Not only that, but upon returning to the empire, the number who wanted to quit the knighthood was 3,788. Six percent of the sixty thousand knights who participated in the battle on the Katze Plain lost their courage.
On top of that, there were already several thousand who complained of anxiety or sleepless, frightened nights. According to the reports he’d seen, at least two hundred were mentally unstable.
Knights were professional warriors, and there were costs to cultivating them.
And it wasn’t just money. It took time to train them. It wasn’t just a matter of grabbing a random guy off the street and telling him, Starting tomorrow, you’re a knight.
Where could he pull funding to cover the expenses the empire would need to fill this hole?
Under these circumstances, it would be a big risk to purge nobles and use the seized assets as funding.
But then the second issue was the knights’ petition.
Jircniv allowed the knights to express their opinion directly to him. Nominally, the reasoning was that there were certain things only those who shed blood in battle could understand, but he also hoped to lessen the clash between the civil servants and the military officers, and his other objective was to make his military backing—the knights—feel like they were getting special treatment.
Of course, the nominal reason wasn’t completely devoid of substance, but this petition was awful.
It was a joint letter from the upper echelons asking him to avoid war with the Nation of Darkness.
Jircniv knew that without being told.
Warring head-on with that country would go past stupid to crazy. He wouldn’t go picking fights with an opponent who could mow down two hundred thousand soldiers with a single spell.
The reason the knights sent that petition anyway was that they had lost confidence in him.
The higher-ranking knights knew that Jircniv had requested that the king use the most powerful spell he had, so they counted him as one of the largest factors in causing that gruesome hellscape.
In other words, he was being treated as the perpetrator.
When he realized that, it really pissed him off—he was furious.
If he had known such a spell existed, he never would have said such a thing.
And in the first place, the only reason he asked him to use his strongest spell was to see what the extent of his power was.
Shouldn’t they be grateful? Thank you for drawing out a glimpse of the King of Darkness’s power. Now we know he’s not someone to be trifled with. If their luck had been worse, the king might have set that spell off in a city.
But the knights wouldn’t see it that way.
Since they felt he was such an outstanding emperor, they suspected him of knowingly requesting that spell.
It was the first time Jircniv found his reputation unpleasant.
But moaning about it wouldn’t get him anywhere. If someone would do something in his place, he would wail and rest until his stomach quit aching, but there was no one who could function at his level. He had to do something himself.
“Damn you, King of Darkness! This is all your fault!”
Holding his sore belly, he thought, No.
Perhaps it wasn’t his fault but his conspiracy.
It was possible that the empire’s circumstances were all what he had calculated. Actually, thinking with a clear head, it seemed highly probable.
Jircniv took out a key, opened a desk drawer, and retrieved a bottle from the row of them inside.
Then he moved the silver ring on his left hand near it.
When the Unicorn Ring—which could detect poison, boosted the user’s defense against sickness and poison, and could heal a wound once a day—didn’t react, he drank the bottle’s contents in one go.
He quietly set the bottle on the desk, furiously wrinkling his nose.
To get rid of the now-familiar bitter taste spreading throughout his mouth, he gulped down the glass of water sitting on his desk, then went back to holding his stomach.
Whether it was a placebo or he had actually been healed, he didn’t know, but the pain subsided.
“Ahhh…”
Emitting an extremely heavy sigh that had become a daily occurrence, he got back to work. First was the paperwork that had piled up.
Just as he reached out, there came a reserved knock on the door as if someone had been waiting for that moment.
It was one of his secretaries who entered. All the secretaries Jircniv had selected were outstanding, but this one was on par with Reaunet.
Incidentally, he didn’t have a single female secretary. Unfortunately, there was only one woman he would trust that work to.
“Your Imperial Majesty—”
Jircniv waved off the greeting that seemed like it was going to drag on. “No need for all that. Leave off the greeting. It’s a waste of time. Just tell me what you’re here for.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. A merchant from that nation bearing goods of quite high quality has contacted us. He’s coming to the capital.”
“Oh!”
“That nation” meant the Slane Theocracy, and the “merchant”—it goes without saying—was actually a messenger.
This room was protected against espionage, but after witnessing how powerful the King of Darkness was, their defenses felt flimsy as paper. And actually, Jircniv felt like he was being watched sometimes.
He had had several people investigate, but as no surveillance agents were discovered, it ended with the suggestion that perhaps he was paranoid. And certainly once they mentioned it, he noticed how frayed his nerves were, so he began to think it could just be in his head. But he still couldn’t get rid of the feeling that someone’s eyes were on him.
Previously, Fluder had taken on one part of the espionage-proofing, but Jircniv couldn’t use that traitor any longer. All he could do was operate under the assumption that his palace had been infiltrated.
So for certain sensitive topics, they employed code words. Of course, it caused some issues, but it was much better than having the plot to join forces against Ainz Ooal Gown leaked.
“So when will he arrive?”
