Volume 6 Chapter 115 The Strategy Of The Empty City
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
I sweep the brush across the whitewood plank in one smooth stroke, ink trailing behind to form: “Demon King Countermeasures HQ.”
Never cared much for calligraphy, but after a few rounds of practice in this world, I’ve started to get a feel for it—putting in some real flair. Guess dexterity’s one of my strong suits.
It’s kind of fun, getting this into writing.
The room sits in the inner keep of the castle, right beside my bedroom. Used to be dead space. At some point, it turned into a junk warehouse.
Well, not junk—prototypes. Any one of these might be the next big thing. Maybe.
As of today, this is Demon King Countermeasures HQ. I lean the still-damp signboard by the door.
Not many people here can read kanji, so this is half for laughs anyway. Ms. Nina’s apparently mastered every everyday-use kanji, so we’re good. Honestly, she might know more than I do.
Now that I think about it, all my wives can read manga now. Never really caught them studying. El still can’t read the local writing, though. Guess that’s how desperate for entertainment they were.
”Um, Your Majesty. If you’re throwing that away… would it be alright if I took it?”
The maid who looks after my room asks, eyeing the signboard.
She used to be super stiff—way more casual now.
According to Shea-Shea, give her an inch and she’ll pounce, so be careful. Read too many ladies’ comics, I swear.
*T/N: as in, explicit romance manga aimed at women.
Apparently, my calligraphy masterpiece looks like trash to her. I thought it looked pretty decent. Huh. Harsh.
With Wall Barley wiping out the forests lately, lumber prices have shot up. Even scraps fetch whatever you ask.
I do pay the maids decent wages, right? But hey—money, you can never have too much.
Prices rise, Gathering pressure follows, and what few forests remain get carved up even faster. The willows that used to line the riverbanks? Gone.
Environmental collapse is picking up speed. Maybe I should push for legal protection? Nah… probably too late.
That said, Wolf Forest is still holding on.
It’s not like I haven’t considered protecting the trees.
Even the door to my bedroom’s made of synthetic wood. It’s basically straw pulp glued together—fake, but it sells well.
Just the business of printing those wood-patterned sticker sheets brings in more revenue than all of Ayub Kingdom’s taxes. When Princess Auroora heard that, she just stared into space.
I figured if I introduced a substitute, it’d reduce demand for real lumber. Total miscalculation.
The rich types, the “only the real thing will do” crowd, keep bidding the price up forever.
That signboard’s a thick, solid plank, too. You could sell it for a small fortune.
Whether to trash or flip it—that’s the maid’s call. Disposal’s in her job description. Perks of the role.
”That’s the sign for this room,” I say, nudging it with my toe. “Can’t have it getting thrown out.”
”I deeply apologize! Please forgive me!” she blurts, bowing fast.
Might just be for show—who knows.
I could pardon her with kingly flair or hand down a punishment. Most kings don’t bother; too worried about appearances.
Anyway, she’s a proper palace maid. Comes from a decent family.
Usually it’s some noble’s daughter, but we’re short on nobility in this brand-new kingdom.
Not like a glut of nobles would help. Fewer headaches this way.
I left all the HR stuff to Shea-Shea. If I need more nobles, she’ll tell me.
Punishing a maid, huh. Feels a little risqué.
They say a ruler’s job is to hand out both rewards and punishments—go too hard, everyone fears you; go too soft, nobody trusts you.
And—everything costs money. Name a thing.
Publicly executing a few bandits every now and then apparently gives you the most return on investment. Keeps the peace and entertains the commoners.
*T/N: lower-class citizens, non-nobles, etc.
Wild culture.
”No, since you actually checked if it was trash, that’s fine,” I say, with a nod.
This is when I should praise her. Positive feedback ensures she’ll keep checking.
I pull out a tiny drawstring pouch and hand it over. Inside: candy.
It was originally for kids. Figured handing out loose change wasn’t great, education-wise. Carrot and stick. Cola, mandarin, strawberry milk—those are the hits.
