FSW Chapter 9

Omens

This bleak, cold space always turned her stomach. She hated this conference room—opened only for meetings—even more than the Emperor's office with its towering stacks of documents and complete absence of human warmth.

'No, maybe it's the people I hate, not the place.'

In the conference room where state councils convened with ministers in attendance, human scent vibrated through the air—the opposite of the office. Greedy, selfish, incompetent. An overwhelmingly human smell.

"Given the gravity of the matter, we absolutely cannot back down."

"Then are you suggesting we wage war?"

The voices traded back and forth, growing progressively louder, drumming against her skull. Nishina clenched her fists, barely suppressing the urge to cover her ears. She wanted to scream at them to be quiet. But Nishina had no right to speak.

And the same was true for Aiden in the seat beside her. Neither of them were officially designated heirs yet, nor were they adults, so they lacked formal speaking privileges. They were merely forced to observe these meetings semi-compulsorily, on the grounds that they mustn't remain ignorant of political affairs.

Aiden also seemed far from pleased with the tedious, noisy armchair theorizing. His mood, uncomfortable from the moment he'd entered, had now sunk to a temperature where ice might drip from it at any moment.

"The envoy we dispatched for appeasement hasn't returned for ten days now. And in this situation, to receive such an absurd ultimatum! This is clearly a provocation against our Empire!"

Count Skophe shouted, his face flushed crimson. Attending as the representative of a family governing border territory, he declared firmly that he wouldn't shy from war. The reason for this emergency summons, the reason they were all so heated, was singular: the messenger who'd arrived just yesterday from the Wind Empire.

Their demand was simple.

Mining yields of magic stones had decreased, making it difficult to fulfill the usual trade quantities. However, if your side would hand over 10% of the Dryad Forest, we'd fill the trade quota despite the loss.

A transparent threat. Surely a ploy to turn that 10% into 100% eventually. The ministers' reactions to this outrageous demand split broadly into two camps.

The central nobles who stood to lose much if war broke out argued—though displeased—that ceding part of the forest was better.

However, the families from regions adjacent to the border and those loyal to the imperial house pushed back, insisting they must repay the Empire's humiliation, including all the provocations at the border thus far.

"Exactly! There's no reason for mining yields to suddenly drop when the mines are perfectly intact. They're clearly scheming because invading the northern border is too difficult!"

"But if magic stone imports are cut off immediately, the problem will escalate!"

Wind and Snow had exchanged fixed quantities of magic stones and grain annually for years. Over 70% of all magic stone production came from the Wind Empire.

While spirit practitioners provided various conveniences in multiple locations, most ordinary people without access to spirit power relied on magic stones for daily life.

Cutting off the magic stone trade, so deeply embedded in commoners' lives, would surely deal a blow. Wind was using that fact as leverage for their threat.

But to exchange it for the spirit forest, of all things.

The Snow Empire was called a land blessed by spirits.

The southern regions remained perpetually fertile with earth spirits dwelling there; the great river tended by water spirits never ran dry; and the eastern harbor where wind spirits played enabled easier trade with its moderate climate free from natural disasters.

The Empire's citizens gave thanks for this spirit care and regarded the Dryad Forest—the spirits' resting place—as sacred. That was why they left the resource-rich forest entirely untouched. But if they handed over ownership now, the forest would be completely destroyed. Just like the portions they currently possessed.

"Desecrating the spirit forest is problematic, but they'll use it as a foothold to demand more and more land. They might even be planning military demonstrations! We absolutely cannot permit this!"

"That's an overreach! Certainly it would be problematic if they laid hands on the forest, but we need to protect the Empire's citizens first. War is better avoided—or if unavoidable, delayed as long as possible!"

Dargan's brow furrowed at the tense standoff of opinions. Neither side was wrong. They simply valued different things.

"This isn't something that can be solved by delaying! If we accept this proposal, it will return as an even greater threat in the future!"

"Even a cornered rat will bite a cat. If their mood sours and they start a war immediately, who will take command?"

"Obviously His Majesty would—"

"Negotiations with the Rain Kingdom are right around the corner! His Majesty cannot leave his post now."

The Teyl Continent contained four kingdoms besides the two empires. Though the kingdoms possessed less than half an empire's territory, the moment any single kingdom was absorbed by the opposing empire, the balance between the two empires would collapse.

The reason Wind with its military might and Snow with its wealth maintained this standoff without major war was precisely because they'd preserved that balance well.

Therefore the Empire needed to be sensitive about surrounding kingdoms. The Emperor's political marriage to Empress Kiyonné, Aiden's mother, had been entirely for this purpose.

The Rain Kingdom, Empress Kiyonné's homeland, was the only one of the four kingdoms that bordered both Wind and Snow. Moreover, it was geographically positioned at the continent's center.

Seizing Rain would increase the possibility of advancing into other kingdoms. The previous emperors, recognizing its importance, had maintained friendly relations through agreements. The current Emperor had sealed the pact through marriage, but now that she was dead, new negotiations were necessary.

"Envoys are scheduled to visit in a few months! We absolutely cannot have problems arise before then."

"I acknowledge His Majesty cannot leave during such a critical matter, but surely His Majesty needn't personally—"

"But wouldn't it be unreasonable for the still-young Prince or Princess to take command!"

