by Fuse
She had a point. But Erald came to Tempest on the pretense of rescuing his daughter, and what he found was a literal nation of monsters. He may have transferred his spirit into the body of a homunculus, but there was no telling what could have befallen him. There was no way he could have guaranteed Elmesia’s safety if he took her there.
But the emperor gave him no quarter. “If that is the charming sort of slime you met, I wish I could have seen him for myself. And meeting with a demon lord so soon after his birth? Why, I’ve lived for many, many years, and not even I have been graced with that opportunity. And look at you, hogging it for yourself! Does the term abandonment mean anything to you? Imagine, being treated this way by my own people. What a pitiful leader I am…”
She had continued in this vein for a bit longer before wrapping it up like so:
“I’ve never been so envious—um, so offended in my life, I don’t think. You, taking in all this excite—ahhh, risking all this danger and going off by yourself. It is scandalous!”
Elmesia’s rebuke was really more whining than scolding. Most of her vassals only knew her unreadable mask and assumed the heart beneath was just as icy; she only showed this side of her personality to Archduke Erald and one other, although Erald took the brunt of it. If only they knew what’s actually underneath, he always thought.
However, thanks to the emperor’s pouting, the budget for this effort had been frozen, their plans to share technology with Tempest delayed for the time being. Erald wanted to soothe her hurt feelings about it all so they could get the ball rolling on the tech swap again. If he decided to join the festivities solo without informing Elmesia, he’d most certainly be inviting her rage upon him. By that point, he feared, the frozen budget would be the least of his worries.
This demon lord coronation was, in its own way, a show of force. It was devised to display Rimuru’s strength as demon lord to the nations around him. They would be holding a festival in conjunction, along with assorted unspecified but large-scale entertainment. There was no way the eternally bored Elmesia would pass up an opportunity to attend such an exciting-sounding event. Erald knew she’d sniff it out, then interrogate him about not reporting it to her. The potential consequences for her wrath were beyond imagination.
Thus, Erald opted to hide nothing and just show her the letter.
Now she lifted her head, fresh from reading it. Erald sat up straight in his seat.
“So what do you intend to do with this?” Elmesia asked.
“Do what, Your Excellency?”
He was buying time, but Erald knew what Elmesia meant. He knew, but he couldn’t say it himself. If the emperor was going to join the festivities, this was now an official state visit, and that took the entire administration to prepare for. It was too significant a thing for Erald to suggest from his own lips. He wanted to be sure anything that came from this meeting was, first and foremost, the emperor’s idea.
“Mmm, playing dumb, are we? Do you know, Erald, of the sweet pastries we procured from that man Yoshida’s bakery? They’re far tastier than they used to be, aren’t they? Could you venture a guess as to why?”
Erald fell silent. This change of subject was unexpected.
“Or are you saying a strategic genius such as yourself is oblivious to the goings-on in the streets? What a disappointment.”
“I apologize, Your Excellency. By Yoshida, you refer to the baker who runs the establishment in Englesia you enjoy so much? I believe the kingdom provides for his personal safety as an otherworlder, despite his lack of fighting skill. I was unaware that his work was distributed to Thalion, but how is that related to Sir Rimuru’s invitation?”
If you didn’t know something, better to be honest and ask. Maybe you can’t get away from that if you’re dealing with a stranger, but Erald was intimately familiar with the emperor—she even let him look at her unobscured face, a right granted to a tiny handful of people in Thalion.
“You truly claim not to know, then? Ellwyn brought some samples back several years ago as a souvenir. I suppose she didn’t see fit to give you any.”
“She what?!”
The revelation that his own daughter declined to save any for him hurt harder than expected. Elmesia was clearly gratified to see this.
“All right. Seeing your expression is all I need. Let me tell you, then. Yoshida, it seems, has found a new source for his ingredients. It’s allowed him to greatly expand the diversity of his wares, and the quality of his work has improved to match. In addition, in exchange for some monetary support, he’s been willing to send a supply of his goods to us.”
Erald was well aware of Kaoru Yoshida. Like his fellow otherworlders, he’d been the subject of much investigation and eventually pinpointed in the capital city of Englesia where he was running a café and sweet shop. He was said to lack any special skills, although that was unconfirmed. His talents as a pastry chef, however, were undoubtedly top-of-the-line, enough so that he counted the grand master of the Free Guild as a grateful client. There were even rumors of Hinata, the Saint, sneaking in after closing hours to avoid attracting a crowd.
Thus, Erald already knew him as a successful tradesman, but Elmesia wasn’t done speaking yet.
“So you know I invited Yoshida here once. Ellwyn, you see, brought along the most tremendous cake I’ve ever had. I was hoping I could have him become the empire’s official dessert specialist. But he turned me down. No matter how much money I stacked on the table, Yoshida refused to come here…”
The way she put it, Yoshida wasn’t the kind of man who was moved by money. Instead, she made do with having a small selection of “souvenirs” purchased for her. Your Excellency, what are you doing?!! Erald resisted shouting the thought out loud. But she still wasn’t done.