Maltose is cheap enough that the candy’s easy to make. The wrappers, though—forget it. Making colorful film like back in Japan? Way too difficult. Gave up.
I tried wrapping them furoshiki-style in handkerchiefs*
*T/N: bundle-wrapping cloth, traditional Japanese-style.
—but the candy just spilled everywhere when they opened it. Total disaster.
Not that the kids care. Candy hits the floor and right into their mouths. No hesitation.
Had to commission tiny drawstring pouches from the general store. Costs more than the candy inside, but everyone loves them, so I call it a win.
It’s not just kids, either. Young women get a kick out of them too. Give a subordinate a ring or gem? Way too loaded.
Candy pouch? Barely safe—but safe enough.
The hard drinkers get pouches with mini whiskey bottles. Real stuff. Basically toys for grown-ups. People go nuts for them.
Turns out, it’s not about what’s inside. Getting praised, being recognized—that’s what drives people.
Not as flashy as medals, but I can hand them out like candy—literally.
Named it the Ame-chan Project.
*T/N: “Ame-chan” means “little candy,” a cute/slang usage in Japanese.
”Oh my! How cute!! Eternal loyalty to Your Majesty!!” she cries.
She twirls into a two-step and a curtsy, then skips down the corridor. Definitely going to brag to her friends.
That was loyalty, bought cheap.
Not that I think it’s serious, but sometimes people do mean it. Kind of scary, honestly.
Some soldiers would stake their lives on a handshake. As king, I have to stay sharp. Reward loyalty when it shows.
Well—so just leaning the sign against the wall won’t cut it, huh.
Want me to stick it to the door with leftover rice?
Should’ve made a lighter board.
Signboards go deep.
* * *
”This is the Demon King’s counter-op HQ?” Ms. Nina asked, eyes narrowing. “Are we really just allowed to waltz in here?”
Ms. Nina was the first to show up.
Only those with clearance can get in, so sure, odds were high it’d be one of my wives—but still, felt like fate.
Slipping a spy in with the maids or guards—classic move. Maybe this was her way of saying I should lock up any room handling military secrets. All that worrying? Straight from Princess Auroora.
I kept a Yakou avatar stationed in this room at all times, so security was solid. Since I’d gone to the trouble of keeping it secret, I figured I’d let Yakou stay hidden for now. Give them a little surprise.
”This room, you see, is protected by, uh, a secret power,” I said. “So it’s fine.”
”Haa… let’s go with that, then,” Ms. Nina sighed, rubbing her temple.
Sighing already? Figured she’d be more affectionate post-wedding, but that’s Ms. Nina for you. Tough shell, soft core.
”What a fine desk,” she said, circling it slowly. “So Japan really does have massive trees.”
She admired the oversized desk I’d set in the center of the room—longer than El’s bed, even.
”It’s made from lauan wood,” I explained. “Not Japanese. My uncle salvaged it from an old elementary school. Still don’t know what he planned to do with something this big.”
Ms. Nina leaned in, studying the joints. Guess she’s into mortise-and-tenon. From my angle, the craftsmanship was rough—places where someone over-carved the mortise. But sturdy. Built to last.
The kind of piece that says, Get it done. That might be enough sometimes.
Me? I couldn’t stand even a shaving out of place. Maybe I should ease up… Nah. Not there yet.
”It’s foreign lumber,” I added. “Trees this size probably don’t grow here anymore. Overdevelopment saw to that.”
”Environmental destruction, then,” she murmured. “So it’s the same everywhere.”
Not exactly. Here, it all started with Wall Barley. But humans finished the job with axes. Close enough.
”Right, trashing nature’s tough,” I muttered. “Nature’s really got it bad. Ah, look—Shea-Shea and Ms. Floria are here.”
Something felt off. Or maybe I was just spinning my own wheels. Part of me wondered if Ms. Nina regretted marrying me. Brain spiraling into negativity. Must be fatigue—thanks, Demon King.
I was about to get swept down the self-pity drain when those two arrived—perfect timing.
knock. The door opened. They stepped in.
