Fathers and Sons Have Their Own Bond
Fathers and sons have their own bond.
The news that Kara Kingdom had begun war preparations sent the diplomatic corps of the Yosrahim Empire and Grollmog's forces into a frenzy.
Currently, 20,000 troops from Kara were deployed along the border with the orc territories, and soldiers were training across the kingdom. This could have a massive impact on any future war between the Yosrahim Empire and Grollmog, so they had every reason to scrutinize it closely.
But thanks to Kara's moves, another country got caught in the crossfire: the Bastain Kingdom. With their enemy preparing for war, they couldn't afford to relax.
"Baekmyeon! What the hell are you people doing?!"
In the palace, my office. A hulking bald man burst in like a storm. It was Fabius Duke. He'd tagged along with the Bastain king's envoy, and no sooner had he arrived than he was causing a scene.
I welcomed the duke warmly. I'd been hoping for a reaction from Bastain.
"Come on in, Gramps. Long time no see."
Fabius slammed his hands on my desk, glaring at me.
"You guys are gearing up for war?"
"Yeah."
"What the hell for?!"
"The orcs are mustering a huge army. Figured we should get ready."
The duke narrowed his eyes.
"How are we supposed to believe that?"
I nodded along.
"Yeah, fair point. No reason to trust it."
"Then why pull this crap if you know that?"
"What else can we do? A neighboring country with a shared border is mobilizing a massive force. We can't just sit on our asses."
The duke shook his head in disbelief.
"What a mess. I was even thinking of sending a congratulatory delegation after hearing rumors you'd marry Kara's queen. This is like a bolt from the blue."
"I get it, Gramps. You think we want to prep for war? We're just as baffled."
"Even so, think about our kingdom! If you mobilize, we have to as well, since we share a border."
I stood, guiding the fired-up duke to the sofa.
"You've got Polkin Gate anyway."
"But the sea route's wide open. Didn't you just announce mass production of large ships?"
"That's for boosting maritime trade volume. We're expanding trade goods."
The duke shot me a sharp look.
"What kind?"
"We're buying food in bulk. Recent immigrants have spiked our population, straining supplies. Plus, we wanna trade with border orc tribes."
The duke perked up a bit. Bastain did have surplus food thanks to its climate.
"How much?"
"100,000 tons for this year, to start."
"At what price?"
"Market rate. Wheat at about 2 silver leafs per ton."
That equated to 10,000 gold leafs based on wheat alone. Add high-value processed meats like ham and sausages, and the trade volume would explode.
"Not bad. Where from?"
"Cokt Kingdom and Biltrian Kingdom."
The duke chided me.
"Why go that far? Buy from us in Bastain."
"Come on, why the sudden push? Enemy one minute, begging to export food the next?"
"Baekmyeon, don't play dirty. You're exporting your rail system to us too."
"You guys begged for it. We didn't wanna sell."
Not wrong, but the duke pushed back shamelessly.
Bastain was a young nation born from a coup, so its political base was shaky. Exporting food now would win favor with southern grain lords.
"Baekmyeon, you're draining our gold abroad. Give us a break."
"What about the tech we leaked from the rail exports?"
"But Kara's doing great. Politics stabilized, budgets and trade in the black."
I feigned outrage.
"Why the grudge? Bastain's heir to mighty Lobros Kingdom."
"We've fought two wars! One with you, one civil."
"Why start a civil war? Just get along."
My gall made the duke explode.
"It's all your fault!"
"Me? How?"
"Don't play dumb!"
I scratched my side casually.
"Sure, not zero blame. But Bastain was born because of it."
"So what? It's divided and weakened."
I rested my chin thoughtfully. That was concerning. Bastain needed strength for the apocalypse ahead.
"How about this?"
"What?"
"Lend some troops. 20,000 on the orc plains border feels too thin."
The duke snorted.
"You joking? Why trust you with our army?"
"We'll pay salaries."
"You covering support troops' pay?"
"Yeah. Food, everything. Just bring the gear."
The duke looked tempted.
Maintaining an army cost a fortune. If Kara footed the bill, Bastain gained massively. Plus, wages would flow back home post-deployment, aiding economic recovery.
"Still, aiding an enemy?"
"No eternal foes in diplomacy. Align on interests."
I kept pressing. Teaming with Bastain would amp pressure on Grollmog, boosting my plan's odds.
"And the food imports?"
"Yeah, 60,000 tons allocated."
"Hmm..."
As he pondered, I scratched my side slyly.
"Gramps, time for Bastain to flex internationally. Join us this time."
"We lack the capacity."
"But this Yosrahim-Grollmog war decides continental hegemony. Can't sit it out."
True—top dogs clashing for Prosia supremacy, maybe world domination.
"So, raise the stakes?"
