Chapter 312
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 312
Chapter Title: You Have a Cheat Key, Right?
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Rimon could even raid Apophis's warehouse.
Watching Aynsha send fervent cheers filled with boundless faith and trust from her expressionless face, he pressed his temples for a moment.
Rimon quietly opened his mouth.
"You idiot princess, I'm a swordsman, not a burglar."
"I... I like phantom thieves too."
"...To begin with, that's not what I meant. I have no intention of doing any plundering."
"...?"
As if she couldn't comprehend the meaning.
Aynsha tilted her head blankly, and Li Chingwei calmly asked,
"Do you have some kind of plan?"
"It's not exactly a grand scheme. I just happen to know an expert in matters like this."
"An expert... you say?"
"Yeah."
Li Chingwei wore a puzzled expression.
An economic war between the Seven Dragon Society factions was an unprecedented catastrophe in history.
Even the Golden Lord might exploit the gap for profit, but resolving the crisis itself? That seemed impossible.
She simply couldn't guess who this expert was that had Rimon so calmly confident in solving the problem.
Rimon chuckled at her.
"Why, there's one person. A cheat key that works for both war and governance."
"...Ah."
The moment she heard that.
Li Chingwei finally realized.
Who the expert Rimon was referring to was, and why he was so assured of resolving the issue.
"You plan to bring that person here?"
"By now, things should be wrapping up on their end anyway. I've got a favor to call in besides."
Rimon chuckled.
And as he thought of the one who specialized in magically resolving such thorny situations, a slightly mischievous smile crossed his face.
"That's what connections are for, right?"
Leaders generally fall into two broad types.
One is the commander type, with keen eyes for talent, who runs the organization by appointing capable subordinates.
The other is the genius type, whose own abilities are exceptional, leading from the front and solving every problem personally.
Each has pros and cons, but typically, mastering just one type is enough to rule effectively.
Of course, that's for the 'average' case.
For those who govern massive organizations.
Especially rulers of entire nations, mastery of both types is essential.
Personal talent alone has limits in governance, and relying solely on subordinates makes bold decisions difficult.
And if they fail at both?
They're ousted from power or ruin the country.
"...So."
In that sense, she was undoubtedly an exceptional ruler.
It was from a while back, but she'd successfully led a fairly large nation before.
But at this moment.
She could only wear a strange expression before a dilemma even the world's strongest empire had never faced under her rule.
"You're telling me to come up with a solution?"
"Something like that."
"Doesn't that strike you as a bit unreasonable?"
[That's putting it mildly...]
Yuna Kyung unwittingly nodded and muttered at her question.
But Rimon didn't so much as twitch an eyebrow.
"Well, from where I'm standing, you could pull it off easily enough."
An antique dress.
Crimson curls like spilled blood.
Even a beauty mark beneath her left eye.
She exuded such bewitching allure that it made even another woman's heart race.
Gazing at the sultry beauty, Rimon continued with a mocking tone.
"Right? Former Emperor Cir."
"It's Cir, kiddo."
The primordial witch who stole magic from the gods with her demigod bloodline, and once emperor of the mightiest empire.
Circe.
Or Cir, as she was called.
Cir spoke as if utterly exasperated.
"I'd just finished sorting out the lineage of those 27th-generation brats and was finally catching my breath, and now you drag me here to dump this on me? Isn't that too much?"
"You know slaves don't get breaks—you gotta work 'em nonstop."
"That's ancient history, kiddo."
"Ancient? Just 100 or 200 years ago, this would've been lavish treatment for a slave."
Yuna Kyung looked queasy at how he treated centuries like nothing.
But the millennia-old archmage, whose experience surpassed even Rimon's, accepted it as a matter of course.
"Forgot how the white slaves revolted over that?"
"If you wanna revolt, go ahead and try."
"I'm not ready to die yet."
In the end, Cir raised the white flag.
No matter her legendary status as an archmage, she had no chance picking a fight with Rimon.
"Told you, you should've accepted my offer of alliance back then, you old hag."
"How was I supposed to know it'd come to this?"
Cir truly regretted it.
She'd thought resolving the London incident would keep things light with Rimon—no deep ties, or at worst minor help every few years.
Not receiving orders like this after just a few months.
She was already second-guessing the 20-year slave contract.
But it was too late to back out now.
Stopping her grumbling, Cir asked more seriously.
"So, kiddo, what exactly do you want me to do?"
"You have to come up with the solution, old hag."
"Don't be ridiculous. I've lived a long time, sure, but I've never dealt with a massive economic war like this."
Cir stated flatly.
Of course, she had been the absolute ruler of the Roman Empire.
Her experience was leagues beyond most, once aiming for world conquest.
But that was two millennia ago.
