Episode 81: Townsman A Thinks of the Villainess

We successfully made it back to the territorial capital.

Apparently, no one had been watching the sewers. The Duke and his entourage rendezvoused with their standby units without a hitch and pushed straight back to the Ramslett Ducal Territory in one move.

I flew back on the first-generation Vuitol I’d stashed at the airport in the Luluden Northeast Forest. It was a bit of a shock; after getting used to the improved model, the old one felt clunky and difficult to handle.

Seeing the difference firsthand gave me a real sense of satisfaction—my improvements were working. At the same time, it stirred my inner engineer; I wanted to refine it even more. I’m not sure when I’ll find the time, but eventually, I’d like to build a two-seater glider with proper seats like the ones back in my previous life, or maybe even a light aircraft with a bit more capacity.

Anyway, the situation back in the Royal Capital hasn't been looking great since we left. The various lords were divided in their reactions to the King’s recent decree.

First, the southern nobles, rallied firmly around House Ramslett, didn't produce a single defector. They supported the Duke to a man. This was likely the result of very thorough groundwork laid well in advance.

Meanwhile, the lords in the east, who are currently exposed to the threat of the Est Empire, haven’t made their stance clear. However, most seem to lean toward the Duke's side.

There are two reasons for this. The first is food. If the Ramslett Ducal Territory cuts off exports, several of their domains will face immediate starvation. Even with the fertile land of Bruseni now in the Kingdom's hands, it's obvious the Imperial Army is going to keep harassing them. Moreover, since the Kingdom expelled a massive number of the local residents, it will take a considerable amount of time before agricultural production recovers.

I suppose it’s a matter of long-standing grudges, but I honestly don’t get why they kicked the locals out. They could have taken a page out of the Ancient Roman Empire's book on how to manage conquered territories. Not that anyone here would know about Rome, of course; a gargantuan empire like that didn't exist in the history I was taught in this world.

But back to the point. The second reason for the eastern lords’ hesitation is me—the "Ramslett adventurer."

Word has already spread about how I unilaterally bombed and trampled the Est Empire. The soldiers who served on the Bruseni front have felt that power firsthand. While it’s reassuring to have someone like me as an ally, the moment I become an enemy, I turn into a living nightmare.

The math is simple: there’s no way to shoot me down unless I'm taking off or landing. Otherwise, it’s just a never-ending rain of bombs and incendiary shells from the sky. Facing an opponent like that makes "maintaining morale" a joke. In fact, the Est Imperial Army clearly lost its will to fight halfway through the last conflict.

On the other hand, the nobles of the west and north are supporting the Royal Family, calling for Duke Ramslett’s head. However, even they aren't united. The westerners mostly back the King and the Crown Prince, while the northerners favor the Second Prince. They’re publicly condemning House Ramslett while busy stabbing each other in the back.

As for the King himself, he’s shouting for the "traitor" Duke Ramslett to be struck down. But despite his demands, the lords are dragging their feet. Nobody wants to be the first to lose their own soldiers or deplete their personal factions.

It’s the kind of bureaucratic mess I remember reading about in world history. If the enemy is going to get stuck in the mud like this, I’m not complaining.

The Duke, however, showed no such hesitation. He moved ruthlessly.

First, he halted the export of all wheat outside our territory. The official excuse was that looting by the Zaus Kingdom had depleted our stocks, but that was a lie. It was actually planting season, so the damage wasn't nearly as bad as claimed. Plus, we squeezed more in reparations out of the Zaus Kingdom than they actually stole. House Ramslett didn't lose a cent.

As proof, we’re still shipping wheat to allies like Margaret’s Altomunt and Isabella’s Lyuinberg. But for everyone else, the embargo has hit hard. Prices are skyrocketing. In some towns, the cost of bread doubled in a single week.

I feel for the commoners, I really do, but we can’t just roll over and accept the King's tyranny. I’ve had to harden my heart.

Next came the mass exodus of adventurers. Since they live by hunting monsters and clearing labyrinths, they’re naturally mobile. Once wheat prices spiked, they started flocking to cities under the Duke’s protection or places that were self-sufficient. I’ve even heard some are heading straight for the Ramslett territory, smelling a profitable war on the horizon.

Margaret’s territory, Altomunt, is a fan favorite. Adventurers are swarming there for the Orc meat from the Great Orc Labyrinth. I just hope my Master and the others are among them.

So far, everything is moving according to the plan the Duke and I hashed out. We’ve mapped out several scenarios for the future, but there are still plenty of wildcards. We have to keep a close eye on the Est Empire now that they’ve lost two of their big players, not to mention the United Kingdom of Northorne. They haven't made a move yet despite the political upheaval next door. Between that and the worsening food crisis in the non-Ramslett territories, the situation is a powder keg.

After finishing today's work, I went to Ana's room.

Lately, "work" has meant helping the Duke with his administrative tasks. Given the circumstances, the territory is in a state where even a cat's help would be welcome. There is no time to slack off.

"Good evening, Ana. The stars are beautiful tonight."

I called out to her, but she didn't show even a twitch of a reaction. The maids look after her every day, keeping her appearance pristine. She looks ethereal—as beautiful as a masterfully crafted sculpture.

I gently lifted her, shifting her position to prevent bedsores and turning her toward me. Every time I pick up that body, feeling how light and thin she’s become, my chest tightens with a dull ache.

"Hey, Ana? The Duke gave us his blessing. He’s letting us get married. Don't you think it's about time you opened your eyes?"

I know she won't answer.

I sat her up and began massaging her limbs so her joints wouldn’t stiffen, talking to her all the while.

"Oh, that’s right. The day after tomorrow is your birthday. Everyone at the mansion is excited to celebrate it here in the capital for the first time in years. So... please. Just wake up."

Damn it. I promised myself I’d keep smiling when I talked to her, but my voice cracked. If she were to wake up and see me like this, I'd only make her worry.

"Good night, Ana."

I laid her back on the bed, pressed a light kiss to her forehead, and left the room.

Bathed in the moonlight, Ana looked hauntingly beautiful—and so fragile that I was overcome with the terrifying thought that she might simply vanish at any moment.