"Understood."
In a word, it was a mess.
The regent and the emperor, mother and son, domestic factions and foreign powers, royalists and republicans. Every conceivable interest was tangled together in a web of chaos. The nobles must have been busy furiously counting on their abacuses, trying to figure out which side to back. Small-scale fief wars may have already broken out in some regions.
"If there are no further questions, then allow me to explain our party's role going forward. We will proceed along the Imperial Road as planned, and..."
"Hm?"
I tilted my head.
From what I knew of the game's setting, the Frank Empire's civil war involved far more complicated circumstances than what had been laid out. There were still critical details that hadn't been mentioned. Zachary noticed the odd expression on my face and asked a question.
"Your Highness. Was there perhaps something lacking in my explanation?"
Zachary asked. The dwarf genuinely believed he had explained everything.
Ah.
Only then did I realize. That's right. At this point in time, it was still a 'secret.' It wouldn't become public knowledge for another ten years — but right now, only a handful of people knew the truth. Not even Paimon's Liberation Alliance, which had secret agents spread across the continent, was aware of it.
Nobody knew.
A hot thrill surged slowly from deep within my gut.
I knew. How the Frank civil war would unfold, how it would overturn the continent's entire balance of power. In ten years, the outline of these events would be recorded dryly in history books. But right now, this information was worth more than a thousand gold pieces.
"Heh."
A faint laugh slipped out. Zachary and Jeremy both looked at me with puzzled expressions. Good. It was fortunate that command of both groups happened to rest in my hands. I could move them however I pleased.
Honestly, I had wanted to give Paimon an earful for sending these groups to me without even unifying their chains of command — but circumstances had changed. Thank you, Paimon. Regardless of what you expected from me, you've delivered results beyond imagination.
"Zachary. How much do you know about the current situation in the Kingdom of Bretagne?"
"The Kingdom of Bretagne? Only that Queen Henrietta returned home after being defeated by the Crescent Alliance Army, nothing more..."
His expression made it clear he had no idea why I was asking. That settled it — the Liberation Alliance had blind spots when it came to the Frank civil war.
"Contact the Liberation Alliance's Bretagne branch chief immediately. Have them confirm whether any military forces are moving near the kingdom's borders."
"Your Majesty, I'm afraid I don't quite understand what you're getting at..."
"The Frank Emperor must have requested troop reinforcements from the Queen of Bretagne."
Zachary's eyes went wide.
"What are you saying?!"
"Between a greenhorn who just ascended to the throne and a Dowager Empress who's been governing for decades, it's obvious which side holds the advantage. On top of that, the Dowager Empress has the support of her homeland, the Kingdom of Sardinia, and she's on close terms with the Batavia Republic. If the civil war drags on, the Emperor will have no choice but to bend the knee."
A smile crossed my face.
"The Emperor knows this perfectly well."
"Surely he wouldn't go so far as to borrow foreign armies to fight back..."
But he would.
Reaching out to foreign powers was a shortcut to ruin regardless of the era — but in the eyes of a young Emperor, surrendering a sliver of national interest was a small price to pay if it meant seizing power.
Besides, the Kingdom of Bretagne was the most staunchly anti-republican state on the continent. In the last Crescent Alliance Army war, Queen Henrietta had annihilated her own forces solely out of fear that republicanism would spread. He might well consider her more dependable than a handful of republican-leaning nobles loyal to the Dowager Empress.
Zachary stared at me, his gaze flustered.
"But there's no proof. No — how could Your Majesty possibly know this?"
"Don't worry yourself with how I came to know. The important thing is to verify it through the Bretagne branch, isn't it?"
I smiled.
"Zachary, you are the Liberation Alliance's Frank branch chief. I trust you have some means of contacting the senior members should the need arise."
"......"
Zachary stood and headed off somewhere. Minutes passed. I listened to the sound of owls calling through the night forest, and before long he returned. His expression had grown considerably graver.
"Queen Henrietta has currently left the capital. She has departed on a large-scale hunting expedition with the nobles. Apparently, an Ogre was spotted near the border. It's not often that the royal family and nobles mobilize armies for a grand hunt, but..."
