23. I Became the Finance Director of a Kingdom on the Brink of Civil War
23. I Became the Finance Director of a Kingdom on the Brink of Civil War
"...So what you're telling me is this merchant, Marx, is also adept at handling military-grade stimulants?"
"Not an expert, but hardly an amateur either. It was as if he'd been using them for a very long time."
"That's nonsense. Karl Marx is 1st Rank. That poison is so potent that a minimum of 4th Rank is needed just to survive taking it."
One of the Delphia Kingdom's core industries was the cultivation of stimulants, commonly referred to as "tobacco."
Perched at the continent's edge with the sea on three sides, the Delphia Kingdom had a blessed environment where the sea winds made the raw herbs for stimulants grow in abundance.
Naturally, being surrounded by water meant they were also plagued by sea monsters, but the efforts of Grand Duke Wiguk and his well-trained regular army managed to cover it. Barely.
And the stimulant cultivation industry was lucrative enough to make that risk worthwhile.
'Civilian stimulants have all sorts of lowlifes picking over them, but military-grade is a different beast entirely.'
The reason was simple. If consumed by anyone below 4th Rank, it could physically lead to death.
The effect was far more potent than the civilian version—enough to keep you sharp for days on end without sleep—but the moment it wore off, you'd cough up blood and die.
Even a 3rd Rank couldn't endure it. Even those above 4th Rank would suffer severe aftereffects. It was a substance that only the likes of a 6th Rank or 7 could use with any stability.
And yet a mere 1st Rank was said to have used such military-grade stimulants multiple times.
That was impossible unless a 7th Rank—no, a 8th Rank—was standing right next to him, adjusting and drawing out the toxicity in real time.
"...That settles it."
"Sir?"
"Do not, under any circumstances, lay a hand on Karl Marx. He was already a companion of Her Highness, but you will treat him in such a manner as not to cause the slightest offense."
"As you command. However..."
"The man is most likely a courier sent by His Highness Crown Prince Zeke. He claims to be a salt merchant, but that's a cover. His real role is to monitor Princess Beatrice and bring her back."
"They would use a mere 1st Rank as a courier?"
"Yes, a 1st Rank. But..."
Karthea frowned, recalling the figure he'd seen earlier.
A man who was undeniably 1st Rank, yet simultaneously concealing multiple powerful artifacts all over his person.
They were precious artifacts whose effects even Karthea, a 6th Rank, could barely guess at. One even appeared to have been touched by dwarven craftsmanship.
He was, by all accounts, a person not to be trifled with.
"In any case, you will treat him with due respect. No quibbling."
"Yes! Understood!"
'He might not be from Crown Prince Zeke's side at all. He could be from Grand Duke Wiguk's.'
It was true that a royal courier could receive such valuable artifacts, but conversely, Grand Duke Wiguk's faction was just as capable.
But what reason was there to give such artifacts to a 1st Rank and use him as a courier? It would be infinitely more efficient to give them to a 2nd Rank or 3 instead.
'Either it's a ploy to make us lower our guard because he's a 1st Rank, or he's no mere courier...'
...Anything beyond this was pure speculation. The only certainties were that he accompanied Beatrice and that he was a 1st Rank who shouldn't be touched.
In Karthea's experience, 1st Rank individuals were insignificant commoners who couldn't even use mana. If he was so inclined, Karthea could easily kill hundreds of them himself.
But that was precisely why the high-ranking 1st Ranks, or the suspicious ones like Marx, were the most tenacious, vicious, and untouchable.
Having firmly suppressed his greed for the salt and the artifacts, Karthea glared at his adjutant's back as the man left the barracks.
'It doesn't matter anyway.'
They had their supplies. Once he linked up with Crown Prince Zeke and executed his betrayal, he wouldn't have to worry about Karl Marx, Beatrice, or anything else.
He'd have to be cautious of the pair when he turned coat, but since he'd be joining Crown Prince Zeke's rear lines, Karthea wouldn't be in their line of sight.
Having reasoned thus, Karthea carefully retrieved an object from a corner of his desk.