”Strange vibe in here,” Floria said, arching a brow. “Were you getting into another lover’s quarrel again?”
”No, Miss Floria, that was, um—” Ms. Nina flustered, voice catching.
The weird air cleared in an instant. Ms. Floria was built different. Shell-hardened—wait, scratch that.
”Are we intruding?” Shea-Shea asked, tilting her head.
Still running on love-brain, as usual. She had her own rules, straight out of some romance novel. Stick to them, and you could switch straight into handsy, lovey-dovey mode. All sugar. But it felt… off, somehow.
If I treated it like a pre-made romance template, maybe things would run smoother. Efficient. Life’s short, right? Fall in love while you’ve got time, girl.
Shea-Shea’s little crush on love itself—it wasn’t fake. Not a lie.
”Actually, good timing,” I said, straightening. “I was just about to explain.”
Flipping into work-mode. King-mode. We weren’t holed up in Uno’s nest anymore. Out here, time skipped like stones. The Demon King wasn’t going to wait around.
”So this is the infamous El’s bed, huh?” Floria said, eyeing the desk. “Big and fancy. Wow.”
”Must’ve cost a fortune,” Shea-Shea added. “But who could even put a number on it?”
Ah, you too? All eyes on the desk? Come on. It’s not about the desk—I want you to look at the map spread out across it.
Okay, fine, wood’s as good as gold these days. Can’t blame you. Maybe I should’ve just dragged in a plywood table.
Ahem.
”This is actually a pretty damn accurate map of the human world,” I said. “From the Larse Empire to the Totoana Empire—decent precision all around.”
Honestly, simplifying it was harder than making it accurate. Total waste if it’s just for personal use.
”Wait, seriously? This was a map?” Shea-Shea asked, leaning in.
”Where are we on it now?” Floria asked.
”This is some seriously confidential military stuff…” Nina muttered. “Is security tight enough?”
Heh. Good reactions. But come on—if this is enough to shock you, you’re not ready.
”The real trick’s in those pieces lined up on top,” I said.
Made ’em myself. White and black resin. Just a toy—prop, maybe?—for Yakou. Or that’s what I thought. Turns out, she got way into it. Now she’s using it for real.
Somehow, it turned into a board that shows the whole wartime situation at a glance. Pretty wild. I might’ve underestimated her.
”The black pieces,” Nina said, “are they the Demon King’s army?”
”Then the white counters are the evacuees taking refuge in the Larse Empire?” Floria asked.
”Oh, this piece just moved!” Shea-Shea squeaked.
Right. Yakou’s little avatars were updating the board in real time. They’re invisible, so the pieces looked like they were sliding around on their own. She was particular about this for some reason.
She wasn’t just feeding in her own intel, either—spirits from all over were chiming in. Tiny snippets of information, woven together and analyzed with freakish accuracy.
”I feel like I’ve seen this kind of thing in a war movie…” Shea-Shea murmured. “No, wait—anime, maybe?”
”G-Gotta take notes!” she gasped. “I could write an epic war chronicle with this!!”
Don’t worry, Shea-Shea. I’m recording it all with my Editor skill. Once the war’s over, knock yourself out—write a dozen history books.
”If you’ve got something like this, wouldn’t you just win the war outright?” she said. “Total goblin in the night.”
T/N: The phrase is a metaphor; a ‘goblin in the night’ refers to an unseen, unstoppable threat.
”Nah,” I said. “Odds are, someone among the Summoned Heroes has a similar cheat skill. Maybe one or two in the Demon King’s army too.”
You could tell just from the way the pieces moved. Sometimes it looked like both sides could see right through each other.
The Conqueror King didn’t seem to know, so someone under him was probably hiding a skill.
Sure, hiding your skill was just common sense. But these Summoned Heroes were all about going solo. Could you really win a war like that? Hard to believe.
”Those white pieces moving on the sea—are those ships?” Floria asked. “Looks like they’re headed for the Larse Empire.”