"They do that whenever they want to hide a war behind an excuse."
Zachary swallowed hard.
"...That is correct."
"The Dowager Empress wouldn't have wanted to escalate things into an all-out civil war. Both sides already know that the balance of power favors her."
She would simply mass her armies to threaten her son. The Dowager Empress possessed enormous financial resources, in stark contrast to the Emperor, who had not a single coin to hire mercenaries. The numbers were already overwhelmingly lopsided. The son would be cowed into submission, having no choice but to bow to his mother. That was probably the Dowager Empress's scenario, more or less.
"But what if the Emperor were to bring in Bretagne's forces?"
"The Dowager Empress would... never tolerate foreign interference. Not under any circumstances."
"Ahh. Then a full-scale war would break out."
Zachary gulped down his brandy. His hand was trembling slightly.
"Your Excellency, how do you foresee this war developing?"
"Heh heh. I shall prove that even beneath the filth of a sewer, there lies more filth."
The corners of my mouth curled slightly upward. It wasn't intentional. They rose on their own. The excitement welling up from deep within my viscera had gradually been scorching my heart, and now even my esophagus was burning hot.
"Zachary, think about this calmly for a moment! Use every ounce of your imagination to picture how the Frank landscape might shift. No matter what, the legitimate heir to the empire is the Emperor. Besides, the Dowager Empress is of foreign origin. Swearing loyalty to the Dowager Empress is treason. It is the Emperor to whom loyalty should be sworn."
However, I continued.
"That very Emperor has dragged in a horde of foreign powers. Bretagne has been Frank's old nemesis for ages. Isn't the Emperor the real traitor here? The nobles won't find it easy to pledge loyalty to either side!"
"......"
"In the end, the nobles won't be able to find their footing. This one goes that way, that one goes this way — they'll splinter and scatter, each acting according to their own convictions. With the Habsburg Empire already fallen, yet another empire is now hurtling full speed toward chaos!"
Toward an unimaginably chaotic state, at that.
For example, take the royalist nobles here.
He is loyal to the Emperor. But if he is loyal to the Emperor, he has no choice but to cooperate with the Kingdom of Bretagne. Bretagne won't help the Emperor for free. A significant portion of the Empire's rights would have to be handed over to Bretagne. Loyalty to the Emperor would effectively mean serving the interests of his enemy, Bretagne…
On the other hand, opposing Bretagne is equally agonizing. Fighting against Bretagne's invasion would mean cooperating with the Empress Dowager. Which would put him in the same camp as the republican nobles. He can't do this. He can't do that. It's a complete mess.
"How amusing!"
I laughed.
"That is what power ultimately comes to. Not even the bond between mother and son. National enmity means nothing. No matter how many commoners shed blood in civil wars, it doesn't matter at all—not one bit. Only power matters. As long as you can seize it, it doesn't matter if countless blood-soaked screams of other humans echo across the land!"
How dignified they are. How brutally honest!
You can feel the dignity of the strong right down to the bone. They are saying: I am strong. I have the "right" to willingly sacrifice anyone besides myself. Every time I see people who harbor not the slightest doubt about their own power, I am filled with wonder.
I absolutely want to watch their collapse with my own two eyes!
Just imagining the expressions they'll wear when they are no longer the strong—it sends a thrill through me… When they are struck back by those they designated as the weak, when they are humiliated and debased by the weak, whether they can still wear that same dignified, noble expression as before—I am dying to find out.
Ah. I'm already enjoying this! The smile won't leave my face!
"In the Crescent Alliance Army war, Bretagne only mobilized a few thousand men. The Frank Empire, on the other hand, has already committed tens of thousands. Bretagne may be inferior to Frank in national power, but as it happens, they're evenly matched right now. The push-and-pull battle will just keep dragging on."
And as the war continues, the common people of Frank are being plundered without end.
