I Am Being Mistaken for a Genius Strategist

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The conference has resumed. The difference this time is that Charlua has stepped forward.

I heard from the Foreign Ministry that Councilor Rundis has quite a bit of experience in the council.

I’m not exactly sure about their abilities, but let’s assume their precedence is higher than Charlua’s for now.

“Still, the fact that Charlua came instead suggests… maybe they want to interact with someone who has a bit more resonance with me, the representative of the Empire.”

The absence of the expected figure indicates one of two scenarios: either there are hidden motives, or issues arose that forced a sudden change of course.

There’s a slight possibility for the former, but for now, the latter seems much more likely.

They likely noticed our numbers, which means they probably hastily altered their strategy.

If not, the Demon Tribe would genuinely capture Atria’s Royal Capital.

While it might pass as a symbolic gesture, in practical terms, it’s a failing grade—not to mention the worst-case scenario.

They might have to handle a massive civil turmoil entirely on their own in Nobogord.

Unless someone like Dedorant pops up and shouts, “The Demon Tribe is a great race!” who knows what could happen.

If that were to occur, that symbolism would become a powerful weapon beyond any practicality.

But such a figure doesn’t exist, and even if one were to emerge, acting would be quite difficult.

Currently, to seize Nobogord, they must first consume the council, which isn’t as easy as it sounds.

“Chief of Staff, I’d like to lead this meeting in place of Councilor Rundis.”

“Very well. However, the fact that Lady Charlua has stepped up means we can infer some shift in Nobogord’s feelings, correct?”

Isn’t that what I expected? You guys wanted something different, didn’t you?

I throw out the question, slightly veiling the inner thoughts beneath it.

Normally, they would respond just as indirectly, denying such a thing ever happened.

Even though they’re aware of everything, pretending otherwise is a form of deception between people.

Yet, such skills are naturally required in a setting like this.

“It seems likely.”

Whether Rundis puts on a show of being attentive or not, Charlua simply agrees.

Perhaps they don’t want to provoke us any further since their cards are already on the table.

Or maybe they intend to reassure us, coaxing us into complacency while they explore new avenues.

What’s clear is that Charlua has quite an understanding of me.

Had they genuinely asserted, “We know nothing about this,” it would have been funny, but I wouldn’t find it amusing.

Given the transparent motives, pretending otherwise would annoy the Empire.

“I recently contacted the council and received a response.”

“And what did they say? Were they delighted to accept the Royal Capital?”

“Just the opposite. The Demon Council has stated that Nobogord will abandon Atria’s Royal Capital.”

That’s a swift decision. But it’s not just a matter of making fast choices, is it?

What excuse would they use if I pressed for more information here?

“Is that surprising? I recall them insisting on the Royal Capital at the meeting with the Foreign Ministry. They even refused to trade for the agricultural land or the port.”

When were they so desperate for the Royal Capital, and why change their tune now?

I subtly provoke Nobogord, suggesting they say whatever they want to say.

No matter how thick-skinned one might be, it’s hard to deal with indifference…

“To be honest, Chief of Staff, Nobogord aimed to hold the Royal Capital as a sort of hostage to obtain agricultural land and the port from the Empire.”

Wait, what? Hold on a second! What did this woman just say?

“Our domestic situation has overheated severely, and we became greedy to resolve it. In truth, the Empire must be struggling to ensure its symbolic victory in this war. I thought it might be possible to hand over Atria’s Royal Capital.”

“….”

“I wish to sincerely apologize on behalf of the council regarding this matter.”

Charlua genuinely bows her head in apology.

I tried to keep my stunned reaction in check and stole a glance at Councilor Rundis beside me.

While they seem slightly tense, they don’t appear overly flustered.

This implies that they had previous discussions, and Charlua intended to make such statements.

‘This is… well, this is unexpected.’

What Nobogord has done is a display of greed, or a sort of tantrum towards the Empire.

It’s as if they’re saying, “We’ve lost so much and been injured greatly; can’t we receive a little more?”

But directly asking for it feels off, so they aimed to catch something within reasonable limits.

Naturally, it’s understood that such behavior is not commendable, thus better kept hidden.

Now is not the time to loudly proclaimer, “Actually, we did that.”

Instead, diverting attention while hiding one’s true intentions is standard.

“…You’re being surprisingly honest, Lady Charlua.”

“I thought that hiding it now would only harm the relationship between our two nations. While it may already be in such a state, I still want to speak sincerely and open-heartedly.”

In the midst, Charlua has once again demonstrated her cleverness.

It’s quite ambiguous for me to respond with, “Sure. After all, you’re deceiving us, so just leave.”

Currently, the position the Empire is promoting is literally that of a “benevolent superpower.”

And while Nobogord’s begging might seem petulant, it carries justifiable reasons.

Their situation is entirely different from that of Dedorant, who suffered a backlash. It’s complicated to take immediate action.

How could I spit on their face when they confess, “Let’s speak frankly”?

‘She’s definitely not someone to underestimate.’

We were comrades sharing ideas and mingling on the battlefield.

