after my independence, but it seemed I could rest easy for the time being.

At least, the possibility of half the country burning to ashes and facing destruction from a single dragon seemed unlikely.

“Does your presence here mean… you’re heading to the islands to meet with His Majesty the Emperor? If so, we could escort you—”

“No, if I were going to Extrashafel, I wouldn’t have brought an airship in the first place. I’m just stopping by on my way.”

I slightly shook my head, declining Perseval’s offer to escort us to the islands.

Normally, I might have visited to see how Leopold was doing, but this time, I had neither the leisure nor the time to meet him.

What I wanted from the current imperial army was just one thing: to open the way for us to attack Alvheim.

I’m not sure if the concept of “airspace” exists in the current Empire, but if it does, they wouldn’t just stand by and watch a foreign airship invade their airspace.

Even if it belonged to a strong allied nation.

“Ah, are you on your way to participate in the Holy State’s war? I hope we haven’t delayed your schedule.”

Of course, Perseval didn’t seem to have such concerns. Seeing how willingly he was letting a foreign war machine that had crossed the border without notice pass through.

“Well… something like that.”

I nodded while keeping my answer vague. Technically, I was going to participate in the Holy State’s war.

Though not to support the border conflict between the Holy State and Alvheim as Perseval assumed, but to launch an assault on Alvheim’s mainland itself.

It seemed better not to mention that. If that information leaked and reached Alvheim, it could seriously jeopardize our assault operation.

Additionally, I was concerned about how Leopold would react if he heard about our assault plan.

Attacking Alvheim’s mainland with just thirteen forces… frankly speaking, a reckless strategy bordering on insanity.

Leopold, who viewed me as humanity’s hidden card, wouldn’t likely stand by and watch me throw myself into such a dangerous battlefield.

Invading Alvheim’s great forest, which even Carolus the Great couldn’t destroy eight hundred years ago, with just five heroes? It looked like a suicidal act with no chance of success to anyone.

Even the current Leopold, who symbolizes recklessness, would reassess his own intelligence if he learned of this plan, thinking he wasn’t that reckless after all.

Of course, that wouldn’t make a sprout grow in the wasteland.

Anyway, for these reasons, instead of explaining our detailed destination to Perseval, I vaguely answered that we were on our way to help the Holy State.

“I wish you success, Your Majesty Queen of Astica.”

Thanks to this, Perseval thoughtlessly saluted and wished us victory as we prepared to depart westward again.

“Thank you for that. Take care of yourselves too.”

I rose from my seat with a slight smile to express my gratitude. Demian, who had been treating his broken shoulder bone with a healing miracle, also stood up cautiously, watching me.

“Ugh… you said it wouldn’t dislocate…”

Such grumbling. His quiet muttering while exaggerating made me wonder if I should have hit his head instead of his shoulder.

“It didn’t dislocate, did it? Just as I said.”

I chuckled and shrugged. Hadn’t I guaranteed that taking a few hits wouldn’t dislocate Demian’s shoulder?

And that was true.

I’m not lying. Demian’s injury wasn’t a dislocation but a fracture, so his shoulder didn’t dislocate. It just broke a little.

Moreover, it wasn’t even a complex fracture, just a slight crack, so it was barely an injury—just a minor wound.

“We’ll be going now. Is it alright to leave the cleanup to you?”

“Of course. It was our business to begin with.”

I looked up at my airship floating in the air and reawakened the power of Karma of Murder. To rise back into the sky by invoking karma.

Although the power of Karma of Murder had been considerably depleted due to the unplanned battle with the black dragon, it wasn’t so depleted that we couldn’t fly at all.

“Ah, while you’re at it, please tell His Majesty the Emperor this: ask him to convert our share of the black dragon’s corpse into grain or money and send it to us. The kingdom’s finances are in quite poor shape.”

Just before taking off, I turned to Perseval and left a message for Leopold.

Tell your brother that my sister is on the verge of working herself to death due to budget shortages, so if he wants to save his sister’s life, he should turn the dragon’s corpse into money and send it to us.

Hestella was such an impoverished country that we had to give up the dragon’s corpse and receive grain or money instead.

Although the national treasury had been filling up recently, thanks to Feirius, we were now at the point of considering declaring bankruptcy.

Rebuilding the destroyed palace could be postponed, but was the capital only suffering from a destroyed palace?

Facilities that couldn’t be postponed—such as roads, civilian housing, walls, and repairs outside the castle—would empty the barely filled treasury.

We couldn’t even attempt to restore the completely burned fields and pastures.

Additionally, considering the consolation money for the families of the deceased and the relief costs for those who had lost their livelihoods, the situation required an enormous budget.

The Church of Astraea had conducted funerals for the sacrificed ones free of charge and had sold some church assets to create a relief fund, but… that alone had its limits.

To begin with, the church headquarters was also lacking the capacity to support us as they were pouring manpower and resources into the war with Alvheim.

Originally, the donation money I had been receiving for the Holy Maiden’s activities and church expansion was already a considerable amount, so even I found it difficult to demand more on moral grounds.

They would give it if I asked, but that would be like pulling out the church’s foundation pillars and handing them to me.

That would be worse than not receiving anything.

While Hestella’s citizens were suffering from cold and hunger but had already passed the threat to their lives, the people of the Holy State were in a situation where their lives were dancing on the edge of a blade.

If they had funds or resources to send to us, they should first deploy them to the front line. Unless they all wanted to become forest fertilizer.

In other words, the reason Hestella’s citizens were suffering from hunger was also, fundamentally, because of the elves.

So they must be destroyed.

It might be difficult to completely exterminate them, but at the very least, they needed to be castrated as a race so they would never again pose a threat.

Ah, to avoid any misunderstanding, let me clarify that “castration” is merely a metaphorical expression, not to be taken literally.

I’m not some Ophelia-level madwoman who would cut off the third leg of all male elves or make the entire elven race infertile to euthanize them as a species.

My goal wasn’t such a gloomy and grotesque racial extermination policy, but to eliminate the strengths of the elven race itself, relegating their racial standing to the bottom.

By killing their god.

By burning that enormous tree, the World Tree, to ashes.

The power of elves stems entirely from the blessing of the World Tree.

Once the World Tree is burned, they will lose their spirits, have the weakest physical abilities among all races, and even their lifespan will greatly decrease.

According to Perne, after the World Tree disappears, the current generation of elves might still live for about eight hundred years, but elves born afterward would die of old age in at most two hundred years.

Perhaps even shorter.

With that, elves would completely lose their racial competitiveness and inevitably become obsolete. Or, to avoid obsolescence, they might crawl under other races.

Just as wolves, facing the threat of extinction, chose to submit to humans and became dogs.

Well, what the future holds is for the elves to decide.

Whether they become obsolete and disappear or become like dogs and survive, as long as they don’t pose a threat to others, it doesn’t matter to me.

Perhaps they might surprisingly live well. After all, since they can communicate, they’re in a position tens of times more advantageous than dogs.