Imperial troops, royalist troops, mercenaries, deserters, bandits. Nationality and allegiance are irrelevant. Soldiers ravage villages across the country to feed themselves and to satisfy their desires. For the populace that barely survived the Black Death and scraped through a famine, the catastrophe of war descends upon them once more.
They won't be able to endure it much longer.
It is truly the perfect opportunity to spread the plague known as republicanism.
There is no need to explain exactly what republicanism is anywhere. These are the commoners of this era, after all. They're stupid. They won't understand—and the fact that they won't understand is actually ideal. All I have to do is pick out the words their ears want to hear and whisper them.
Freedom! Equality! Rebel against oppression. Reclaim the rights that were rightfully yours.
It's nothing but decoration. The commoners hate the nobility. They respect the nobility's authority, yet they despise it. The nobles seize the farmland they toiled to build and conscript them into war. I just need to fan the flames of that hatred. But hatred requires a little bit of decoration…
You have to make them feel as though they're not rising up because they hate the nobility, but because they're fighting for justice. Freedom! Equality! Rebel against oppression, reclaim the rights that were rightfully yours. These phrases more than suffice to dress up hatred in fine clothing.
I'll make it happen myself.
"Jacquery. What orders did you receive from Paimon?"
"...To join the Empress Dowager and lend as much support as possible to the republican faction."
Ha. Too soft. Paimon, infinitely too soft.
What kind of orders are those? Isn't it far too vague? Lend support to the republican faction? What does that even mean exactly? Does it mean to kill as many royalists as possible, or to wander through the republican villages giving speeches?
As expected, scheming doesn't suit you, Paimon. Scheming is the tool of the weak. God Himself invented stratagems for those who lack the strength to fight fair and square. Having lived nearly two thousand years, Paimon would be unfamiliar with both the impatience and the anxiety of the weak. She was simply never destined to become a schemer.
"From this moment on, I will make the orders concrete."
I was born as the weakest species in the world—human—and became a Demon Lord. Scheming is the kind of thing suited to cowards like me.
"Hear me as Dantalion, the Faceless, ranked seventy-first among the Demon Lords. Jacquery of the Double-Headed Axe. Jeremy of the Red Scar. You, noble Demonkin, shall heed the Demon Lord's command."
One dwarf and one elf sprang to their feet and prostrated themselves before me.
"Our objective is to ignite a civil war within the Frank Empire, and moreover, to escalate it. First, Jacquery."
"Yes! The command!"
"The Frank Empire also has Demon Lord's Castles scattered across its territory. Forge alliances with the Demon Lords there. Have them invade the fiefs of the royalist nobles."
We will answer the Demon Lords' armies from within their territories. The nobles will be made to lose. Meanwhile, we will manipulate events so that our mercenary company wins. Public sentiment toward the nobles will plummet, and our reputation—as a mercenary company aligned with the republican faction—will soar.
"I'll handle persuading the Demon Lords myself. Next, Jeremy."
"As you command."
"We will assassinate the minor nobles belonging to the republican faction."
Jeremy's eyes went wide, and then he smiled.
"I never expected I'd be given assassination duties here as well. But if it is Your Excellency's command, I will follow it without hesitation."
It's difficult to assassinate big fish like counts or viscounts. But we have a squad of twenty elite assassins. A baron or so can be managed. With civil war on the verge of breaking out, a string of assassinations targeting nobles of a specific faction—naturally, suspicion will fall on the royalists, and beyond them, on the Emperor himself.
An Emperor who not only called upon foreign powers to secure his own power but also had his country's nobles assassinated. His reputation would crumble beyond belief. I'm rather curious to see what expression he'll make.
That Night
I sat by the campfire, my pencil never still.
Several thick manuscripts were completed in a single night. They contained the logic and rhetoric I had employed before the speech. I intended to hand these over to the Kunkuska Trading Company for mass printing, then distribute them in every village my party passed through.
'The Habsburg Empire. Then the Frank Empire, I suppose.'
It seemed I had built up bad karma with empires in my past life. Well, I had probably been on the receiving end unilaterally. All I was doing now was simply returning the favor. That way of thinking would be easier on the nobles of the Empire.