The Empire's Guardian Deity (1)

Wolfgang wanted nothing more than to collapse into bed and sleep the entire day away now that she had finally returned to the empire. Unfortunately, she still had work left to do. She needed to hand over all her information to the Foreign Ministry.

Unlike other nations, the Bahamut Empire had established and maintained an entire Foreign Ministry. This was because diplomacy had become critically ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠important during the Winter of the Apocalypse. In the past, the empire had lost most of its self-sufficiency due to that endless winter. To survive, they had no choice but to import food through diplomacy. Naturally, other countries knew the empire’s dire situation. They charged exorbitant prices or, in the worst cases, treated the empire like complete fools and ripped them off mercilessly.

The emperor at the time had realized that conducting diplomacy on the same level as other nations would lead to their ruin. If their diplomatic power remained average, the empire would simply wither and die. They needed overwhelming diplomatic strength capable of crushing such disadvantages. With that in mind, the empire created the massive organization known as the Foreign Ministry, and its legacy had continued to this day.

As if to prove their competence, the ministry had already learned that Wolfgang had achieved significant diplomatic results in the Blood Alliance. Naturally, they wanted her to share that information. While the empire’s Foreign Ministry was indeed highly capable, information on the Blood Alliance—a realm that strongly rejected other races—was especially vital. Moreover, since Wolfgang’s achievements could clearly be called a success, the ministry had no choice but to wait with bated breath for her to complete the handover.

That was why, the moment she returned, she found herself sitting at a desk buried in paperwork. However, the expression on her face as she worked was twisted as if she had bitten into a bug. It wasn’t simply because she had to work on what should have been her day off. While that certainly contributed, the real reason she was suffering was that she had absolutely nothing to write in the handover report.

Sharing information itself wasn’t the problem. From Wolfgang’s perspective, if someone was willing to take on the annoying political burden in her place, there was no reason to refuse. No, the single reason the handover had become a problem was this:

Frankly, the only thing Wolfgang had done in the Blood Alliance was beat up their chieftain. Or to be more precise, that was the only thing she could clearly remember doing. She had also clashed with the Saintess, but she had been purely on the defensive, and that incident was technically a diplomatic matter between the empire and the Mines Kingdom, not the Blood Alliance.

But if she honestly wrote that in the handover report? At best they would dismiss it as nonsense. At worst, if they actually tried to replicate her methods, her career would be over. So in the end, she had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠no choice but to fabricate some reasonably plausible information.

The problem was that even fabricating information was ridiculously difficult. The empire’s Foreign Ministry was not made up of pushovers. They were tenacious bastards who, during the unprecedented catastrophe of the Winter of the Apocalypse, had somehow managed to secure aid from other nations using extremely limited resources. If Wolfgang and the Vendetta Legion had led the empire to victory in the Winter War, then it was no exaggeration to say that the Foreign Ministry had been what allowed the empire to endure for the past hundred years.

And as if to prove it, the Foreign Ministry was one of the most difficult organizations for even imperial nobles to join. They selected people based purely on ability, not connections. In other words, half-baked lies would never fool them.

That was the main reason Wolfgang was currently frowning and reluctantly scribbling away at her desk. Of course, she held the high position of Eastern Defense Force Commander, and her fame was in no way inferior to that of the Foreign Ministry. Still, there was no reason to do a sloppy job and create unnecessary enemies.

In the end, Wolfgang stayed up for two full nights, pulling all-nighters until she finally managed to complete the report. Of course, the so-called “report” was basically just a long-winded way of saying she had beaten the chieftain into submission. Still, from Wolfgang’s perspective, it was at least passable.

The next day, one of the nobles from the Foreign Ministry arrived right on time.

“It has been a while, Sir Leonhardt.”

“Since the imperial hearing, I believe. Count Carnarvon.”

It was a familiar young noble with black hair and equally black eyes. Count Carnarvon, was it? She remembered being questioned by him during the imperial hearing.

What? This guy was part of the Foreign Ministry? He’s more capable than I thought.

Wolfgang was slightly surprised to realize he was more talented than she had assumed, having initially thought of him as just another young noble. However, she didn’t show it and simply handed over the report.

