A month had passed.
Winter was coming to an end, and spring was on its way.
--- During that month, I'd thrown myself into discussions with
First, there was the matter of gathering allies.
I settled on three directions for this.
The first was establishing an intelligence and support organization focused primarily on information gathering.
I'd use the Ruud Mercenary Corps, which
With Orsted providing full covert support, I'd expand the organization on a global scale.
The various branches would coordinate with one another, funneling intelligence from every nation back to headquarters.
Even without going to HQ, anyone who visited a branch would be able to learn in detail what was happening in the surrounding area.
This was less about supporting Orsted directly and more about bolstering my own activities.
The second direction was powerful individuals.
Or, rather, people who would come to hold power in the future.
Laplace was prophesied to start a war upon his resurrection.
Logically, that war would involve the human nations.
Those who knew it was coming in advance and those who didn't would obviously have very different levels of preparedness.
So, I'd warn the powerful in advance, raise awareness, offer them modest support, and encourage them to begin moving—even if slowly—for the sake of eighty years from now.
Whether these nations cooperated during the war with Laplace would also affect how freely the Ruud Mercenary Corps could operate.
The third direction was a fighting force—warriors.
This was, I suppose, the most directly relevant to Orsted.
I would recruit allies capable of fighting Laplace in Orsted's stead.
They would battle Laplace on Orsted's behalf.
If the curse was lifted and they could fight alongside Orsted, it would be even better to have them follow through to the final battle against the
As for who exactly—Orsted and I had consulted on that together.
The conclusion was: "People who were originally fated to fight Laplace and are unlikely to become the Man-God's apostles."
That meant figures like the Ogre God and the Ore God—people with no direct involvement in this generation, but who would eventually oppose Laplace.
The Water God style and Sword God style practitioners of this era weren't directly connected either, but their successors would end up in conflict with Laplace.
I also intended to reach out to long-lived individuals such as North God Kalman III and Death God Randolph.
Some of them harbored personal grudges against Laplace.
For anyone whose whereabouts were unknown, I'd use the Ruud Mercenary Corps to track them down, then go in person and perform prostration diplomacy.
Depending on the situation, I might even have to make myself indebted to them.
In short, I'd be recruiting every strong-looking person I could find, one after another.
Now, there was an obstacle standing in the way of all this.
The Man-God.
Knowing him, he'd definitely use his apostles to interfere.
The thing about the Man-God's apostles was that, in principle, it was impossible to know who would become one.
According to Orsted, some people were more likely than others.
But in this particular loop, even unlikely candidates were becoming apostles, making it hard to distinguish.
As I moved forward with my activities, there was a real possibility that someone Orsted hadn't anticipated would turn apostle.
As for countermeasures... honestly, I couldn't think of any.
So I decided not to dwell on it.
First of all, I didn't even know what criteria the Man-God used to select his apostles.
Orsted had said he tended to choose people with strong destinies.
But currently, people with weak destinies were also becoming apostles.
I didn't really understand the standard for measuring the strength of one's destiny in the first place.
It seemed like the kind of rule only the Man-God and Orsted knew about.
Following such a rule and constantly seeking Orsted's approval for each decision would only pile up unnecessary stress. It felt pointless to even think about.
For a game beginner, there was a beginner's way of playing.
As a baseline, I'd establish a motto for anyone I recruited: "Don't trust dreams or prophetic messages."
But even so, there would be apostles.
When someone seemed suspicious, I'd verify whether they were an apostle, and deal with them accordingly.
It was a grim role, but I intended to handle it myself as much as possible.
If I removed the emotional burden from the equation, everything else simply came down to increasing our numbers.
After all, the Man-God could only have three apostles at a time.
The more we added to our side, the better our position.
For example, if we only had five people and one turned traitor, we'd lose twenty percent of our fighting strength.
Meanwhile, the enemy's numbers would also grow, and the situation would become dire.
But if we had ten? Or twenty?
A hundred? A thousand?
One or two traitors wouldn't make a dent.
If the Man-God managed to control my head and turn all a thousand of us into enemies, that would be a problem—but since I was the one in charge of everyone's heads, it should be fine.
I was a little worried about what would happen after I died, but there were plenty of people more capable than me.
