Magic Caster of Destroy

Panasolei’s predictions were on the optimistic side, and they still painted a dire picture of things.

As for the King, his face was a blank mask.

“How did it get like this…”

“If… if the Empire continues its yearly attacks, the chances of civil war will be quite high. Given the state of taxes now, a lot of people will end up starving to death, and if we reduce taxes, we won’t have enough to fund our policies.”

Ranpossa III placed his hands on his forehead, covering his face.

This was the result of responding to years of saber-rattling with the Empire. By the time they realized the Empire’s aim, it was far too late ― the Kingdom was already in decline.

“Your Majesty…”

“How… disturbing. If we’d known earlier… if we’d dealt with this before the nobles had fully split into their factions… how foolish.”

“Certainly not, your Majesty. It might have been that while dealing with the factional split, the Empire might have taken the chance to invade and conquer us.”

Gazef was certain of this ― the King, Ranpossa III, had done a good job.

The conditions that had led to this situation were the result of the previous kings’ poor decisions. It was impossible for one generation to erase the accumulated sins of all its ancestors.

“I just want to leave a decent Kingdom to the next ― to my children.”

Although the King spoke slowly, every word was laced with powerful purpose.

“Then… is this not an opportune time? I have many supporters now due to the disturbance. Should we not strike a telling blow to the Empire, no matter the cost, so we can win a few years of peace for the Kingdom?”

Gazef could see a light in the King’s eyes. That light made him worry. By rights, he should have opposed this, but he could not make a sound.

If the King had spoken to advance his own desires and ambitions, perhaps he might have been able to bring himself to chide him. But as he realised the King was speaking of ensuring the safety of his people and country, the words caught in his throat.

As a first-hand witness to the King agonizing over his country, the Warrior-Captain could not speak out against him.

“While that is certainly possible, I trust you’re also aware that this is a very dangerous move. If you act to reduce the power of the nobility, the country may fall into chaos.”

The King knotted his brows, and Gazef’s heart ached.

“Panasolei, as usual, you’ve hit the nail on the head. Although one might die during surgery, there’s also a chance that one might live. Regardless of what we do, the disease will spread through the body and slowly kill us. In that case, shouldn’t we step forward and seize the day?”

“My King, surgical operations are not reliable. It would be better to find another solution instead.”

“If there were some magic solution to save the Kingdom, everyone would go for it. But the barbaric method of cutting open the body to remove the diseased portion is the only cure for our present predicament.”

This frightening and crude procedure, advocated by the Minotaur Sage, was the only remedy for the Kingdom.

A gloomy silence dominated the room, which had seen a king forced to extreme measures to save his country.

Then, just as it seemed this oppressive atmosphere would last forever, a knock rang out from the door, as though to shatter the despondence in the air.

The man who entered without waiting for a response was Marquis Raeven.

“Gentlemen. I apologise for the delay.”

Relief spread through the room.

“Ah, just the man we were looking for. Marquis Raeven, I put a great burden on you.”

A look of confusion appeared on Raeven’s face for a moment as he was caught off guard, but he immediately reacted by replacing it with a tired expression.

“No, don’t take it to heart, your Majesty. In truth, entrusting command to Marquis Bowlrob would have been foolish in the extreme. After all, he only knows how to order charges and retreats.”

It was unclear whether Raeven sincerely meant his harsh criticism. Perhaps he might have said so on purpose to lighten the mood when he sensed the gloominess in the room.

“In addition, if your Majesty was to assume direct control of the army, a misstep might result in the Noble faction retreating on the eve of battle. As such, there is no commander better suited to the role than myself. That being said, working so long without rest has taken its toll on me. I wish to announce in advance that after this war is concluded, I would like to rest on my own lands for several months.”

With that, Raeven’s expression suddenly turned severe.

“I apologize for my curtness, but we can’t waste time here, so let’s get this over quickly.”

Although his face remained as cold as that of a snake’s, Gazef could sense human emotions within him, as well as qualities that he could bring himself to admire.

I was a fool to not have seen his true nature beforehand. Am I really so bad at reading people?