Chapter 5
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: Black Mage #1
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Seriously, what war out of the blue?
I nearly lost it for a second, but I calmed down after hearing the details.
The enemy was one of the kingdoms in the southwestern alliance: the Varka Kingdom.
It was a pathetic little tribal confederation that barely scraped by as the runt of the seven-kingdom alliance.
"I thought something major had happened."
"But, Your Majesty..."
"It's fine."
I soothed Lily, who was looking up at me with worried eyes.
In the original story, this was a random event that triggered once during holidays or breaks if certain conditions were met.
Guess it's break time right now, huh.
Not a tough one by my standards anyway—I could wrap it up quick.
"How dare they trample Your Majesty's glorious territory with their filthy feet. We should slaughter them all and it still wouldn't be enough."
So it wasn't worry—she was pissed.
I comforted the fuming Lily.
"Lily, your shoulders are tense. Let me give them a rub."
"Ah! Your Majesty."
That aside.
This event wasn't supposed to happen now.
In the game, the timing of this event was a gauge for how badly the empire was faring.
If the empire started wobbling, their chances of attacking shot up.
Sure, you could argue the empire was still the empire—how could some puny kingdom just barge in like that? But there were all sorts of messy circumstances here.
For starters, Varka called itself a kingdom, but it was more like a bandit coalition.
Still.
At least not right now.
The empire might look like a total mess, but it had plenty of juice left to crush one uppity little nation.
So why?
As I puzzled over it, Lily mumbled awkwardly.
"Word is, Your Majesty has been too quiet lately, so people are saying something must be wrong."
"Ah."
This was insane.
Even after I lopped off three high officials' heads recently, they called it 'quiet'.
I wiped my face.
So basically, since I'd slacked on the killing and the extravagance, they thought I was an easy mark.
Tsk.
Amusing.
"Summon everyone. Right now."
*
They were all assembled.
The mood was grave, probably from the news.
"You're all here."
I took my seat on the jade throne.
"You've heard the news, I take it."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Elisabeth von Valerian answered for the group.
She wasn't in her usual uniform—instead, a rough robe.
Like she was about to march off to war.
What a joke.
It was all for show, to win the people's hearts.
And sure enough, everyone's eyes lit up watching her.
Just a month ago, they'd been grumbling about some young girl bossing them around, and now they were totally bought in.
Tsk tsk.
Still, they seemed to want me to ask, so I did, out of courtesy.
"Why is the plenipotentiary envoy in a robe?"
"Just give the order, and I'll go wipe out the empire's enemies myself."
Her words flowed smoothly.
Scary part was, she'd actually do it if I told her to.
I waved her off.
"Enough. The empire needs caretakers here, not on the front lines."
"Then... shall we dispatch the knight orders?"
At Elisabeth's words, the officials started murmuring.
The Vice Minister of Military Affairs stepped forward.
"Your Majesty, is that truly necessary? Varka is a minor kingdom, hardly fit to challenge the empire. Of course, their audacity in eyeing our territory and resources deserves a hundredfold punishment, but I don't believe we even need to send your glorious knight orders for that."
"What do you think, envoy?"
"A valid point. But, Vice Minister? Do you know who's in charge of the border region with Varka right now?"
"Philemon Margrave."
"And who under him will lead this battle?"
"......"
"Not surprising you don't. Border defense is the margrave's domain, and we can't be expected to know every subordinate. In this fight, Philemon will likely put Count Gart at the vanguard."
The vice minister's jaw dropped.
I was shocked too.
How does she know that?
Elisabeth glanced my way.
"Your Majesty, the margrave is likely to lose this battle."
"How likely?"
"Pardon?"
"What's the envoy's estimate on the margrave's odds of defeat?"
Caught off guard by the sudden question, Elisabeth chewed her lip.
"......I'd say about sixty percent. Factoring in the odds of Count Gart leading the vanguard, alternatives if he doesn't, and other variables."
"Nah. Doesn't matter. The margrave is gonna lose anyway."
"......Pardon?"
My words caught her off guard.
Her sharp eyes widened innocently.
"I'm certain of it."
"Your Majesty, nothing in this world is absolute."
Trouble creased Elisabeth's face.
"Your Majesty, the envoy has a point. Philemon Margrave is a battle-hardened veteran who's guarded our borders for generations."
The vice minister chimed in.
I chuckled.
"Is that so? You all think that way?"
"Your Majesty?"
"Let's make a bet then."
They all looked baffled.
A bet out of nowhere? Yeah, I get it.
"I'll wager on the margrave's total defeat."
Elisabeth's expression turned odd.
"I do see a high chance of loss, but total defeat...?"
"Ahem. Your Majesty, betting on the outcome like this is a bit much."
The vice minister cleared his throat.
"It just means I'm that confident. I'm not about to gamble soldiers' lives needlessly."
Liar, I was.
But that didn't mean throwing them away like meat shields.
"The envoy is spot on. But there's one mistake."
"What's that?"
"Even the knight orders won't make it in time. The border will fall before they arrive."
Why was I so sure the margrave would lose?
This was a scripted defeat event.