The obviously higher-ranked Beatrice did worry him, but he had no choice. It was time for their scheduled communication.
Crackle.
[General Karthea.]
"I hear you. How fares His Excellency the Grand Duke Wiguk?"
[He is preparing for the week ahead. You have been seeking him out excessively since our last contact.]
"...He must have heard my entire plan by now. It's easy to say I'll strike from the rear and defect, but without the Grand Duke's reciprocation, it'll end with me dying a dog's death. Anyone gets sensitive when their life is on the line."
[I told you last time as well. His Excellency has accepted your plan and has promised to put you to great use once you strike the rear and come over.]
Which was exactly why he needed to hear it from Grand Duke Wiguk himself!
Karthea suppressed the urge to shout at his contact, who kept repeating the same answer. His word was acceptance. His word was that he'd put him to great use—but if Grand Duke Wiguk truly valued Karthea, he would have contacted him personally.
The fact that an adjutant was the one answering meant, at the very least, the latter promise was a lie. Karthea was a 6th Rank and a general, but since most of the regular army had already sided with Grand Duke Wiguk, there were several 7th Rank generals. Even if he defected, there was no way he'd be valued highly.
He'd known that much. The problem was the first part: the guarantee of his life.
If Grand Duke Wiguk viewed Karthea's betrayal as nothing more than a minor disruption to the enemy camp, Karthea would simply die. He needed a firm confirmation that the Duke would cooperate somehow.
But the one in a hurry was Karthea, not the other side.
He gritted his teeth and swallowed his anger.
"And one more thing. Princess Beatrice has arrived at our encampment."
[...The 4th Princess? Truly?]
"Yes. Naturally, I'd assumed she was hiding away at Grandis Academy. The problem is..."
[Abduct her. By any means necessary. His Excellency has had his eye on her for a long time.]
"I cannot."
[Are you defying orders? His Excellency is simply too busy with other matters to contact you directly. If this is some petty battle of pride—]
"It's not that. It's physically impossible. Beatrice has cured her chronic illness."
[What?]
"Her estimated rank is 6th Rank, but she's significantly stronger than I am. Not long ago, she subdued me with magic right in front of me. Subduing her completely would require a minimum of a 7th Rank."
[What in the...]
The reaction was one of sheer disbelief, but Karthea understood. He himself would never have imagined that the famously ill 4th Princess would cure her disease in less than a year and become stronger than him.
His contact was silent for a moment, then spoke in a grave voice upon realizing Karthea wasn't joking.
[So a magician of nearly 7th Rank caliber has been added to the field... Damn it.]
"I would think this information is worth some generous treatment."
[...Of course. I will inform His Excellency the Grand Duke immediately. Contact me again at the scheduled time.]
Click.
The moment the communication artifact's sound cut off, Karthea let out a heavy sigh.
The addition of a mage who was at the peak of 6th Rank, practically bordering on 7th Rank, was top-priority intelligence in itself. Even more so if that mage was the 4th Princess.
With this, Grand Duke Wiguk's faction would have to raise Karthea's importance. His odds of dying like a dog after his defection had just dropped.
'...I'll keep that to myself for now.'
There was one thing Karthea didn't mention.
It was true that Princess Beatrice had cured her illness and was stronger than him... but logically, if she truly was in perfect condition, there was no way she could be in a state of mana exhaustion.
She had certainly cured her disease, but the side effects were likely severe, or she was relying on some other method.
In some ways, this was even more critical information than her return or her combat strength.
'I should keep a trump card for myself too.'
It was information Grand Duke Wiguk's side wouldn't know unless they'd seen Beatrice directly, like Karthea had. It would definitely be useful later.
Confident in that, Karthea clutched his throbbing head and lay down on his simple cot.
'I've invested my entire fortune. I have to make this certain.'
The money he'd saved his entire life as a general. He'd spent and spent it throughout this civil war, and had poured the last of it into buying salt.
That massive quantity of salt, and this information about Beatrice. With these two things, an opportunity to guarantee his survival would surely present itself.
