Alliance Just This Once

Eira's grandfather, the former lord of Bostain territory, was a man of the North in both the best and worst senses. He valued strength above all else, which made him frustratingly rigid at times, but he understood his duties better than anyone.

'If I take one step back, a hundred allies die. Even if I die, if those hundred grow stronger than me, it's not defeat.' True to his word, he drove his sword into the heart of a mighty monster to buy time for his territory, sacrificing himself—and thanks to that, Bostain survived.

Seeing her grandfather's body frozen in ice, Eira didn't feel helplessness; instead, resolve began to well up within her.

"What do you want to do?"

Suhyun asked after stowing the polar bear's entire corpse in his inventory. Eira's mind raced. Having promised to become Suhyun's in exchange for him exterminating the monster horde threatening Bostain, she now had to think for him.

Desperately racking her brain for a way that would benefit Suhyun while helping her homeland, Eira came up with a good plan.

"We could demand significant territorial rights from Bostain in exchange for returning Grandfather's body. And if they grant those rights to me, I could get even more."

Handing rights to a complete stranger would face more resistance than giving them to kin, and it would reduce backlash from the locals. Eira's influence wasn't strong among the upper class, but among the common folk, it was considerable. While most of her family focused on central politics over Bostain, helping the territory had mostly fallen to her—and as a result, the majority of the people supported her.

In a class-based society, commoners' support didn't carry much weight on its own, but add a fair share of equity, and things changed.

Suhyun was taken aback by Eira's suggestion to use her grandfather's body as leverage to seize prime rights and gradually take over the territory.

"You'd go that far?"

Just moments ago, she'd been weeping over the body; now she was talking about using it to gain favors. Suhyun voiced his concern.

"It's for the people of the territory—even better if you hold onto it, sir."

--------

Suhyun had no thoughts on political matters. They say a dull head means a body suffers, but a strong body means no need for a sharp head. Politics mostly revolved around distributing limited resources among many, but Suhyun rarely faced such issues.

Even in the mage tower, he lived alone. As a mercenary, his prowess as a mage put him at the top of every allocation, exempting him from infighting over shares. And since he solved problems with magic anyway, he had little need for politics—and so he left it all to Daiyen.

"Is this really okay, ma'am?"

Using her grandfather's body to wrest territorial rights was high-level political maneuvering, so Eira sought Suhyun's opinion—only for him to hand her off to Daiyen and leave. Flustered, she asked Daiyen.

"Anyone else might run into trouble, but for Suhyun with that power and Nautilus? It's just a nuisance."

Most people agonized over politics because they lacked power or money. Suhyun had power in spades, and with Nautilus alone, even an idiot wouldn't run short on cash.

Realizing this, Eira was impressed.

"Even so, trusting others isn't easy. You're remarkable, ma'am."

Daiyen felt a twinge of irritation at the praise for Suhyun. She liked hearing others compliment him, but not from Eira. Was it the difference between someone envying her possession and someone coveting it? Pushing down her emotions, Daiyen smiled and pulled out her blueprint for Nautilus's development.

"Nautilus is an enormous mobile asset."

"I know that much, ma'am."

"No, you don't grasp its scale yet."

When Daiyen unrolled the map, Eira doubted her eyes. The areas she'd thought vast inside Nautilus were less than a hundredth of its total—and considering the height, they were mere specks.

"Is the scale accurate?"

"Measured by magic, so yes."

Overwhelmed by Nautilus's size—big enough to relocate Bostain's capital outright—Eira was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠speechless.

"I plan to have Nautilus recognized as a full territory."

Eira's eyes sharpened at Daiyen's bombshell.

"Is there legal precedent in imperial law?"

"Imperial law allows undeveloped, unclaimed land to become a territory if it develops a sufficient population, defenses, and production."

Daiyen showed a transcribed section of imperial territory law. Eira read it over, pondering.

"No direct precedent, and interpretation varies, but it's possible."

She'd studied law as noble etiquette at the academy and discussed real imperial statutes with the imperial princess. She saw potential in Daiyen's argument.

"There's precedent treating a trade ship's interior as an extension of its home territory."

"Exactly. Expand that to deem mobile Nautilus its own sovereign land, and we can run it as a territory."

Daiyen's original plan was a slow build: cultivate ties with noble houses over years to gather power. Interpretations hinged on the speaker's influence, and once Nautilus went public, greedy nobles would swarm—so they needed one-shot success.

