The Tiger and the Dragon: Act 12, Chapter 7
Chapter 7
“Mhh…so young. Hopefully, they do not spoil themselves.”
“Spoil themselves, Your Majesty?”
“Umu,” Queen Oriculus nodded. “The way they run off on their own like that is indicative of their upbringing. From the day they are born, Nobles are cared for by their mother or at least a wet nurse. As soon as they can walk, they are surrounded by a battery of tutors, attendants, security personnel and so on. Some are not even allowed to sleep alone until they find employ in another household or are married off. A Noble scion is not their own individual; neither are they allowed much freedom. The moment freedom presents itself, they tend to run off like Wagner and Gagnier just did…ah, what are We going on about? As a Butler, you should already be well aware of this.”
Sebas very certainly wasn’t, despite being a Butler. Over his time amongst the citizens of the world that Nazarick and its denizens had found themselves in, he had learned that many concepts assumed to be shared between them were, in reality, quite dissimilar. Of those concepts, ‘Butler’ and ‘Maid’ were two that he had taken the time to carefully study, both out of professional and personal interest.
From what he had learned, a Butler was originally a household servant who was something like a cupbearer. It was a position that, over time, had evolved into one of stewardship over a household and its affairs as the chief of staff. In all but the rarest of exceptions, a Butler was an aristocrat – usually a spare with the appropriate rank and professional qualifications for the position.
Those qualifications included a mountain of things that Sebas had no idea about, as well as many things that he was not proficient at, so he did his best to keep conversations with outsiders from flowing in problematic directions while he did his best to familiarise himself with those subjects for the future. Familiarisation, however, was easier said than done. Everything aside from the basics appeared to be beyond his capability to grasp. Additionally, he discovered that Albedo was actually doing what the locals considered a Butler’s job as Nazarick’s Guardian Overseer.
So, not only was it difficult to learn a Butler’s trade, but he also felt guilty over the idea that he was learning tasks that the Supreme Beings had assigned to someone else. It felt like theft and blasphemy combined.
Yet, it seemed essential in the duties assigned to him. He was Sebas Tian, the Royal Butler. Not knowing what was required for that esteemed position would bring shame to himself and the name of Ainz Ooal Gown. Though it pained him to admit it, the fact that nearly all of Queen Oriculus’ senior palace staff had been killed, eaten, or both spared him an incalculable amount of awkwardness.
The sound of approaching footsteps drew his attention to the barge’s ramp. After several moments, Minister Soruel appeared, her pale white shawl fluttering in the wind.
“Captain Inserra’s men have secured the subjects Your Majesty requested. They are being conveyed to Castle Corrin. I’ve instructed some of the temple staff that we brought with us to conduct an examination.”
“In that case,” Queen Oriculus replied, “let’s be on our way. Thank you, Soruel.”
Sebas accompanied the Queen and her ministers down the ramp, eyeing the crowded wharf. They entered the carriages that had been brought along from Oriculon, and Sebas found himself sitting beside the Queen across from Prime Minister Yorsten, Minister Soruel and Marshal Zorlu. Countess Corelyn was on the other side of the Queen.
“If I may ask, Your Majesty,” Sebas said, “who are the ‘subjects’ Minister Soruel mentioned?”
“We requested a set of subjects afflicted by Laira-related conditions to varying degrees,” Queen Oriculus replied. “The people near Rivergarden were only exposed to it for days at most, so there was little to be done but wait out the short-term effects. According to Captain Zahradnik’s reports, the condition of the people is especially severe in the area around Corrin-on-the-Lake. We must see what can be done to treat them.”
“I see. Is that why Your Majesty insisted on coming here so quickly?”
“Amongst several other matters, yes. We hope you will indulge Our selfishness.”
“We are at your service, Your Majesty.”
The Queen’s request came with greater risks, but not to the point that the Royal Army considered the move unacceptable. More concerning to Sebas was the subtle shift that he sensed in the Queen’s demeanour over the past week. Now, a storm seemed to swirl behind her dark gaze and he didn’t know what to make of it.
Their carriage slowly negotiated its way through the crowds of busy workers, and a rare break filled the cabin with sunlight. In front of him, Marshal Zorlu stifled a yawn with his hand. Queen Oriculus’ gaze went between the Marshal and the Minister on his left.
