A New Friend
The Kruzenstein family had been importing muskets from the capital in bulk.
They placed orders with multiple craftsmen and bought them up by the hundreds. But the number of soldiers had swollen exponentially—from the original twenty thousand to a full fifty thousand—and the old system simply could not keep pace.
So my scheme was this: invite the capital's craftsmen to us. Headhunting, pure and simple.
In truth, the groundwork for that headhunting had been laid long before Leona summoned me. I had already sent people to the capital, paid handsomely, and brought the artisans into the family fold.
Torgenberg is rich in mountains. More than that—it is rich in mines. The region yields high-quality iron and sulfur, both essential for musket warfare. Letting that advantage go to waste was never an option.
Local iron and sulfur. Craftsmen who could work that iron and sulfur better than anyone alive. An in-house musket production line born from the marriage of abundant resources and exceptional talent.
That was the final scheme I presented to Leona.
Lucill Meyer, younger sister of Franz Meyer.
She was a woman of outstanding military and political talent, yet opportunities to display those gifts were few. Her elder brother Franz Meyer had proven so exceptional at running the family that, so long as he never failed, work rarely filtered down to Lucill at all.
But Lucill Meyer was no ordinary person. She knew exactly what she needed to do in a situation like this.
I have to fortify both the military and internal administration.
Franz Meyer was navigating the political waters well enough. Despite being a surrendered general, he enjoyed his lord's favor and led a faction of his own—proof enough of sound judgment. But when things truly went wrong, what you could trust was not politics or diplomacy. It was the army standing right in front of you. In an age of chaos, the number of situations you could talk your way out of once the enemy was at the gates was vanishingly small.
It's not about the number of soldiers.
Having both quantity and quality would be ideal, of course—but that would naturally concentrate power within the family, and concentrated power draws eyes, and eyes draw enemies. What she needed was a force that looked weak enough to escape notice, yet never lost a real fight. And for that, quality mattered far more than quantity.
I can't neglect the reclamation of the southern mountain districts either. We need to give the impression that we're expanding our territory through cultivation, not through wars of conquest.
The productive gains from reclamation were limited. In peacetime it might have been fine, but in an age like this, conquering land was far more efficient than clearing it. Franz Meyer's temperament, however, would never favor efficient territorial expansion. What he wanted was to conduct himself properly and avoid being swept into the fires of the age. So Lucill believed she had to read his strategy as accurately as possible and carry out precisely what he desired.
What Brother wants is probably for the realm to be unified and the chaos to end—not his own advancement. So I need to act in step with that as much as I can.
Lucill thought: the protagonist of this life is probably not me. That she had been born Franz Meyer's younger sister was likely divine guidance to help him. And so, while Franz Meyer was away, Lucill Meyer chose to strengthen their foundations rather than pursue external expansion—following his policy to the letter.
On the first of June in the year 553, Leona proclaimed the relocation of the capital from Kruzenstein Castle to Torgenberg Castle, and preparations advanced steadily.
Diplomacy proceeded alongside it, and the substance of those overtures was roughly this: We have the Emperor. We will march on the capital before long. Would you kindly open the road?
It was a request in name only—a threat in all but form. Opening the road meant allowing military installations for supply and defense to be built in that territory, and once those facilities existed, invasion became trivial. To open the road was, in effect, to surrender.
"Will they truly open the roads, do you think?"
Hakon, a retainer of Leona's and a friend since childhood, asked the question. Leona answered with a look that said she could scarcely believe he had asked something so foolish.
"Of course they won't. Is that not obvious?"
"My lady? Then why on earth did you send envoys to—"
"We need a pretext. If they refuse to open the road, that refusal becomes our excuse to invade, does it not?"
"Ah…"
Hakon was a knight, and a pure-hearted one. He had never grasped these political undercurrents, and learning his lord's true intent left him stunned.
"Naturally, if an ordinary aggressor used such a pretext, they would be denounced as invaders. But we have the Imperial Princess. When the imperial army, escorting the Princess, marches to reclaim the capital—and someone refuses to open the road—is it not the one who refuses who becomes the traitor?"
"…"
Hakon was shaken. He had thought securing the Princess was simply a great achievement. He had never imagined this kind of calculation lay behind it.
"That is what the Imperial House is. Used properly, it becomes an invincible casus belli. In that sense, now that we hold the Imperial House, we can never lose on the grounds of legitimacy."
