“Arad, thanks to you, a burden that has long weighed on me and the Renslets has been eased, if only a little,” Arina said sincerely.
“I merely did what needed to be done, Your Highness,” I replied, bowing slightly.
“Truly… you are a blessing and a savior to me and the North. Thank you, truly… thank you.”
As I was mulling over plans for expanding the business and establishing an academy, Arina suddenly stood and expressed her heartfelt gratitude.
‘?!’
Her words were unusually effusive, even excessive.
Why does Arina feel so familiar all of a sudden?
Yet, oddly enough, her closeness didn’t feel unnatural.
But… is this okay?
The real problem was the people present: bureaucrats, witches, and senior knights.“Hmm…”
Among them, Sun, whom I had only recently met, wore a peculiar expression as he observed my interaction with Arina.
This is dangerous!
My instincts sounded an alarm. In any setting, there are always individuals who might misinterpret or act rashly.
I couldn’t shake the worry that overly loyal individuals might witness this scene and cause problems later.
Quickly, I adopted an overly humble tone, bowing deeply as I spoke.
“Your Highness, a sovereign should not express such gratitude to a mere subject. Please retract your words—”
“But it seems these prosthetic arms and legs require mid-tier magic stones, don’t they?” Arina interrupted before I could finish.
“Well… yes. They’re rather costly to produce, and I can’t craft many on my own,” I admitted, my expression awkward as I straightened up.
“If mid-tier stones can help our injured soldiers and knights, that’s a price we can bear. The real issue is that you can’t produce them all by yourself.”
“Exactly, Your Highness. However, with the witches and skilled workers I plan to hire, we can begin producing prosthetics of similar quality within a month.”
“I heard you’re already recruiting people through Sir Theo and searching for land to build this factory of yours.”
“That’s correct, Your Highness.”
With security concerns largely resolved, the path forward seemed smooth—except for one looming obstacle.
“However, Your Highness, as you mentioned earlier, these prosthetics also require expensive potions and monster byproducts, in addition to mid-tier magic stones. Hiring employees will also incur significant labor costs.”
The obstacle, of course, was money.
After the recent banquet, the High Tower’s budget wouldn’t be in great shape. Add to that the catastrophic mana wave from earlier, and the situation looked even grimmer.
I wasn’t exactly flush with cash myself.
The 70 gold I received with my title had long been exhausted on research, experiments, and production.
This time, I can’t do it for free! I can barely afford to pay the new employees! Besides, I need to start the long-postponed projects soon!
At this rate, I’d rather pay steep taxes than operate as a sanctioned trade group with no tangible benefits. All it offered were downsides.
It wasn’t like the High Tower, strapped for funds, could suddenly lend me money either. Concepts like government bonds didn’t even exist here.
“Your Highness, I must apologize, but would it be possible to receive next year’s 70 gold stipend in advance?”
I asked firmly, determined not to yield on this matter.
Though I had phrased it delicately, Arina would surely understand the implication.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said with unexpected confidence.
“…?”
Her assured demeanor puzzled me.
Does she have a secret source of funds?
Normally so cautious about finances, Arina’s newfound boldness was baffling.
***
In the Ragoit Empire
So, they’ve come again.
It didn’t take long for them to return.
I wondered why they hadn’t shown up sooner.
The thoughts of the ministers gathered in the imperial palace were strikingly similar as they eyed the Northern delegation.
“…”
The crown prince, Canbraman, sitting in the regent’s chair just below the empty imperial throne, also regarded the delegation with barely concealed disdain.
“So, we meet again, envoys of the North,” he said, his tone cold and distinctly unwelcoming.
The North and the Empire, once bound in vassalage, were now estranged to the point of enmity.
On paper, the North was still a vassal state. But they no longer paid tribute or taxes, functioning as an independent domain instead.
Yet to Canbraman, the North was land that must someday be reabsorbed by the Empire.
“Once again, we bring grave news. We apologize for the trouble, Your Highness,” the envoy leader, Gard, began.
“Is that so? A pity. So, what is it this time?” Canbraman asked, feigning ignorance.
“Surely, Your Highness has heard of the recent catastrophic mana disturbance in the North,” Gard continued.
“Ah, yes… quite the close call, wasn’t it?”
Despite Canbraman’s dismissive tone, Gard remained composed.
“We have evidence and testimony linking Astra, the former head of Sigma, to the incident.”
Gard presented a black stone tablet as proof. Though the mana within had been drained, any knowledgeable mage would recognize the intricate spells and inscriptions—hallmarks of the Empire’s Golden Tower.
“This is… most unfortunate. I offer my sincerest regrets. However, this was clearly the act of a rogue individual,” Canbraman replied smoothly.
“Once again?” Gard pressed, his voice tinged with irritation.
“What else can I say? I admit my governance has been less than perfect,” the crown prince said, gesturing subtly toward the empty imperial throne.
“But fear not. Astra’s crimes were indeed severe, and I dealt with him the moment I learned of them,” he added.
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