Laying the Foundation (3)
Naturally enough, Tifa was far from convinced. She rounded on me the moment I finished speaking.
"Hold on a second. You put that know-it-all old man on wall repairs, and you're sending me to the market?! I don't know the first thing about running a shop!"
"Indeed. Strategist Swen. I must confess, I find the assignment rather difficult to understand myself."
Well. Even I couldn't entirely make sense of the appointments. But my mind insisted this was correct. And so it would be. With an Intelligence of one hundred or higher, my judgment was never wrong.
"…Swen…"
I could feel Luna watching me, worry written plain across her face. She must have found it just as baffling. She had decided to trust me as her strategist, but so far I had given her nothing to show for it.
Even so—if they did as I instructed now, something would happen. Something useful, not harmful.
Armed with that certainty, I spoke with a firmer edge than before.
"Everyone. Please hear me out. I understand this may not make sense to you, but this is currently the best decision for our army. If the results prove unsatisfactory, you may take my head for it."
"…!!"
The sudden declaration snapped all three pairs of eyes toward me. I knew it was extreme—but without something this drastic, there was no other way to persuade them.
The complaints came, as expected.
"You ought to explain yourself properly, don't you think? Assigning people work that doesn't suit their hands, just like that."
"Yeah. Explain. Go on."
This wasn't going to work as things stood. Still—if the outcome would be the same either way, there was no harm in dressing it up with a plausible reason. Even if the path diverged a little later, a good result would give me something to talk around.
Then Lunarien, standing at my side, spoke up.
"I have something to say to all of you. Please listen."
Every gaze in the room fixed on her.
"When I brought Swen here, I promised to place my trust in him. This is his first directive, and I won't deny that the assignments are hard to understand… but I intend to believe in him this time. What do you say?"
She was stepping in for me. I felt a fresh wave of gratitude. No matter what words I chose, no amount of stubborn insistence would truly convince them. I might be the strategist, but I had only just been commissioned—they could hardly feel the weight of a superior they were meant to serve. This was a moment for the leader to take the floor.
Yes. If Luna was willing to trust me, then I would back her in turn.
"My lord. I ask that you make the decision."
She looked into my eyes, closed hers slowly for a moment—then opened them again and addressed Kane and Tifa, who still wore puzzled expressions.
"For now, I ask that you follow Strategist Swen's instructions. If anyone objects, speak now."
"I have no objections, my lord. I shall devote myself to the wall repairs as ordered."
"Well, if Luna says so, I've got nothing to argue… but I'm telling you now—I've got zero confidence in this. Don't come chewing me out if the results are garbage."
Once the two of them had more or less accepted it, Luna brought the meeting to a close.
"Then this month's council is adjourned. Take whatever funds you need for your work from the treasury. I look forward to your results a month from now."
The two of them left the castle. I bowed my head to her in greeting.
"Thank you for trusting me, my lord."
"Not at all. I promised I would, after all."
She said it, then let out a short sigh.
"…Somehow… speaking casually is still really hard."
"You didn't use casual speech before?"
Luna gave me a bitter little smile.
"No. Both Kane and Tifa told me I needed to be conscious of my position as sovereign, but it was terribly difficult for me. You gave me the courage to manage it, Swen. Hehe…"
"If possible, I would suggest maintaining a sovereign's dignity even when we are alone. It would be helpful in a number of ways."
Luna laughed softly at that. Honestly—looking only at her face, she was remarkably cute. If there was a flaw, it was that she simply did not look like someone destined to unify a continent.
"Ah, right. Swen. There's one question I'd like to ask…"
"Please go ahead."
"Why did you send Kane to the walls and Tifa to the market? I said I would trust you, but no matter how I look at it, I can't shake the feeling that their destinations should have been swapped…"
Why had I done it? I didn't know either. My Intelligence of one hundred had simply told me to. My job was to wrap those three sentences in the most convincing packaging I could manage.
"Kane certainly has the style of a smooth-talking politician… but there are things he can only learn by standing on the front line of the walls. The same goes for Tifa. A woman who has lived so roughly since childhood needs new experiences. Becoming a true general doesn't mean you only need to be good at fighting. And in the end, this path will be the one that yields the highest results."
"Is that so…?"
Luna nodded slowly, admiration in her voice.
"That aside… Swen, you really are incredible."
"All of a sudden?"
"You saw at a glance that Kane is a bit of a smooth talker… and that Tifa has lived roughly since she was young."
Ah. That was—
Because I've played as the Lunarien Army before.
"I suppose when someone reaches your level, Swen, they can read a person's life trajectory just by looking at them. It's an ability I truly wish I could learn."
"Well. Something like that."
Being regarded as competent was no downside. They would listen to me more carefully for it, wouldn't they?
"So then—what should I do?"
"Ah, come to think of it, I never assigned you a task, Swen… Is there any duty you'd particularly like to take on?"
"Nothing in particular."
"Hmm…"
Shall I test it for a moment?
I looked at Luna and said,
"My lord. Would you ask me the following question: 'Swen, what kind of work do you think would suit you best?'"
"A question? That's no trouble, but…"
It was a rather abrupt request, but thankfully Luna asked without any real suspicion. Her trust might run deeper than I had thought.
"Swen, what kind of work do you think would suit you best?"
It was a bit of a roundabout method, but if I wanted to make use of that Intelligence of one hundred, this was the only way. And the conclusion came quickly.
It depends on the will of heaven.
…?
No matter how many times I called it up, the result was the same. It depends on the will of heaven.
I had seen that phrase before. Which meant I could grasp the situation quickly.