“You appear pleased at Zorlu’s development, Soruel.”
“Y-your Majesty!” Minister Soruel released Marshal Zorlu’s elbow.
A mischievous smile crossed the Queen’s lips. The young woman visibly relented.
“I’m sure that the Marshal is more pleased with his own development than I am,” Minister Soruel said. “He couldn’t come close to besting me in combat before. Now, he might be stronger than I am.”
Sebas glanced at the ornately-hilted blade at the Minister’s knee. Despite her appearance – or perhaps it was the cause of her appearance – Salacia Soruel was a respectably strong Bard by local standards. Apparently, she was instrumental in the defence of the palace before the Sorcerous Kingdom’s arrival, bolstering the spirits of the palace staff with her skills and even slaying a handful of Beastmen.
“Zorlu limps around enough to cause one to wonder whether he is pleased about it or not,” the Queen said.
“Zorlu will be fine,” Minister Soruel said. “It is the gods’ will that humanity strives to improve itself.”
“Zorlu is sitting right here,” the Marshal muttered.
“Speaking of the gods’ will,” Queen Oriculus said, “have you thought further on what was discussed the other day?”
Minister Soruel looked down at the hands folded over her knees with a solemn expression.
“I’m not sure what to think, Your Majesty,” she said. “The Draconic Kingdom has relied on the Theocracy’s goodwill for generations.”
“That goodwill came with a number of crippling stipulations,” the Queen noted. “The implications of which should not be lost on you.”
“…I know, Your Majesty. Still, must it be this way? Those stipulations also came with a number of undeniable benefits. One could say that we would not be the same country without them.”
He had no idea what they were referring to. Though he attended the Queen while the sundry tasks of the court were being taken care of, there were still many things that went on behind closed doors.
“I wonder about that,” Marshal Zorlu said. “It was a satisfactory arrangement in the past, but that arrangement has remained unchanged since before Her Majesty ascended the throne. For generations, our country structured itself around its dependence on the Theocracy. We had an agreement. They broke it, not us. It is a painful lesson. What was a matter of survival to us was merely a matter of convenience to them.”
The Marshal gestured to the cabin window with a hand.
“This is what their inconvenience means for us. It was something we had to suffer before, but not anymore. There is no point to our arrangement if they do not have the strength to uphold it.”
Queen Oriculus cleared her throat.
“To be fair, they do, but certain international conventions prohibit them from deploying that strength. What they have available in lieu of those conventions is likely insufficient to deal with our current problem, which is why they didn’t come this time around.”
“That is effectively the same thing,” Marshal Zorlu said. “Unless Your Majesty means to imply that they will deploy that strength against us if we become ‘inconvenient’ in a different sense.”
“That is the crux of the matter, I suppose,” the Prime Minister said.
“Pardon the interruption,” Sebas raised a hand, “but I appear to be missing the background to this conversation. The Sorcerous Kingdom is unaware of the fine points of the Draconic Kingdom’s arrangement with the Slane Theocracy and what problems our intervention may cause.”
The Queen leaned back in her seat, placing a hand on Sebas’ knee.
“Forgive Us, Sebas,” she said. “We are simply addressing some outstanding deliberations. We weren’t aware that Countess Corelyn didn’t brief you on this prickly aspect of Our diplomacy.”
“I wasn’t sure it was the case, Your Majesty,” Countess Corelyn said. “Dealing with parties in a superior position tends toward that party directly demanding or at least implying that their interests should be protected by anyone that they are dealing with. Unlike the countries in the north that you are already familiar with, Lord Sebas, the Slane Theocracy is just that – a theocracy. Their policies will always be in line with the mandates of their faith, and the Faith of the Six in the Slane Theocracy has taken a highly aggressive turn in the last century or so.”
