Ominous Omens (2)
"Joint training between the Academy and the military, huh..."
Dominique Loop Barhart, Emperor of the Barhart Empire and son of a legendary hero, let out a languid sigh as he stared at the bundle of documents in his hand. Whether something this extravagant could truly be called a mere "bundle" was debatable. It was crafted from the finest calfskin vellum, inscribed with special ink that carried a subtle fragrance, and enchanted with spells to ease the reader's eyes, all for the sake of an overworked emperor. No matter how luxurious the materials or the manufacturing process, the essence remained unchanged.
"What is Your Excellency's opinion?"
"It's nothing more than the petty schemes of brats who don't want their rice bowls taken away."
The man who answered Dominique's question was a middle-aged figure of imposing stature, his full beard and sideburns lending him a commanding presence. His torso was as thick as a log, and the girth of a single arm exceeded that of an average woman's thigh. Without prior knowledge, few would guess that this man served as the Empire's Chancellor. And after witnessing him speak so bluntly in the presence of the Empire's supreme ruler, that already small number would shrink even further.
"Brats? That's rather harsh. They are your juniors, after all, and technically still your subordinates."
"Please, Your Majesty, don't even speak of it. When I first assumed the position of Chancellor, those same men cheered that the age of the military had finally arrived. Yet the moment I refused to cater to their every whim and sided with the civil officials, they branded me a traitor and grumbled endlessly. Even a wife scolding her husband at home doesn't complain half as much."
"If you're that displeased, you should have declined the position when it was offered. You could have remained a central army corps commander and enjoyed harmonious relations with your juniors all this time."
"When the late Emperor personally instructed me, 'Those hot-blooded fools cause incidents at the slightest provocation these days, so keep them in line,' how could I possibly refuse?"
"Hm. I concede the point. After all, when Father commands, one must obey."
The officer recording the exchange from the side broke into a cold sweat, wondering how on earth he could possibly sanitize this conversation that so perfectly exemplified the proper etiquette between sovereign and subject. Meanwhile, the dialogue between Emperor and Chancellor continued.
"Doesn't want their rice bowl taken away, you say. So the military's perception of the Academy truly is quite poor."
"There are those who believe the late Emperor must have had profound reasons for personally overseeing the project, and others who insist on following his will without question. However... the issue ultimately lies in the method."
From the perspective of the Barhart Imperial Army, the Imperial Academy was an inherently awkward existence. They understood the necessity of specialized personnel to subdue the Ivestan Empire and the demonkind backing them. Yet why did the training of such talents require the establishment of an independent institution like the Academy? Was the military not already present?
The lack of clear restrictions on the students honing their abilities there posed another problem. It was one thing to allow talented individuals from outside the Empire to attend upon passing the entrance exam. But in that case, shouldn't graduates at minimum be required to swear an oath to enlist in the Barhart Imperial Army? If they simply took everything the Academy offered and then fled, the Empire would have wasted its resources for nothing.
Of course, this was purely the military's viewpoint. To the Emperor and Chancellor, the situation appeared quite different.
Dominique Loop Barhart gave a wry chuckle.
"In any case, these people have nothing but complaints. If we'd centered the talent development plan on the military, they would have fought tooth and nail over which of the five armies would take the lead."
"That would have been preferable. Students from families already tied to the imperial military or those with connections would have received preferential treatment, while talents from other nations or commoner-born students would have faced discrimination."
As for an enlistment oath? Even Dominique, who readily admitted he lacked passion for governance, could easily predict the chaos that would ensue. The vassal states would see it as the Empire poaching all their promising youths and refuse to cooperate with recruitment. Meanwhile, the Empire's own commoners would recognize the vast difference between "If you have talent, you can rise" and "If you have talent, become a soldier."
"We currently have roughly two hundred Academy students, correct? If we'd done everything their way, we probably couldn't have even filled fifty seats. No matter how elite the minority, at that point it would simply be a mercenary company."
"Even a mercenary company would be better. General Hermit, whom I once served, mentioned that in the past there were mercenary bands numbering in the hundreds whose skills and scale rivaled professional armies. I believe they were called the Brown Wolf Mercenary Group."
"That sounds more like a private army. Still, the fact that you could simply pay them makes them rather more convenient than our current soldiers in some ways."
The pair had spent the past while gleefully carving up the military with their sharp tongues, yet they simultaneously recognized one inescapable truth.
The problem is that even though we know it's a cheap trick, we cannot simply refuse.
If we did, the discontent would only swell further.
The military had merely sought to assist in improving the students' skills and classes in order to support the great late Emperor's vision even a little. So why block them?
Could there be some problem with the condition of the students who were meant to become the swords of humanity?
Naturally, unless they had lost their minds, they could not voice such things openly. It would appear as direct defiance of the imperial family's will. However, subtly undermining the Academy's reputation within the military was entirely possible. They could paint it as a hothouse flower that had never produced proper results, showed poor cooperation with the military, possessed uncertain future prospects, yet devoured an enormous budget.
Whether the claims held any truth was irrelevant. The goal was simply to give military personnel already feeling relative deprivation an easy, understandable target for their resentment.
Of course, both Emperor and Chancellor knew a far simpler solution that would resolve the entire situation at once.
The former Emperor, Ludwig Barhart, who had now stepped back from official duties. If he stepped forward once more to settle matters, everything would conclude neatly.
The current Emperor, Dominique, merely occupied the highest seat among mortals. But the Great Emperor was practically an object of faith to the citizens of the Empire.
...Honestly, I'd love nothing more than to shove all this back at Father and tell him to clean up his own mess.
Dominique had never possessed much passion for ruling the Empire in the first place. He had borne the evaluation of never escaping his father's shadow his entire life. A few more years of the same would change nothing.
However—
"Chancellor Ordo von Devien shall obey Your Majesty's command."
We cannot keep borrowing that power indefinitely. Even if we silence them with Father's authority now, they will only grow noisy again before long.
In his mind rose the image of the former Emperor.
The Hegemony War and the Judgment War. A war hero who had led the nation to victory in both great conflicts. A magnificent statesman who had brought peace to the continent through exceptional governance. A willful man who had insisted on giving all his children imperial-style names while drawing a clear line from the original Barhart Kingdom, yet stubbornly retained his own name, Ludwig Barhart, without a middle name in accordance with the old kingdom's customs.
And now, an unmistakable old man whose white hair and wrinkled skin could no longer be concealed.
No matter how peerless the hero, without the Star's Blessing of Yugu, one could not defy the passage of time. Those left behind had no choice but to consider what came after.
The Academy gladly accepted the Emperor's message, which soon drew the attention of many.
Public opinion largely favored a military victory. Even the Southern Army, considered among the weaker of the five, was still part of the imperial forces. Against the elite troops of a vassal state like the Spero Kingdom, they were deemed more than capable of securing dominance.
Of course, since the Academy students were talents personally selected by the Empire's former Emperor, some held expectations for them. However, those expectations amounted to nothing more than "impressive for children," with only a small minority seriously believing they could win.
As for the Academy itself, the actual party involved...
Istal delivered this terrifying declaration with a bright smile. The students' faces began turning deathly pale.