Arms Reduction
“So you're saying you're going to... cut off Sachsen, sever the roads? You serious?”
“Yes, Lord Byeon Gyeongbaek.”
“Aigoo~ Aigoo~ What the hell, I must be crazy.”
Manrmursk's Border Count pressed his palm to his forehead as if he could physically grasp his pounding headache. The impulsive binge from last night, the stress of footing the bill for the emperor's unwanted tour, and now Seolhwa's dead-serious expression—it all hammered at him from every angle. He was experiencing a whole new paradigm of dizziness that left no room to breathe.
“I had a bad feeling, and damn if it wasn't right... To think I dragged myself out here in a carriage at the crack of dawn just to hear this fresh pile of bullshit... Aigoo, my head, aigoo...”
“Your reaction just now has only made me more certain.”
“That you and I are both idiots?”
“That my plan will work.”
If there'd been booze in the carriage, he would've knocked it back without a second thought. It was a good thing Gustav, who couldn't stand the sight of his liege day-drinking, had cleared it out beforehand—otherwise, the count would've been plastered before they even reached Palatium.
“Just to be sure, you do know what kind of family Sachsen is, right?”
“They're one of the top three strongest houses in the empire right now. How could I not?”
What kind of family was Sachsen? If you asked anyone to name the house that had skyrocketed during the Expansion Wars, they'd all point to Sachsen without hesitation. While other nobles dragged their feet, Sachsen had jumped in first and fiercest, answering the emperor's call to arms. They'd poured in massive funds—enough to shake the foundations of their house—and sent nearly every knight and private soldier to the front, leaving only the bare minimum at home.
And that gamble paid off in spades. They snagged territories three times their original size, all prime real estate. The procession of war spoils wagons supposedly stretched beyond sight. Their knights and soldiers, tempered in countless bloody battles, returned as the continent's most battle-hardened veterans. On top of that, the previous emperor granted them unprecedented road monopoly rights through imperial statute. Truly, every road in the empire led to Sachsen.
“And you know they built their power on those roads?”
“Yes. I know that full well.”
'Better than anyone in this world.'
Love your enemy. The saintly verse preached forgiveness, but reality was a bit different. If you come to love someone, what happens? You make an effort to know them better. Even the smallest habits matter—keep tabs on where your enemy is now, what they're doing, where they're headed next. Like a schoolgirl nursing a crush.
The more you know your foe, the higher your odds of successful revenge. And so, Seolhwa had loved Sachsen dearly all these years.
“So what do you think Sachsen has set up on the major roads and checkpoints?”
“Road Guards.”
“Ding ding ding. And what kind of folks are those Road Guard bastards?”
“A military unit split off from Sachsen's knight order and private soldiers...”
“Too wordy.”
“Veterans of the last war.”
Rights come with duties. Duties bring responsibilities, and failing them shakes your rights. That absurd road monopoly came with the obligation to maintain security and road conditions. Thus, Sachsen created the Road Guards, cycling them along every imperial highway. Travelers said you'd run into them sooner or later on any journey—today, too, they were guarding some stretch of road somewhere.
“And you, knowing all that, think you can hit the roads and shake Sachsen?”
“Even you think so, don't you, my lord? That's why it'll work.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Even Manrmursk's Border Count—you, who commands one of the empire's strongest armies—holds Sachsen and their Road Guards in high regard. If you do, imagine what lesser powers think. Only desperate bandits with nothing left to lose would tangle with them—and lose their heads for it.”
The count's face twisted in obvious bafflement at the obvious point. Even with the extra nudge, he wasn't getting it. Or maybe he just couldn't be bothered.
“Excluding suicidal bandit packs, when was the last time the Road Guards saw real action?”
“We're not at war now—how could they get combat experience...? Ah.”
A sword left too long in its sheath rusts. No one doubted the Road Guards were elite, but they weren't at their peak. Their towering reputation scared off bandits, who learned to steer clear—and the Guards grew complacent. They weren't local peacekeepers, after all. Just road security. Unless bandits blocked and fortified a highway, there was no reason for the Guards to pick a fight.