Karthea didn't want to die. He dreamed of a future where he reached 7th Rank, a future where he climbed even higher, and that was why he wanted to side with Grand Duke Wiguk instead of Crown Prince Zeke, whose defeat in the civil war was all but certain.
And so, he was lost in a sea of thoughts. Because in just one week, everything would be decided.
...Sleep did not come easily.
*
"...You saved your life back there."
"Pardon?"
"It's nothing."
Beatrice gave the Finance Director a beaming smile, then glanced back toward General Karthea's barracks.
He had surely taken some precautions against magic, but blocking the eavesdropping of Beatrice, who was already reaching for 7th Rank, was impossible. More to the point, knowing General Karthea as she did, she had anticipated he would be thinking of betrayal.
'He sold my information, but he noticed my condition isn't perfect and kept quiet about it.'
His reasoning was transparent. He was trying to keep it as a hidden trump card. Thanks to that, he had saved his own life, though Karthea would never know it.
If he had tried to mention that Beatrice's state wasn't flawless, she would have killed him on the spot.
Having secretly withdrawn the [Jade Shackles] she had spread beneath Karthea, Beatrice turned to face the Finance Director.
"So, Finance Director."
"Yes?"
"Have you still been smoking?"
"I'm not smoking right now. The Chairwoman is required to draw out the toxins."
"That's not what I meant."
Beatrice's gaze landed on the "tobacco" the Finance Director had been recombining with the soldiers earlier.
It was the same substance she had seen in his dormitory in the past, the product secretly sold by the merchant she had introduced him to.
Of course, since she'd been the one to introduce him to the merchant, she wasn't really in a position to criticize him for using military-grade stimulants.
"...Try not to use it as much as possible. They call it military-grade, but it's essentially just a tool for making human shields."
"The soldiers seem to like it."
"That's because they cut it into small pieces and use it like a drug. Besides, the handling of military-grade stimulants is strictly managed even by the Royal Family."
"In times like these?"
"............"
She wanted to somehow make him stop using such a toxic substance, but this was the Finance Director, who had been using it without issue for the past six months. Thanks to the Chairwoman's assistance, no doubt, but he showed no signs of poisoning either.
Beatrice fell silent for a moment, at a loss for words.
In the slightly awkward atmosphere, the Finance Director chuckled.
"'And please don't worry, I'm not planning to consume it. As I mentioned before, I don't have the Chairwoman with me right now.'"
"...Then?"
"I'm going to handle this commercially too. Now that we're here, shouldn't we make a solid profit?"
"Excuse me?"
"Well, from the soldiers' perspective, they're going to seek out someone who's already proven their skill rather than risk their lives doing it themselves."
Flutter.
"Your Highness Beatrice, the soldiers gathered in front of the barracks have been asking to be introduced to Karl Marx... sir."
"Susanne?"
"Lady Susanne, have you explained the costs to them?"
"...There weren't many soldiers with gold coins. Most are peasants or conscripts."
"And the goods?"
"There are plenty who are willing to give up half of their rationed stimulants just for a chance to meet Mr. Marx."
"That makes sense. Nobody actually wants to take drugs that could kill them. Normally, anyone would give up half their supply to find a safe way to use the rest. Well then, Your Highness? If you'll excuse me for a moment."
"......Yes."
What was this feeling?
She had agreed to let the Finance Director accompany her in exchange for allowing her return to her homeland, and she had sworn to protect him at all costs.
'But somehow...'
Was it just her imagination, or was the Finance Director, who had definitely been born and raised in the Delphia Kingdom, more adept at this than she was?
He'd claimed to be a salt merchant, so she'd assumed it was just a cover, but he'd shown up with a genuinely preposterous amount of salt from who knows where, and now he was practically acting like a drug dealer.
"Mr. Marx! Check my medicine first!"
"My stimulant is first! I'll give you more than half!"
"If I give you gold coins, I don't have to give up half, right?!"
"Now, now. One at a time, please. I'll take care of all of you."
"............"
It felt a little strange to say this, but...
She had a feeling the Finance Director would have been perfectly fine coming here alone, without any escort at all....