“Umu,” Queen Oriculus nodded. “A dependency on the Theocracy means that We must also respect that policy. Otherwise, they simply withhold their assistance. That limits the Draconic Kingdom’s meaningful diplomacy to Human countries. Roble has its own problems and Re-Estize would bankrupt itself if it ever tried sending some sort of army here. The Empire sees no profit in sending aid and the current Emperor seems to despise female rulers. Rumour has it that he believes that women have no place in politics or leadership at all. That leaves the isolationist Wyvern Rider Tribes, the Human powers in the Koshey belt over two thousand kilometres to the south, and the Slane Theocracy. We suppose we could have goaded that Decem in Evasha into displaying his ‘Elven superiority’, but the Theocracy has been on bad terms with him for a while now.”
“Doesn’t the Draconic Kingdom have hundreds of treaties with nearby aquatic Demihuman polities?” Countess Corelyn asked, “I would have thought the Theocracy would take issue with that.”
“Aquatic Demihumans are much lower on the threat scale for the Theocracy,” the Queen answered. “They don’t compete for the same territory so the Theocracy sees more benefit in us being able to fish in peace and breed more Humans for them. As you may know, any terrestrial Demihuman tribe is kept in a primitive state by the Theocracy’s regional enforcers.”
It seemed that Yggdrasil wasn’t the only existence where Humans caused no end of trouble. Now that he thought about it, their Master was certain of Player presence or at least influence in the Slane Theocracy, so it may have been Humans from Yggdrasil affecting Human attitudes in the region.
“I suppose that our intervention will cause unwanted friction between the Theocracy and the Draconic Kingdom, then.”
“It will, but you are here and they are not. How they will react to the Sorcerous Kingdom’s influence when they learn of it is unknown, but that is a problem to be discussed after the current crisis is resolved.”
Their procession followed the road up into Castle Corrin, where hasty preparations had been made for the Queen’s arrival. Sebas scanned the battlements and rooftops as they made their way to a long building to the side of the main keep. A young man in priestly garb lowered his head as they entered the door.
“Will Your Majesty be seeing the patients now?”
“Yes. How are they?”
The Priest turned to lead them down a side hall.
“Outwardly,” he said, “there are few direct signs of being under the poison’s effects. Secondary effects, however, are plentiful. The euphoria brought about by the poison is such that one can neglect their health, forgoing food, sleep and personal hygiene. Needless to say, work and family activities are also neglected. I will spare Your Majesty the exact details, but it did need to be stated.”
“How long do the effects last?” Minister Soruel asked, “Apparently, this plant is different from the one that we’ve received information about.”
“We don’t know yet,” the Priest shook his head. “All we know is that the people dosed with the narcotic in the Rivergarden area were still poisoned by the time we left for Corrin-on-the-Lake. Since it may last a week or more, trying to keep people from poisoning themselves again would be best done by keeping areas with tainted water sources off-limits.”
“What about magical sources? The ones for this city, for instance?”
“We’ve tested those and they’re safe, Your Excellency. The volume of water conjured by those items is nowhere near enough for the rural population, however.”
Minister Soruel sighed.
“We’re not lacking in space,” she said, “but moving so many people is going to be a nightmare, especially in their state.”
“Did the advisory issued by the Royal Court not state that not every settlement was affected?”
“It did,” Minister Soruel replied, “but even if only a quarter of the settlements have thoroughly tainted water sources, that’s still half a million people to deal with. What in the world were the Beastmen thinking when they did this?”
“Going by what the people in the area related to us,” Prime Minister Yorsten said, “they may not have known about the long-term effects. Our citizens were being managed as livestock, and a Farmer doesn’t poison their own livestock. Especially not livestock that’s supposed to tend to itself.”
The first patient was an emaciated young man dressed in simple garb. As the Priest had mentioned, he seemed perfectly normal aside from the fact he was so thin. It took him a moment to realise they were there, at which point he rose to his feet with a nervous expression. His mouth opened, then closed, and he settled on silently bobbing his head in greeting.
Sebas thought back to his time in Re-Estize. How many people resembled the man before him? The city folk, especially, lived in impoverished conditions, so telling an addict apart from a healthy person was nearly impossible. People would take it to distract themselves from the daily troubles that they ultimately couldn’t do anything about.
The Queen stepped forward, uncaring of the lack of proper address. She smiled up at the young man.
“What is your name?” She asked.
“…Kest.”
“Thank you for coming, Kest. You may be seated, if you wish.”
