On a moon orbiting Baron Glynn’s planet, my fleet—which had arrived faster than anyone else—was organizing itself. I’d rounded up three hundred thousand ships for this conflict; House Banfield might be more powerful than ever, but I was still putting a lot into this fight. A fleet of mine was positioned at the border with the Autocracy as well, and I couldn’t leave my domain undefended, so it was rather impressive that I’d mustered three hundred thousand ships, if I did say so myself.
I hadn’t just pulled that off thanks to the alchemy box either. That artifact might’ve been able to turn scrap into gold, but there was a limit to what it could accomplish. After all, I couldn’t use it twenty-four hours a day, and even if I entrusted it to someone else to keep it working, the alchemy box had its own limits.
Besides, it was too dangerous to entrust to other hands. Not only could someone have run off with it if I gave it up, but now I had to worry about it being stolen too. I knew now that there were thieves out there who could get past Kukuri’s security, so I didn’t even want to risk Amagi and the other robot maids hanging on to it. I didn’t know what I’d do if one of them was destroyed while trying to protect it.
I couldn’t give it to a human either. I’d never trusted humans in the first place.
Therefore, my only option when it came to creating my fleet was a slow, steady pace. Nothing beat putting in the hours every day. This fleet was the result of my daily effort to build enough military strength that I’d never have to bow down to anyone else. Maybe that wasn’t exactly how an evil lord should do things, but it hadn’t failed me yet.
As soon as we arrived, my operators began attempting to contact House Glynn, but something seemed a bit off.
“For how neglected this planet is, its communications systems are top-notch,” one said.
“We’ve established a link with the fleet,” another reported.
“This’ll make long-range communications nice and easy.”
Baron Glynn’s planet apparently had state-of-the-art communications infrastructure, despite its low overall level of development. I felt that the baron should’ve prioritized developing other things first; still, the communications systems were convenient for us now, so I wasn’t complaining. We could use them long-range, which might mean I could contact Amagi more frequently…although that wasn’t important.
There was a bigger problem than the strange way the baron had prioritized his assets.
“Well, we’re the first ones here…and things really are bad, huh?” I noted.
I could tell that even from space. Only the areas where arcology had been applied were truly habitable. It reminded me of House Razel’s domain, where I’d undergone my noble training. Their situation had stemmed from resource mining, but here, it looked like Baron Glynn had tried to develop the planet, failed, and then just left it as it was. It was a pitiful world, cast aside like a toy a child no longer wanted to play with—that was the impression I got from looking at it.
“This is what happens when you let incompetents run things,” I added. “If he’d just left things to AI, I’m sure they wouldn’t have gotten this bad.”
I’d projected our view of the planet onto the floor of the Argos’s bridge so that I could look down on it from above. It was the perfect example of how any civilization, however advanced, would fail with an idiot in control. I could hardly stand to look at it.
Tia pulled me out of my reverie. She’d overflowed with motivation ever since I appointed her my adjutant for this mission. “It’s as you say, Lord Liam! Idiots who can’t even be called average never run things smoothly. If only everyone would learn from your sterling example!”
I knew that there were things I could and couldn’t do, and when necessary, I relied on others. I’d seen countless people who didn’t take that approach meet tragic ends.
Tia’s compliment had improved my mood, but I couldn’t be too happy, since something was still on my mind: The fact that no one was coming to meet us. “I appreciate the praise, but where’s Baron Glynn’s entourage? It doesn’t seem like he’s prepared a place to receive our fleet either.” I’d come here with three hundred thousand ships in tow, but I didn’t see any facilities for them anywhere.
Marie, whom I’d appointed my second adjutant, scowled. “I’ve contacted Prince Cleo’s Imperial Guard about this multiple times, but the only thing I ever get back from them is ‘Everything’s fine.’ Even after I told them that our advance scouts had seen no sign of a spaceport, they were like a broken record.”