”Probably the royal brats from the Downstream Three Kingdoms,” I said. “All they’ve got left are some dinky galley boats. But even those can haul more than horse-drawn carts.”
Leaving the land-bound masses behind, clutching treasure, skipping out first… Guess looking after your own came first.
”Idiots,” Nina muttered. “Once the people scatter, there’s no rebuilding a kingdom. As long as there’s Wall Barley, they won’t starve—”
Lords here feared people running away more than invaders. That’s why cities had walls—not to keep enemies out, but to trap their own inside. No wonder fortresses here were so half-assed.
”Ms. Floria, um—” Shea-Shea began.
”Our barony’s done for,” Floria said flatly. “My idiot husband ditched the people, ran off to distant Larse relatives. Bet he’s that piece, right there.”
The white piece she pointed at—marked for a group of about fifty. Judging by the speed, probably a carriage or two.
To bolt first—well, call it decisive. Better than dithering till it’s too late. For the folks left behind, there was still time to act.
”After finally getting an heir, too,” she added, brushing a hand over her barely showing belly, tender.
”Screw being the baron’s lady,” Nina said. “Why not be the baroness yourself? Right?”
She threw the line at me.
”With all Ms. Floria’s done, a barony’s not even enough,” I said. “But who knows what’ll happen to the country at this rate.”
”A country’s just people anyway,” Nina replied. “Our army’ll take in the refugees. It’s not like any of them could scratch the Demon King’s forces.”
Cold, the way she said it—like tossing out a fact.
But she wasn’t wrong. Only the top-tier Summoned Heroes could even slow a max-level Orc. Using troops to save civilians? Good optics.
For bluffing, even a straw-stuffed scarecrow was better than nothing. Help out some desperate souls, pick up future citizens for free—win-win.
Here, taxpayers were gold. Gaining or losing people could spark a war.
But if it’s the lord who runs? And we take in their people? Who’s got the nerve to complain?
”Sure, some lord’ll whine for their people back once the Demon King’s gone,” I said. “But as long as we’ve got strength, let ’em whine. If you can’t protect your people, you don’t deserve to rule.”
Stripping the titles off the cowards who squealed and ran seemed only fair.
Whoever cleaned up afterward—that’s the one who’d shape the next age.
Huh. Maybe those lords still marching their troops around all proper—they weren’t preparing to fight. They were preserving strength for the rebuild.
Which made me wonder: what would the Larse Empire do next, sitting there untouched? Were they waiting to swoop in once everyone else finished wrecking each other?
Crooked move. But then again—what isn’t?
”The Demon King is marching straight down the Old Highway, huh,” he said.
”Me, I’d cut through the wasteland and hit the capital with a surprise raid.”
I was worried about that too. I knew Shea-Shea would pick up on it.
Just looking at the map, we could strike the Holy Capital across the empty wilds. A normal army might falter there—but these are the Demon King’s troops.
”The enemy’s main force is orcs, right?” she asked. “I hear they’re not much for trickery.”
”That’s what the records say,” he replied. “Real problem is how this Demon King thinks. Pretty crafty, don’t you think? If someone told me their true form was the Summoned Hero, I wouldn’t even blink.”
”Suppose the Demon King’s army takes the main road… First battle’s somewhere in the Downstream Three Kingdoms, isn’t it? Eh? Don’t our garrisons look a bit… thin?”
Each city only had a single white piece placed. Could’ve been scouts the Conqueror King deployed.
”That’s only because Yakou and the rest put down pieces when they spot someone,” she said. “There might still be people in places without pieces.”
”So there are definitely people where there’s a piece,” he muttered, “but the rest is up in the air. Not as perfect as I thought.”
”Right. This system isn’t flawless. That’s fine.”
”Depends on the person reading it, huh.”
”Still beats getting handed a mountain of reports. This way we’re all on the same page.”
I knew—factually—that reconnaissance was everything in war. Interpret the intel right and act accordingly, and you’d never lose.
That’s what I used to think.
In a turn-based sim game, sure, you can play that way. But in medieval-level warfare? Once the fighting starts, you’re barely able to issue orders. Your “comm link” is smoke signals or a conch shell.
