For Peace? (1)
Though I have no intention of having children.
Men and women form relationships, marry, and live together.
"If the imperial family hears about my connection with Astasia, they'll clap and cheer right away."
"That they will. Even if it's not the Gibraltar heir, they've secured the bloodline of a Sword Master. Not to mention..."
Father picked up the musket and aimed its barrel straight at me.
"You're not surprised after all."
"From experience and instinct alike. I know you won't pull the trigger."
The muzzle was positioned precisely in front of my forehead—a single sheet of paper's distance away. Father held the musket steady, barrel to brow.
"A Gibraltar with a master's talent flowing to the Empire? It'd be a massive loss for Nostrum, a disgrace to Gibraltar."
"Exactly. Father, this is what you should do. When I come of age. And after Noir does too."
I grasped the end of the musket and pressed it to my forehead.
"Cast me out."
When Noir Gibraltar—not Grey Gibraltar—reaches adulthood at twenty and can inherit the margrave title.
"Raise Noir to be a Sword Master, Father. I'll mold him into the Gibraltar Margrave."
"As the eternal loyalist? Swallowing tears, driving out his brother, and devoting himself to the Nostrum royal family?"
"You've seen it perfectly. That's exactly what I'll make him."
Noir was my first insurance policy. Not the wastrel eldest, but the capable second son would claim the heir's seat.
"The orphanage kids already revere Noir as Gibraltar's future."
"Because you ignore them entirely, and Noir looks after them."
"Yes. They want someone who benefits them as heir. Just as I hoped."
Noir was spare parts. Among the magitech machinery of the Gibraltar family, a replacement to keep things running smoothly without Grey.
"When Grey's gone, Noir becomes the real deal. No one will care about the discarded firstborn."
Spares become the core the moment they replace broken parts.
"When the time comes to swap, just shout it out. 'There's a limit to love-blind folly—how can you abandon an imperial granddaughter knowingly?'"
"And what will you do with the time you buy?"
Until I reach adulthood: seven years. Until Noir does: ten.
"Grow stronger."
Still just Beginner Knight level, but the potential was there.
"Not just me—I'll scout others with master's talent and forge them into Gibraltar blades."
"Like Lady Mente, Ethan Sezar, or Robert?"
"Yes."
A pause.
"You think Sir Robert has master's talent too?"
"You chose all four yourself. Doesn't he?"
"Hm... I'm not sure."
I didn't keep Sir Robert close because he'd become a master.
"But it feels good. That Father acknowledges him."
"......"
"Not just Sir Robert—I'll seek out more."
"Like the old Nostrum kings unearthing heroes?"
"Yes."
Heroes were everywhere. They just hadn't shone yet.
"Anyway, I'll bewitch Granddaughter Astasia to buy time. Pretend I'm love-struck while they dream of rosy futures, and build my strength."
"I understand. Your intent. But there's one thing I truly can't comprehend."
Father listened closely, pinpointing what eluded him.
"What is it?"
"That is..."
"Love means bearing children?"
"......"
Father started to shake his head, then stopped.
"That's not what you meant to ask, but the old you would've thought so."
"Grey."
"Children aren't born from wanting them—they come from loving each other—"
"Don't overreach."
Poke.
"...It hurts, Father."
"Do wrong, take the hit. Especially if it's your child."
Father jabbed my forehead with the musket barrel.
"I don't see children as mere byproducts of love."
"......Heh."
"What's so amusing?"
"Nothing."
A little.
"Wow, truly touching. That I'm not some unplanned kid."
Thanks to returning to the past, I had one small thing to be grateful for.
"In honor of your gratitude, one more revelation. This is the real point—and the clear answer to Father's doubts."
"I'll ask first."
Father pulled the musket back and slammed its butt into the floor.
"Total war between kingdom and empire. Assuming Gibraltar loyally serves Nostrum alone."
Father's face grew grave as he asked.
