Chapter 161: Calamity and Talent 5

“Here’s some tea, Lord Santana… No, my love.”

“Thank you, Cazeros… Um… My wife.”

As we addressed each other with spousal titles, Cazeros and I felt our faces flush slightly.

Though several months had passed since our marriage, we still felt a tinge of awkwardness using such appellations.

‘To be honest, it still doesn’t feel quite real.’

Perhaps due to the immense struggles we endured, there were moments when I could scarcely believe she was truly my wife.

Waking each morning to her face, the realization – ‘This woman is my spouse’ – would sometimes seem dreamlike.

We were still utterly ensconced in the blissful newlywed haze.

While I harbored no complaints, eternally savoring each moment with her as if unbelievable bliss, I sensed it was time to accept this reality more naturally.

‘As sweet as this honeymoon phase is, I must gradually turn my attention to other matters…’

Thus far, I had remained in the Dragonian Empire, receiving situation reports and the immense profits from our ‘transactions’ before reinvesting in Dragonian provisions and goods.

However, separate from these favorable developments, I felt the time had come for me to return to Bohemia.

‘Still, as Bohemia’s heir, I cannot remain absent indefinitely. I must also formally introduce Cazeros to my family.’

Those already acquainted with Cazeros would likely struggle to accept this situation initially.

Yet our marriage had already concluded, the ink on our vows fully dried – no impediments remained.

More crucially, apart from revealing the truth, I had many lingering matters in Bohemia demanding my presence.

‘After all, there are limits to managing situations from afar…’

The Holy Imperium rapidly descended into destitution amid the famine.

Meanwhile, observing from a step removed, we reaped profits by selling provisions.

Even now, our Bohemian and Heretical Alliance coffers swelled in real-time with the vast funds procured through these ‘legitimate transactions’ with the Emperor’s forces.

But the true importance lay in how we would utilize this immense wealth.

Previously, Cazeros – the mastermind behind this entire scheme – had posed a question to me:

“While profiting from aiding the hapless is admirable, would it not be strategically wiser in our current situation to step back and allow matters to deteriorate further, rather than selling them provisions?”

An uncharacteristically ruthless suggestion, which even she acknowledged as such.

Yet as one who had fully committed to my cause, her words held merit.

From our perspective, the Holy Imperium’s lords and their subjects were undoubtedly foes.

Though a temporary lull prevailed, they would surely rally their forces against us once circumstances allowed.

While the commercial gains were fortunate, enabling their survival by providing sustenance could be viewed as detrimental to our interests.

Leaving them to starve might better serve our national interests.

However, I had refuted her stance with the following response:

“Certainly, if abandoning them to their plight hastened their downfall, that would be ideal. But my lady, regrettably, the Holy Imperium will not crumble from a mere famine.”

“What?”

Cazeros’s expression betrayed her bewilderment at my words.

Finding her visage rather endearing, I had elaborated:

“I speak literally. Though the Holy Imperium currently suffers tremendous damage from the famine, formidable strength still lies dormant within. The famine may deplete their population somewhat, but the prospects of outright collapse are virtually nil.”

Certainly, a starving, withering populace could grievously harm a nation.

However, I could definitively assert that such circumstances did not directly precipitate its destruction. resilience was more tenacious than imagined – famines did not eradicate entire populations.

While a percentage might perish, given time, recovery was entirely feasible.

Even in my original world, the deranged policies of a dictator had starved 50 million citizens, yet that wound did not trigger national demise.

The famine-stricken Holy Imperium faced a similar predicament.

Though현재 measures seemed lacking, if the Emperor recognized the gravity and acted, ample means existed to mitigate the impact.

Procuring provisions from unaffected regions, negotiating imports from other nations…

With resolve, the Imperium’s suffering could be alleviated, but the current Emperor had yet to demonstrate such intent.

Instead, he merely sought to exploit this crisis politically.

Regardless, even abetting their plight would inflict damage only to a certain extent, given the fundamental power disparity.

Once the famine ended, the Imperium could swiftly recover such losses.

Hence, the opportune course was not passively observing their misfortune, but maximally exploiting the situation to our advantage.

My present endeavor aimed to siphon the Holy Imperium’s collective wealth to our side during this famine period.

Admittedly, they could eventually recoup those losses over time, but we would thereby secure a foothold to reverse the prevailing circumstances.

‘And we must leverage this amassed fortune judiciously – for victory…’

The most fundamental priority was bolstering Bohemia and the Heretical Alliance’s military capabilities.

Training mages, soldiers, and recruiting skilled talents – this endeavor’s immense profits would first be directed toward that end.

Another crucial objective…

Cultivating relations with other nations.

As mentioned, the power gulf between us and the Holy Imperium was immense, rendering our solitary strength insufficient to overcome them.

To compensate, we required the might of other powers, for which I had a formidable candidate in mind – a mighty northern realm.

‘With sufficient funds, unlike the original work, we can secure their allegiance without relying on the Frantzian Kingdom… Minimizing collateral damage in the process.’

As I contemplated this, I automatically envisioned that individual.

The king of the Kalmar Union, whose valor and might resounded across the continent.

The Northern Lion.

Gustaf Adolfus.