There would be someone worthy of taking over.
After all, I had
In addition to gathering allies, there were plenty of other things to do and resources to secure.
One was establishing a reliable means of communication with Orsted.
In the last fight, insufficient communication had gotten Pax killed.
Of course, there were probably many factors beyond just the lack of communication.
But... if I'd had a close line of communication with Orsted, it could have been avoided.
I wasn't planning to rely entirely on Orsted.
But from now on, I'd be operating separately from him more often than before.
In that case, a communication method was essential.
In critical moments, it was often better to consult someone before acting than to make decisions entirely on your own.
If I knew Orsted was in trouble, I could rush to his aid.
Though admittedly, I couldn't imagine a scenario where I'd be the one helping Orsted.
Regardless, a portable communication device was necessary.
It didn't have to be a phone—as long as I could send information to the other party unilaterally, that would work.
With that in mind, I brought it up with Orsted.
I explained the concept of a phone and asked whether something similar existed, or whether one could be built.
"Some kind of magical tool that delivers voices or text?"
"Text would be fine, but ideally I'd like to be able to exchange information even from far away. When I'm stuck on a decision, I'd want to consult with you. Is that impossible?"
I'd assumed it would be a no.
The world wasn't that convenient.
But to my surprise, Orsted's answer was positive.
"There is something similar among the Dragon Race's magical tools. If I reproduced it, it would likely be possible."
"Huh, something like that actually exists?"
"You should have seen one before, actually."
Seriously? Where was that?
If something like that existed, it would be incredibly useful. I'd want one too.
"The stone monuments of the Seven Great Powers, and the cards from the Adventurers' Guild."
"Oh!"
Now that he mentioned it...
The Adventurers' Guild cards did have voice input, and the stone monuments of the Seven Great Powers were scattered across the world with identical inscriptions.
Hmm.
So the Adventurers' Guild cards were made by the Dragon Race?
Come to think of it, they did feel like some kind of over-technology...
"It would need some modifications, but let's try making one."
"Wait—Lord Orsted, you're going to make it yourself?"
"Your appearance has thrown all my plans into chaos anyway. If it's necessary, I might as well have it ready... it could prove useful in the next loop too."
And so, Orsted agreed to personally craft the device for me.
That was a welcome surprise.
The fact that Orsted was still considering bringing me into his fold for the next loop was genuinely encouraging.
"There's a chance I won't be able to make it. Keep that in mind."
"Yes sir, boss!"
Right. Communication device: settled.
One more thing.
Based on the previous loop's failure, there was something else I needed to prepare.
A method of transporting the Magic Armor.
Last time, the Magic Armor "Type-1" I'd managed to obtain could only be used for movement.
Transporting it from the city to the fortress had been a huge hassle.
I couldn't bring it inside the castle either, and in the end, I couldn't use it in the fight against Death God Randolph.
I doubted I'd be fighting anyone at Randolph's level anytime soon.
But there were still plenty of opponents I couldn't handle alone, even with the "Type-2 Modified."
I wanted to have something in place.
Naturally, I was also working on developing a compact, high-performance "Type-3."
But the "Type-3" was still a long way off from completion.
That was when an idea struck me.
What if I simply summoned the "Type-1" as it was?
According to the lessons Silvaril had once given me, material summoning wasn't possible...
But somehow, with a bit more creative thinking, it felt like material summoning could work.
I intended to experiment with this on my own.
If it didn't work, so be it.
--- Right. The direction for gathering allies was set.
First, I'd expand the Ruud Mercenary Corps while forging connections with the powerful figures of each nation, drawing them in as allies.
For starters, I should focus on recruiting the leaders of each country.
The relative of the Millis Church's Pope, and the next king of the Kingdom of
They were already half-allies—I'd now formally bring them into Orsted's camp.
Which one first?
Cliff, naturally, since he was nearby.
Bringing Cliff on board would give us a connection to the Millis Church.
The Holy Kingdom of Millis was a major power.
In the war against Laplace, they would be an extremely valuable fighting force.
War was about money and numbers, after all.
Having ties in place for when the time came couldn't hurt.
Plus, Cliff was, in his own way, practically my best friend.