Yet, for the sake of our respective nations, one can grow bold, or rather, should become so.

Some might find it unpleasant, but I don’t.

In fact, I find it favorable. At least we aren’t deceiving each other throughout.

More importantly, my nation’s interest comes first, and equally so for me.

“Alright then. I accept your apology.”

“Thank you, Chief of Staff.”

“Now, setting that aside, Nobogord renounces Atria’s Royal Capital. In exchange, they will receive either the agricultural land or the port. Is that correct?”

“The council agrees with that reasoning.”

Did you seriously just say neither of the two? I casually flirt with the possibility.

If Nobogord responds, “Can’t we at least have both?” it would kick-start negotiations again.

Yet they avoided that, firmly opting for only one of the two.

“There were many discussions internally. If we acquire a new port, it would resolve many issues, especially with the inability to venture to sea during the winter months; it would also enable trade with the newly included Atria region of the Empire.”

Nobogord does indeed have ports. But come winter, it’s complete closure.

In the past, Atria boldened their way into Nobogord’s waters for a similar reason.

With winter, sailing becomes impossible, and even if they try, concerns over ship destruction arise.

“Conversely, the agricultural land could help alleviate the food shortages that can’t be filled by trade or whaling. This has contributed to a large portion of the reasons for Nobogord’s friction with the Empire.”

Had they just had a bit more land that wouldn’t freeze the crops, Nobogord’s current situation would be starkly different.

This isn’t merely my opinion; it’s a sentiment echoed openly among the Northern Legion of the Empire.

The harshness of Nobogord’s winter is notorious for being exceedingly lethal.

“I’ve contemplated this thoroughly. Thus, I formally request from the Empire…”

“I’m all ears.”

“I humbly ask that the port be granted to Nobogord.”

Seeking a port, eh? Well, I must admit I also desire that a bit more.

Acquiring agricultural land would drastically enhance Nobogord’s stability in ways previously unmatched.

While they would experience internal improvements, military growth would also be significant, no doubt.

If I simulate potential conflict with them as enemies, the Empire stands to win.

The scale of loss… if focused solely on the Northern Legion, it would result in annihilation, and if, like Dedorant, we mobilized the entire army, it would either be about the same or slightly more.

Under the premise that we would face newly stable and better-equipped Demon Tribes, it’s quite terrifying.

On the other hand, seeking a port ultimately suggests choosing stable trade.

And trade requires a stable relationship between the two nations, meaning Nobogord is indirectly stating that they want to improve their rapport with the Empire.

“I understand. The Empire accepts Nobogord’s wishes. Soon through the Foreign Ministry, we will provide more details on the matter…”

“And… I want to talk a little more.”

Want to talk, eh?

“This time, I wish to send the children of Nobogord’s Demon Council members to study abroad in the Empire.”

“Study abroad, you say?”

“Yes. I’m the first study-abroad student here. I can assure you it has been beneficial in many ways. I’ve emphasized this within Nobogord, persuading for the need for further learning.”

“I see.”

“And the council has wholeheartedly accepted my proposal, deciding to send their children to the Empire.”

The Demon Council might be akin to a council comprised of ministers and high nobles within the Empire.

Being part of this council means at the center of power.

If the children of these members are sent abroad, they become highly significant figures in diplomatic terms.

Sending the children of such important individuals is undoubtedly an attractive condition.

From the Empire’s perspective, it alleviates even the slightest worry regarding the north.

This would significantly reduce the chances of any conflict escalating into war.

Nobogord would likely worry about their children, leading them to keep an eye on the Empire.

However, are they suddenly suggesting they send their children to study in the Empire?

Especially since it wasn’t even the Empire’s request but their own?

“This sounds awfully like asking for something in return.”

As I suspected, Charlua paused momentarily before continuing.

“And so, I would like to cautiously propose a marriage alliance to solidify ties between our two nations.”

At Charlua’s words, I let out a sigh. Of course, why hadn’t this come up sooner?

When seeking to redefine inter-government relations, it’s the most convenient and effective avenue.

“A marriage alliance, you say? You’re not suggesting I could be a part of that, are you?”

“Of course not. At least with you, Chief of Staff, to include you in that alliance would be tantamount to declaring war on the Empire, not improving relations.”

A princess, no less, daughter of the Emperor who has accomplished much in various fields.

And now that I’m set to marry such an individual, you suggest I become a party to that alliance?

“Chief of Staff, you’ve already become betrothed to the Empire’s princess. The Emperor has made it publicly known that you belong exclusively to the Imperial Family. I wouldn’t want to directly refute that.”

As Charlua stated, since the Return Ceremony, I’ve become inextricably linked to the Imperial Family.

Unless I commit treason, the Imperial Family will support me.

Conversely, unless they plot my demise, I pledge my loyalty to the Imperial Family.

If anyone were to meddle with that, I presume the Emperor might very well draw his sword.

‘Is this a case of son-in-law affection? Or perhaps a love for a top-tier worker…?’

I can’t even give a definitive answer, and that’s the saddest part. Boo-hoo.