"You think Nostrum will lose, so you're buying time to check the Empire and build strength. Am I wrong?"
"Spot on. Perfectly."
"Even as I, Crimson Gibraltar, wield my sword for Nostrum?"
"Yes."
It might bruise his pride.
"What did you see?"
But that was reality. The future.
"What did you see to believe not just Nostrum, but Gibraltar will fall?"
"Two factors. First: Father's drop in strength after Mother's death."
"......"
Father nodded heavily.
"Unexpected."
"What is?"
"The old you would've beheaded me mid-sentence."
"Now I'm not Charlotte's man—I'm the Gibraltar Margrave questioning his heir."
This absurdity. Crimson Gibraltar distinguishing personal from official.
"Taking it seriously, I see?"
"My son declares he'll live childless with the woman he loves—or fake love for time's sake with someone he doesn't."
"......"
"How could I not take this seriously?"
"No need. Just... keeps being touching. Tears-worthy."
In my heart.
"Second: the Empire's military buildup."
"You think the canyon will fall?"
"No. The canyon holds. But elsewhere will crumble utterly."
Along with old common sense.
"Father, I've read the Imperial Gazette for three years. Watched tech advances, market trends, capital flows."
"I'm listening."
"Listening? Odd for a father hearing this from his son."
"You've studied and analyzed the Empire longer than I have. Of course I listen. So, evidence the Empire wins?"
"Technology."
I drew a circle in the air.
"Wheels roll anything with enough power. Like you pulling that iron container."
"Sword Masters towing ships to invade the kingdom?"
"Something like that."
Towing, even.
Masters, too.
"Seeing beats a hundred words. Father."
I pulled out a quill and sketched on parchment.
"That container you towed—how much punishment from outside could it take?"
"Barring master-level strikes, arrows at least..."
A hexagonal container.
"Father."
I added three round holes beside it, wheels below.
"Iron carriage powered by mana, no horses. A tank."
I drew muskets protruding from it.
"Iron-plated, mana-shielded, firing muskets inside? That's a mobile turret."
"......"
"Can't cross the canyon? You've already thought of two ways."
"You bewitch Astasia and fling the gates wide."
Father eyed the study wall map.
"Or they bypass the canyon, towing those containers as the Empire's 100,000 invade."
"Yes."
Northern snowfields. Beast-polluted zones. Gibraltar Canyon. Elf Forest. Southern straits.
"They'll cross anywhere but the canyon. In ways that shock and terrify the kingdom, utterly unlike before."
"Even so, defeat like that—"
"Because you love Mother."
Nostrum's downfall had one cause.
"If enemies target her, you'll guard only her side, no matter what."
Father wouldn't leave Charlotte Gibraltar's side, whatever happened.
"If I were an imperial strategist, I'd pin eight masters at Gibraltar, then march everything to the capital."
"...Hm."
"Even if the capital falls, would you head there? Say enemies time it worst..."
"When your mother is pregnant."
"Yes."
Father nodded gravely.
"That's why the knights order. Understood. But I still can't believe they'll bypass the canyon."
Fair point.
"Even if masters tow giant containers forward."
The Empire took the easiest path in the future—the wide-open Gibraltar Canyon.
But they prepared backups for if it stayed shut.
Just like the negotiations underway elsewhere now.
"Father. Do wheels only go on wagons or containers?"
"Imperial Gazette mentioned bikes, maglev trains? Mass production? The Empire lacks those resources—"
"No. They'll repurpose existing stock."
Ones that carry troops.
Minimal magitech engine output for power.
Disposable waste if landings fail.
"Father. What's the Empire's surest 'hand of peace' to send the kingdom?"
"Spit it out. Your mother's about to call for me."
"Yes."
I pulled out an Imperial Gazette with the answer illustrated.
"Military downsizing."
"As you know, southern strait pirates are canonically imperial forces."
"Light, fast pirate ships—easy to refit."