If you want anyone to follow a detailed plan, you have to hand it out ahead of time.
So outguessing the other side becomes everything. You track their movements and try to peer into their commander’s mind.
Even shogi, at the pro level, is pure psychology. I’m just some amateur scrambling to respond move by move—bottom-tier stuff.
At least I know I suck.
But maybe, as long as I’ve got cheat comms, I could still win, even as a scrub?
Then again, if they’ve got someone who can actually see the future, that won’t cut it.
Here’s hoping there’s no genius tactician over there.
”Looks like the white pieces are trying to pull something,” I murmured. “Hm. An empty city gambit.”
”Empty city—?” she echoed. “Ms. Shirakaba always brings that up, but I never really get it. It leaves me all muddled. I mean, sure, it’s a trap with an empty castle, but…”
Oh, and apparently Ms. Shirakaba’s favorite is Zhou Yu. I’m more of a Fan Tong guy myself. Wish I could talk Three Kingdoms with her.
”You know how in war, you sometimes use a fortress to lay a trap?” he said. “So when the enemy comes to attack, you fling open the gates and disappear. The enemy gets spooked by a trap that’s not even there and calls off the attack. That’s the empty city gambit.”
”Hold on—couldn’t you just send scouts to check for a trap before charging in?”
”We might stall them for a bit, but trading a whole castle for that? No dice, yeah? This isn’t some anime or fake fiction.”
Huh. Everyone hates it.
Well, yeah—Romance of the Three Kingdoms is fiction, sure. It even comes with that “fiction” label.
”Even if the orc soldiers know there’re traps,” she said, “they’ll just charge right in anyway.”
Thud.
Orcs in this world aren’t pig-faced, but you still get that wild boar vibe off them.
The Empty Fort Strategy’s just a complete mismatch here.
* * *
”So is it snack time until the Demon King’s army gets here?” El asked, mouth twitching with amusement.
”If I do the math, looks like we’ve got about 30 minutes till arrival,” I said, stretching out on the floor. “Guess we take a breather here.”
”Nice, sounds good,” Shea-Shea said, already rustling through supplies. “I’ll put out a separate snack table, okay? No eating on top of the map.”
”It’s ‘tea time,’ but nobody’s making tea, so… snack time,” I muttered.
Rain drummed.
”Pulling out the crowd favorite these days for the ladies: sugar-free cola and mock-herb potato chips,” I added, lining up the bottles.
”Can’t say I really get the whole sugar-free cola thing, honestly?” she said, furrowing her brow.
”But if you drink it with the herb chips, doesn’t it just feel, like, guilt-free?” Shea-Shea asked, grinning as she popped one in her mouth.
Is sweet stuff supposed to be sinful now? Even though in this world, curvy women are popular.
I’m personally a sucker for a nice waist curve—but seeing someone dear to me skinny always puts me on edge. Humans—health matters more than looks, don’t you think?
”Herb chips are leaves—like shiso [perilla leaf]—fried crisp, then I use my skill to pull all the oil out,” I said, flipping one with a chopstick. “Sprinkle some salt and you get this crazy good crunch.”
Same skill can extract uranium-235.
Waste of a skill? If it’s between making an atomic bomb or making snacks—
”Which one brings more happiness to humanity?” I asked no one in particular. “There’s no right answer, but picking snacks probably gets you more girls. So that’s Seigi [T/N: justice, righteousness, or ‘what’s right’].”
”You can still kill a person just by hitting them with a rock, though,” Shea-Shea said suddenly.
”Where did that come from?” I blinked.
”No, it’s just—old wars, rocks were weapons, you know?” she said with a shrug.
And apparently, in the wars of the future, it’ll be rocks again. Some big shot said so.
”If you’re getting killed, does it really matter if it’s a rock or a spear?” I asked, raising a brow.
”I want the way that doesn’t hurt, obviously,” she replied.
This is a grim topic, so why… why does it feel so cozy in here?
