Two days later, the delegation departed from the capital of Thebes. The main agreements reached included accepting trainees from the Kingdom and establishing embassies in each other’s capitals. The following day, it was announced that Archduke Cyrus would abdicate in six months, and his son, Prince Norton, would succeed him. Cyrus would be given land near Karnak, close to Knightley, where he would retire.
Everything else remained the same, and the civil war was completely covered up. Those involved suffered no serious consequences and were able to go about their lives as usual—except for one thing: more visits between Duchess Alba’s mansion and Shinso’s study. In addition, rumors spread among Twilightland’s nobility that Marquis Vicente Espier had disappeared. At least, no one had seen him since the incident.
Deep underground, in the building where his study was located, Shinso used a biometric authenticator to pass through three doors and enter his destination. He had created the level himself, and neither Duchess Alba nor his butler Drab could enter this place.
Dozens of “boxes” were lined up inside. Each was nearly three meters long, made of metal that emitted a dull glow. Many were empty, but wisps of smoke leaked out of the boxes that weren’t empty, as if they contained dry ice. The vapor made it impossible to discern the contents within.
Thick lines connected these active boxes to a table in the center, and these lines also emitted a faint light. If Ryo saw this, he would tilt his head and mutter, “The light of alchemy?”
On the table lay a single sword. It was less like a Western sword and more like a Japanese katana. Anyone who knew Shinso well would realize that it was his beloved weapon. If anyone who’d been present in the archduke’s parlor were there, they might realize that it was the same weapon he’d used to “annihilate” Marquis Espier.
The surface of the table glowed dimly, as did his beloved sword placed upon it... Both were the light of alchemy. Shinso reviewed the information displayed on the table’s surface, nodded once, and murmured, “Befitting of your rank, Vicente, I should be able to create four of our brethren from your ‘ashes.’”
✦ ✦ ✦
“Ahhh, peace at last.”
The fragrant aroma of Kona coffee filled the carriage, soothing those inside. The deep black liquid, easily mistaken for demonic blood or something, contrasted strikingly with the transparent ice the cup was made of. A truly fantastical sight.
The perfect flavor, a captivating atmosphere, and an entrancing scent... In a dreamy haze, Ryo slowly flipped through the documents in his hand, surrendering himself to the scene. What else could this be called but peace?
Meanwhile, the other half of the carriage was, to put it simply, a battlefield. Abel’s opponent? Mountains of paperwork and homework that’d been assigned by his elder brother. The A-rank adventurer was struggling.
“I would title this painting ‘Elementary School Student on the Last Day of Summer Vacation,’” Ryo remarked, looking at Abel with pity.
“I have no clue what you’re saying, but I know you’re making fun of me,” Abel retorted while continuing to work on his assignments. And then, he groaned. “I hate this! Just when I thought I had finished it all, I found a whole stack left at the bottom of my bag! Damn it, why me?!”
“Perhaps it’s divine punishment for your everyday behavior...”
Abel shot daggers at Ryo before returning to his battle against the documents.
“World peace is so difficult to achieve...” Ryo sighed and brought the coffee cup to his lips.
After a while, Abel’s expression went from furious to frustrated, and his pen moved more and more slowly until, finally, he stopped altogether. Even Ryo was concerned at this point.
“Abel?”
“I’m fine, really. It’s just...” He trailed off, lapsing into thought again.
Ryo peeked at the “homework” in Abel’s hands.
“The fall of the Principality of Inverey... Topical, no?”
“My brother came up with all these exercises. Only practical ones, and the impact of Inverey’s fall on our kingdom is multifaceted.” After a pause, Abel asked him, “Ryo, why do countries fall?”
“You might as well ask, ‘Why do people die?’”
“But countries and people are different, aren’t they?” Abel countered.
“They’re the same. Both have a lifespan, although, in Inverey’s case, it feels more like a victim of sudden illness rather than old age...”
“A sudden illness...”
“Well, normally, a country lasts two or three hundred years.”
“Wait, that short? Really?”
“Yes. At most, five hundred. A great historian who was also a politician and judge once wrote that. To be precise, it should be called the lifespan of a political system rather than the lifespan of a country. In any case, the rise and fall of nations is a difficult topic that requires decades of research and dozens of books to explore, delving into the most profound depths of history. It isn’t something that can be easily explained in a carriage.”
“Oh, yeah? Is that how it works?”
The historian Ryo had in mind was Ibn Khaldun, and the rise and fall of nations referred to Edward Gibbon’s The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. For Ryo, who had taken a leave of absence from his Western history major at university, the rise and fall of nations was a fascinating topic. However, he understood that once he went down a rabbit hole, he would probably get stuck in it. He thought about how much fun it would be to undertake such research if he had had eternal life, like Shinso.
“Yes. Also, I know I used the expression ‘sudden illness,’ but when a small country shares borders with another, massive one, there’s a high probability that the smaller one will be swallowed up. A mathematical biologist even formulated such historical events into an equation.”
“Huh?” Abel didn’t understand at all.
Ryo sighed and gave up on explaining further. “To summarize, it’s already possible to represent the rise and fall of nations with an equation.”
“N-Nah. No way...”
Abel, who might become king someday, didn’t want to believe that. A country’s destruction reduced to an equation... If that were true, what meaning did its people, who diligently went about their lives each and every day, have? What was the purpose of ministers, officials, and civil servants who worked selflessly for the country?
“Of course, it isn’t absolute. And personally, I think that if a country experiences a large-scale civil war or external conflict, or another situation where its own territory becomes a battlefield, everything resets. I really don’t think you need to worry too much about it.”
“Then...are you saying that nations that have existed for a certain period of time should experience some sort of war just to get a fresh start?”
“No. After any conflict, neighboring countries will naturally interfere. So the survival of the country itself isn’t guaranteed... The best option is peace.” He paused for a moment. “Abel, a ruler’s duty hasn’t changed since ancient times.”
“What do you mean?”
“To make their people happy.”
“That’s too broad...” Abel replied with a frown.
“No, it isn’t. By doing just one thing, a ruler can make their people happy, which will nip many of the problems a country faces in the bud before they even arise.” Ryo nodded emphatically.
“Just one thing?”
“Yes. And that thing is improving the country’s economy. I don’t just mean statistically either. What’s important is for people to feel that the economy is good. The word ‘economy’ itself originally means... Actually, let’s not get into that for now. If the economy improves, crime rates stay low. If people feel the economy is good, there won’t be any rebellions. Furthermore, the marriage rate and birth rate will also rise, increasing the population without immigration policies. People will also become more motivated to work. If they can envision a hopeful future, their desire to purchase things, including houses, will increase, further fueling sales of all kinds of goods. That, in turn, will improve the economy even more.” Ryo paused to take another sip of coffee. “Abel, making the people feel confident in the economy is precisely what great rulers throughout history have always focused on.”