The Rabid Dog of the Alliance
With the opening of Arsen Academy, the Zenith Kingdom faced a massive crisis.
The alliance of the five nations, known as the "Allied Kingdoms." Every nation already knew, deep down, that Elium was the true heart leading this coalition.
Zenith, Franz, Ilium, Cross, and Orion. The kingdoms of Ilium, Cross, and Orion, which had always maintained a neutral stance, were largely unaffected by the shifting tides of power. Similarly, although the Franz Kingdom had marched its troops all the way to Elium, they had stopped short of a full-scale war and quietly retreated. There was still some room for leniency there.
...But what about Zenith?
The nation that had deemed Elium weak and tried to push all the way to its capital? Zenith.
The nation that had hired the legendary strategist, the Tactician of a Thousand Thoughts, pouring astronomical sums of money into a scheme to starve Elium dry? Zenith.
The nation that had acted like a lackey for the Karis Empire, constantly grating on Elium's nerves? Once again, Zenith.
Ugh. Even as the King of Zenith, Lionel had to admit there was absolutely no room for excuse. He desperately needed to find a way to break through this crisis.
First, as the great monarchs of history had always done, he activated his royal family's secret skill.
Responsibility Shifting
The effect was negligible.
His first move was to completely banish the Tactician of a Thousand Thoughts from the kingdom. He feared that Elium's ambassador would find her very presence offensive.
As he agonized over how to handle her, an opportunity presented itself. She was planning to cross over to the Empire. Letting her go was fine, but if he wasn't careful, it might look like he was merely trying to shirk his responsibility.
An ingenious idea struck the King, and he immediately put it into action. He simply withheld the information that the Karis Empire had closed its borders to foreign visitors.
The result was a resounding success. Her vast fortune was frozen inside the Empire, and when intelligence reports reached him detailing her miserable state, the King nodded in quiet satisfaction.
With Foundation Day approaching, he hosted a massive festival, putting up a treasure of Adamantium as the prize. He invited citizens from other kingdoms to liven up the atmosphere.
By some stroke of divine luck, Doyunes himself witnessed her pitiful state, causing the smile on the King's face to grow even wider. Though Lionel's spies couldn't infiltrate the mansion where Doyunes was staying...
According to intelligence, she had been spotted over the estate walls from time to time, looking gaunt and haggard. It was absolutely certain that she was undergoing horrific torture inside.
This was the fate of those who were cast aside. Lionel now had a crystal-clear understanding of how the Prophet handled debts of gratitude and vengeance.
Looking at the first tenet of the Ifrit Church, the religion Doyunes led: [Repay kindness tenfold, return vengeance tenfold.] Lionel realized those weren't just empty words.
Now, it was time to place his bet. He stepped out onto the balcony and roared to the crowd.
"Our Zenith Kingdom was deceived by the Karis Empire's insidious schemes into declaring war on the Elium Kingdom! But we know the truth now! The axis of evil was Karis, and true justice lies with Elium!"
"Waaaaaaah!"
"Waaaaaaah!"
Cheers erupted across the plaza. The agents he had planted throughout the crowd whipped up the reactions, and public sentiment instantly transformed into wild enthusiasm.
Soon enough, the Elium Kingdom responded to his performance.
Lionel quickly became addicted to this sweet taste of favor.
"Today, I, Lionel de Elian la Zenis, repent for my past transgressions and swear before Ifrit! Our kingdom is now in a state of absolute hostility with the Karis Empire!"
Just by declaring absolute hostility against the Karis Empire—essentially committing to a fight to the death where only one would survive—Elium would shower him with such rewards? His eyes rolled back in sheer ecstasy.
His rhetoric grew increasingly extreme, to the point where neighboring kingdoms began to worry.
Yet, he didn't pay the slightest attention to their warnings. I am no fool.
The growth of the Allied Kingdoms would not stop here. And through his recent actions, he had figured out exactly how to secure the best possible treatment within it.
Doyunes and the Karis Empire could never coexist. That was the conclusion Lionel had reached after closely observing the Prophet's movements. In that case, it was better to shamelessly wag his tail.
This was a tactic that only worked in the early stages. The moment every other kingdom caught on and started doing the same, its value would plummet. Therefore, he had to establish a rock-solid image. No matter what anyone said, Zenith had to be known as the rabid dog of the Allied Kingdoms.
"Father, you summoned me?" asked the Crown Prince of Zenith, Ionel de Elian la Jenice. He was the one destined to ascend the throne after Lionel's passing.
"It seems you must be the one to enroll in the Academy this term."
"What? I thought we had already decided to send my youngest brother...?"
"Crown Prince, do you not see the flow of the tides?"
"...I do not. While improving relations with Elium is necessary, openly antagonizing the Empire is undeniably dangerous."
"Now, think carefully." The King slowly pulled a document from his robes, as if instructing a naive child. The Crown Prince watched him with a puzzled expression. Several messenger bird dispatches were spread across the table.
"These are the tariff agreements regarding trade with the Tirand Empire."