Oh right—the guillotine. That super-scary symbol was invented for ‘humanitarian’ reasons, wasn’t it? Less pain time than the electric chair, supposedly. Still looks insane.
”Under my rule, death penalty’s abolished,” I said, waving a chip. “Criminals get bound with a slavery skill, pay off their sins mining for the rest of their lives. Victims can live with that, I figure. Sounds pretty humanitarian to me.”
”Speaking of pain,” Shea-Shea said, turning toward me, “Ms. Tizzy and the others should’ve finished giving birth by now, right? Any word from them?”
”El suddenly wanted to have the baby at Uno’s nest,” I said. “Said she plans to raise her boy into a proper warrior before the showdown with the Demon King.”
Ms. Shirakaba and Ms. Tizzy stayed with her. Said they wanted the fragile infants somewhere actually safe.
”No news is good news, right?” Shea-Shea said, plopping down beside the snacks. “Uno and the spirits are probably just completely baby-obsessed by now.”
The spirits, Uno—yeah, they really are like that.
Their affection shifts to the kids. Maybe I’ll just get tossed aside.
Or I get roped into the baby-making loop until I have kids myself?
Either way seems plausible—terrifying.
”If I’d known my husband was going to run off, I’d have stayed over there too,” she said bitterly.
Seems like she wanted to do the whole childbirth thing together, as a couple.
Wanted him to acknowledge the kid? Show the kid off?
Okay, so it was basically confirmed the problem was with him in the first place.
Is there even any love left in this?
I mean, even if he agreed, doesn’t this still count as me sleeping with Ms. Floria behind his back?
At this point, the fate of some no-name baron’s house—whatever.
Ms. Floria can rise up to Count all by herself if she feels like it.
Get some glory in the war against the Demon King and apparently you can rack up promotions however you want.
For anyone who thinks they’re tough, the Demon King’s army showing up is basically a free ticket to move up in the world.
Pull off something big and you’re a noble forever—grandkids included.
Risking your life? Guess this is what feudal values looked like.
From the king’s perspective, soldiers just hype themselves up for free—convenient.
Unless one of them gets too hyped and tries to act on their own, which is a pain.
”Ah! The pieces moved!” Shea-Shea gasped.
Of course I knew. She’d been staring at the map, mouth full, this whole time.
”The Demon King’s army went straight into the castle. No hesitation,” she said, eyes narrowing.
”The empty-castle gambit totally flopped, huh,” I said, tapping the board.
Was it even really an empty-castle gambit? Did the gates actually open?
I’ll ask Yakou about it later.
”I figured this would happen,” I muttered. “With the empty-castle trick, only chessmasters start freaking out. Actual idiots? Completely immune.”
The white piece left in the castle just glides—straight to the capital.
”Eh? Respawn?” Shea-Shea asked.
”Nah, probably a teleport skill,” I said.
”They ran? That’s it? That’s kind of lame,” she said, pouting.
”That’s where the storytellers come in—to spice it up into some blood-boiling epic,” I said. “Gotta ask Ms. Yakou for the details later.”
Too bad Yakou can’t stand Shea-Shea.
Maybe if I make them watch a period drama together, they’ll get along.
Maybe some freaky chemistry and they’ll awaken.
”Oh? The black pieces—” she began, leaning in.
All the Demon King army pieces that had stormed the castle slip-slide straight down to Totoana Empire’s capital.
Well, some landed in the graveyard pile.
”So this time it’s a real respawn,” I said. “The Demon King’s troops who went into the castle? All wiped out? Some kind of trap?”
”Looks like they only lost about ten percent,” she said, frowning. “If the Demon King’s side is respawning now, it’s gonna get tough. Not like we weren’t already outnumbered…”
Ten percent loss.
The orcs seem to get lost a bit more than the Summoned Heroes.
Still, the enemy coming back is a pain.
Turning this into a war of attrition is the wrong play.
Seems the Conqueror King’s Summoned Heroes went full Home Alone inside the castle—traps everywhere.