The man sat back down. Queen Oriculus remained where she stood.
“Do you know who I am?”
Kest seemed to struggle with the question. After several seconds, he nodded.
“How do you feel, now?” The Queen asked.
“I…wh-what happened?”
Queen Oriculus sent a pointed look in the Priest’s direction. He came forward to examine the patient.
“He’s…healthy? Aside from the malnutrition, I don’t sense anything wrong about him.”
“In that case,” the Queen turned around, “make sure Kest gets a good meal. Let’s take a look at the next patient.”
They left the room with its somewhat bewildered occupant. The Priest went ahead to check on the next patient. When the door to the room opened again, they entered to find a young woman in a similar physical condition. The woman, however, didn’t react to their appearance, staring blankly at the wall at the foot of her bed.
“Apologies, Your Majesty,” the Priest said. “The patient is not very responsive.”
“How many are like this?”
“Most of the villages relying on wells for water. This woman is from a village three kilometres southwest of the city. I’m afraid to say everyone there was in the same condition or worse.”
As the Priest spoke, the woman’s stare turned toward them. A tear ran down her cheek, and she flipped around and buried herself under her covers. The Priest turned around to find the quivering pile on the bed behind him. An occasional sob from the woman leaked through.
Sebas frowned. What was going on? The patients were being cured, but the telltale effects of healing magic were absent.
Once the Priest confirmed the woman’s healthy condition, they entered the hallway again. When the priest stopped to open the door across the corridor, the Queen spoke.
“I am already done with that one,” she said. “Next.”
The Priest drew his hand back from the latch and led them further along. In the next room lay another young woman. A basket lay on the chair beside her bed. Minister Soruel sniffled and dabbed at her cheek with a handkerchief as she looked down at the infant within.
“Since this is a natural poison,” the Priest said, “the young are especially vulnerable to the way that it was distributed. Much like alcohol poisoning, the mass of the individual ingesting the substance matters, and growing children consume a higher percentage of their mass in food and drink. The effects on their physical and mental development…”
His words trailed into a despondent sigh. A cry rose from the basket.
“Find someone to take care of the child,” Queen Oriculus said.
The Priest examined the child, and then his mother.
“The child is healthy now, but the mother…”
“I will see to her later,” Queen Oriculus said. “Lunch awaits.”
They left the castle’s makeshift ward, heading back outside and making their way to the keep. The skies had clouded over again, threatening them with an imminent downpour.
“If I may ask, Your Majesty,” Countess Corelyn said. “Was that…”
“Wild Magic? Yes. I apologise for its lack of impressiveness. A part of me thinks that Tier Magic comes with all of its flashiness for entertainment purposes.”
“Will you be healing all of your people the same way? Honestly, it comes as a relief. We thought there was a humanitarian disaster on the Draconic Kingdom’s hands.”
“You saw it just now, yes?” Queen Oriculus replied, “Four is my limit. If millions require healing…”
If Wild Magic took as long as mana to recover, it would take many lifetimes to heal so many. She possessed the power to alter reality itself, yet she couldn’t alter enough of it.
“So one wouldn’t be able to tell if Wild Magic is being employed at all, Your Majesty?” Sebas asked.
“That depends,” the Queen answered. “The presence of superfluous effects that others can detect is entirely dependent on the caster. Since it is true sorcery, how the caster visualises the spell has a real effect on how it appears. Some of the more common examples of this are special attacks: since a Dragon’s mind naturally thinks of a breath attack as a special attack, many of those Wild Magic attacks manifest as breath attacks even though they don’t strictly need to be.”
“In that case,” Sebas said, “wouldn’t Wild Magic be excellent for combat? Tier Magic spells usually always come with cues that warn their targets about what is happening.”
“Tier Magic has a similar ‘issue’ as the one I mentioned before. ‘Mana’, as it is commonly called, is not primordial energy that is required to manifest in any particular way. Primordial energies associated with water must manifest into water-associated environmental effects or ‘water spirits’ like Elementals and Nereids. However, before it is used, mana is simply mana. Formless. A resource consumed to produce results based on certain formulas. A brace of Magic Arrows could just have easily become a ward against evil or a basket of bread. What mana can become is dependent on the caster.”
