The Female Collection Campaign — Harem Superpower (1)

"Nngh… This is humiliating!!"

"Your Majesty, please, calm yourse—"

The handmaiden tried to stop her, but Cleopatra hurled the wine glass anyway. The jealousy was eating her alive. She couldn't just sit there and swallow it.

It was because of the Persian merchant she'd run into that morning.

The woman had been about to pass Cairo right by, which was strange enough that Cleopatra had stopped her and asked where she thought she was going.

"Ah, my apologies, Pharaoh. Everything we want is in Jordan now."

That was the gut-punch of an answer she got — and then the merchant had the nerve to pull a full-on Egypt-pass.

These were the same Persian bitches who'd been trading with Egypt since the day Cleopatra took the throne. And this was how they repaid her?

Seething, she'd pressed the merchant like she was owed an explanation.

"What could you possibly need that's worth going all the way to Jordan? Cairo has everything!"

"Your Majesty. Egypt doesn't have marble."

"That's…! Why does Persia even need marble?"

The answer that came back left her stunned.

"Zoroastrianism is still the mainstream, but… Hannamism has been spreading through the cities on Persia's far frontier lately."

"Hannamism? You mean that cult that preaches men are superior to women? Don't tell me—"

"With all due respect, I would be most grateful if you'd drop the word 'cult,' Pharaoh…. Just as Your Majesty serves Isis, I simply follow the teachings of Hannam."

Which was why they needed the marble.

The Persian merchant's eyes had gone sharp as axe-blades.

"The limestone Egypt produces is far too soft… it's simply not suitable for sculpting Hannam's hard, erect cock."

"Hmph! Don't you know the pyramids were built from limestone?"

"Your Majesty, I am not dismissing Egypt's accomplishments. I am merely saying that sturdy marble is better suited than crumbly limestone for carving a straight, rock-hard giant-cock statue."

With that, the Persian merchant left Cairo and headed for Jordan.

Rumor had it her face was radiant on the trip home, marble in tow.

That was why a thriving trade network mattered. You didn't even need to send missionaries — a religion would ride the trade routes straight into another civilization all on its own.

At this rate, Egypt is going to collapse!

Cleopatra wasn't gunning for a religious victory, but she wanted Hannamism contained. The doctrine her own faith had adopted was the reason.

Egypt was so thoroughly plastered with religious buildings and social policies that Hannamism devouring it was never a real threat. The problem had always been the neighboring countries with no native faith of their own, or ones that simply didn't care about religion. Those were the ones whose merchants trotted in and out of Jordan, cheerfully hauling Hannamism home with them.

Zanzibar, the city-state that had once worshipped Egypt's sun god Ra, now had towering erect cock-statues planted on every street corner. They still maintained friendly relations with Egypt, sure — but when it came to religion, they wanted to choose for themselves?

"……."

There was no justification for forcing them back to the sun god. Cleopatra could have mass-produced missionaries and flooded the continent with Egypt's faith, of course —

Except Hannamguk can do the exact same thing.

This was Han Min-guk they were talking about. The man who hadn't just converted the entire Greek civilization to Hannamism — he'd brainwashed Helen, priestess of the goddess Athena, into a trained sex slave. Even if Egypt went blow-for-blow in a missionary rush, there was no guarantee they'd win.

"I still can't just let this stand…!"

Jordan becoming a trade hub had already bled Egypt of a fortune. That was painful enough on its own — but if the Tithe income started shrinking too?

Egypt could lose the initiative entirely. Massive economic power was what had driven the civilization's growth all this time.

"Lady Cleopatra… are you certain we're allowed to accept this money?"

"I heard the floods washed your people's homes away. Rebuild the city first. You can pay me back slowly."

She'd been donating gold to struggling city-states to build friendship. A little money going out at the start, sure — but once the relationship warmed up, those city-states would eventually provide far bigger bonuses. A profitable venture in the long run. They didn't even shy away from military cooperation.

"See? All of this is the grace of the goddess Isis."

"Th-that's right! The goddess of the Nile truly is magnificent!"

Spreading the faith among friendly nations was easy. The more it spread, the more the Tithe income grew, the richer Egypt became, and the more that wealth funded even more advantageous diplomacy — a virtuous cycle that had built Egypt into what it was today.

"What will you do, Pharaoh…?"

"I'm not just going to sit on my hands. Obviously."

That was why the queen's pretty face had twisted the way it had.