"So that is why Your Grace sought the Princess…"
Hakon thought: my lord is more formidable than I realized. But if I follow this woman, I will never die a pointless death on a losing battlefield.
The small western states all refused the request to open their roads. "Refusal" was generous—most simply ignored it. What was there to trust in Leona? She was nothing more than an invader who happened to hold the imperial heir. That was how the small states saw it.
But one person was the exception: Blois de Savoia. She was the lord of the Savoia Duchy, which lay directly beside Torgenberg—a woman one year younger than Leona.
That woman lord declared that the House of Savoia intended to cooperate actively in restoring the Imperial House's authority, but that she wished to know whether Lady Leona was someone she could trust—and so she would come to Kruzenstein Castle in person.
"Is this woman in her right mind?"
Leona thought. Coming alone into a country that might soon become an enemy? Not even sending an envoy—the lord herself? That was not something a sane person did.
"But…"
The problem was that Leona was extremely fond of people who were not in their right minds. She took great pleasure in the destruction of common sense, and so she adored madmen of this sort.
Moreover, they were the same sex, and close in age. If things went well, she might even gain a good friend.
"I wonder—is she merely unhinged, or is she someone special?"
Which would it be? Leona fell asleep with a fluttering heart, looking forward to the day she would meet Blois.
Three months later. The first of September, 553.
Leona completed the relocation of the capital to Torgenberg Castle. Preparations had begun as early as April, yet in a mere five months they had finished the expansion and renovation of Torgenberg Castle and the entire transfer of the seat of government—with astonishing speed.
Franz Meyer could not help but be impressed.
I already knew, but the engineers of the Kruzenstein faction are no joke.
People who only half-understood the game often believed Kruzenstein's strength lay in the combination of muskets and pike infantry. In truth, several other houses used muskets and pikes as well. What made Kruzenstein special was that their corps of engineers far surpassed those of any other house.
And that superiority sprang from Kruzenstein's unique military system. In other houses, men farmed in peacetime and, when war came, seized the chance—grabbing the spears and armor from their homes to become soldiers. Kruzenstein was different. Many of its people did no farming or side work at all; they lived solely as soldiers.
The reason, of course, was constant warfare. They fought every year, and so professional soldiers naturally gathered. That fact raised the quality of the troops and the skill of the engineers alike.
And just as the capital relocation was drawing to a close—
"The rightful heir of the Savoia Duchy! Lady Blois de Savoia enters!"
She had arrived. Blois de Savoia. A capable commander with Leadership 86, Might 90, Intellect 67, and Politics 70.
But relative to those stats, she carried enormous weight in the game's story. And for good reason—
Because she is the person who has the greatest influence on Leona.
Her presence would transform Leona's character dramatically. That was how it went in the original story, at least.
"Admit her!"
Blois de Savoia entered, and the moment she did, many of those present let out soft gasps of admiration.
"Oh."
"Ohh…"
A beautiful face, flawless etiquette, and refined Central fashion that the country bumpkins of the Kruzenstein Duchy could never hope to imitate. She was, by any measure, the perfect Central noble.
Well now…
Leona, too, was impressed. She had expected a madwoman, but the figure before her was far more composed and elegant than anticipated.
"I present myself before Lady Leona of the Kruzenstein Duchy."
"Raise your head."
Leona von Kruzenstein was a duchess. Blois was a duchess as well. But because Leona protected the Imperial Princess, she had received a high imperial office, and with it the right to address Blois as a subordinate.
"So. You said you wished to see me before opening the road?"
"That is correct."
"For what reason?"
"Because I wished to know. Whether you are merely an invader hungry for territory—or a true loyalist who genuinely seeks to set the Imperial House aright."
"Hmm…"
Leona found herself intrigued by this unusual woman. And so she decided to provoke her a little.
"Did it never occur to you that I might kill you here, and then attack while your house panics over the loss of its lord?"
"I have a younger brother, and a father as well."
"And?"
"Even if I die and vanish here, my father—the original lord—will take command of the army and defend the territory. The succession can pass to my younger brother."
"…"
The hall fell silent. Blois's words were logically sound. History was full of cases where a dead lord was replaced by the previous generation's return, and with a younger brother available, succession was no concern. But—
To stake your own life on that and walk into the enemy's camp?
Few people could go that far. This woman was one of two things: mad, or madly bold.
Leona grinned—a smile of pure delight. Watching that smile, Franz Meyer thought:
So it's flowing just as it did in the original history.
Leona von Kruzenstein. Gains a new friend.