Magic, maybe? Or old school, like burning the place down?
Even plain fire can become a weapon if you know what you’re doing.
”Oh, right, they sold a ton of ethanol for ‘disinfection,’ didn’t they?” Shea-Shea said, blinking.
”They burned it? What a waste,” I sighed. “Should’ve tried to hike up the price more.”
”Situation changed, that’s all,” she muttered. “Who could’ve guessed we’d actually run out of all that Wall Barley after harvesting so much of it?”
This year, let’s scythe right up to the edge of the damn horizon.
Still, the Demon King—talk about shitty timing, attacking now.
Like he waited for the Wall Barley to hit rock bottom on stock, just to twist the knife.
”Even if your level’s high, you die if you get caught in fire, right?” she asked.
The fire spirit, Salamander, actually gets hype in a blaze, but regular folks can’t just hang out in that kind of heat.
Level goes up, HP climbs, resistances rise, all that.
Resist Fire? Should buff your flame resistance, sure, but that only takes the edge off.
In the end, just a matter of time, isn’t it?
Roasted alive, you’re not gonna last long at all.
”Well yeah, as long as you’re living, ah—” I began, then trailed off.
Something clicked.
Out of nowhere: those Summoned Heroes from the Conqueror King’s place.
I remember now—yapping about fuel-air bombs like it was juicy gossip.
Thought it was just another military-geek backyard chat, so I tuned them out, but—
If they really pulled it off, that’s bad news.
Even with maxed flame resist, what if all the oxygen around you gets burned up in an instant?
Can’t breathe—game over.
Fuel-air bombs—people on Earth called those things inhumane.
Rumor was, lungs could fry.
Please, stop puking out weapons like that with your knowledge cheat.
Enemies just copy you, and then it’s a boomerang straight for your skull.
Not that I’m in any position to talk—I tried a dust explosion myself once.
Can’t really climb up on a soapbox here.
Back then—guess I was looking down on this world’s folks for not having science, wasn’t I.
Subconscious, but still.
Top of the pile there’s the Dwarves, but there’s psychos everywhere.
Even Goblins—they’re freakishly dexterous.
Just one hint and boom—they might whip up a fuel-air bomb, easy.
Make a big flashy battlefield win, all eyes’ll be on you anyway.
Indra Gun or crossbows—since the bolts are the same as regular crossbows, that’s probably squeaking by, right?
But a fuel-air bomb—can you even block that with some physical-attack-proof barrier?
Supposedly, it’ll block any physical hit.
So what about a meteor? Or nukes?
”If dragon breath is the world’s biggest boom, we really shouldn’t be making weapons any nastier than that,” Shea-Shea said, rubbing her arms.
”The ancient dragons, it’s said, could burn up even the stars in the sky,” I said softly. “Maybe that’s why Lady Uno is going easy these days?”
Burning stars—now that’s a tall tale.
Sure, dragons used to be monsters, but—
Guess they got weaker, mixing with humans and all that.
”The gods set a damage cap for attacks on the lower world, you know,” Shea-Shea said brightly. “The scripture says so. Your Majesty studies hard, huh. Good good kid.”
”There are actually rules for this stuff?” I asked.
”The world’s scripture is a bore,” I muttered. “Skimmed it once and gave up. But maybe I should give it a proper read.”
”Mutually assured destruction only keeps the peace if everybody’s sane,” I said.
”In this world, there are definitely maniacs who’d do it just to drag the other guy down with them.”
Never thought Earthlings were the sensible ones. Cultures just don’t line up. Deep down—in the bones—the values here feel different.
”Wait—if there are rules, shouldn’t meteors breaking everything be off-limits?” I asked, squinting at the sky. “Or does that not count as an attack…?”
* * *
”Can’t we settle this with another cooking contest?” Shea-Shea asked, hopeful as ever.
Shea-Shea comes out with her flower-field ideas again. If only the world worked like that.
”That’s impossible,” Floria said. “We fight because talking couldn’t settle it.”
Floria hits with the facts.
But wait—talking, huh?