"Even so, simply lowering tariffs doesn't change the fact that—"
"Zero percent."
"...Huh?"
"A complete, absolute exemption from tariffs on our exports. Conversely, we can still levy tariffs on the Empire's goods."
"B-But still..."
Thud. Another sheet of paper was tossed onto the desk.
"And this is the technology sharing agreement for magitech. These are the fruits of my speeches."
"...Father. Forgive your foolish son. I was blind to your profound wisdom." The Crown Prince's eyes turned bloodshot with greed, mirroring his father's.
"Should we perhaps deploy more troops to the border? Since we are already hostile, what difference would a few more soldiers make?"
A truly mad idea. Lionel nodded in immense satisfaction.
"Ho! You truly are a genius, Crown Prince."
As Ionel stood up, the King watched him proudly. The Crown Prince spoke.
"I shall begin my preparations to depart for the Academy at once."
The once-strained relationship between father and son was beautifully restored.
Although Zenith's sudden behavior caught me off guard, it wasn't a bad thing for me. So this is... an ally? They're surprisingly reliable. But seriously, are you guys going to be okay?
Lately, it wasn't just the King of Zenith; his son, the Crown Prince, was also ramping up his aggressive rhetoric against the Karis Empire. Like father, like son.
The rewards were originally meant to be distributed evenly among the entire Allied Kingdoms. But since they were wagging their tails so enthusiastically... well, that changed things.
I handed over a portion of the benefits secured from the negotiations with Tirand exclusively to Zenith.
Meanwhile, the Academy's admission season drew near. Consequently, my schedule became an absolute nightmare.
I had to recruit professors and hold discussions on where to set the cap for the student intake.
Ultimately, the official student intake was set at roughly 1,000. I planned to allocate 20% of the slots to royalty and nobility, 30% to merchant families, and the remaining 50% to commoners who would pass a direct entrance exam on opening day.
Since the test was strictly for the commoners who showed up on opening day, about 500 students would be from common backgrounds.
Although traveling all the way here was a massive ordeal, their desire to elevate their social status and catch the eye of high society far outweighed the hardship.
And then, opening day arrived. The gates of Arsen Academy were completely swamped by a crowd of tens of thousands.
The queue of applicants stretched endlessly. Through a separate side gate, carriages and mounted escorts passed by, the flags of various nations fluttering in the wind.
They were quickly guided to their assigned dormitories by the bustling staff.
What lay ahead now was the entrance exam. The testing was divided into three departments: Magic, Combat, and Administration.
The Magic Department was organized with the help of a noble family from the Ilium Kingdom, renowned for its magical heritage. The Combat Department was aided by Jake, the giant warrior of the Baba Tribe. And the Administration Department received the entirely voluntary assistance of Rachel.
Subjects like imperial studies, politics, and theology were electives that commoners couldn't take. Even if they did, they would have nowhere to apply them.
"Attention all applicants! No crossing the waiting line into the building! Please register your identity first, then proceed to the queue for your respective department!"
The testing grounds split into three directions.
[ Magic Department Testing Ground – East Hall ]
[ Combat Department Testing Ground – North Training Ground ]
[ Administration Department Testing Ground – West Archives ]
The applicants began to disperse according to their choices. At the end of each path, the examiners revealed themselves one by one.
The East Hall. A space where blue mana drifted like mist. In its center stood a woman draped in a silver robe.
"I am Arbel Azure, direct descendant of the Fourth Magic Family under the Marquisate of Ilium."
"The test is simple. If you possess an aptitude for mana, you pass. If not, you fail. I will hear no objections."
With a light flick of her fingertips, dozens of magic circles materialized above the applicants' heads. Purity, control, and the quality of their mana—everything was laid bare in the form of light.
The North Training Ground. An arena blanketed in black sand. Atop it stood a colossal man.
"I'm Jake, a giant warrior of the Baba Tribe."
"The test is simple. Show me enough talent or fighting spirit to satisfy me, and you're in. However, I won't step outside this circle."
The first challenger, looking indignant, charged forward recklessly. Jake grinned and slammed the challenger into the ground using only his left hand.
"Next."
The West Archives. A quiet, dimly lit space. Behind a desk cluttered with magitech devices and documents sat a woman.
Her name was Rachel. Chief assistant, analyst, and the sole administrator of the departments of administration, finance, politics, and religion. And a slave driver on the hunt for fresh slaves.
"You have twenty minutes. Flip over the paper on your desk. Based on the topic provided, write and submit four separate situational reports categorized into economy, politics, society, and religion."
"We have to do this... all by ourselves?!"
"If you find it impossible, it simply means you lack the qualifications to become a slave."
"Did you just say... slave...?"
"Ahem. I said 'scholarly student.' And are you, a mere slave, talking back to your master right now?"
"Well, that's..."
"One-point deduction."
Rachel's face remained completely expressionless. Yet, her eyes burned with a singular, passionate desire.
Just let me catch one. Please.
I quietly looked down at the testing grounds from the top of the Academy's central tower. Soon, the reports came in.