“Thank you for your cooperation. I hope this helps make the empire’s future a little brighter.”

At Count Carnarvon’s words, Wolfgang gave an awkward smile.

It’s just a report. Why does it have to sound so damn burdensome?

The handover report Wolfgang had given him was organized far better than Count Carnarvon had imagined. It covered everything from the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Blood Alliance’s geography to their basic culture, customs, and even their political system. There was no way the Foreign Ministry—which had supported the empire for the past century—could fail to recognize the value contained in this document.

Diplomacy fundamentally began with understanding the other party. There was no need to sympathize with their circumstances. One simply needed to understand their situation, culture, and customs, then forge a blade that could pierce straight into their heart. Diplomacy was ultimately a battle of preparation. Unless there was an overwhelming difference in power, the side that prepared more thoroughly would win. And that principle applied even if the opponent was a race of orcs who knew nothing but combat.

Approach them in ways they liked. Avoid the things they hated. Emotions might get hurt in the process, but thanks to Sir Leonhardt’s report, they could avoid that as much as possible.

“Have you forgotten? That your chieftain suffered humiliation at our hands!”

“Are you saying you cannot accept the outcome?”

“What did you say?!”

“If you insist… then perhaps we can be your opponents this time.”

What would be considered rude behavior in other nations was, in the Blood Alliance, a way to prove one’s qualifications and strength as a warrior. As such, the most important thing in diplomacy was understanding. The geographical advantage could not be overlooked either. The Mines Kingdom, the hegemon of the east, and the Blood Alliance, the ruler of the west, were located on completely opposite sides of the continent, making meetings between them extremely difficult. In contrast, the empire was much closer to the Blood Alliance than the kingdom was.

Of course, the Blood Alliance was not an opponent to be taken lightly, but the results were better than expected.

An alliance would be difficult, but this should at least be enough to keep the kingdom in check.

Forming an alliance with the Blood Alliance was nearly impossible in the short term. Although, for some reason, their chieftain had shown unusually favorable reactions toward the empire, that was as far as it went. Still, this was a sufficient achievement. Simply preventing the Blood Alliance from joining hands with the kingdom would greatly restrict the latter’s movements.

Count Carnarvon clicked his tongue in admiration.

I have no choice but to acknowledge it.

At first, he had thought of her as just another power-hungry noble. Of course, that didn’t mean she wasn’t a hero. But power had a way of corrupting most people eventually. She now held immense authority as the commander of the Eastern Defense Force and the master of the Vendetta Legion. If she ever harbored ill intentions and attempted a coup, who could possibly stop her?

He had once consulted Duke Ifrit about this very concern. However, the duke had told him not to worry and revealed a secret he had kept hidden until now.

Count Carnarvon possessed the ability to distinguish truth from lies. That was how he knew Duke Ifrit had been telling the truth. But was that really possible? Power was like a drug. Once you tasted it even once, it was impossible to escape. That was the nature of power—a powerful narcotic that could turn even an innocent country boy into a tyrant in an instant.

Yet she had held one of the highest forms of authority, military power, and had let it go so easily? Naturally, Count Carnarvon hadn’t believed it at first. However, after learning more about Wolfgang Leonhardt during the imperial hearing and witnessing this latest incident, he had no choice but to accept it. She truly was a hero who thought only of the empire.

During the imperial hearing, she had not only pressured the nobles who had tried to corner her but had also handed over every single thing she had seen and heard in a report to the Foreign Ministry—which held power comparable to her own. What did that signify?

She did not think about ‘power.’ She thought only of the empire’s ‘future.’

“…I see. The empire’s guardian deity, huh.”

He had heard that the young knights these days called Sir Leonhardt the empire’s guardian deity. At first he had thought it was an unnecessarily grandiose title, but now Count Carnarvon had no choice but to acknowledge it.

“Ugh, I just want to retire.”

The woman he now considered the empire’s guardian deity was lying in bed, shouting about retirement. Sadly, the world refused to grant her even a moment’s rest.

Just as she lay down to relax, the door suddenly burst open and Galina entered, dressed neatly in her military uniform. The moment Wolfgang saw her, she instinctively realized it.

“Commander, His Majesty the Emperor is looking for you.”

Something troublesome has definitely happened.