The original of this world I had been possessed into—the game Garand Eternity Saga—was an old classic, and as such it supported Hot Seat Multi-play. That meant multiple people could play together: 1P, 2P, and so on. When 1P's turn ended, 2P took over; once every player's turn was finished, a full turn passed. Most games from that era supported the feature.
And it was precisely during Hot Seat Multi-play that Intelligence 100 lost its ability to deliver absolute prophecy. Of course it did. When 1P proposed an alliance to 2P, there was no way a computer of that era could predict what decision 2P would make. So in cases like that—when a player intervened and introduced a variable—strategists would deliver the vague counsel: It depends on the will of heaven.
In other words—what became of me depended on what I chose to do. Fair enough. Even if the prediction said "commerce would be good," I could simply refuse to go. My own actions could not be prophesied. A penalty, if you wanted to call it that—but it hardly mattered. It was only common sense.
"…Swen?"
"Ah, forgive me. I was thinking for a moment."
I idly stroked my chin, as though the conclusion had only just arrived.
"I will explore the surrounding area. There may be hidden talent we have yet to discover."
"Understood. Then I'll leave it in your hands."
I bid her farewell and stepped outside the castle. Even though day had broken, few people were about, and those I did see carried no spark of life in them.
A bleak place.
Not that it mattered—this was a city I would never develop properly before fleeing it anyway. I set out to survey the surrounding region.
A few days later.
Tifa sat in a corner of the market with a sour look on her face, doing absolutely nothing.
What the hell am I even supposed to be helping with?
On the first day she had exchanged greetings with the market merchants and floated the idea of brainstorming ways to revive the place. It hadn't gone anywhere. The villagers, already scraping by, joined in with zero enthusiasm. For Tifa—who had no idea how to handle people in a situation like this—there was nothing to do but barely restrain the fury boiling up inside her.
If she'd had even basic commercial knowledge, she might have taught them something. She knew jack. And she couldn't exactly solve things with force, either. Her actions would become Luna's reputation in this city, and damaging her childhood friend's standing was the last thing she wanted to do.
Seriously, what the hell is that scrawny strategist thinking, dumping this on me?
If he'd told her to train the soldiers, she would have understood. What was he thinking, sending a complete illiterate here?
Luna's been weird too. I was worried she seemed a little foggy and soft, and sure, it's fine that she's giving us firm orders now… but if it's all because of that male strategist, isn't that a huge problem?
Don't tell me… he seduced her? With his face?
Tifa hadn't met many men, but as far as she could tell, Swen was remarkably pretty. Not the overflowing masculine type—more like a beautiful boy who could naturally stir a woman's maternal instincts. Yeah. The kind of face you'd expect on the older brother of the girls who worked in a brothel.
If he's using honey-trap tactics to cloud Luna's eyes and ears… I won't forgive that.
Maybe she needed to rough him up a little.
She was turning that thought over when, for the first time since she'd arrived, a market merchant called out to her.
"Um… e-excuse me, L-Lady Tifa…?"
"?"
Tifa looked at the man who had called her. Boy, more accurately. He stood trembling, thoroughly cowed under her gaze.
"No need to be that scared. All right, kid. What is it?"
"W-well… y-you're the one who came to take charge of the market this time… r-right…?"
"Yeah, that's me."
"Could you… maybe help me a little…?"
The boy pointed somewhere with a finger.
"Our shop… it was completely destroyed by the typhoon a while back… Father's been bedridden, and Mother isn't well either… my little siblings are too young, so I have to repair the whole shop myself, but I can't manage it alone… s-so…"
Ahh. So he wanted some muscle. Beating sitting around doing nothing, at least. Helping people in the castle town this way would raise Luna's reputation too.
"Sure. I'll help. Where do we go?"
"Y-you mean it? Really?"
"Why would I lie to you?"
The boy finally exhaled in relief, then started walking slowly. Tifa followed behind him.
"You've gotta be kidding me…"
Two weeks earlier, a typhoon had swept over Zeiland. Its aftermath still scarred the market in places.
Plenty of other houses collapsed too.
A week of rebuilding had made some progress—but the place that seemed to be this boy's shop had been utterly flattened. It was a pitiful sight.
"We're basically gonna have to rebuild the whole house."
"I-is that… difficult…?"
Tifa ruffled the boy's hair.
"Difficult, nothing. This is exactly the kind of thing people like me are here for. Hey, you!"
"Y-yes, ma'am!"
She flagged down a passing merchant.
"Bring me shovels, and about ten people who can work. I'll pay wages."
"Y-yes, ma'am…!"
The man quickly rounded up about ten able-bodied workers. Even if she'd simply ordered them, fear of her would have made them comply—but offering wages made gathering hands even easier.
"Here are the shovels you asked for."
Tifa took one and set the workers to clearing the wreckage of the collapsed wooden house.
This place was built like absolute garbage.
There had been a typhoon, sure—but the wind and rain hadn't actually been that fierce. A low-development city, so they'd thrown the houses together any which way.
Better to rebuild the foundation properly. So it won't collapse again.
She had a whole month and nothing better to do. Thinking that, Tifa lifted the shovel and started digging into the ground.
How many times had she scraped the earth away?
Clang!
?
A strange sound, and a jolt ran up the arm holding the shovel.
Clang. Clang.
Only after several more strikes did she realize something other than dirt was buried beneath the blade. At first she thought it was a rock—but a rock wouldn't make that sound. This feeling. Metal striking metal.
Tifa cleared the earth around it, then hauled up whatever the shovel had hit.
This is…!
What revealed itself to her was an extremely heavy chest—one that looked terribly old.