He'd been cooperative regarding Orsted's curse, so something as simple as getting his verbal agreement would probably suffice.
I expected an enthusiastic yes.
With that in mind, I headed to the apartment where Cliff lived. Unfortunately, it was the usual situation.
That place had paper-thin walls.
What's this "You mustn't, Cliff! Clive is watching!"?
Then just do it when Clive is asleep, for crying out loud...
Anyway, I left a note saying "Coming by this evening" and headed to Zanoba's place.
--- Zanoba, no longer a prince.
He had sold off his royal belongings to raise funds, then set up residence near my home.
It was a modest, two-story house.
The first floor was designed with doll-making in mind—it was mostly empty, like a garage.
The living quarters were mainly on the second floor.
He lived there with Ginger and
It was plenty of space for three people.
I had no idea how the relationship between these three would develop...
Would they get married or something?
Anyway, for the time being, he still had his savings from his days as royalty, so he was fine.
But since those funds would only decrease going forward, I'd decided to pay him for the Magic Armor construction.
Research and development expenses.
Zanoba accepted the payment, though he didn't look entirely happy about it.
"I didn't make it by myself alone, so receiving money just for myself feels rather improper," he said, his brow furrowed into an inverted V.
I understood what he meant.
The Magic Armor had been a joint effort between me, Zanoba, and Cliff.
For Zanoba alone to collect the development fees—it didn't sit right.
But if we were going down that road, the one who'd been the least fair all along was me.
I'd been wearing the Magic Armor to do jobs and collecting pay.
Which meant, up until now, I'd been the only one earning money from it.
And we'd built it together.
The Magic Armor hadn't been created with profit in mind.
But that said, humans were creatures who would kill each other for money.
If we were going to be fair about it, Cliff should be compensated too.
Of course, Cliff wasn't exactly strapped for cash, so whether he'd accept was uncertain.
Well, whatever.
At the very least, if anyone asked for money, I had enough to pay.
None of my acquaintances were the type to gouge me with outrageous sums.
And if someone was genuinely in need, I had the means to help.
When you had financial security, you really could afford to be kind.
Well, the Magic Armor was something I needed, and Zanoba's doll-making skills were something I needed.
Paying for what you need was only natural.
So, all things considered, Zanoba was living a stable life.
I stood in front of his house and took a deep breath.
He'd told me I was free to come and go even when he wasn't home.
But when entering, you knocked properly.
That was the etiquette between close friends.
"Zanoba! It's me! Open up!"
I rang the doorbell and called out.
"Oh, Master! Come right in, the door is open!"
The response was immediate.
But I was being careful. Last time I hadn't been careful enough, and it had nearly been a disaster.
"I'm really coming in, okay? You sure? I'm really going to open the door now? Stop me while you can! Once I start moving, I won't stop!"
"Honestly, I have no idea what you're referring to, but I won't stop you. Please, come in."
"For real? There's not, like, a woman changing clothes on your side or anything?"
"Absolutely not."
I believed him.
I believed in Zanoba.
Even if the world turned upside down, I'd believe in Zanoba.
"Then, pardon the intrusion."
I opened the door and stepped inside. It was Zanoba's workshop.
Two workbenches occupied the wide space, and wooden boxes and dolls were scattered everywhere.
Zanoba was seated at one of the benches.
Julie was with him.
If I'd just said that much, it would've been a normal scene—but today, the atmosphere was different.
Specifically, it was the issue of where Julie was sitting.
Normally, Julie sat at a separate desk, a little distance from Zanoba, working on dolls.
But today, she wasn't at that desk.
"..."
Julie was sitting on Zanoba's lap.
She was perched on Zanoba's knees, carefully painting a doll with a focused expression.
Zanoba, meanwhile, was carefully carving a Magic Armor component directly above her.
Wood shavings were dropping onto Julie's head, but she didn't seem to mind at all.
"Zanoba... you and Julie have gotten pretty close since I last looked away, huh?"
"Hmm, is that a problem?"
Julie's short stature combined with Zanoba's tall frame made them look almost like siblings.
Well, it was fine. Sitting on his lap and making dolls together...
No cause for suspicion.
