Chapter 32: A Lucrative Agreement
"Bring him in," I commanded, leaning back into the plush leather of my chair. I quickly composed myself, wiping away any lingering trace of the annoyance the Sanctus Humanitas petition had caused me.
The doors swung open, and Fidus escorted a man into my study. He was tall, sharp-featured, and dressed in the impeccably tailored, understated navy-blue coat characteristic of the Federation of Libertas. Despite his refined appearance, there were deep dark circles under his eyes, and the slight tremble in his hands reflected his exhaustion.
He stepped forward and executed a flawless, respectful bow. "Your Highness, Crown Prince and Prince Regent Alexius. I am Charles Benedict Hawthorne, Foreign Minister of the Federation of Libertas. I thank you for receiving me on such impossibly short notice."
"Minister Hawthorne, please," I replied, gesturing to the seat opposite my desk. "The Federation of Libertas is a long way from the capital. I hope your journey went well. I am told your business is urgent. Speak freely."
"Thank you, Your Highness."
Charles took a seat, pulling a heavily warded runic cylinder from his coat.
"Foreign Minister: If I may…"
"Alexius: Of course, please."
He twisted the brass end, deactivating the seal, and pulled out a crystalline projector. Placing it on my desk, he channeled a sliver of mana into the device. A three-dimensional map flickered to life, illuminating my darkened study with a pale, ethereal blue light.
Fascinating.
"Your Highness, I will not waste your time with diplomatic pleasantries. The Federation is facing an existential crisis," Charles began.
"A month ago, our deepest scouting parties on the northwestern border of the Federation, which borders the Sea of Forest, confirmed and sent terrifying information. We found a Sin."
"A Sin?"
Fidus, standing by the door, instinctively rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.
Every educated ruler on the continent knew the horrifying reality of the Sins. As the ancient texts dictated, Sins were unique, apocalyptic monsters born once every century. They were the horrific byproduct of mana toxification. When a monster race overbred in a concentrated area, their collective existence absorbed the ambient mana of the world, processing it and releasing a highly volatile, corrupted byproduct known as toxification.
If this cycle was left unchecked, the concentrated toxification birthed a singularity—a unique monster of unfathomable power and terrifying intelligence.
"Yes, Your Highness,"
"Specifically, the Sin of Orcs. We estimate it was born approximately fifty years ago. Because the lands are so treacherous and isolated, it went unnoticed. It began as an average-sized orc; however, by devouring lesser creatures, cannibalizing its own kind, and bathing in half a century of unbroken toxification, it has grown powerful."
"If it has been alive that long, it is no longer just a wandering beast," I said.
"It isn't," Charles confirmed. "It has gained high intelligence. It has systematically united the normally scattered, warring tribes of the Orcish lands. It has established a massive, heavily fortified stronghold, and it commands an army of hundreds of thousands of frenzied orcs."
"The Kalian Empire to the north is currently dealing with its own anomaly—the Sin of Gigantum. And we are dealing with ours."
So that was the main reason the Imperial army retreated from the Principality. How did they obtain that information? Even my Nightwatch and Venator Order could not gather a single piece of intelligence about their retreat. The Federation's intelligence network far surpassed our own. I needed to further develop our intelligence capabilities.
Also, why were they telling us this information? Were they that desperate? Or did they seek to establish trust before negotiations? I had to be careful dealing with him. He was formidable.
"But your Federation is a formidable superpower in its own right, Minister. You have five Rank 8 Sword Masters and three Rank 8 Grand Mages. Why are you coming to me in a panic?"
Charles swallowed hard, the blue light from the projector casting long shadows across his face. "Because, Your Highness, our seers and Grand Mages recently made a horrifying discovery. The Sin of Orcs is no longer simply a Sin of Orcs. It has absorbed enough souls, blood, and corrupted mana to trigger an evolutionary state. It is about to evolve into the Sin of Wrath."
The Sin of Wrath. If a standard Sin was a national threat, an evolved Sin was a continental extinction event. The sheer density of toxic mana required for such a metamorphosis meant the creature was preparing to unleash a shockwave of destruction that would wipe the Federation of Libertas off the map—and nearby kingdoms, including us.
"If it completes its evolution," Charles continued,
"our five Sword Masters and three Grand Mages will be slaughtered within minutes. To subjugate it before it evolves, to break through its toxification barrier and its hundreds of thousands of guards, we need overwhelming, absolute force. We need your Rank 8 Sword Masters and your Grand Mages, Your Highness. We need Zemlya, Solon, and Fidus."
I looked at him, processing the magnitude of the request. Deploying my highest-tier combatants to a foreign nation was an immense risk. How did they know about Zemlya? That information was top secret, and she had been declared dead to the public.
"Why us, Minister? There are other powers on this continent. Surely they could assist you just as well—if not better?"
"We do not trust them," Charles replied without hesitation. "The Southern Nations are weak and preoccupied with their own internal struggles. Our western neighbor, the Horde of Kham Beastkins, is fragmented—its tribes are divided and constantly at war among themselves. The Elves and Dwarves are facing an existential crisis due to their prolonged conflict with the Kalian Empire. And the Empire itself…"
He paused briefly.
"…is far too volatile. Too expansionist. Too imperialistic."