She’d probably assumed that they’d bring a fortress-class ship to serve as our base. If they were so insistent that everything was “fine,” thinking that was only natural. That is, if you assumed competence on their part.
Tia was also furious with Cleo’s new guards. “Because of these Imperial Guard idiots, we won’t even be able to resupply. We should summon the person responsible for this immediately.”
One operator followed through on Tia’s suggestion and connected us with Theodore, who was down on the baron’s planet. “Connection made to Special Lieutenant General Zach. Putting it on the main monitor,” they said, displaying Theodore’s face onscreen for us all to see.
I saw some quite opulent furnishings behind Theodore. It seemed that the baron was treating him very well in his mansion.
“If it isn’t Count Banfield,” Theodore said. “You’re right on time, but I would think that you’d have come a little earlier if you were truly motivated to win this fight.”
Ignoring his snide remark, I made known my frustration with our lack of accommodations. “You don’t even seem ready to receive us yet. I’d say you’re the ones lacking motivation.”
“You were aware from the beginning that the war has worn down Baron Glynn’s domain, weren’t you? We’ll get more allies soon enough. I figured you could prepare your base yourself, considering your ample experience, Count Banfield.”
It was true that I’d done that several times in the past, but if he wanted me to do so again here, he should’ve told me beforehand. If I’d known, I could’ve prepared for that.
Theodore’s childish tactics for harassment made Marie even more furious. “We’re not here to play around, bastard! You want us to prepare a base ourselves without so much as letting us know in advance? Do you even want to win this fight?!”
Theodore remained at ease on the other side of the screen, even as he reacted to Marie’s bloodshot eyes. “I figured you could make that leap in logic yourselves. I guess I was wrong.”
Marie seemed about ready to explode in response to his attitude.
I sighed quietly. “Down, Marie.”
“…My apologies.”
Marie stepped back obediently, but she’d blown her lid awfully quickly this time. Tia seemed to have noticed that, but she kept quiet, apparently not wanting to interrupt Theodore and me.
I turned back to the monitor. “I suppose you have a point, Special Lieutenant General. In that case, I’ll handle things here my way.” I turned around.
Claus, who’d been silent until now, straightened up. “Sir.”
With that short response, he set to work mobilizing ships carrying engineers and other specialized soldiers. We’d start building a makeshift base right away with the supplies we’d brought. The ships headed down to the planet to get to work immediately.
From his position in the mansion, Theodore could see the dispatched ships as well. He looked vexed at the sight. “If you were ready to do this work, you should’ve just done it to begin with! If you’ll excuse me!” The call ended.
Tia clicked her tongue. “How dare he speak to you that way, Lord Liam?! That piece of trash with nothing but an undeserved title backing him up!”
As she fumed, Claus came over to me. “It seems that those construction ships we brought along just in case will come in handy after all, Lord Liam.”
“It’s too little, too late at this point, though.”
The forces that would join us soon would number in the millions. That wasn’t as many as would be involved in a fight between nations, but it was a ludicrous number for a squabble between local lords. The number had ballooned to this degree because both sides were putting their all into the fight.
I gave Claus a look. Seeing how calm he was, even in this miserable situation, I felt the urge to tease him. “It’s pretty awful that we’re putting all these people, resources, and funds into this fight, and all it’ll do is let Baron Glynn add to his territory. What do you think about that, Claus?”
Claus gave a boring response to my goading question. “If this battle will decide the next emperor, then I suppose victory will yield more than one mere planet.”
I projected a hologram of the ruined planet above my hand. I liked doing that, since it made me feel as if a planet was literally in the palm of my hand. This spoiled world resembled nothing more than a lump of stone, though. “Personally, I can’t imagine this place is of much value.”
“I would caution against such statements, Lord Liam.”
Making Claus sweat a little satisfied me. I changed the hologram to Planet Charlot, a beautiful blue globe. Quietly enough that no one could hear, I muttered, “This planet seems a lot more valuable to me than the throne Prince Cleo will sit on.”