“One can run out of mana, Your Majesty,” Sebas noted.
“There are ways around that,” the Queen said. “Just as there are with Wild Magic.”
They ascended to the third floor of the keep’s central tower, where a table set with dishes and utensils awaited them. Along one side of the great hall, Baroness Zahradnik stood at an arrow slit, gazing down at the city.
“Captain Zahradnik,” the Queen smiled brightly. “We are pleased that you could make it. Were you able to meet with Marshal Saroukhanyan?”
“I was, Your Majesty,” the Baroness dipped into a curtsey as the Queen walked up to her. “His Excellency expressed his pleasure over our progress and hopes to make some of his own over the next few weeks. The citizens of Foca Bay are similarly elated over recent developments.”
“Did you find out how Foca Bay survived for so long, Captain?” Marshal Zorlu asked, “I heard that at least one of the Beastmen that participated in the retaliation against Crystal Tear was actively fighting in the southern provinces. Since that was the case, our people shouldn’t have stood any chance.”
“Optics, probably,” Queen Oriculus said with a sour look.
“It is as Her Majesty says,” the Baroness nodded. “Blazing Crimson, along with several other Worker and Adventurer teams, kept the Beastmen at bay until the city ran out of valuables to pay them with. After that happened, the Workers remained for long enough to acquire several galleons to carry their earnings away. Over eighty per cent of the Adventurers in the city went with them.”
“In that case, how did Foca Bay survive afterwards?”
“Certain precedents had already been set, which the then-General Saroukhanyan took full advantage of. The local Sharkfolk secured the bay while His Excellency went on the offensive, putting on a show of strength that the Beastmen had no choice but to respect. By taking the fight to the Beastmen and wreaking havoc on their civilian population, all thought and energy were drawn away from the city. The man is a shrewd strategist.”
“It seems like Demihumans are more reliable allies than the Theocracy,” Marshal Zorlu grumbled.
“I hear it was much the same in the Holy Kingdom of Roble,” Baroness Zahradnik said. “Re-Estize declined their entreaties for aid despite being a Human country sharing the same coastline, but the local aquatic Demihumans helped Roble’s Royal Navy resist Jaldabaoth’s attempts to push into the south.”
Sebas’ moustache shifted slightly at Lady Zahradnik’s rendition of events in the Holy Kingdom, but he was forced to admit that it wasn’t explicitly a lie.
As despicable as his methods were, Demiurge’s actions had a way of stripping away pretence and revealing the true nature of people. Unfortunately, those that demonstrated a steadfast, goodly nature were purposely targeted for disposal unless Demiurge intended to use them to further his evil schemes.
Those that he left behind were fragile, weak-minded and rife with problematic behaviours, slowing and even undermining any attempts at a proper recovery. Once a proud bastion of good, the Holy Kingdom of Roble was now a hollow shell of itself, its foundations shattered and its people vulnerable to the Archdevil’s manipulation. Even now, he was working to create a state of permanent dependency on the Sorcerous Kingdom, and the finest of the Holy Kingdom goods were being offered up for ‘humanitarian aid’ composed of grain that the Sorcerous Kingdom couldn’t otherwise get rid of even if they offered it for free.
Their Master mandated the candy and the whip in their approach to the peoples of the region, but Demiurge always made sure that the candy was offered in a dish placed inside a cage.
In nearly every way, the Sorcerous Kingdom’s efforts in the Draconic Kingdom were the complete opposite of what was going on in Roble. Yet, even without any machinations on Nazarick’s part, Sebas knew that it was merely another large-scale experiment in the eyes of Nazarick’s greatest minds.
Even so, it had to succeed. To show beyond the shadow of a doubt to Nazarick’s denizens that this way was the right way.
“Are we late?” A voice came from the entrance to the hall.
“Are you late?” Baroness Zahradnik asked.
“Uh…we didn’t mean it, I swear,” Countess Wagner said. “Florine was distracted by a stray cat.”
“We did not specify a time,” Queen Oriculus said. “Come, there is much to discuss.”
They settled down around the table, with Sebas attending to them as has become customary. After a few weeks of being far too busy with their other duties, the palace staff relinquished most of the physical duties of footmen to him. And it was just as well, as he quickly lost any sense of the matters being discussed over the meal.