Every achievement Cleopatra had built, every blessing the Nile had ever bestowed upon Egypt — all of it was about to vanish because of that civilization with the pathetic name.

Of course, Egypt's army wasn't larger than Hannamguk's, and its science wasn't more advanced either. Even if she made the reckless move of breaking the peace treaty, she'd probably get demolished. Neighboring civilizations would condemn her, and Egypt's standing on the diplomatic stage would crater.

But it wasn't as though Cleopatra was out of cards to play.

Egypt's queen still had plenty of friends.

"That cunt-bitch is getting real cocky, huh?"

I snorted the second I read the message on my status window. The letter Zanzibar had sent was something else.

The same bitches who'd just converted to Hannamism? Out of nowhere?

When a city-state pulled a sudden backstab, figuring out who was behind it was the important part.

"Cleopatra."

"Cleopatra, that cunt-bitch…!"

I said it from the throne, and my strategist — crouched between my legs — said it at the exact same time. I gestured for her to start sucking again, and Hyo-jung promptly wrapped her mouth around my cock.

"Schluuurp. Churp, churp."

Getting my cock serviced by her mouth-pussy really did clear my head….

One of these days I ought to turn Cleopatra into a bitch like this too.

Well. I've got no shortage of methods.

The play Egypt had chosen wasn't a manly frontal fight. It was the classic bitch strategy: isolate one friend through backchannel gossip and freeze them out. No matter how juicy the Jordan trade was, Zanzibar wasn't going to throw away everything they'd built with Egypt that easily.

"Gulp. Haaah…. Still, breaking the peace treaty would be a problem, my Lord."

Hyo-jung had a point. I'd signed that peace treaty with Egypt specifically so I could grow Jordan without worrying. Break the promise and hit Egypt, and I'd eat a warmonger penalty far worse than if I'd just started a regular war.

I stacked up way too much karma devouring Athens. Not the time.

I was confident I could take them militarily, but if I ended up the pariah of the continent, it'd bite me later. Think about it. I hit Egypt, and then a city-state or civilization buddy-buddy with Cleopatra ambushes Hannamguk from the opposite border? I'd have to split my forces. Nobody's a master of getting picked apart one piece at a time.

So staying close with the surrounding city-states and civilizations was the smarter play. Once the warmonger penalty cooled off, I could march into Egypt and rape Cleopatra without much blowback… just not right now.

"But if we leave Zanzibar alone, the other cities will follow soon enough!"

"They will. Plenty of the smaller civilizations and city-states still lean on Egypt."

"Even if we have to force it… shouldn't we go to war, my Lord? If Jordan shrinks back down after everything we poured into it, that'd be such a waste."

Hyo-jung was half right. Thanks to Petra, Jordan would eat well and live well even without trade — but without merchants pouring in the way they were now, it would never become a truly great city.

And I wanted Jordan to be one of the cities that carried Hannamguk forward. The potential was more than there.

"Muster the army in Hanseong, Hyo-jung."

"Really?"

"You're the one who said we should fight. Why are you the one freaking out?"

"Well… now that we're actually doing it, it's a little scary."

Hyo-jung seemed to be worrying herself sick over our civilization's future. That gloomy little face was so cute I wanted to pull her into a hug. Of course, if I got worked up doing that, we'd end up having filthy sex in the middle of the afternoon. Pregnancy ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and childbirth thrown in as a bonus.

"Don't worry so much."

I stroked the ass of the girl with her head hanging and offered what comfort I could.

"Just because we're marching an army over there doesn't mean a war has to break out."

Lela, queen of the city-state of Zanzibar, had been sunk in deep worry lately.

Ever since Cleopatra applied the pressure, she'd been forced to sell her spices to Egypt and Egypt alone. Selling to Jordan was far more profitable.

"Haa…. It's not like we can pick a fight with Cleopatra."

Lela folded her arms beneath her ample chest and muttered to herself. After the beautiful-girl patch, she boasted the looks of a fantasy dark elf — the only thing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠human about her was the rounded ears. She'd always had a bit of a sad puppy-dog face, and today she looked even more miserable than usual.

Even at a loss, Zanzibar had to protect its relationship with Egypt. A militarily weak city-state without Cleopatra's backing would get raided like a dog by every neighboring power.

Still, Rome and China were the decent ones. They shook you down for protection money, but they didn't trash the place.

And the second you looked like an easy mark, the neighboring city-states picked fights too. They'd invent every excuse under the sun to storm into the city and loot everything that wasn't nailed down. With wars breaking out this often, Zanzibar's population had done nothing but shrink.