“Recently, Yoshida apparently sent word that he’d be closing soon. I’m not sure if he’s moving or opening up another location… But losing my dessert supply during his hiatus would be a nigh unbearable blow, wouldn’t it?”
“Not especially, no.”
“Hmm. That’s what you have to say to me? Ellwyn is quite fond of that bakery, you know. If their wares remained easily obtainable, I’m sure she’d be glad to ferry my orders back here.”
“Wh-what?!”
“Oh, yes. She already comes back here for our regular tea parties.”
This was monumental news. Erald thought his daughter hadn’t come near Thalion for years. Elmesia’s revelation was a heavy blow. He already knew the two bodyguards assigned to her weren’t exactly the most reliable agents out there, but he hadn’t heard a word of this from the other observers he had hired to watch over her. He resolved to rake them over the coals about this later, but for now, he had to press Elmesia for more.
“This is grave news, is it not?!”
“Oh, yes, it is! But I’ve used some of my authority—and funds—to obtain some rather interesting information.”
“What is it?”
“Well, of all the places, it turns out that this baker is seriously considering a move to the nation you visited, Tempest. So tell me, what were you doing over there?”
This actually jogged Erald’s memory a bit. Every meal he had at Tempest was a delight; his daughter Elen practically wept tears of joy at first sight of their dessert selection. He even recalled her jumping up and down: “Ah, Shuna’s perfectly re-created that new recipe!” and the like.
“Ahhh… Was that what she meant?!” Erald cried as the pieces fell into place.
Elmesia sighed. “Are you sure you still have all your marbles, Archduke?”
Erald wasn’t so sure any longer. “I—I am sorry,” he apologized, and he was entirely sincere.
Now he saw what the empress was displeased about. She suspected that Erald was hoarding all the sweets for himself—something he never would’ve done, even if it was for his daughter’s sake.
“Nothing is ever too good for your daughter, after all…”
Now, at least, Erald’s name had been cleare
d. Instead, Elmesia was now busy yelling at him about being totally oblivious to everything. Erald dutifully accepted it.
“But, Your Excellency, how will we respond to Sir Rimuru?”
Elmesia gave her companion a satisfied grin. “Yes…well…”
She was acting all stately about it but didn’t seem too interested in giving an answer. It irked Erald, but he wasn’t foolish enough to offer his own words. As stated, the emperor visiting a foreign land was a national-level project. If Erald brought up the idea first, he could see himself being shouted down by criticism. People would get in his way; it’d turn into a big mess.
The Sorcerous Dynasty was established by the emperor Elmesia, its sorcerous sovereign, and the thirteen royal families and other rulers under her gave her their total loyalty. In general, each family was responsible for governing their own fiefdoms, while the imperial court ran on the taxes they provided. None of the royal families had their own standing armies; all of that was concentrated on the empire side. The emperor was Thalion’s commander in chief, responsible for arbitrating across fiefdoms and nations. Erald was born into one of these thirteen families; his mother, Ellis Grimwald, was the matriarch who ran it. This Ellis was also the grandmother of Elmesia herself—the only other person in Erald’s life he was forced to submit to.
Erald’s elder brother, the father of Elmesia, had been killed in battle with monsters. It was an event that happened both before Thalion’s founding and well before Erald was even born. It made Elmesia his niece, even though she had lived far longer than him—another reason he owed her at least some respect.
What about the other royal families besides Ellis’s? They were, to say the least, often very peculiar. Some holed up in their domains, refusing to take any part in imperial administration, while others took advantage of their posts to actively participate in internal politics. Elmesia never made any policy statements herself, so a number of local nobles struggled to gain power for themselves instead. As archduke, one of Erald’s tasks was to keep an eye on people.
That was why he had to be careful here. If this was just a pleasure trip, that was one thing, but many people would fault him for organizing a journey to a literal monster den. It could give them an excuse to strip him of his position. He personally doubted it, but some of the nobles might have even been scheming to eliminate the emperor from the picture entirely. To keep that from happening, he knew he had to be thoroughly prepared.
“Aw, you worry too much, Erald.”
“Y-Your Excellency?!”
“No matter what those little fish think, none could ever exact revenge against me.”
Elmesia was changed now. She looked, and felt, like a ruler—an emperor with absolute power, one who never allowed rebellion even once in her life. As long-lived as she was, all the great kings and leaders of the world—even Erald himself—looked like nothing but a street gang formed of children.
Erald tensed up and nervously swallowed. He could speak frankly with her thanks to sharing a bloodline, but technically speaking, she was far, far above him. He was lauded as a champion of the people himself, but Elmesia was on a whole other level. It was impossible not to be nervous around her.
“That demon lord… His name was Rimuru, yes?” she said. “We cannot let our guard down.”
“…How do you mean?”
She was stating the obvious. He was strong, obviously, and you couldn’t discount the leadership he showed guiding his monsters. And there was never a demon lord who tried to build cooperative relationships with the nations around them before. But Elmesia wasn’t one to verbalize such an obvious point—hence why Erald asked for clarification.
“Hee-hee… This Rimuru; he rather easily accepted our request to build a highway to Thalion, didn’t he?”
“Yes. He asked for rights to things like tolls and customs fees, but he accepted the full construction job on his end.”
