Our party traveled along the Imperial Road. Thousands of years ago, the ancient empire had laid stone paths across the half of the continent it commanded, and those roads were still serviceable. Thanks to them, we were able to keep up a steady pace even while hauling our wagons.
I was struck by the scenery around us. The Frank Empire corresponded to France in my world. When I thought of France, images of wide-open plains and peaceful countryside naturally sprang to mind. But what we saw as we traveled the Imperial Road was something else entirely.
Woods. And woods that stretched on without end.
Skeletal, barren winter trees blanketed every direction. It looked as though tens of thousands of serpents had frozen stiff in the cold, their bodies curled and twisted in place. Cleared land was visible only in sparse patches here and there. When I climbed a low hill and looked out, the forest stretched all the way to the horizon and beyond.
I had never been particularly moved by natural scenery before. But this time, I was overwhelmed. Nature, left to its own devices, multiplies to a revolting degree.
I clicked my tongue.
"Quite a different landscape from Habsburg."
"It's proof of how powerful the lords are."
Jacques, the mercenary captain, answered.
"The rights to logging and land clearance generally belong to the lords. Depending on how strong the lord is and how weak the villagers are, the size of the forest changes accordingly. When we stop by a village, you'll see a curious sight."
A faint sneer laced Jacques's voice. The dwarf was not one to express himself openly, so it was unusual to see his emotions surface like this.
"Plenty of trees surround them, yet every winter there are always fieffolk who freeze to death because they can't afford firewood. Even the second and third sons who have no farmland to inherit can't cut down the trees to clear new ground. If they secretly carve out hidden farmland, they'll usually have their limbs cut off."
"..."
Jacques snorted.
"Winter is nearly over. It's practically early spring by now. This year too, some will have lived and some will have died. But I doubt any of the dead will have been from the lord's household."
"What you see isn't everything, then."
"Yes. Exactly as you say."
After hearing Jacques's words, the nature blanketing every direction took on a different hue. It was deformed and grotesque. The branches looked exactly like human arms bent backward at unnatural angles.
"Oi, oi."
Zakri, leading the group, slowed their pace. Ahead on the imperial road, a caravan was moving. Zakri squinted at them and spoke.
"That's a merchant caravan. The escort is about ten strong."
"Do you think a clash will happen?"
"If they've all gone mad together, maybe."
We deliberately approached them at a leisurely pace.
The people in the merchant caravan had been in a panic since we first appeared in the distance. Already tense, they had pulled over to the roadside, and some had even run off into the woods. Seeing this, Jeremy spoke.
"They're afraid of us."
"Of course. We're a group of fifty warriors."
Zakri retorted as if the answer were obvious. Jeremy gave a cheerful smile.
"You know something? You are beautifully unlucky."
"Get lost. Hearing a compliment from an elf only dirties my ears."
"How can even the way you speak be so beautiful?"
The two bickered as they drove their horses forward. Behind them, I and the fifty soldiers followed.
Zakri was right. With elite soldiers of this caliber, small lordships could be razed in an instant. For this merchant caravan, it was likely nothing short of a nightmare.
As expected, the caravan had clearly been intimidated by our numbers. An old man, seemingly the caravan's representative, stepped forward to greet us.
"Blessings of Hermes."
Instead of further words, the old man respectfully held up a purse of money. It was, essentially, a toll.
"Hm."
Zakri snatched the purse while remaining mounted. He shook the purse. A clinking sound was heard. It seemed he was checking how many gold coins were inside. After shaking it five or six times, Zakri nodded in satisfaction.
"May the blessings of Hermes be upon you as well."
"Your generosity is appreciated."
The old merchant bowed as low as he could and greeted us.
Zakri spoke.
"Your wisdom is what saved you, nothing more. Is there anything you might wish for?"
"If it is not too much trouble, might I ask where you gentlemen are headed?"
"We are on the road to answer the summons of Her Majesty Empress Dowager de Medici."
The merchant let out a sigh.
"Hah. Is Lutetia Parisiorum truly destined to be drenched in blood?"
"You would do well not to go trading in Lutetia Parisiorum if you can help it."
The merchant sighed deeply again and shook his head.
"I still thought there was time left, so I intended to sell weapons in Paris, but... Heaven does not permit my intentions. No — that was advice worth its weight in gold. Thank you."
"Hm."
Zakri glanced at the merchant convoy's baggage cart. A fine idea had just come to him. His face said as much.
He approached me and whispered in my ear.
"Your Highness. It is a touch early, but would it be all right if we camp here for the day?"
"It sounds like you've thought of something rather clever."
"Yes. Quite clever, in fact."
Zakri nodded solemnly. When it came to street smarts, Zakri — who had roamed the continent as a mercenary captain — was far more knowledgeable than I. I readily agreed.
Zakri walked over to the merchant and spoke.
"If you are amenable, we would be willing to purchase the weapons from you."
The old merchant's eyes went wide.
"Is that true?"
"It is. We'll be joining Her Majesty the Empress Dowager regardless, so the more arms, the better."
"……."
The merchant stroked his beard. He was visibly wrestling with the decision. Zakri let a few seconds pass before speaking in a casual tone.
