Diplomatic Relations
Having been given a room at a secret safe house near the White House, I enjoyed the American government's lavish hospitality while indulging in Earth's entertainment. In other words, I lounged about eating delicious snacks and desserts while watching TV dramas, variety shows, and the like.
In the other world, that had been a dream I longed for yet could never achieve. The races of that world possessed neither the skill to create such delectable desserts nor the means to produce visual media for the masses. All they knew how to do was wield magic to reshape As's natural environment however they pleased, or fight for their lives against the creatures that lived upon it.
Thanks to that, Earth's media—even when it followed the most obvious plots and tired clichés—felt wonderfully fresh and delightful after so long.
It was around the time I was unilaterally receiving the gifts of civilization the US government kept bestowing upon me free of charge, to a degree that almost made me feel guilty, that America finally came to me with a request.
"—I swear. The United States of America shall establish diplomatic relations with the otherworld of As and shall respect Ms. Astria, representative of As, as an entity equivalent to a sovereign nation…"
Only after Ronald finished reciting the lengthy declaration with his hand upon the Bible did I finally look at him and glare, as if to ask what on earth this was all about.
Anyone would react that way if they were suddenly summoned with the claim that there was a favor to ask, only to be met with a baffling declaration. President Ronald seemed to know as much, for he proceeded to explain the circumstances.
"We, the United States of America, have decided to officially recognize Ms. Astria as the representative of the otherworld of As—as the King of As."
"And what does that have to do with summoning me out of the blue?"
"Of course it does. From this moment on, please understand that the request I am about to make is an official proposal addressed not to Ms. Astria personally, but to the King of As."
Clever. I immediately understood why Ronald was approaching it this way. It had been a long while since I last conversed or bargained with humans, yet discerning what he feared was not difficult.
Just as he had refused without the slightest hesitation the gift I offered him, he was frightened by the idea of my gifts being scattered about without any standard or restraint.
More precisely, he feared a future in which not a select few, but everyone, could receive that gift. And so he had erected a minimum barrier to ensure that not just anyone could freely receive my grace. One such barrier was the official establishment of diplomatic relations between the United States and As.
"Very well. What favor do you intend to ask?"
"Nothing other than—."
What the President of the United States wished to request of me after even swearing an oath in the name of God was none other than the technology to handle the pure-white stone I had gifted them upon arriving on Earth—the stone that was even now performing cold fusion at room temperature in real time.
In short, America was asking me to teach them the new technology known as magic. It was no difficult task. As the creator of magic, and as the pioneer who had spread it among the many races of As, teaching someone magic was not particularly hard.
And so.
"Arthur."
"John Doe."
"Vincent! Looking forward to working with you!"
A special forces soldier, a black-ops agent from a clandestine intelligence organization, a government-affiliated researcher, and more.
Talented individuals who had devoted their entire lives to serving the United States—men who would leap into a fire pit if the government ordered it and would not hesitate to carry out even inhuman experiments—had gathered in one place to learn magic.
They wore vaguely puzzled expressions, having received only a vague explanation of why they had been assembled and remaining unclear on the details.
"—Hmm."
And I, who had come to teach them, also scratched my cheek while trying to hide a slightly embarrassed look. A rather large problem had arisen in the magic lessons I had assumed would not be difficult.
Namely, that neither Earth nor humans possessed any mana. It was a problem I had never encountered when teaching magic to the elves, dwarves, and other races of the other world.
As was a world brimming with mana, and the races I myself had created were fully equipped with the circuits and aptitude to receive it.
I really did well to establish diplomatic relations.
There was a way to solve this problem. I once again requested an audience with the US President, and upon receiving my request he set aside every other matter and prioritized meeting with me.
When I faced President Ronald again, I said,
"I will return to As."
"Pardon? Suddenly… what is the matter?"
"There are a few things I need to bring back if I am to teach magic."
After reassuring the flustered president, who had been startled by my abrupt declaration of departure, I casually added a condition as though it had only just occurred to me.
"I will be bringing someone with me when I return. That will be fine, yes?"
Needless to say, the US President never refused a request of mine.
"All right. Hnngh—!"
—Kyaaaaaaah!
At a farm far removed from the Elf Forest, Alpha yanked a Mandragora from the field, wiped the sweat streaming down her brow, and twisted the still-screaming plant until it died before casually tossing it into the basket on her back.
