"In ancient times, during the height of the Elven Empire, the alliance between the Elves and the Dwarves was an unmatched force," Talleyrand began, his voice clear in the cold winter air as he walked alongside Ryan through the streets of Erengrad's ruins. The Elf diplomat was dressed in fine aristocratic attire, his cane rhythmically tapping the frozen ground as he smiled slyly. "Back then, when the Elven Empire came to the Old World, it was none other than Malekith—then the ambassador to the Dwarven mountain kingdoms—who led the first expeditions. They quickly realized the Old World was brimming with unclaimed, fertile lands, waiting for settlers."
"I know this," Ryan replied with a nod. In fact, nearly all of the Old World's major cities were built upon the ruins of former Elven colonies.
It was not unlike what had happened in Ryan's previous world: after the fall of the Western Roman Empire, kingdoms like the Ostrogoths, Visigoths, Franks, Lombards, and Anglo-Saxons rose from Rome's ruins and declared themselves its successors. In a similar manner, the great human kingdoms of the Old World had established themselves on the remnants of the Elven Empire.
If the Empire was the offspring of the Elven Empire and the Dwarven mountain kingdoms, Bretonnia might be likened to an illegitimate child of the Elves.
"Back then, there were vast expanses of uninhabited, fertile lands," Talleyrand continued with a chuckle. "The Dwarves were content in their mountain halls, and the plains and forests were largely untouched. Only a few scattered waystations and trading posts marked the landscape. The land was ripe for development. To encourage colonization, Phoenix King Bel-Shanaar proclaimed a national policy of 'land claiming.'"
"Any noble or merchant with the means could apply to the Phoenix Court for permission to colonize the Old World. The rules were simple: ride a horse and circle the area you wished to claim. If you could demonstrate the ability to defend the land, it would officially become yours, complete with a land deed signed by the Phoenix King himself."
Ryan's eyes narrowed slightly as understanding dawned.
Seeing Ryan's expression shift, Talleyrand pressed on. "Thus began the great Age of Exploration and the Elven Golden Age. Countless Elves, driven by dreams of wealth and glory, left Ulthuan to settle across the globe. Bel-Shanaar himself journeyed far and wide, even meeting High King Snorri Whitebeard at the fabled Everpeak. Imagine it, Your Majesty: a world where all wealth flowed into Ulthuan, where the economy grew exponentially, where birthrates soared, incomes rose, and unemployment vanished. Many believed Ulthuan would enter an era of eternal prosperity."
Talleyrand paused for effect, then added, "I'm not saying that the 'land claiming' policy is a perfect fit for Kislev, but it's a strategy with merits. More importantly, it's a powerful way to win over the boyars and military officers—the backbone of this nation."
Ryan nodded slowly. "So, you're suggesting we encourage the local Kislevite boyars and officers to claim lands outside Erengrad by clearing out Chaos remnants. Whoever secures the land gets to keep it?"
"Exactly! Why not?" Talleyrand leaned in, his eyes gleaming with cunning. "Let them deal with the problem themselves. If they fight for it, they'll own it. And believe me, these Kislevites will fight tooth and nail for land. It's the fastest way to achieve real control over these unclaimed and newly conquered territories."
"But won't that lead to military privatization and massive land monopolies?" Ryan countered, his brow furrowed. "Peasants will be reduced to serfs and tenant farmers, and the soldiers will eventually become private armies loyal to their commanders. Isn't that just fostering warlordism?"
"Oh, my dear King," Talleyrand said, feigning exasperation. "The boyars are already warlords! Let's not kid ourselves. These people are not your subjects. No matter how benevolent you are, they will always see you as an outsider—a foreign friend at best. Our goal isn't to govern them directly. All we need is for these Kislevites to hold the line against Chaos, buying time for the Old World to prepare. Who cares about land monopolies or private armies? That's their problem, not ours. If the land belongs to them, they'll fight to defend it. Without such incentives, why would they risk their lives for this frozen wasteland?"
Ryan couldn't help but laugh. It was both amusing and sobering to see the problem laid out so bluntly. He realized he'd been constrained by conventional thinking, clinging to ideals that didn't suit the harsh realities of this world.
In his previous life, centralization and unification had been treated as the ultimate political virtues. People longed for an omnipotent state, where the central government controlled everything—finances, military power, and administration. The dream was to conquer vast territories and build an empire that spanned continents.
But was that even possible?