“Within the next few days, he said.”
He would have liked to invite him to the palace, but that would be too conspicuous.
It would be best to pretend we were meeting by coincidence, but where would be the least suspicious seeming?
Even if he felt like there was nothing he could do, he couldn’t give up as though it was merely a game. He couldn’t ignore a being who could cast such an atrocious spell, someone who told Nimble it was only natural for him to take lives because he was an undead.
Increasing their chances of victory even a tiny bit was the job of the emperor of Baharuth.
And one method of doing that was a behind-the-scenes alliance with the Slane Theocracy. The Theocracy had a longer history than the empire, and faith magic was one of its pillars. It was the ideal country to request cooperation from for confronting undead.
But it would be extremely bad if the Nation of Darkness found out that the empire was in contact with the Theocracy.
The empire was supporting the establishment of the Nation of Darkness as an allied country. The reason it put itself in that position was to learn as much as possible about the country’s power, organization, and so on. It was obvious that if word got out that Jircniv was working against the Nation of Darkness, the first country that power would be turned on was the empire.
“May I say something, Your Majesty?”
Jircniv said nothing but gestured with his chin for the man to continue.
“Isn’t it a bad idea to fight against the Nation of Darkness at this point?”
Jircniv shot a sharp look at the secretary—to say, Are you on about that, too? Then he glanced at the parchment in his private wastebasket and asked a question.
“So then what should we do?” My spirit is already nearly snapped in half—are you trying to shatter it completely…? Still�
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“Well…”
Jircniv smiled wryly, seeing his secretary gulp like that.
“Relax. I won’t fault you no matter what you say. Speak your mind.”
“All right. Then I beg your pardon, but…” The secretary cleared his throat and explained his thoughts. “As we strengthen our alliance with the Nation of Darkness, if it comes to us with a request…I think our only option is to take a knee and comply.”
Though Jircniv had made a promise, the secretary’s face was deathly pale.
He must have been battling the fear that his life could be in danger for that potentially treasonous remark.
Jircniv smiled wryly once more. “You’re right.”
“What?”
Knowing what an excellent secretary he was made the man’s gaping mouth amusing. Jircniv continued with a different sort of smile on his face.
“I said you’re right. If I was in your position, I’m sure I would make the same suggestion. No, it’d be more of a problem if I had a secretary who didn’t say that.”
Frankly, the Nation of Darkness was too powerful.
They were only aware of its military power, but even just that was so extraordinary that doing anything about it was impossible.
The King of Darkness, Ainz Ooal Gown, was more than enough of a threat on his own, and then the undead army he brought with him to the battlefield was supposedly made up of monsters who could each single-handedly destroy a country.
He was basically from another dimension, so it started to feel absurd to even think about it in a serious way.
“I agree that that’s the best plan of action, but we should probably have a plan B as well. If the King of Darkness was trying to destroy the empire, I’m not sure he’d forgive us simply because we got on our knees.”
Currently, he hadn’t heard anything about a massacre in E-Rantel.
When he wondered if there weren’t any undead there and had the data collected, the place was crawling with them. Monsters were stationed all over the place, and the city had transformed into a dark capital.
Perhaps they didn’t intend to kill the people living in the occupied territory, but it was too soon to assume that. Assuming the empire would be on the receiving end of the king’s mercy was risky, given the rumor that the king had even gotten the adamantite-plate adventurer Momon under his thumb.
“As you say, Your Majesty. It seems I was so scared of the King of Darkness’s overwhelming power that something obvious like that didn’t come to mind. I’m terribly sorry.”
“There’s no need to apologize. I thought the same thing… But let’s get back to our discussion. Where will the merchant from that nation be staying?”
“He’ll be staying at the largest two of four place.”
“Two of four” was a fire shrine. The largest place wasn’t a code word, but he could guess it meant the largest shrine in the empire—the central shrine.
Then they began chatting nonchalantly, mixing in lies.
Every now and then, they would say something random that sounded significant so that if anyone was listening, they would have a hard time ascertaining whether it was true or not.
Seems like this brain-taxing work will continue, thought Jircniv, and after a few minutes, he steered the conversation toward its main purpose.
“So what about your family? Are they still well?”
“Huh? Er, yes. Thanks to you, we’re doing great.”
“I see. That’s good. Health is so important. Actually, I haven’t been feeling so well lately. Medicines are only helping me endure temporarily. What do you think about calling a priest?”
“The shrines don’t seem very pleased with you of late. If you get high-handed with them, it could invite a rebellion. What if you went to one instead?”
“That’s a good idea.”
For the shrines, who fought against undead, the appearance of a country ruled by an immensely powerful undead right next door was cause for serious concern. As such, they had sent many letters to Jircniv asking to hear his thoughts on the matter, but he had been refusing.
One of the reasons he didn’t jump at that chance even though he wanted all the help he could get was that he couldn’t trust their espionage prevention skills. But the other was that he couldn’t predict what they would do once they heard everything he had to say.