If the Demon King’s plans are what I think, there might actually be an exit here.
I mean, maybe I can use the Demon King’s forces too—for my own goals.
So then, the real issue is timing for the talks.
Sooner is better—fewer bodies on both sides—but without at least one serious smackdown, the Demon King’s not coming to the table.
Losing a few dozen to a fuel-air bomb barely counts. Probably just pissed him off.
”If we do negotiate with the Demon King, when’s the best time?” I asked.
Nina and Shea-Shea swapped glances, then looked at Floria. Of course. Who else?
”Normally, you’d wait for a turning point in the war,” Floria said. “When the castle gets surrounded—that’s when you send out envoys. Ideally, you want to score a big win first—the more leverage, the better—but when you’re winning, you don’t really feel like sending envoys, do you? Plus, the other side might not follow your schedule.”
T/N: “Envoy” here is the dude you send to negotiate, not a literal dove or whatever.
”So if you chase the perfect setup,” I said, “the window might close on you anyway.”
If I’m right, and we can just get to the table, win or lose won’t matter much. Usually.
More important not to pump the Demon King’s hate meter any higher.
Lose just the right amount? Like that’s easy.
Stay ready—so if a meeting with the Demon King opens up, I can jump.
* * *
”Aaah!! There’s a whole bunch of black pieces coming in! Is this what you call an ‘ambush’?” Shea-Shea shouted, pointing out the window.
Shea-Shea sounds excited, but—it’s my neighborhood. They just slipped past the patrols. Not exactly an ambush.
”So the mob on the highway was just bait,” I said. “They slogged through wasteland for a sneak attack.”
”Knew it,” Shea-Shea declared. “I totally saw this coming.”
The Demon King’s after the Holy Capital. Our country will get dragged in anyway—way too close.
On the map, our town’s the perfect outpost defending the Holy Capital. If the Demon King skips us, he’s got a knife at his back.
”Prepare for siege!” I blurted out, sounding way too king-ish.
Useless if I’m not saying it to actual soldiers.
Shea-Shea bolted.
”Sensei, please don’t push yourself!! You’re pregnant!” Nina called, running after Floria.
That left just me—and Yakou’s copy self, methodically setting out game pieces.
Well, if we’re hunkering down for a siege, the surrender envoy will come knocking.
That’s my chance to negotiate.
Notes:
• Ms. Nina – Doll Princess (Auroora 217), renamed by the protagonist. Beautiful blonde, ~168 cm, slim waist. Wears adventurer attire. Made from artificial parts and wooden limbs, resembling a princess. Knowledgeable, can read, write, and use basic healing magic. Reliable partner, often saves the protagonist with her skills.
• Nina – Doll Princess (Auroora 217), renamed by the protagonist. Beautiful blonde, ~168 cm, slim waist. Wears adventurer attire. Made from artificial parts and wooden limbs, resembling a princess. Knowledgeable, can read, write, and use basic healing magic. Reliable partner, often saves the protagonist with her skills.
• El – She is a giant woman, appeared as Saburou’s captor, living alone in a large tent, skilled in hunting and cooking, proposes marriage to Saburou.
• Shea-Shea – Mauro’s daughter. Hurt by Alexander. Became an eager fiancée after advice from protagonist.
• Yakou – A newly created kunoichi spirit with high specs from Mubiel. She pledges loyalty to the Narrator as her ‘Lord Shogun’ and seeks to punish villains.
• Miss Floria – Elegant, silver-haired noblewoman in her 40s, referred to as an ‘older sister’. Judge of the Supreme Court and Baroness. Former tutor of Princess Auroora. Initially stern but warms up, showing a playful side. Close with Ms. Nina (Princess Auroora’s doll copy), treating her like a sister. Trustworthy and explains legal matters clearly.
• Shirakaba – A paladin who seems to be a skilled fighter. He’s introduced as someone with a strong defense and healing abilities.
• Tizzy – Claims to be Duke’s daughter, a noble with advanced magic skills. MC and Ms. Shirakaba lover.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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