History showed that overextended empires often resorted to decentralization to survive. Faced with insurmountable challenges—whether financial collapse, military defeats, or internal strife—central governments had little choice but to delegate power to local authorities.
For instance, the Eastern Han Dynasty had relied on local warlords to suppress the Yellow Turban Rebellion. The Tang Dynasty had granted enormous powers to military governors (jiedushi) to stabilize the empire after the collapse of the fubing system. Even the Qing Dynasty had cooperated with local elites to quell uprisings.
These measures were stopgaps, not solutions. They often led to long-term problems like regionalism and fragmentation, but they bought time.
In this world, the pressures were even greater. Ryan knew that relying solely on Bretonnian troops to fight a protracted counterinsurgency in the frozen north would bankrupt his kingdom and drain his army's strength. Unlike the Dwarves of Eight Peaks, Kislevites weren't sitting on vast reserves of wealth.
"But what if Katarin co-opts the boyars and steals the fruits of our victory?" Ryan asked, voicing his final concern. "As you said, to the Kislevites, I'll always be an outsider."
Talleyrand smirked, his expression turning cold and calculating. "Your Majesty, the answer is simple. The Chaos main force has been annihilated. The upcoming battles won't be determined by strategy or tactics but by resources and logistics. Unite with Lady Emilia and control the supply lines. No matter how many troops the boyars raise—ten thousand, twenty thousand, thirty thousand—they'll be nothing more than frozen corpses if they lack food and equipment. Katarin? Does she have the means to support them? And even if she tries, the boyars are pragmatic. They'll pledge loyalty to whoever ensures their survival. A mighty Bretonnian king or a destitute tsarina—who do you think they'll choose?"
"Brilliant!" Ryan clapped his hands, grinning. "It's settled! We'll proceed as you suggest. Kislevites can take charge of the Grand Duchy of Erengrad, but Bretonnians will manage its treasury and logistics."
"By the way, Talleyrand, I'm recalling you from Nuln," Ryan added, patting the Elf on the shoulder. "You'll serve as my Minister of Foreign Affairs. Your salary will be four hundred gold crowns per year."
"Y-Your Majesty!" Talleyrand stammered, overwhelmed with emotion. The Elf dropped to his knees, trembling with excitement. "Thank you! Thank you!"
One week later, Rokossovsky's Kislevite army and Belial's Ungol regiment arrived in Erengrad, joining forces with the Bretonnian and Imperial armies to mop up Chaos remnants in the surrounding areas.
In the Frosthome Inn, Ryan received the famed Kislevite marshal, now celebrated across the Old World for his role in Operation Bagration.
"Marshal Konstantin Konstantinovich Rokossovsky, welcome," Ryan said warmly. Sitting beside him, Emilia offered a polite smile. "I hear you've been enjoying your time in Couronne?"
Rokossovsky chuckled awkwardly, recalling his brief stay in Couronne. During those two weeks, he'd become infatuated with Eva Green de Glasgow, a Bretonnian noblewoman and singer. What he didn't know was that Eva was a "swallow" placed by Belial under Suria's orders.
"He doesn't like gold? Then give him women. Women like jewelry and gold—it's all the same," Belial had instructed.
After some pleasantries, Rokossovsky made two requests: proper care for wounded and retired soldiers and assurance that Bretonnia would not annex Erengrad.
Ryan agreed in principle, but only for troops that had participated in Operation Bagration and those integrated into the Erengrad Guard. Rokossovsky accepted these terms.
"And what about you, Konstantin?" Ryan asked, sipping his coffee. "You're still technically a condemned man, aren't you?"
"I… I don't know. But no matter what, I'm a Kislevite. I won't betray my homeland," Rokossovsky said hesitantly. "If necessary, I'd be content living out my days in quiet exile in Couronne, to avoid causing trouble between our nations."
"Such talent shouldn't
go to waste," Ryan said with a smile. "I'd like to offer you command of my newly established Bretonnian Royal 1st Guard Lancers. What do you think?"
"I…" Rokossovsky hesitated, caught off guard.
At that moment, Talleyrand burst into the room, shivering from the cold. "Your Majesty, they've arrived!"
"Who?" Ryan asked, setting down his cup.
"The Tsarina's envoys!" Talleyrand exclaimed. "They've come to thank us for our aid and… to declare that, in the Tsarina's name, they are reclaiming all of Erengrad!"
"As expected," Ryan said, his expression calm and composed. "Katarin has come to seize the spoils of our victory."
The stage was set. The game was on.
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