It was commonly said that elves grew stronger simply by aging and accumulating mana, but that understanding was only half correct. Even elves did not become stronger merely by growing older.
No matter how long-lived an elf might be, becoming stronger required rigorous training and effort. Of course, elves whose lifespans approached infinity were hardly going to devote those endless years solely to training.
They researched ways to grow stronger by means other than training, and one of those methods was elixirs—spiritual herbs, spiritual beasts, spiritual waters, and the like.
Among them, Mandragora was a spiritual herb whose cultivation methods had been perfected by the elves. It used the mana it had stored to curse to death anyone who touched it, then absorbed the nutrients of the corpse. It was an outstanding health food to which the Great One had, upon first sight, immediately given the name Mandragora.
Alpha was the farmer who cultivated and managed these Mandragora. Even though she was one of the few farmers among elves—most of whom were hunters who slew monsters—she took pride and satisfaction in her occupation.
She knew her role was every bit as vital as that of the hunters who maintained security and brought back food.
"Whew. This should be enough for today."
With her back-basket full of Mandragora, Alpha moved to a spot not far from the field and began compressing them to extract their essence. Eating them raw was fine, but ever since she learned that processing them into an extract this way allowed far more mana to be absorbed, she had added this extra step.
By enabling greater mana absorption, the elves' mana increased; when the elves' mana increased, so too did the number and variety of monsters they could hunt. She also felt a sense of fulfillment knowing that her hard work contributed to the entire tribe.
Occasionally a Mandragora that had not quite died would scream and put her in a spot of trouble, but even that, she felt, was trivial compared to the dangers that arose during a hunt.
She had been thinking she would probably continue tending the farm until the day she died.
Then one day,
"Alpha?"
"Ah, Chieftain? What is it?"
"The Great One summons you. Come at once."
Something she had never even imagined happened in her life. For a mere elf like her to be specifically sought out by the Great One nearly made Alpha lose her mind on the spot—but she could not commit the sacrilege of keeping That One waiting.
She quickly collected herself and followed Chieftain Eruel into the World Tree. To her astonishment, the Great One was present in person, not through hologram magic.
Even daring to look upon That One's countenance was an act that could not be permitted. The moment Alpha and Eruel became aware of the Great One's presence, they immediately flattened themselves upon the floor.
"W-we greet the Great One!"
"We greet the Great One. As You commanded, I have brought Alpha."
"Mm—."
Even the brief hum of contemplation was sweet. Alpha nearly lost consciousness, intoxicated by the Great One's voice striking her ears, yet she managed to endure by clinging to the single thought that she must not disgrace herself by fainting in That One's presence.
"Alpha—."
"Y-yes!"
"How has the harvest been of late?"
"Excellent! Extremely excellent!"
"Is that so. Enough to spare some, then?"
"Yes!"
The Great One took an interest in my work…! Half out of her mind with a heart she could not calm at the shocking fact that the Great One had shown concern for something as trivial as a farmer's labor, Alpha was still reeling when That One bestowed upon her yet another mission.
"From this day forth, we shall export Mandragora."
"Yes! …Yes?"
"Alpha, you shall accompany me to Earth, experience the goods of that world, and ascertain what items the elves require."
Export? Until now everything produced among the elves had been consumed among the elves; the very word had been unimaginable. Yet she could not dare contradict That One's words, so Alpha simply pressed herself flatter to the ground and expressed her assent.
Seeing her, That One continued,
"You are to demand the highest price possible. Understood?"
"Y-yessss…!"
As if she needed telling. Vowing to wring every last drop from the trading partners she was about to meet, Alpha headed to Earth with arms full of the Mandragora extract she had produced.
And there,
"Hmm…."
"Is something not to your liking?"
"Ah, n-no. It's not that."
Alpha tilted her head as she regarded the Earthlings who were offering far more generous terms than she had ever imagined.
Huh?
Was trade originally like this? Even when dealing with the dwarves it had been fiercer than this. For an entirely new race to be this free-handed was strange enough to be unsettling.
I-is it really all right to accept this much?
"I hope it is not insufficient. No—it does seem insufficient. We should provide more—."
"W-wait a moment! This is far too much…."
"Please accept it as a token of our sincerity."
Watching the Earthlings who seemed anxious that they could not give even more, Alpha began to wonder whether everything she had known about commerce until now had somehow been wrong.