It wasn't unusual for a prince or princess to lead war in the Emperor's stead, but the problem was their ages.

Considering that apprentice knights were fourteen to sixteen years old, they weren't too young to take the field. However, the weight of being an individual soldier versus the weight of being supreme commander differed vastly. They were ages thoroughly insufficient to shoulder tens of thousands of lives.

But...

Nishina, who'd been keeping her mouth shut in silence, cautiously raised her hand.

"Your Majesty, may I speak briefly?"

"Permission granted."

"Though we haven't undergone our coming-of-age ceremonies, we're not too young to fulfill our duties as imperial family. Both myself and my brother are prepared to take responsibility whenever necessary."

She hadn't asked Aiden's opinion, but he surely thought the same. In the original work, he'd departed for the battlefield without hesitation the moment war broke out.

Besides, Nishina already knew. Though this provocation hadn't been mentioned in the original, the demand would likely be rejected.

The forest where she met her death was precisely the Dryad Forest. Since she'd never crossed the border in her lifetime, it meant that at least until her death, the forest's owner remained the Snow Empire.

And war wouldn't break out immediately either. The Prince had departed for war around the time he turned eighteen. Aiden was currently sixteen. They had at least two years' leeway.

"Prince, do you share this view?"

When Dargan asked in a low voice, that noisy space fell silent in an instant. All those eyes that had been glaring at each other turned toward him. Though the gaze mixing expectation and distrust should have been burdensome, he showed no wavering whatsoever.

"If commanded, I am prepared to shoulder my duty at any time."

The indifferent tone, unchanged as always, was quintessentially Aiden. She'd thought he would surely say exactly this. His answer would be the same now as it would be in two years. But the Emperor likely wouldn't think so.

In the original work, he'd clicked his tongue at his departing son, saying it was obvious he was reluctant. She wanted the Emperor to understand that his actions stemmed not purely from being pushed by circumstances, but from the noble will befitting imperial family.

She wanted him to understand, even slightly, how well-suited he was for the throne. That's why she'd requested to speak when she needn't have. At Aiden's firm answer, Dargan wore a momentarily peculiar expression but soon hardened his face as he looked around at his vassals.

"My children speak thus. Do you have more to say?"

The mouths of the nobles who'd openly declared it unreasonable to their faces clamped shut. They looked full of things to say, but the one who spoke instead was the Prime Minister, who'd been silent until now. Handing the Emperor a thick stack of documents he'd brought, he spoke in a voice containing not a speck of emotion.

"I will speak while excluding sentiment and facing only reality. Immediate war would be a great loss for the Empire. Military expenditure alone uses 400 billion miro annually. Approximately 40% of the nation's yearly budget. If war begins, we'll need more than double that amount."

"Furthermore, according to reports, the casualties from the conflict at the border region two years ago far exceeded a thousand. If it escalates to full-scale war, we'll suffer unbearable damage this time."

"So you're saying we should grovel to avoid war now?"

The Emperor's eyes, which had been looking down at the documents, turned fierce. But the Prime Minister continued calmly.

"If we hand over the forest as they demand, the probability of war occurring within the next five years drops below 30%."

At this assertion, the nobles who'd been keeping their mouths shut nodded vigorously. For the Prime Minister—that paragon of neutrality—to take their side! Their heads grew stiff with this unexpectedly sturdy ally. But their momentum didn't last long.

Receiving the opposition's blatant, uncomfortable glares with composure, the Prime Minister added:

"However, war will break out within ten years with 100% certainty."

The reason he could guarantee so confidently that war would absolutely occur within ten years was that the Wind Empire's current state was considerably cornered. Nishina recalled David's lessons.

The Wind Empire, unlike Snow, had rivers that dried easily when drought came, and the land was uneven, making it unsuitable for farming. They managed to maintain the Empire through magic stones, ore, and coal from their abundant mines, but even that had become precarious as desertification progressed.

The problem that had intensified as they rapidly lost land was undoubtedly food shortage. The food shortage became the foundation for a powerful military state, but simultaneously disrupted the nation's discipline.

In the Wind Empire, becoming a soldier meant at least not starving. Therefore volunteers increased, and naturally military strength grew. And they survived by exchanging—practically plundering—food from neighboring countries using this as their greatest weapon.

But mines were consumable resources. Moreover, starving people were transforming into plunderers, and the country was becoming a mess. The reason for the persistent conflicts at the border in recent years was precisely this.

Especially after Hvahn, Wind's current emperor, ascended the throne, the turmoil had intensified. With his violent temperament, he would surely rush in without hesitating at extreme methods.

The incident two years ago, and now this absurd demand—all were merely preliminary skirmishes. Starting with seizing the forest, he'd begin in earnest.

The Prime Minister shrugged his shoulders, not even bothering with the nobles wearing expressions of betrayal, and soon delivered his conclusion.

"Therefore, the judgment rests with Your Majesty."

In the end, judgment was the monarch's burden.

At this conclusion, all the vassals fell silent. Though they'd eagerly expressed their opinions, they all agreed with the Prime Minister's conclusion. The Emperor rubbed his thoroughly exhausted face and released a deep sigh.

"For today, we'll conclude the meeting here."

Faced with a difficult problem, he chose postponement over hasty judgment. Not the best answer, but the optimal one.