That was at least until Queen Oriculus made a certain request.
“Captain Zahradnik. We would attend the reconquest of Eastwatch.”
Sebas froze. Every hand moving at their plates stopped.
“That is a considerable risk to take, Your Majesty,” Baroness Zahradnik replied. “I highly doubt this is the case, but this is hardly the time for the rashness of youth to surface. A Queen has duties to fulfil. None of those duties requires her to take the field. There may have been a premise if it was the Draconic Kingdom’s Royal Army fighting the battle, but Your Majesty will have no effect on the Undead.”
“A Queen’s duties, huh,” Queen Oriculus murmured. “I take it that you and the members of Countess Corelyn’s delegation understand the Draconic Kingdom’s script?”
Around the table, the heads of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s delegation nodded. The Queen stood, picking up a brush beside her. She dipped it in the provided inkwell and her hand moved in the sharp strokes of the Draconic Kingdom's script as she wrote on a fresh piece of paper. She held up the result.
“What does this say?” She asked.
“Draconic Kingdom,” Countess Corelyn said.
“Are you sure about that?”
Countess Corelyn exchanged looks with the other Nobles from the Sorcerous Kingdom. Queen Oriculus smirked and used her hand to cover a portion of her writing.
“What does this say?”
“Country.”
The Queen’s hand moved.
“And this?”
“Dragon.”
Her hand moved again.
“King,” Countess Corelyn said.
“So is it ‘Draconic Kingdom’ or ‘Dragon King Country’?”
“Is there a difference, Your Majesty? A country ruled by a King is a Kingdom.”
“‘Draconic Kingdom’ is simply mortal wilfulness. The desire to define and shape things according to one’s perception, regardless of the truth. This behaviour also means that individuals and even countries are not defined according to their true qualities, but by what others perceive them as.
“It is not ‘Draconic Kingdom’ – It is ‘Dragon Lord Country’. Mine, to be precise. In many languages around the world, the ‘Lord’ in ‘Dragon Lord’ is synonymous with ‘King’. ‘Dragon Lord’ and ‘Dragon King’ are the same thing in Draconic. Because many cultural groups have principalities, kingdoms, empires and the like, collective perception becomes warped according to those societal constructs. Warped to the point where even the way that the world translates speech adopts the new label. That is why my domain ends up being called the ‘Draconic Kingdom’.”
“I believe that I understand what Your Majesty is saying,” Countess Corelyn said, “but this country is a Kingdom and you are a Queen, yes?”
“No,” Queen Oriculus’ said. “I am Queen in the sense that a female ruler may be called a Queen. What I truly am, however, has always been one thing: a Dragon Lord. The Draconic Kingdom is not a Kingdom at all: it is the land of a Dragon King. In other words, it is the domain of a Dragon Lord.”
“In that case, what is the name of this ‘Dragon King County’?”
“Zahradnik, I believe you know a Dragon.”
“I do, your Majesty.”
“Did she name her domain?”
“No, Your Majesty.”
“I bet you ended up naming it for her, anyway.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. More for convenience and legal matters than anything else.”
Queen Oriculus set down the piece of paper with a smirk.
“And there you have it,” she said. “Dragons feel no need to name their domains: they just are. It is others that come up with names for them. This name that the region has come up with for my domain would be very confusing elsewhere in the world, by the way. There are a lot of ‘Draconic Kingdoms’ out there.”
“But Your Majesty’s system of government shares many similarities to ours,” Countess Wagner pointed out. “Enough to believe that it is the same form of government or close enough.”
“Do you believe that this form of government simply popped out of the nothingness that the Demon Gods left behind?” Queen Oriculus arched an eyebrow. “It is older than you probably think.”
“So what’s used in the north is just a…a…copy of something else?”
“Your system is pieced together out of the remnants of a much older system. That system is merely an imitation of an ancient system. One designed for powerful immortals. It is not meant for mortals, which is why you see the problems that you do in mortal domains…which brings me to my own problems.”
The Queen emptied her goblet of wine and took a deep breath before continuing.