"What about the Holy See? I've heard they possess the power to ward evil from the face of the earth. Surely they could provide assistance?"
Charles's expression hardened. "We are a secular state, Your Highness. We believe in freedom and equal rights under law. But we do not place our trust in the Holy See of Humantus. Their doctrine elevates humanity while oppressing other races. That is not a foundation for cooperation—it is a prelude to domination."
He held my gaze.
"But you, Your Highness—your recent actions have sent shockwaves across the continent."
He pointed toward the window, out at the bustling capital. "One month ago, you issued the Edict of Emancipation. You abolished slavery and enacted equal rights for all races. You elevated beastkin, dwarves, and elves to the level of humanity. The Federation of Libertas is a nation built on the ideals of freedom and representation. We were profoundly impressed by your decree. You are the only power left on this continent that shares our core values, and the only leader we trust to partner with."
He stood and bowed deeply. "Yes, Your Highness. Please help us."
War was expensive, and true hegemony required economic dominance as much as martial strength. Assistance without reward had no meaning at all. They would not want to owe us either. It was better to demand a fitting return.
"What will we gain after we help you? I will not risk the pillars of my military for empty gratitude."
Minister Hawthorne straightened. "You will be generously rewarded, Your Highness. The Federation is wealthy. We will supply everything during the campaign—logistics, rations, armaments, and medical support. Furthermore, we will sign an exclusive trade agreement. We will purchase your Principality's products—your local specialty black steel and agricultural yields—at a premium. Let us say, ten percent above the current market price."
"We are prepared to enact a federal decree," Charles continued. "For the next decade, all import and export tariffs between our borders will be abolishedIn exchange, we request military assistance… and access to your technology—specifically the production methods of paper and soap. In return, we will provide you with the production method of our mana-autonomous golems."
That was a compelling offer.
The Federation was renowned across the continent for its autonomous golems, creations originally pioneered by one of their Earth-affinity Grand Mages. Unlike Zemlya's summoned constructs—which operated entirely on the summoner's mana capacity and dissipated once that supply was exhausted—Libertas' autonomous golems possessed independent mana cores.
These mana cores functioned as rechargeable reservoirs. Any individual with mana could replenish them periodically, allowing the golem to operate continuously without draining a single master. Moreover, their mana consumption was significantly more efficient than summoned constructs, requiring fewer resources for sustained function.
The applications were vast. Agricultural labor. Infrastructure development. Mining. Construction. Even disciplined military deployment.
However, there was a crucial restriction. By federal law, only citizens of the Federation of Libertas were permitted to purchase such constructs, and the export or sharing of production methods was strictly prohibited.
This proposal would be an exception.
It was not a poor exchange. Paper would streamline administration, reduce bureaucratic stagnation, and accelerate literacy across the Federation Soap, simple as it seemed, would dramatically improve hygiene and lower mortality rates over time. Combined, they would strengthen the state from its foundations.
Charles continued
"We propose a joint establishment of production facilities within your territory. The Federation will share the method of constructing autonomous golems, and together we will construct a factory under shared authority. Profits shall be divided equally. The same arrangement would apply to paper and soap production. However, there will be one condition—neither side shall share these production methods with any third party. Exclusivity between the Federation and the Leo Principality."
Mana golems will instrumental in our rapid agricultural expansion and infrastructural recovery. Relinquishing exclusive control over that technology was no small concession at their side. Yet in return, they would gain access to paper and soap production. We will also have tariff-free access to one of the wealthiest markets on the continent, with a guaranteed ten-percent premium over standard rates.
The economic injection alone would be astronomical.
It would fund modernization, secure my dominance over internal factions, and strengthen the Principality's industrial base for a generation.
"I turned to Foreign Minister Charles. 'We will help.'"
A long breath escaped Charles's lips in relief.
"Thank you, Your Highness. The Federation of Libertas will not forget this. A Blood-Bound Charter containing the agreed conditions, signed personally by our Chancellor, will be delivered to you within the coming days."
"Fidus will coordinate with your counterparts regarding troop movements and the deployment of our Grand Mages," I replied evenly. "We march before the week is out."
Charles nodded. He deactivated the crystalline projector in his hand, and the glowing blue map dissolved into particles of fading light.
Before turning to leave, he reached into the inner lining of his coat.
"Before I depart, Your Highness, there is one final matter."
"A token of goodwill from the intelligence network of Libertas. Over the past two months, our agents intercepted several couriers attempting to cross our borders."
He placed a thick, wax-sealed parchment upon my desk.
The seal bore the unmistakable insignia of Marquess Orientis, leader of the Eastern Faction.
"Consider it a gift," Charles said with a final bow. "May Deos watch over our combined forces."
Fidus escorted the Foreign Minister out, the heavy doors closing softly behind them, leaving the chamber in silence.
I stared at the seal for a long moment before breaking it.
As I read the contents, a dark smile slowly curved across my lips.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
…
Outside, the Federation carriage rolled through the palace gates, iron wheels crunching softly over gravel.
Charles glanced back once at the towering walls of the royal palace.
"He is unlike the rumors. Far more formidable… and far more sharp-witted."
He leaned back into the cushioned seat.
"I can only hope the Chancellor's decision to cooperate with him was not a mistake."
The carriage continued forward into the summer heat of July.
(Continue....)