Fewer people meant not enough production. Not enough production meant you couldn't raise an army…. A Zanzibar without people had a future as dark as a boarded-up window.

"From this day forward, Egypt will protect Zanzibar."

Everything had changed the day Cleopatra issued that declaration ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of protection. Braindead barbarians still showed up to raid now and then, but at least the great powers like China had stopped shaking them down. Becoming a friend of Egypt had turned Zanzibar into a city that was actually livable.

"Your Majesty, the treasury is going to hit rock bottom at this rate!"

But they were poorer than before. Cleopatra had casually threatened them into cutting the trade route to Jordan — and Egypt wasn't even paying fair price for the spices Zanzibar sold. Egypt couldn't collect the Tithe anymore either, so their economy was struggling, or so they claimed. Nothing to be done, apparently.

"Haa… I know. But what choice do we have? Without Egypt, we're nothing."

Depending on another civilization was a miserable thing. There had never been such a thing as a free lunch to begin with.

Lela let out a defeated sigh — and that was when it happened.

BWOOOOOOM—!!

A trumpet blast split the air, and beyond the horizon an army came marching into view. The sight of it was so terrifying that fear hit Lela before anything else.

The vanguard was a Phalanx — the special unit levied from Macedon. Directly behind them came the Crossbowmen who had shattered chariot archers. On both flanks, a proud cavalry force came clattering closer.

"Don't tell me that's the Hannam army…?"

"It would appear so, Your Majesty."

Hadn't they signed a peace treaty with Egypt? Was this Hannam character reckless enough to break that sacred promise and attack a city under a great power's protection?

"Could be."

Han Min-guk was already standing in front of Lela. Zanzibar's garrison — thin on numbers, technology, and will — had given up defending, so he'd walked into the palace without spilling a single drop of blood.

"Th-this pussy-bitch will kneel respectfully."

"The hell are you talking about?"

"I heard that in Hannamguk, a woman — no, a female — is supposed to greet her lord this way…"

Lela carefully thunked her forehead against the floor. She flung her skirt aside before she even dropped into the full prostration, leaving her hourglass figure completely exposed.

"You're a horny little bitch, aren't you."

"Thank you, Lord Cock…."

Han Min-guk, however, carefully pulled Lela back to her feet. He hadn't come here to conquer Zanzibar in the first place.

Why would I stack another warmonger karma point? Annex her and I lose the city-state bonuses too.

Making them a friendly nation was the better play. That was why Han Min-guk had brought a whole army.

"…Excuse me? What do you mean, Lord Cock?"

"Ditch Cleopatra and take my protection instead."

Hannamguk was a great power sitting on three major cities — Hanseong, Athens, and Jordan. The wealth and resources those three produced, each of them over population 20, were enormous. The army still couldn't match China in raw numbers, but the Crossbowmen's firepower was nothing to sneeze at.

"Those barbarian camps are still giving you trouble, yeah?"

"Huh? Y-yes, they are, Lord Cock…."

"Hannamguk will clear them out for you. And we'll keep doing it."

So become my protectorate, Han Min-guk told the dark elf still bowed before him.

It was a tempting offer, she had to admit. A Hannamguk that could boast national power on par with Egypt… Zanzibar could trust and lean on a civilization like that. And more than anything, being able to trade with Jordan again was huge.

Nngh…. Just like what Egypt did to us… we'll end up a vassal that hands over everything of value again.

Lela harbored that suspicion inwardly, but the answer had already been decided. They could call it a "proposal" of protection all they wanted — in practice, it was a threat to become a vassal state.

"Please, protect frail little Zanzibar, Lord Hannam."

Having finished misunderstanding the situation, Lela promptly assumed the manners of a vassal. Han Min-guk, for his part, had something else entirely in mind.

"I'm not telling you to become a vassal, Lela."

"What? Then…."

Annex Zanzibar and you lose the bonuses a commercial city-state provides. So they had to be made a friendly nation… but barging into the palace at the head of an army didn't exactly give you a pretext for building rapport.

"What?!"

"Join my harem. As my second wife."

A political marriage, as they say.

Even Egypt wouldn't dare brand a Lela pregnant with Han Min-guk's child a traitor. What was so wrong about a wife getting along with her husband?

Not merely a friendly nation — a protectorate that Hannam himself would personally look after. From now on, nobody would be able to complain about a "dark-elf girl" merchant showing up in Jordan.

Even a Hannam protects his own females.