“As a Dragon Lord, I have certain duties. I have tried explaining what those duties are to others before, but that has only resulted in confusion, scorn, or both. There is one thing that I believe most would understand in part, however. As Dragon Lord, I must defend my domain from what is detrimental to the souls under my care…and Dragons defend their domains personally.”
“Is that why you’ve become so aggressive recently?” Baroness Zahradnik asked.
“That’s right,” Queen Oriculus answered.
“Wait a minute,” Countess Wagner said. “Your people have been preyed on by the Beastmen for the gods know how long. Yet, when they bring out the Laira, it’s suddenly a problem?”
“Dragon Lords understand that the world does not exist at the convenience of any single race. Not every soul is equal in the eyes of the World, but every soul should be allowed to write their own story. Things like Laira interfere with that.”
“And things like getting eaten don’t?”
“Death is a part of life, Countess.”
“…but they’re your people,” Baroness Gagnier said.
“From a Dragon’s perspective,” the Queen said, “the Beastmen drawing sustenance from the denizens of my domain are also my people.”
“I’m pretty sure they don’t see it that way,” Countess Wagner muttered.
“Probably not,” Queen Oriculus smirked. “Dragons being attacked and killed by beings living in their domains is not rare. It happens quite often when Giants are involved.”
“Do your subjects know about this…stance?” Countess Corelyn asked.
The Prime Minister, Minister, and Marshal nodded.
“I know it seems strange to you,” Prime Minister Yorsten said, “but ours is a country that is meant to be a part of this world. It is not like the other Human countries in the region that seek to dominate everything that they can and impose Human order. We are more akin to Argland than Slane, Re-Estize or Baharuth.”
“So Your Majesty wishes to be at Eastwatch because you are acting to defend your domain?” Lady Zahradnik asked.
“For too long now,” Queen Oriculus looked down at the table, “I have been hesitant to act as a Dragon Lord should. But, now, I must. What I am asking for is your help to do what needs to be done.”
Silence settled over the table. After several moments, Baroness Zahradnik’s eyes went past Queen Oriculus to Sebas. For the first time since his misadventure in Re-Estize, he found that he had been presented with an important choice.
Helping those in need is a matter of course.
…was what he wanted to say, but blindly using that justification had gotten him into trouble before. More importantly, it had inconvenienced his Master.
Draudillon Oriculus was a good person. As a sovereign, she genuinely cared for her subjects and her people loved her in return. If asked for a report on the Draconic Kingdom, that’s what he would have said. But that sort of thing mattered little to individuals such as Demiurge and Albedo. In fact, it might have encouraged Demiurge to abduct the Queen and transform her into an experimental subject while turning the Draconic Kingdom into another Roble.
Over time, however, he started to see things that would hold practical value for the Sorcerous Kingdom – things that Baroness Gagnier insisted had been there from the beginning. Now their discussion had turned up several more definitive points.
As Prime Minister Yorsten had stated, there was a problem with the Human countries in the vicinity of E-Rantel. They all possessed a certain character: a sort of belligerent ambition. Sebas did not doubt that Demiurge could exploit that character to achieve the reprehensible ‘processes’ that he used to facilitate his means – his machinations toward them were likely already in effect – but it didn’t change the fact that it was fundamentally incompatible with Ainz Ooal Gown’s vision for the Sorcerous Kingdom. The ends justifying the means was a fallacy when those means would mar the ends achieved.
The Draconic Kingdom, however, was the first country that was highly compatible with the Sorcerous Kingdom and its ideological goals. Furthermore, it was a crucial example of how a country could be won over through goodwill and diplomacy to become a valuable member of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s hegemony. They had to maintain everything that made it what it was.
“It would be irresponsible to say that the Queen’s safety is absolutely guaranteed,” he said, “but I will do what little that I can to help.”
“In that case,” Baroness Zahradnik said, “the Royal Army will accommodate Your Majesty’s request.”
Queen Oriculus turned a thankful smile up at him. Sebas steeled himself to see his decision through. For the sake of all that was good, the Sorcerous Kingdom’s mission in the Draconic Kingdom had to succeed.
Read 𝓁at𝙚st chapters at (f)re𝒆we(b)novel.com Only