Though technically, even if they were doing something, it wouldn't be a problem.
There were no age-of-consent laws in this world, and no one would raise an issue.
Still, you know...
I'd gone to the trouble of being careful, and I'd wished they'd at least be sitting apart.
"Well, it's endearing," I said.
Saying that, I dragged a chair from the corner of the workshop over and sat down.
"So, Master, what brings you here today?"
"Well..."
Of course, I hadn't come just to chat.
I'd been commissioning Zanoba to build the Magic Armor, but alongside that, I had another job for him.
"Actually, Zanoba, today I've come to deliver a letter of appointment."
"A... letter of appointment?"
"That's right."
As I spoke, I pulled a single piece of paper from my coat.
I held it out to Zanoba with both hands, presenting it formally.
"Oh, pardon me."
Zanoba hurriedly set Julie down, quickly brushed the shavings off his chest, and received the document with a bow.
A man of proper manners.
"Let's see... 'Hereby appointing Zanoba Shirone as the sales manager of the Ruijerd Doll line.' Yes, I see."
"Mm, accept it with the utmost gravity."
"I am honored to accept... but wasn't that plan postponed?"
This letter of appointment essentially meant the launch of the Ruijerd Doll sales plan that had long been in the works.
You might wonder why now, of this timing.
But now was exactly when it had to happen.
Here's why.
I would be recruiting powerful figures from various nations, while simultaneously gathering allies with an eye toward the war against Laplace.
However, several of the people I needed to contact had unknown whereabouts.
Ruijerd, for example.
In the original history, he would have been on the Demon Continent.
But in this loop, he'd moved to the Central Continent alongside me.
Lately, I'd heard nothing from him. His location was a mystery.
He was the kind of person I doubted would come to any real harm, but I couldn't exactly go meet him and request his cooperation right now.
Well, he wasn't exactly hiding either.
Maybe I'd run into him somewhere while searching.
But still, he was the first person I wanted to reach out to with "Laplace must be defeated—please help me."
There was no hiding it: it was him.
I had to find Ruijerd no matter what and ask him personally.
I wanted to give him the chance to avenge his grudge against Laplace...
That was half the official reasoning.
The other half—the real reason—was simply that I wanted to see Ruijerd again after so long.
I wanted to meet him and walk toward the same goal together once more.
It was a mostly selfish motivation, but the plan was to launch the Ruijerd Doll sales along those lines.
There was also the notion that this would be a faster way to find him than searching directly.
And improving the image of the Superd tribe had been part of the plan all along...
I did have other official justifications prepared.
For instance, regarding the Magic Armor.
It was true that the three of us—me, Zanoba, and Cliff—had hit a wall in developing the Magic Armor.
At this rate, there was a chance the "Type-3" would never be completed.
So, I'd launch a large-scale doll sales operation.
By growing the business commercially while recruiting and training technicians, we'd increase the number of specialists who understood Zanoba's and Cliff's technology.
If each of them experimented freely, the chances of some breakthrough idea emerging would rise.
In any world, training technicians was essential.
"—and that's the gist of it."
I explained all of this to Zanoba in detail.
"It's partly what I want to do, but Magic Armor and doll-making are fields I want to keep developing going forward. You understand them better than anyone, and that's why I want you as the person in charge."
"Hmm..."
"For support, I'll assign a member of the Ruud Mercenary Corps we've been eyeing for a while. Of course, for setting up the first shop, Aisha and I will help out as well... Will you do it?"
"Absolutely. Leave it to me."
Zanoba agreed without hesitation and dropped to one knee.
Julie, who'd been watching from the side, also hurriedly knelt.
"Grand Master! What should I do?"
"Julie, stick with Zanoba and follow his instructions."
"Yes!"
Julie would also be working hard.
She'd be entering mass production of the initial batch of Ruijerd Dolls.
"Tell her she'll be earning money for Zanoba."
Hearing that, she'd surely be motivated.
"Well, we can go over the details another time. That's all for today."
"Understood."
For now, the plan had taken its first step forward.
--- By evening, I'd arrived at Cliff's love nest.
The afternoon tryst appeared to have already ended—the apartment was silent in the midday stillness.