“Was it to forget that reckless war we barely won? After the armistice, the empire rushed to bury anything war-related. The big one was the demobilization of private armies—everyone except the emperor and some border nobles like us.”
If only you cut your forces, it's worrisome—but if Lord Kim next door and Lord James beyond him do the same, it's fine. The emperor led the disarmament to rebuild the war-ravaged heartlands. With everyone relaxing their militaries, border skirmishes dropped sharply. No external foes meant internal friction could've flared, but reduced forces made aggression too risky for any lord.
Enough troops to hold territory and patrol trade routes, but not for conquest. As skirmishes faded, they focused on security. Bandits faced a nightmare march: local armies near domains, Road Guards on highways, sweeping them clean. Trade boomed under safer travel.
“Naturally, the bandits the Road Guards faced grew weaker. Embarrassingly so—they're said to tuck tail and flee at the sight of a Road Guard banner.”
“So... you wanna round up some mercenaries and take down those atrophied Road Guards?”
“A thorough mobile strike on key points? It's not impossible.”
The most realistic thing out of Seolhwa's mouth all day in this carriage. The count's face grew complicated as he mentally tallied the abacus beads.
“Your 'plan'—generous to call it that—has two glaring flaws, even off the top of my head.”
“What are they, my lord?”
“First flaw: it's not just the Road Guards who haven't seen action in forever. Those 'water bottles' the emperor and Sachsen Duke are dumping on me? They probably can't remember their last fight either.”
As the count pointed out, the Road Guards—having at least tangled with bandits regularly—likely had fresher combat experience. Disarmament cut skirmishes and bandit hunts, reducing mercenary hires. Ending those contracts enabled even deeper cuts. In an empire with no jungle predators, mercenaries became unwanted hounds everywhere. Herding them into one spot before they caused trouble? That must be the emperor's or Sachsen Duke's scheme.
“Fair enough. But it's still three thousand men. We can hit multiple spots hard and fast, then vanish.”
“I doubt it, but... fine, say we buy that. The next problem's bigger.”
Their views clashed fiercely amid the rocking carriage. Seolhwa was starting to crave a drink himself. He'd dangled day-drinking as bait to lure the count out, but now it tempted for real.
“So what's that problem...?”
Pfiiiing!--- Knock knock.
“My lord, we've arrived at Palatium.”
“Already? Shit, places you hate always get here too damn fast. What're you waiting for? Get out.”
“My lord, you haven't told me what that next problem is.”
“Oh, that? What do you think it is?”
It was like an itch he couldn't quite scratch. Seolhwa saw the risks, the gaps—but predicting the count's “bigger problem” eluded him.
'Operating costs? Command structure? Comms? That's all I can think of...'
“To be honest, so many issues come to mind I can't hazard a guess.”
“At least you're honest. Even your bullshit doesn't grate.”
Jepeto and Helena—surely ahead of the carriage—weren't in sight. Gustav at the entrance said they'd gone in ahead, stomachs growling.
'How long since those fried-egg specials? Must've really hated riding with the count.'
The rift between them ran deeper than Seolhwa had imagined.
“My lord, your schedule for today.”
“Besides the audience with His Majesty, what schedule? I was hoping to sniff some noble ladies today.”
“I'd love to join you then, my lord.”
“Kid's brutally honest.”
Gustav's eyebrow twitched at the vulgar banter between an elector prince and the deputy warden of the empire's top-secret prison.
“Anyway, I gotta go see the emperor and Sachsen now. You puzzle out my problem till then.”
“Too tough—any hints?”
Yesterday, Helena's golden plaque had bypassed the guards. Today, the count himself was the free pass. Skipping the line again, Seolhwa drew stares from noble ladies. Looked like he'd get a whiff of fine perfume today.
“Don't you know give and take? I need something in it for me.”
“It's not much, but could you lean in?”
“What?”
Ears full of suspicion, the count still bent close.
“Those 'water bottles' His Majesty and the Sachsen Duke are foisting on you? They're actually... completely disarmed.”
For a joke hint, it was a bombshell that rocked the count's eardrums.