An era before economics even existed, let alone economic warfare.
Asking her to fix this was like telling a sixty-year-old blacksmith to invent a smartphone—absurd.
"Quit exaggerating."
Rimon snorted at Circe's words.
And jabbed back.
"You may not have handled economic wars, but food shortages? You've been through those plenty."
At that moment.
Cir wore a peculiar expression.
No matter the era, famines and shortages were inevitable in the distant past.
But during her reign, the Roman Empire never suffered one, no matter how severe the drought.
For one reason.
A certain treasure held by their emperor.
"Dagda's Cauldron (Undry), huh?"
"Cornucopia would be ideal, but even you couldn't manage that, old hag."
"...Kiddo, you really say the most outrageous things."
Cir sighed.
Realizing too late.
What Rimon had counted on wasn't the former emperor's wisdom, but the archmage Circe's power.
This dusty swordsman had zero intention of headache-inducing economic countermeasures.
Instead, he'd rely on the old ways he knew well...
Swords, magic, and treasures to solve everything.
Aynsha, grasping Rimon's intent, nodded vigorously.
"I've heard of Dagda's Cauldron too."
"If you know it, Aynsha, it must be a magic artifact, right?"
"Yes. The divine relic that sustained an entire nation during Rome's great famine, birthing infinite food."
[What? One cauldron fed the whole nation?]
Yuna Kyung's eyes went wide.
Having witnessed the London barrier, she knew magic could achieve the impossible.
But even she couldn't believe such a treasure existed.
"Is that even possible?"
Li Chingwei felt the same.
Having seen countless spells from archmages and saints... no, precisely because of that, she knew how astonishing it was.
But Aynsha, well-versed in magic history as a Holy Alliance priestess, nodded.
"Even for a divine relic, it's rare. That's why Dagda's Cauldron was Rome's national treasure."
Rome's world domination.
Its relentless conquests.
Circe's magic played a part, but Dagda's Cauldron was crucial too.
With infinite food, they endured any famine and waged campaigns without supply worries.
"Exactly. Dagda's Cauldron was one of the Silver Age's greatest treasures."
Cir readily agreed.
The divine relic crafted by An Dagda, the great old god called the father of the Celtic gods, and bestowed upon humanity.
In utility alone, it rivaled even the London barrier—a treasure among treasures.
"But it can't be used anymore."
[Huh? Why not?]
"It shattered when I was sealed in the London barrier."
Cir said languidly.
Her battle back then—the so-called Demon Queen versus the three archmages dubbed the Lady of the Lake—was one of the Silver Age's fiercest wars.
A clash that could shatter even divine relics.
Hearing that, Li Chingwei turned to Rimon with a strange look.
"Sword Duke, did you not know Dagda's Cauldron was destroyed?"
"I knew."
"Then why call Cir... don't tell me...?"
"Why 'don't tell me'?"
Rimon curled his lips slyly.
"If it's broken, just make another one."
[Who?]
"Who else? The old hag right here."
[...Hold on. Didn't you say Dagda's Cauldron was made by an incredibly powerful god?]
"Yeah."
[And you think she can recreate it exactly?]
"Absolutely impossible."
Aynsha answered Rimon's reluctant question with a blank face.
"It's divine because a god made it. Even archmages or saints can craft relic-level artifacts, but not the relics themselves."
"Normally, yeah."
Rimon agreed readily.
Magic was ultimately mimicry of the gods' gifts.
The power humans gained to imitate divine miracles that intervene in providence itself.
But imitation is just that.
No archmage or saint, even at magic's pinnacle, could surpass an incarnated god's might.
The Silver Age's strongest spell, the London barrier, was completed only by borrowing divine power.
"But you're no ordinary archmage."
Rimon knew that better than anyone, yet didn't hesitate.
He just turned to the still-sultry-faced Cir and asked mischievously,
"Right? Demon Queen."
In the ancient Silver Age.
She rebelled against the gods.
Built the world's strongest nation.
The gods allied with the three archmages, creating the London barrier to barely seal her—a magic queen.
The Silver Age's greatest witch, legendary even among archmages, stared at Rimon before letting out a soft sigh.
"Kiddo, when you put it like that, it's embarrassing to say no."
"That's the point."
As if fed up with his audacity.
She stared at Rimon a moment.
Then chuckled and spoke.
"Fine, kiddo. If you're asking that nicely, I can make one."
"Of course you can."
Asking a legendary smith over sixty to invent a smartphone might be unreasonable.
But having them forge a masterwork sword? That's expected, not a stretch.
As Rimon snorted, Cir held up three fingers and spoke languidly.
"But kiddo, to pull off that 'expected' feat you mentioned, three challenges must be overcome first."