Seriously, if they did that every day, the neighbors couldn't possibly be at peace...
Although, I guess they usually did it at the lab at school, so maybe it was only in the evenings.
"Hey,
When I knocked, a haggard-looking Cliff answered the door.
He'd seemed healthy enough from his wife's pregnancy through to Clive's birth, but lately he always looked pale.
I was getting worried about Cliff's kidneys.
"Oh my, Rudeus, what a rare visit."
Elinalise, for her part, was glowing.
She was nursing the baby with a satisfied look on her face.
Topless, wearing nothing but underwear on the bottom.
She'd taken a break and might resume after eating.
"Yes, I just had some business to take care of."
Still, seeing a beautiful blonde noblewoman breastfeeding while half-naked was surprisingly picturesque.
The long-eared race were generally slender and graceful.
Her usual flirtatiousness contrasted with her current maternal demeanor.
Was that a gap too? I'd felt something similar when seeing
Lately, even
The same Eris who held a baby and let it nurse without raising her voice or punching the tiny creature.
A woman becoming a mother and breastfeeding—it really was something mystical.
"Rudeus, could you please stop staring?"
"Huh? Oh, sorry."
I'd gotten lost in thought and Cliff had noticed.
My bad, my bad.
I wasn't looking with any lewd intent.
"Elinalise, there's a guest here. At least put some clothes on."
"Oh my, Cliff... are you jealous?"
"He is. Rudeus might be like family to you, but still..."
"Very well."
Elinalise shrugged, then retreated into the back room with the baby still in her arms.
"Rudeus, you have three wives of your own. Could you not make eyes at someone else's?"
"Eyes? I wasn't—"
I wanted to argue that I wasn't, but I had been looking.
I'd hate it if someone looked at Sylphie and the others like that.
Better apologize.
"No, you're right. I'm sorry. I'll be more careful next time."
"Sigh..."
Cliff let out a heavy sigh and sank into the sofa.
He was probably tired, but he also seemed to be in a foul mood.
Was there some problem with his married life?
"So, what brings you here today?"
"Oh, well... it's more of a request, or maybe a recruitment pitch..."
Cliff was looking at me with gloomy eyes.
This was going to be tough to bring up.
Maybe I should come back another time.
No, before leaving, I should at least hear him out.
"...Is something wrong?"
"Nothing really..."
Cliff started to say something, then shook his head.
"No, actually, this is perfect—I was going to have to tell you eventually anyway..."
An ominous lead-in.
It reminded me of Zanoba's situation.
"It's from my grandfather in the Holy Kingdom of Millis. A letter arrived."
Another identical pattern.
If this was like last time, it was a trap to lure Cliff away.
Another war? Another ploy by the Man-God?
Well, regardless, I'd been planning to ask Cliff to serve as our bridge to the Holy Kingdom of Millis anyway.
He seemed willing himself.
This time, I wouldn't pull any naive stunts about taking him back by force.
Of course, I wanted him to stay in Sharia, but I was focused on the mission.
Cliff stood up and pulled a letter from the shelf.
Another déjà vu moment.
The letter probably contained: How much money Grandfather had invested in Cliff's education.
Why he'd invested it.
Because he wanted Cliff to become a pillar of their faction.
When would he need Cliff's support?
How about right now!
Something along those lines.
I braced myself.
"Oh, it's not that serious of a problem."
Cliff scratched his cheek sheepishly.
He looked uncomfortable.
"We'd been talking about me returning after graduation for a while now. So it's just about travel funds and safety along the way."
I read through it.
It started with words of concern for Cliff's health.
Then, instructions to show the Millis Church official's insignia he'd enclosed if funds ran low.
A stern note: the war was going badly, so if Cliff wanted to come back, he needed to steel himself; if he couldn't, he didn't have to return.
And finally, despite the harsh words, a warm closing: he missed Cliff's face and was looking forward to his return.
Overall, it was a caring letter from someone who genuinely worried about his grandson.
I'd never met Cliff's grandfather, but he seemed like a good person.
Where was the problem?
"The truth is... I've been wavering."
Wavering—he meant about steeling himself?
"I'd been planning to return to Millis the moment I graduated.