If, after he cooperated with them, the priests decided to go to war with that king just because he was undead, the outcome would go without saying. It would be like getting caught up in a suicide.
Ultimately, the issue was that he didn’t want the King of Darkness to interpret contact with the shrines as hostility. In other words, he was scared.
Jircniv sighed again.
He had wanted them to wait for a good opportunity, but the Theocracy hadn’t read that far. Still, if the party of diplomats snuck into the empire and met with the shrines, maybe they could aim for a reversal of fortunes.
“Then I suppose I should go get checked within the next few days.”
“I think that’s a good idea. I’ll make the arrangements.”
“Yes, please do. And what about the arena? I was planning to go watch, so can that still happen? Don’t stop me just because we’re talking about getting my health checked. I’ll let whoever of you wants to come with sit in the noble guest seats.”
The secretary’s eyes contained a sharp glint that indicated he was trying to reach the truth.
Yes. You’re right. It’s only natural to question. See through it.
Jircniv was thinking he wanted to avoid meeting with the Theocracy diplomats at the shrine.
In addition to providing healing services, shrines archived all sorts of information. If the central shrine was chosen as the first target, they would lose too much. There were some times when amassed knowledge was more important than anything else.
“Understood regarding the arena. But I thought that day you were going to visit the people injured in the war.”
That news hadn’t reached Jircniv. It must have been a bluff.
In other words, he was probably suggesting the hospital instead of the arena as the meeting place. The reason Jircniv proposed the arena was because he had heard that priests had been summoned there to heal the injured before. That meant they could show up under that guise.
“Let’s put the hospital visit off. Arrange my schedule according to the plan I just mentioned.”
The topic of the merchant disappeared halfway through the conversation. What would a spy think of that? What would they be able to glean from the numbers “two of four”?
No matter how demonic the King of Darkness’s ingenuity, he couldn’t make a move without gathering information. And his subordinates couldn’t all be as intelligent as he was. Plus, the more spies he had, the more likely they would be found out. Since they hadn’t found any yet, there were surely only a few. At least, Jircniv wanted that to be the case.
The King of Darkness’s absolute magic powers had tricked his brain; some corner of his mind was whispering, All the King of Darkness’s henchmen are elites. The ones Jircniv had seen in the Throne Room had been overwhelmingly powerful, so maybe his spies were like that, too.
If that’s the case, we’re just out of luck… I guess being a vassal country would be the most we could hope for?
Even though he had just drunk a potion, the griping pain in his stomach started up again.
Two weeks later, Jircniv was in a carriage on the way to the arena.
The nominal reason was to be a spectator, but the real objective was the meeting that had been arranged with the messenger from the Theocracy and high-ranking priests from within the empire.
His guard was not mobilized, because he wanted to avoid sticking out, but two of the Four were in the carriage with him as escorts: Lightning and Storm Wind.
He would have liked to have all four of the exceptionally strong knights with him, but he couldn’t trust Heavy Bomber, so he left her behind—his excuse was that
she was to guard the palace. No, “couldn’t trust” wasn’t accurate. The more correct reason was that she had expressed interest in visiting the Nation of Darkness, so he wanted to keep her away from any information that would make a good souvenir.
She once said, If my curse was broken, I would even turn my sword on the emperor, but there were reasons that he had her working for him despite that. Even if she betrayed the empire, he couldn’t blame her. But that didn’t mean he could let her make off with important intelligence.
If she did steal state secrets, he would have to send someone after her, but if he wanted to kill her—one of the strongest people in the empire—he would have to send someone on her level. In an even fight with the sword, that meant only Lightning or Storm Wind were options; the wrong choice would end only with the pursuer getting killed instead. And if he sent a whole group, the defenses of the capital and he himself would be weakened.
In that case, he would need someone with skills besides hand-to-hand combat—one of Fluder’s leading disciples, or workers, or maybe assassins like Ijaniya, but no matter which one he chose, he would have to be prepared to pay for them.
Leading disciples were paid annually—although Fluder himself had been given a domain and trapped as a noble—so it was easy to assume there wouldn’t be many additional costs, but there were invisible losses such as delays in their usual work. And the loss that would occur if there was retaliation was incomparable to the latter two options.
So the best option was to not let Heavy Bomber near any critical intelligence so she couldn’t take anything with her to the Nation of Darkness. That was probably the way to make everyone happy.
He had already discussed that with her in a roundabout way.
But Heavy Bomber was still at the palace. Her response had been, I will remain until my debt to you is repaid.
He would have liked to take it at face value, but he couldn’t.
It was true that Heavy Bomber was one of the empire’s Four, but that didn’t mean the Nation of Darkness would be impressed by her abilities. The undead in the big unit reporting directly to the King of Darkness were surely more powerful than her, so she was just biding her time until she could sell herself for a higher price.
The Ruler of Conspiracy Page 19