"We are so screwed!"
I screamed the words in some random dialect I didn't even recognize anymore.
The outbreak of total war was basically a foregone conclusion at this point, but the fuse hadn't been lit quite yet. I had no idea when the first shot would be fired.
And then, the report on Lepsitol’s short-range warp technology landed on my desk.
I knew it! I knew the Zen God Race was pulling the strings!
Clearly, this wasn't the time for the boys and me to be geeks playing around with breaking stones. I already knew that the value of human life was terrifyingly low in Lepsitol and Parcion, but seriously? Putting an Ace Squad in a machine with a point-one percent failure rate? Are they complete morons?
A citizenry won't swear loyalty to a nation that can't even lie to them with a straight face about respecting them. They really should take a page out of Latarnia’s book: "Even if you’re a corpse, we’re bringing you home!"
I held a meeting with the bigwigs of Lepsitol—or rather, President Karen.
Karen looked like death warmed over. Between the ghoul-tainted food supplies and the various pathogen outbreaks, she hadn't slept a wink. She sat through the meeting with a haggard, bleary-eyed expression.
"I can't do this anymore... I'm resigning as President..."
Even a physical monster like Karen had been pushed to her limit.
"Uh, look, I’ll send you some booze."
"I don't want booze! I want a cake with tons of strawberries on it!"
Ah, she finally snapped. She had regressed entirely into a toddler.
"Okay, okay. I’ll get one from a pastry shop in Latarnia..."
"One without spices!"
So she hated spices, huh? I guess that was just a Latarnian thing. Even for us, the spiced dishes in Chronos were well within the realm of being normally delicious.
"Fine. One of our affiliate shops in Chronos, then. They can add fireworks and a chocolate plate. Want that?"
"...A big chocolate one!"
"Sure. We can put a message on it, too."
"Karen-chan worked so hard!"
"Got it. Should I add the optional marzipan craft?"
"Kitty-cat!"
"Okay, okay. A kitty-cat... and fireworks. I'll add them."
"Add them!"
I ordered the largest strawberry whole cake they had, frozen. All options included, chocolate plate reading 'Karen-chan worked so hard!', and the marzipan kitty-cat. Oh, look at that—it was actually cheaper if I ordered it as a set with an ice cream cake.
"How about an ice cream cake, too?"
"Otay!"
Right. Adding the ice cream cake to the box.
"And the flavor?"
"Chocolate!"
Chocolate it was. Order placed.
"I’ve sent the order, so be a good girl, okay?"
"Otay!"
"By the way, about that sweet alcohol..."
"Please send it immediately."
Cling!
The second the sweets were confirmed, she snapped right back into being a professional adult. How does her brain even work?
"Now, about the warp device," she continued. "Records indicate it was created about twenty years ago by a researcher from the Ancient People."
"And where is this person now?"
"Missing. Well... Lepsitol’s record-keeping is incredibly lax, to say the least."
Oh, Lepsitol... you really do operate solely on cold corporate logic to the bitter end, don't you? I’m going to have to deck someone eventually.
"Then please continue monitoring the movements of the Zen God Race. If possible, try to pinpoint their headquarters."
Apparently, they had tortured the head of some conglomerate, but they hadn't learned a thing. So torture is legal there? I see. I decided to stop thinking about it.
Next, I headed over to see Berger. I asked him to look over the materials Lepsitol had provided regarding the short-range warp.
"Hey there. How’s the progress?"
"Ah, Your Majesty. It seems the developer was one of our own."
"You can tell that just from these papers?"
It looked like a standard research paper, formatted with a typical academic document app.
"Yes. The prose is an exact match for someone I know."
"Meaning?"
"An old schoolmate from my homeland. Look here, there’s a typo. It’s his signature mistake."
Indeed, "of course" had been written as "of coarse."
Wow. You can actually identify someone by something like that?
"Even among the Ancient People, most of our technology has been lost to time. It seems he managed to revive warp travel, albeit imperfectly. As a history specialist, I could never hope to achieve such a feat. A terrifying talent, truly."
I see. In the end, it remained an unresolved mystery and was put on hold.
...Or so I thought.
But as it turned out, the Zen God Race absolutely wanted me dead.
A presence suddenly appeared on the edge of Lepsitol, in a corner where the territories of Lepsitol and Parcion overlapped. It was a massive weapon, designed with the exact same concept as the mobile fortress we were currently building.
Lepsitol and Parcion, both in the middle of desperate economic reconstruction, scrambled what little remained of their fleets. Parcion, in particular, was in a total panic, convinced I had personally come to wipe them out.
Wrong! Mine isn't even finished yet.
The Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the military—especially Isono—were being worked to the bone handling the flood of inquiries. Meanwhile, we were hanging out in the dining hall, watching Chronos National Broadcasting while eating the cake we’d ordered for ourselves.
Our chocolate plate read: 'Leo is an idiot.'
Shiyun and One-oh-one both looked like they wanted the plate, so they split it in half. The marzipan kitty-cat went to Tatiana. Lady Claire had insisted on adding even more strawberries—the high-end brand-name kind grown by Chronosian farmers. They definitely weren't the mass-produced ones you could grow infinitely in a ship’s hydroponic facility.
Since we had a full kilogram of sprinkles, I’d left them out for everyone to help themselves. Tatiana was buried in them. I watched the screen while sipping the tea Ren had prepared.
That said, the newcomer probably wouldn't attack out of the blue. Especially since Parcion was guaranteed to be a financial black hole, no one in their right mind would want to occupy it. For now, the vessel was listed as unidentified.
The first warning was broadcast across the stars.
"This is the border of Lepsitol and Parcion! State your vessel's affiliation and the name of the commanding officer!"
"We are the Rosaria Empire."
Never heard of 'em.
I checked with the other nations and Berger. Lepsitol, Parcion, Latarnia, and the Taikyoku Nation all sent back the same reply: "No idea."
As I sat there tilting my head in confusion, a message arrived from Berger.
"Rosaria is a nation located at the very edge of the galaxy. They have almost no contact with the outside world."
"Even the major powers don't know them?"
"The distance is vast, and there has been no reason for interaction. That region is cluttered with tiny nations; they were just another small name on the map... or so it seemed."
Ah, I see. Like those minor countries that belong to the Battle Dome. We knew them because we did business with them, but a place as far away as the Taikyoku Nation wouldn't have any reason to care. Even Chronosians wouldn't recognize a small nation without a map and a lecture.
"We desire a formal meeting with the King of Chronos."
Right. Sure.
But if they said that to Lepsitol or Parcion, the answer would just be: "We’ll pass the message to Chronos. Please wait for the end of time."
Suddenly, both countries were proving themselves useful as buffer zones. The problem was, if they were being useful, I was obligated to protect them.
That’s the thing about being King. If I didn't return favors within a reasonable timeframe, my credibility would tank. If I were a prime minister or a president with a fixed term, I could just kick the can down the road for the next administration, but a King doesn't have that luxury.
Ugh, fine. No rest for the weary. Time to get to work.