I'd trained for it, and up until now, I'd always been dead set on it.
I was confident I could survive the political machinations of the Millis Church and come out on top."
"Yeah, you always said that."
Cliff had always maintained that after graduating from this school, he'd return to the Holy Kingdom of Millis and take up his grandfather's legacy.
Though lately, he'd come to understand that becoming the Pope's successor wouldn't be easy and had been quietly training as a priest instead.
"But..."
Cliff slumped onto the sofa, holding his head.
"I'm married now, and I have a child."
That alone was enough for me to understand his dilemma.
It was the same kind of thing I always agonized over.
"The Millis Church casually targets the weak... the families of their enemies."
"..."
"Elinalise is fine—she has the means to protect herself.
But Clive... he can't even stand on his own two feet yet.
I... don't have the confidence to protect them completely."
I understood that feeling.
For the people you loved, you always wanted them somewhere safe.
"Besides, I still haven't even told Grandfather that I got married.
If word got out that the Pope's grandson married a long-eared woman, it could spark some ugly scandal.
That scandal could drag him down and cost him his position."
The Millis Church was notorious for pressuring other races.
The long-eared race came from the Great Forest, so they weren't as heavily discriminated against...
But there were factions that would persecute anyone who wasn't human.
Elinalise, apparently, didn't hold a particularly respected position even among the long-eared race.
"I kept going back and forth about all of this, whether I should go back or not, and ended up leaning on Elinalise... lately it's been the same cycle over and over... I finally understand how Zanoba must have felt, being so stubborn..."
Cliff himself probably wanted to go back—felt he had to.
But his wife and child would be put in danger.
On top of that, his grandfather could end up in trouble because of his wife.
In a situation like that, was it okay for him to pursue his own path?
I couldn't blame him for struggling.
Even I couldn't say for sure.
But this was actually why I'd come today.
Because now, I could offer him a lifeline.
"Cliff."
"...What is it?"
"How would you feel about officially entering Lord Orsted's service?"
Cliff looked at me with a blank expression.
Maybe I'd phrased it poorly.
But I didn't want to say "join me as an ally" and cause a misunderstanding.
Better to be direct.
"What do you mean?"
"If you became one of Lord Orsted's subordinates, I could fully back you up alongside him.
We could protect Elinalise and Clive, and ensure that your faction comes out on top."
Cliff furrowed his brow.
"If I accept this... backing... what would I be expected to do?"
"Mainly, to prepare for Laplace's resurrection."
And with that, I laid out my plan.
The eighty-year strategy centered around Orsted.
I'd told Cliff about the Man-God before, but this time I explained everything from the beginning.
When I'd finished, Cliff wore a troubled expression.
"What do you think?"
When I asked, Cliff was silent for a long time.
He crossed his arms, closed his eyes, and groaned in anguish.
"Hmm..."
It shouldn't have been a bad deal.
Cliff also knew that the revulsion surrounding Orsted was caused by the curse.
He probably didn't know the real Orsted underneath—but still.
I wouldn't betray Cliff.
The thought that he might suspect me hurt.
"Could you... give me a little more time?"
After much deliberation, Cliff managed to squeeze out those words.
"Graduation is coming up soon. I'll decide by then."
He'd set his own deadline, and I had no choice but to nod.
Part of me wondered why he couldn't just agree right away.
But maybe Cliff himself didn't fully understand why he was wavering.
"If you want, why not discuss it with Elinalise too? There's no need to wrestle with it alone."
"Huh? Yeah... you're right. Thanks."
This time, Cliff nodded genuinely, and a faint smile crossed his face.
Elinalise had probably been listening to our conversation.
A lock of golden hair had been peeking through the door gap this whole time.
She could guide Cliff in the right direction.
The outcome might not go exactly as I planned...
But if that's how it turned out, that was fine too.
"Well, I'll come again."
"Yeah. Sorry about all this."
"Don't be. When you're struggling or hurting, we're in the same boat."
With that, I left Cliff's room.
I made sure to catch Elinalise's eye before going.
For now, I'd hear Cliff's answer at the graduation ceremony.
About two months until then.
In the meantime, I'd push forward with getting Zanoba's Ruijerd Doll shop up and running.