36.
Edwin sat on his throne, his posture languid, watching the all-too-familiar squabbling unfold before him.
The topic of this dogfight was the renegotiation of Bellot’s reparations. Although the Emperor and the Crown Princess had already set a firm course, the nobles were bickering over the morality of the decision.
The instigator was Count Harkan, a relative of the House Camelot.
“To slash the reparations by half after merely tapping them on the wrist? Bellot was the vanguard of the Kingdom Alliance. Do you have any idea how many Imperial soldiers perished by the blades of the Bellot army?”
Count Harkan had spent the duration of the conflict hiding in his territory at the western edge, offering nothing but excuses, and had only committed his troops once the Imperial Army had already secured the advantage.
As he spoke with the feigned eloquence of a veteran who had supposedly spent his youth on the battlefield, Marquess Ismail of the East retorted, looking utterly dumbfounded.
“Does anyone support this because they like Bellot? I have reports that hundreds are starving to death even in their capital.”
“If you scour the royal warehouse, you’ll barely find a few sacks of wheat. Do you have some brilliant way to extract what doesn’t exist?”
“You must extract at least those few sacks! It is the just price of the victor.”
Count Harkan refused to back down, and the confrontation sharpened.
“A just price, fine. But tell me, how are the soldiers—who haven’t even tasted a chunk of black bread—supposed to hold back the Monster Wave? If Bellot fails to block the tide, that burden falls squarely on the Empire. And winter is only months away.”
In the end, Marquess Ismail held the logical upper hand.
“That is…”
At the mention of the Monster Wave, Count Harkan fell silent.
For over a century, monsters had begun to lose their sanity every winter, abandoning their habitats to swarm civilian villages. During this period, known as the ‘Monster Wave,’ the creatures grew exceptionally strong and began hunting in groups, even those that were typically solitary or mindless.
Despite decades of investigation by mages and researchers, the cause remained a mystery. The nations of the continent could only brace for the impact, fending off the waves as a temporary measure. It was a perennial headache for every kingdom.
The Empire was fortunate; it possessed few rugged mountain ranges to serve as monster habitats, and consistent subjugations had kept the population low. The true danger lay in countries like Bellot, which bordered the Tudik Mountains—the largest monster habitat in the region.
The Tudik Mountains teemed with high-ranking beasts, even outside of winter. Nations that drained their coffers fighting the tides inevitably collapsed, one by one. That Bellot still maintained its name as a kingdom was a testament to the sheer ferocity of the Tudik monsters. Even now, serving as a desperate breakwater and housing refugees from fallen neighbors, Bellot lost thousands of citizens every year.
Because of this, the nobles were divided by their own interests. The eastern nobles, most vulnerable to a collapse of the Bellot buffer, pushed for lenient negotiations. The western nobles, safely insulated by distance, invoked the “honor of the Empire” to oppose them.
The fervor of the eastern nobles was born of necessity, but the westerners—cloaking their greed in the guise of honor—were not to be underestimated. Though the easterners were outnumbered, neither side would yield, and the chamber dissolved into a cacophony of shouting.
“Stop.”
Unable to stand it any longer, Edwin intervened.
As if the preceding posturing and vitriol had been nothing more than a performance, the hall went dead silent.
*They say dogs on a leash bark the loudest,* Edwin thought, narrowing his eyes and sighing.
His stance had been decided long before the meeting began. He turned his gaze toward the western faction, his voice cutting through the air like cold steel.
“If this negotiation falls through, I will conscript and station soldiers from the West at the eastern border. If the western forces are insufficient, we will pull aid from the South and North as well.”
Near the Tudik Mountains, monsters frequently descended into villages even outside the winter months. With Bellot weakened by defeat and drought, those beasts were already drifting across the border and into the Empire. The numbers were rising, and they were expected to surge once winter fully set in.
It took twenty skilled knights to bring down a single rampaging high-ranking monster. For the wealthy West, that level of military drain would be a crippling blow.
“If you agree to provide the troops, I will reconsider the terms of the negotiation.”
The mouths of the western nobles, previously so eager to posture from the safety of their estates, snapped shut. They had only recently seen the Emperor return after eight years away, but they were beginning to realize he never spoke in vain. If they defied him, he would not hesitate to reset the negotiation and deploy their precious troops to the treacherous eastern front.
The risk was too great. Even the southern and northern nobles, who had been quietly bolstering the western cause, retreated instantly.
“Then I shall take it that this agenda is passed unanimously.”
To forestall any further dissent, Edwin swiftly closed the matter, sending a chilling glance toward Count Harkan. The Count, serving as the de facto leader of the western faction in the absence of the Duke Camelot, felt the weight of the Emperor’s presence and retreated into silence.
Sensing their momentum had been shattered, the western nobles moved on to the next topic with desperate haste.
“I hear the visit of the Bellot envoy has been delayed.”
“They say the Crown Princess’s divorce proceedings are behind schedule.”
“The royal wedding must be finalized before the winter frosts freeze the roads.”
“To do that, a consort must be confirmed first, must he not?”
“Indeed. One cannot hold a wedding without a groom.”
It was the issue of the royal marriage between Bellot and the Empire. Although the topic shift was sudden, their coordinated exchange betrayed long-standing planning.
*This will take forever, too,* Edwin thought, glancing out the window.
Bellot’s land was barren, but its monster byproducts were invaluable. In the Empire, where monsters were rare, these goods were a luxury. The nobles were eager to secure a foothold in Bellot’s future, hoping to monopolize the trade.
*Since the reparations have been reduced, the flow of byproducts will slow. They’re greedier than ever.*
They were maneuvering to install their own puppets as the consort of Bellot, praising their preferred candidates while disparaging others, all while pretending to be concerned about the timeline.
*Are they moonlighting as matchmakers now?*
It was ironic; they showed more passion for this match than for the marriages of their own children. Count Harkan was particularly vocal, protecting the western candidate as if he were his own son—a man so degenerate he had been shipped off to the Temple to hide his failures.
It was excessive. Even accounting for the high market value of the byproducts, the obsession felt unnatural.
It was as if they had a specific reason for needing such a massive quantity of monster remains, and they were willing to tear the Empire apart to get it.