"There's no need to decide right this moment."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, it's nearly time to make camp anyway. We've collected the toll, so we'll stand watch. Take the night to think it over at your leisure."
"……That is an act of extraordinary generosity. I am truly grateful."
Per Zakri's decision, we settled in to camp alongside the caravan. The old merchant loudly announced that the knights had promised to protect them, and at that, the people who had been hiding in the woods slunk out one by one.
"You wretches! After everything I've done for you! Ungrateful lot!"
The old merchant pulled out a small whip and lashed it across their backs.
"Ow! Please forgive us, sir!"
"We'll never do it again!"
The people shrieked and collapsed to the ground, begging for mercy. It seemed that some of the caravan workers had fled when they spotted the army approaching. No doubt their wages would be slashed to less than half.
Our party paid the scene no mind and set up our encampment. The soldiers assembled the frames with practiced hands. In roughly an hour, every tent was standing — elite troops, no question. According to the mercenaries, a proper military camp normally took three or four hours to erect, but that didn't make this any less impressive.
Late evening.
The senior members of our party gathered around a campfire. We passed around warmed brandy and exchanged conversation. From other campfires scattered nearby, the low murmur of voices drifted over.
Zakri spoke.
"I'd like the chance to explain why I decided to camp here."
"You may speak."
"I am honored. Your Highness, are you aware of the current state of affairs in the Frank Empire?"
I shook my head.
"No. Explain it in detail."
I had a rough idea of what was happening in each country around this time from the *Dungeon Attack* setting guide. However, relying solely on game knowledge made me uneasy. I had advanced the Eighth Crescent Alliance Army by over ten years. I needed to pay careful attention to how the world had changed.
"The Frank Empire is currently split into two factions. The Emperor and the Empress Dowager each lead a powerful faction and are in opposition. The first thing Your Highness must know is that we will be cooperating with the Empress Dowager."
"Is there a reason?"
"The Empress Dowager is sympathetic to republicanism."
Indeed. A sufficient reason.
"The Empress Dowager, Catherine de Medici, was not born in the Frank Empire. She married in from the Ducal House of the Kingdom of Sardinia. The Kingdom of Sardinia, while outwardly a kingdom, has cities with considerable autonomy. Republicanism is not an unfamiliar ideology to the Empress Dowager; rather, it is familiar to her... However, that does not mean she is a member of our Liberation Alliance."
I understood.
This was something I also knew through *Dungeon Attack*. The Empress Dowager had already served as regent for three generations. When the emperors fell ill and died young one after another, she temporarily took control of imperial power. She was quite capable and managed the country well, but...
"The young Emperor is dissatisfied with his mother."
The problem was the extremely poor relationship between mother and son.
"The current Emperor, Henri III, is very young. Unlike his brothers who died early of illness, he is healthy and vigorous. He is eighteen this year."
"He'd want to seize power and rule the country himself."
"Exactly as you say."
The young Emperor of the Frank Empire was at the peak of his life, both physically and mentally. However, national affairs had already revolved around the Empress Dowager for three generations. There were few loyal or influential ministers around the Emperor. His frustration was inevitable.
"There is another problem. The Empress Dowager is tolerant of religion and ideology. Perhaps it was an unavoidable choice for a woman to lead a nation. Thanks to that, despite the Batavia Republic being right next door, the royalist and republican factions in the Frank Empire coexisted quite peacefully."
Coexisted. It was in the past tense. Not the present.
"The Emperor doesn't seem to have taken after his mother."
"No, he hasn't."
Jacques took a sip of brandy and continued.
"Henri III was emperor of the Frank Empire, but before that, he briefly held the throne of Polithunia. As you know, the nobility in Polithunia wield enormous power, so..."
"It's practically an aristocratic republic. I'm aware."
A nation where royal authority was extremely constrained. One could only imagine how grueling life must have been for Henri III — a foreign-born king who could barely make himself understood there.
The nobles were less concerned with loyalty to the king than with protecting their own interests. Even when he wanted to issue a royal decree, he always needed the consent of the noble council. He was a king in name only — a mere figurehead. A young, ambitious king must have found republicanism to be a horrifying ideology...
"When the previous emperor — his brother — died of illness, Henri III practically fled back from Polithunia. To claim the throne of the Frank Empire. But..."
"So republicanism was already openly gaining ground within the Frank Empire as well."
He had the blood of the emperor. That was legitimacy enough. His ability hadn't been proven, but he was young. He was brimming with vigor.
Yet even as king, even as emperor, power never came into his own hands. He was a puppet emperor. Before long, the young emperor grew furious at republicanism and rose up to reclaim his rights from his mother.
"A civil war has already been decided upon."
"Mm."
"The Empress Dowager is a foreigner, and she lost her husband early. Yet she devoted her entire life to the Frank Empire. The empire as it stands today was effectively built and preserved by her. She is deeply furious that her own son is trying to destroy her country."
I laughed. Quite the dysfunctional family.
"In response, the Empress Dowager has mobilized the forces of her landed nobility and mercenary companies. Even now, troops from across the land are converging on the Frank Empire's capital. Your Majesty, we will be one such unit participating in the imperial civil war."