Send the knights now, and they'd arrive after the margrave got wrecked and lost his whole force.
All that'd be left were some ragtag remnants holding out with academy cadets—that was the event.
Why could academy students even join a border skirmish event?
Because shit hit the fan that hard.
Sounded dire—and it was, in the story.
But the actual game content? Just the hero and heroine flirting.
Not a clue how they actually pulled off the win.
Or why they lost so bad.
Nothing explained.
What a trash game.
"Your Majesty, that..."
Elisabeth started to speak.
She had something to say.
I waited, but she held back.
The vice minister jumped in instead.
"Then we must send the knights to prevent further losses, no?"
"True enough."
I shook my head.
"But right now, you all need to discuss something else first."
"What's that?"
"What we'll extract from them."
I raised my hand.
Lily quietly approached and handed me a blank sheet.
"I only know how to fight—my brain's no good for this. I have no idea what to write on documents like these. So you all pool your heads and fill this out."
"Your Majesty, how can you say that? You are the empire's brightest intellect."
The vice minister freaked out.
Even for flattery, that was overkill.
"......I never doubted Your Majesty's brilliant mind."
Elisabeth smiled sweetly, like she couldn't let him outdo her.
A bald-faced lie, delivered without a twitch.
I clicked my tongue inwardly.
"That said, Your Majesty, drafting this document is vital, but shouldn't we first decide how to handle the enemy...?"
"Vice Minister, still haven't figured it out?"
Elisabeth cut off his cautious words.
"W-what do you mean, envoy?"
"If the knights can't get there in time, there's only one answer."
She looked at me.
"Your Majesty plans to take the field himself."
"The envoy's as sharp as ever."
I stood from the throne.
"Your Majesty...?"
Not just the vice minister.
All the officials in the audience chamber stared up at me.
I could feel their 'No way?' vibes.
Way.
I didn't wanna go.
Really didn't.
But I had to.
No matter how I sliced it, I was the one who needed to show up.
Those bastards.
They came because they thought I was a pushover, right?
Even if I stopped them this time, they'd slink back unless I made an example.
So yeah, me going was perfect.
Emperor of Tactics vibes.
*
The border region.
Simon, a common knight under Philemon Margrave's domain, steadied his ragged breathing.
In times like these, shouldn't knights like him—and the nobles—step up first to contain and stabilize things?
Enemies could strike anytime.
That meant preparing more, defending harder, protecting the territory from raids.
So why hadn't anything changed?
Why was he the only one on dawn watch?
Why, why.
Such questions were pointless now.
The enemy was attacking again.
'Hey! The empire's the strongest, man. Those barbarians gonna touch us? Just slack off!'
His senior who said that got his head chopped off in the last battle.
The empire was supposed to be the strongest.
But in the battle Simon saw, the imperial forces crumbled helplessly.
"Raaagh!"
Simon roared and swung his sword.
He killed one.
But another filled the gap.
No end in sight.
Despair gripped him.
'Barbarians! Tiny nation!'
Even a knight couldn't handle seasoned soldiers if his aura was unpolished.
Like hunting a beast with a pack.
They wore him down, rotating in to drag him to death.
But knights fattened on peace never knew.
The empire was strong.
Breathe, and you'd eat well, sleep sound.
That complacency was choking them now.
"Gah!"
Simon fell.
'Don't wanna die, don't wanna die!'
Death's shadow loomed; his breath quickened again.
"Farewell, fat imperial pig."
The barbarian muttered something.
Simon squeezed his eyes shut.
And...
"......?"
Death didn't come.
Puzzled, he opened his eyes.
"Hngh...!"
Simon recoiled in horror.
Mangled barbarian corpses littered the ground, reduced to meat chunks.
The metallic stench of blood stung his nose.
And then.
"What's your name?"
A dizzying terror crashed over Simon.
Denser than the brush with death from the enemy moments ago.
It was a man who seemed death sculpted into human form.
Black hair, gleaming golden eyes.
A lofty poise that scorned the world.
Instinct told him who.
"I-I meet Emperor His Majesty! I'm Simon!"
"Right. Sir Simon. Got it."
As if mocking Simon's trembling fear, the emperor turned away indifferently.
"It's dangerous. Head inside."
"Pardon...?"
Before Simon could reply, the emperor flicked his hand.
"Ugh...!"
A gale erupted from nothing.
A miracle, like a god wielding mortal flesh.
Blown from the battlefield, Simon shivered in awe.
This... is His Majesty the Emperor...!
The empire's true master.
Only now did he grasp what 'the empire is strong' meant.
The empire is strong.
Precisely: the empire with His Majesty is strong!
The empire fell because of the emperor.
We're poor because he's incompetent.
'All lies!'
Slander spread by those slandering His Majesty.
He'd write tales praising the emperor when he got back.
So the empire's subjects could laud His Majesty's greatness.
The moment the once-aspiring playwright knight chased his dream anew.
Mid-flight on the gale, the young knight saluted the emperor.
'What the hell.'
Khalid inexplicably felt a chill down his spine.
No idea why, but his retirement suddenly felt farther away.