For that, Daiyen had devised a meticulous, ruthless strategy: make territories dependent on Nautilus, then threaten to abandon them unless ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠recognized as a barony. With near-infinite transport capacity, it wasn't impossible; Eira rated it highly feasible.

"And with a little help from the princess, we could speed it up."

"Yes, exactly."

It was as if fate aligned: visiting Chromore for construction timber led them to Bostain, where they aided Eira and recovered the former lord's body. Like the gods themselves were helping—or perhaps some deity backed Suhyun.

Standing beside a divinely favored man—and becoming his woman—was the ultimate opportunity for a noble lady.

"Shall we discuss how to extract those rights?"

"Hee-hee! For Suhyun, we'll take everything we can, ma'am!"

Power, wealth, and authority? Suhyun would be the perfect match. A flicker of allure passed through Eira's eyes; Daiyen saw it but stayed silent.

Two predators eyeing the same prey joined hands—for now—to claim it.

----

"Gah... huff!"

Black Dog—the black mage's former subordinate, now named Heukgu—panted raggedly. Soaked in sweat like he'd been dunked in water, his body trembled like a newborn fawn's legs.

Suhyun just wanted to slack off. With little time for magic research amid constant outings, he needed fighters in his stead. But feeling guilty if they got hurt led him to seek those he wouldn't pity—and the rehabilitation gang came to mind.

Having committed sins under the black mage, they were perfect. Even from modern Earth, where human rights were sacred, Suhyun saw them as luxuries for hardened criminals. He decided to repurpose the gang.

Thus, he began teaching them martial arts.

Though he'd created martial ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠arts himself, no one else had learned them yet. Tailored for himself, he didn't know their efficacy for others. Made without considering trainees, he tested lightly on the gang—and got a quest.

From then on, the gang plunged into hell.

Suhyun's martial arts involved accumulating mana in the body and transmuting parts into mana organs. Remodeling the lower abdomen into a mana reservoir (dantian), creating channels from it, linking them to mana organs, and reproducing techniques—that was the essence.

Unlike knight training—brutally flooding the body with mana, destroying and regenerating to adapt—it was far more efficient: tear and heal surgically.

Very efficient, but Suhyun hadn't considered the trainee's pain. Even minor organ twists could kill via shock; vivisecting the body alive defied imagination.

"Gaaahhh!"

Heukgu, broken everywhere from brutal exercise—too exhausted to scream from finger-prodding—shrieked as his dantian formed.

"Endure it. They say blessings come to those who do."

To pierce body, mind, and soul with the dantian, Suhyun depleted Heukgu's mana first. Success meant Heukgu tasted excruciating agony without even fainting. Even Judgment's mana lightened his sins a bit.

"Ugh... what's this?"

Heukgu felt the odd sensation in his gut and rose per Suhyun's command.

"That's your dantian."

"Dantian?"

"Think of it as storage for mana to use martial arts."

"And martial arts is...?"

"This."

Suhyun's internal energy burst from his palm, filling the air with fluttering petals. From dantian to palm, passing 17 mana organs, the palm technique birthed them. Heukgu gaped.

A petal grazed the sandbag for training; it bounced to another, ricocheting wildly until the chain snapped, flinging it far away.

"Isn't that martial arts?"

"Martial arts are special abilities from specific training," Suhyun shook his head at the mention. "This is a technique."

"?"

"Know any martial arts?"

"Bone Cracker."

"Show me."

"On what?"

Suhyun pulled out a hunted monster; Heukgu swung. Not bone-shattering force, yet the dead beast's bones cracked.

"Bone Cracker probably requires breaking lots of bones."

"Yes. Fill a leather sack with unbroken bones, strike barehanded till they shatter."

The most common, easy-to-learn martial art—weak, for untrained street thugs. People had limits on learnable arts; deep-rooted clans/dojos selected rigorously—that was their strength.

"Martial arts demand special conditions to acquire and unleash power only within them."

"Ah, yes: animal bones, ones you've broken before, target without mana adaptation."

"Martial arts have no such limits."

"So martial arts are better, huh?"

Suhyun chuckled at Heukgu's flattery praising martial arts.

"Who knows?"

Suhyun used martial arts too. Nord's Harpoon to slay Aspidochelon (Nautilus's material) defied magic/martial replication with its causality-reversing pursuit. In niches, martial arts excelled—but lacked versatility, best supplemented by martial arts.

He didn't explain. Heukgu had to learn; no choices.

"Ready to learn?"

Suhyun wanted the quest done fast for the new skill—and cracked the whip on Heukgu.