"Nah, I plan to mediate and stop it."
The duke's eyes widened.
"Baekmyeon, what're you scheming?"
"Both sides pool strength for survival."
"Why's our survival at stake?"
I unrolled a continental map on the table.
"Look. Yosrahim wins? They'll expand globally from rear stability, maybe conquer the continent. Bad for us and Bastain."
"True."
"Flip it: Grollmog's orcs overrun Yosrahim? Human lands retreat, orcs boom on fertile soil. Too strong—bad for us humans."
The duke stroked his chin.
"So stalling the war's best?"
"Exactly."
"Fair. Yosrahim and Grollmog at odds suits us. How?"
"What we're doing: military pressure."
"But it only squeezes Grollmog."
I smirked, shrugging.
"Could also reinforce them instantly."
The duke crossed his arms.
"Tightrope walking? Tricky."
"Yeah, not easy. But doable."
"Why?"
"Neither wants war. Yosrahim mobilized under Cloud Duke's threat; Grollmog wary of him, avoids full war."
"And with the culprit Cloud Duke gone, both sides are in limbo."
"Yep. Mediation should work."
The duke nodded, semi-convinced.
"Makes sense. Risks: Grollmog misjudges Cloud Duke dead, or he shows sparking war."
"That's why we team up. Threaten to smash whoever strikes first."
My plan: form a three-nation alliance if war starts. Invaders face three foes—daunting.
No easy war.
"Not bad. How many?"
"30,000 to start. Diplomatic backup."
"Got it. I'll talk to His Majesty."
"Thanks. Let's make it work."
We shook hands.
Bastain accepting meant 50,000 border troops, plus an ally pressuring both sides.
Bastain escapes fiscal strain, recovers faster; Kara diversifies food imports, scales trade.
Fabius, contacting home, convinced Bastain's king for immediate troop dispatch. Mutual gain trumped enmity.
Kara breathed easy. 30,000 reinforcements quelled rear fears. Now, just brace for orc plains—fake threat though it was.
"Grand Prince, you worked hard. Kara's relieved thanks to you."
Palace garden tea room. Padilla cheered me warmly.
I smiled at Shura soothing Sharl in the corner.
"No biggie. For our son."
Padilla gazed at him too.
"Yes."
I eyed her.
"Any peep from Yosrahim or Grollmog diplomats?"
"No notable reactions."
Big shots stonewalling.
50,000 troops deployed, Kara-Bastain allied—a war game-changer. Yet no outreach.
We could approach first, but that weakens leverage. First mover loses.
"Not good..."
"Why?"
"Diplomacy beats war—no lives lost, less spending."
"True."
I stretched.
"They'll come. Food exports progressing?"
"Yes. Grain caravan left Kara a month ago, passed Nasl."
Capital Kara shipped surplus to border Bamir Fortress.
3,000 tons planned—feeds 10,000 for a year. After transit waste and army rations, exportable under 500 tons.
Still, enough to win border orcs' hearts. Their food woes ease fast.
"Prioritize food exports. Swords wage war; plenty halts it."
"Yes."
I sidled to Shura holding Sharl.
"Shura, how's our baby?"
She beamed.
"Adorable."
"Right?"
Padilla joined us.
"Shura, your turn for a baby."
Shura eyed Sharl wistfully.
"Not yet. After Master."
"When?"
"Dunno. Aura Blade hold time's lengthening—soon maybe."
I said leisurely.
"No rush. Aura Blade means Master's inevitable. Practically there, just clumsy."
"Yes. Guess I'll think kids now."
I rolled my eyes. Shura pregnant? Year without nights together.
"Doesn't mean stop growing. Critical time for you."
Padilla's sharp gaze pinned me.
"Grand Prince, no ulterior motives?"
I waved frantically.
"None! For Shura's sake. She's obsessed with Master."
"Everyone dreams of it."
"Sure, but Shura starved for it."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
Padilla eyed Shura.
"Why so keen on Master?"
Shura averted eyes.
"Wanna show off."
"Huh? You hide Great Saintess status."
Shura fiddled with Dalahan.
"Dalahan's not my power. Glad, but no pride."
"I see."
I took Sharl from Shura, letting them chat.
Sharl eyed me warily. I glared back fiercely. Toddler's already rebelling.
Glancing at Padilla, I tossed him sky-high. Flailing midair, giggling. Caught gently, I grinned wolfishly.
"Rebel against Dad, get punished."
Sharl tensed more. Prepping another toss, killing intent hit my nape.
"Grand Prince!"
I turned sheepishly.
"Oh, Padilla? Sharl loves aerial play."
"Still dangerous!"
She snatched him, soothing as she turned.
Women so petty. Men bond among men; fathers and sons have theirs. Why can't they get it?
Fathers and sons have their own bond.