"You mean..."
Father scratched his nape.
"The Empire wheels old ships, races them across the sea to land troops in Nostrum?"
"High likelihood. That's our estimate now."
I knew.
Midnight infiltration with small magitech assault boats. Plan B for conquering Nostrum.
The emperor planned five routes.
If Gibraltar hadn't opened, they'd have night-raided southern ports with landing craft.
They chose the safest, surest path: the open Gibraltar Canyon, preserving full strength.
"Worst case."
Not impossible even now.
"A master like you dives in, swims pushing a magitech-engined speedboat from behind? Landings aren't impossible."
"......"
"Can't you?"
"What do you take me for?"
Father tsked in exasperation, handing me the musket and empty case.
"Take it. And sleep early."
"Yes. Of course."
Good children sleep and rise early.
"Good night, Father."
But I couldn't.
To kill the emperor, I needed more strength than now.
That same hour.
Southern straits, between kingdom and empire borders.
Over the silent sea cloaked in darkness.
A mid-sized ship painted black floated gently on the calm waters.
"......"
On deck stood a middle-aged man in uniform, hands clasped behind his back, alone.
In imperial naval attire, he waited silently for something—
Boom!
With an explosion, something burst from the sea. He stepped back.
Splash!
A black shadow thudded onto the deck.
The amorphous mass, at least five meters across, sprawled limp.
"...Your Highness."
"Sorry, sorry. Splashed water? My apologies, General."
The middle-aged man with navy-blue hair, shirtless and soaked, barefoot prodded the deck's shapeless monster.
"No good. Submerging toward the kingdom's impossible with these kraken packs."
Hiss.
"Man, Nostrum didn't seed beasts everywhere. This sea's impassable for troops—they'd all be kraken chow."
Soon, black amorphous blobs slithered up around the ship.
Dozens of adult krakens, said to devour mid-level knights—even advanced ones—from the deep.
"That's why I told you repeatedly. Only busting through the kingdom navy head-on works. Detours are impossible with beasts."
"Sorry. I need to see with my own eyes to be satisfied."
"Crown Prince, Your Highness..."
The middle-aged crown prince, shaking slime from his hands, patted the soldier's shoulder.
"Relax. I don't want war either. You couldn't have fallen for her for real, could you?"
"......If you want my head."
"No, no. Why would I? You saved that girl at risk of your life, creating this peace vibe—letting us dock at kingdom southern ports. Admiral Hailredin, thanks to you, we can engage the kingdom. Haha."
The crown prince guffawed, mouth agape.
"Hold on, tonic time. Want one?"
"......"
"Come on. So good for you. Hm."
He popped the purple stone in his hand into his mouth, crunching and swallowing it like candy.
"Rough waters indeed. Without the kingdom navy clearing paths, landings are a pipe dream. Not like I'm swimming pushing ships from behind. Haha!"
"Who'd order Crown Prince—no, a master—to do that?"
"Exactly. Whoever did would be one of two: madman or like me."
The crown prince cracked his neck and grinned.
"Peaceful resolution's best. Beats needless blood."
"......"
"Not for a soldier's ears? Haha. Still, peace beats war for you too now?"
"If Your Highness commands battle, I'll take up arms this instant."
"Thanks. True soldier. Proper general. So."
The crown prince raised his pinky, smirking slyly.
"For these peace talks, you'll be Nostrum's hostage."
Admiral Hailredin closed his eyes silently.
"As a symbol of peace to hand over. Have fun with the girl you saved. Kids would be icing. That place'll be Empire soil in ten years anyway."
"...If it's the Empire's order."
"Yes. Bit primitive, but think of it as rural convalescence. Rest up. Someday, later."
The crown prince aimed his pinky at the night sky.
"For the day this ship flies over the seas."
Next morning.
Imperial Daily page 5 ran "Armuk Sea Adult Krakens Massacred," but no one paid much mind.