“And there’s the issue. Those rights could grant him an absolute fortune. Can’t you see that looking at me, Erald?”
She was back to her usual casual self. Erald knew what she meant.
“Ah, those revenue sources?”
Erald, too, realized early on that Rimuru was aiming for exactly that. That was why he thought carefully before giving him those rights. But now Elmesia was giving him a supercilious chuckle.
“You have a lot to learn, still. Long-lived species like ourselves can plan matters so we profit in the long term. You do realize that, do you not?”
“Of course. I made my decision after judging the passage fees the demon lord Rimuru could charge versus the money it would take for us to build the highway.”
By his calculations, any tolls they’d pay would be far cheaper. Attempting to build a paved path through the Forest of Jura, as monster-laden as it was, would require countless years and a massive budget. The Khusha Mountains at the forest’s border were ruled by the organized, warlike tengu. Working with them would be a slog—and once you were done with them, there were hundreds of other monsters and magical beasts to deal with. Even discounting them, the complex geography posed a major problem. It’d require tunnels dug through mountains, bridges strung across canyons, and workers who’d need round-the-clock protection the entire way. It’d be a century-long project, and while that wasn’t out of the question for an empire with Thalion’s resources, it was doubtful they’d ever see a return on their investment.
With all that in mind, Rimuru’s offer was music to Erald’s ears.
“How naive of you,” Elmesia said, shattering Erald’s confidence. “Certainly, crafting a highway in the forest is a daunting task. It has never been tried before because there was no benefit to it.”
She began guiding Erald through the issues involved.
Just as he thought, there would be no profit from the project. It was rife with challenges, and there was no point to having a road through the forest anyway. But that was in the past. Before, the highway would’ve had to go all the way to the Dwarven Kingdom—now, all it had to do was reach Tempest, the new nation in the middle of the woods. Also, there was now a purpose to the highway—trade. Working with the dwarves could have improved Thalion’s technology, but there were too many obstacles in the way to achieve that. Now, with Tempest on the scene, things had changed.
“The southern demon lord domains are ruled by Milim, alongside Carillon, the Beast Master, and Frey, the Sky Queen. With all the military might they boast, they are set to become dazzlingly prosperous. Beyond that, we have the Western Nations to the northwest and the Armed Nation of Dwargon to the north. This new nation, Tempest, is nestled right between them, is it not?”
“…It is, yes.”
Erald felt he understood what Elmesia was driving at. He still didn’t see how that meant he had erred. Things change over time, after all. That land had no value up to now, but as Elmesia pointed out, it now had boundless potential. Situated at a key location between multiple forces, it was bound to become a meeting point for all their cultures…and it was destined to grow rapidly. That was what the demon lord Rimuru wanted, and this was why Erald—deftly realizing this ahead of the crowd—wanted to firm up relations with him. But building a road to this new nation, as he knew full well, was a high-cost, high-risk endeavor.
“I decided that instead of embarking on a project that would require military support to back it up, it was better to secure profits through payment of their usage fees.”
He was confident he did the right thing. But the response failed to wipe the smile off Elmesia’s face.
“You aren’t incorrect. We haven’t sustained any losses, and normally, I would congratulate you on a job well done. Buuuut, he is just as long-lived as us. A demon lord, remember? And if you sign an agreement with no binding time limit, you need to think much more carefully about it than that. I give you eight points out of ten.”
“…?!”
“What we should have done is lend a hand in the construction effort. We should have selected pers
onnel and built our own teams to handle the roadwork. They, meanwhile, could have focused solely on security. If we gave them at least a token effort at cooperation, that would have made our fee negotiations much easier.”
“…!!”
From now until the end of time, the demon lord Rimuru would hold all rights to the highway. And given their lack of cooperation at the beginning, these conditions would be frustratingly difficult to overturn. This was a demon lord—any attempts to coerce him with force would be the height of folly. Elmesia was right, and Erald, with his single-minded focus on profits, was wrong.
“This is why I always accuse you of being stubborn, Erald. You may be smart enough to notice when the tides are changing, but you can’t hold on to your preconceptions like this.”
Erald was forced to admit it: She was right. The construction work would be dangerous, but if he had considered that compromise option, the costs wouldn’t have been too high to consider. And bringing in people from Thalion could have led to the sharing of technical expertise, which would allow the empire to take in Tempestian know-how for itself.
…What have I done? I failed to read that far into it…
He could practically see Rimuru gloating in front of his face. But it was far too late to linger on the issue.
“So about my response to this invitation…”
Elmesia’s face grew sterner. Erald sat up, nodding at her.
“Between the sweets shop and the highway, it’s clear Rimuru is well versed in human customs. There’s no doubting his status as a former otherworlder, but now he possesses the power and authority to utilize his knowledge and experience fully. Demon lord or not, he is truly extraordinary. Grand Master Yuuki Kagurazaka and Captain Hinata Sakaguchi, both disciples of the Hero Shizue Izawa, may hold considerable clout in the Western Nations, but neither is a match for Rimuru. If we want to be on good terms with him going forward, we can’t afford not to attend this. We never had a choice from the beginning.”
