Prologue: The Principality, the Secret Letter, and the Coming Storm

On the continent of Grandinal, which was unified long ago at the hands of the hero Ferris, there now existed a multitude of countries. Of particular note were the four largest countries on the continent, each located in one of the four cardinal directions.

To the south was the Lustian Confederation, a union of smaller nations inhabited by beastmen and demihumans.

To the east was the military nation of Felvolk. Valuing aggression and meritocracy, it had a history of invading its neighbors and expanding its borders with military force.

To the west lay the Atrad Empire, an autocratic power led by an emperor, and the second oldest country on the continent. The empire had long been plagued by internal conflict, as different factions of nobles attempted to seize power for themselves—but some years earlier the old emperor had passed away, and the new, younger emperor had demonstrated his political prowess by suppressing all dissent.

Finally, there was the northern kingdom of Gracis, the largest and most ancient country on the continent, which possessed a military strength befitting its size. However, in recent years it had started to see its reputation take a turn for the worse. Having grown complacent from a long period of peace, the kingdom had begun to rot from the inside. Between the tyrannical nobility, corrupt officials, and a king powerless to stop either, the people were suffering. What had once been the most prosperous kingdom on the continent was at risk of being dethroned, mocked by its neighboring countries as “The Kingdom in Woe.”

In a room located in the royal castle of the capital, four people were gathered. The room was completely blocked off from the outside, and a magical barrier further protected the room so as to ensure that no information could be leaked. Shining through a window, the setting sun lit up the faces of a butler, a knight, and a Spellcaster, along with their master. The butler was furrowing his brow, while the knight repeatedly clasped and released the hilt of the sword hanging from his waist with a worried expression. The Spellcaster was sitting on a sofa, his face seemingly impassive, although those close to him would have said that he looked stern.

The Spellcaster was the first to speak.

“Why do you always have to be the one to put yourself in danger, Hersch?” he said, speaking what was on everyone’s minds. Three different gazes were directed at their master, who was also perched on a sofa, but he shook his head.

“I’ll keep doing it. I have to,” the master replied, after which the room fell quiet again. The first person to fold was the knight.

“When he sets his mind on something, there’s no stopping him. There’s no use arguing,” the knight said, letting out a sigh. The Spellcaster glared at his master, as if trying to stare a hole through him, before opening his mouth.

“I can’t accept that.” Being the newest of the three, the Spellcaster failed to comprehend why his master would throw himself headfirst into danger. However, it was not his master who spoke up against him.

“If this is what Hersch wishes, then our opinion has no bearing on the matter,” said the butler, the annoyed expression never leaving his face. Having served his master the longest of them all, he knew full well how stubborn the little prince was, and how impossible it was to change his mind.

“You always give Hersch a piece of your mind at every opportunity you can get, yet you won’t stop him when it actually matters?” the Spellcaster said in a mocking tone, at which the butler’s brows twitched. His dark red eyes glared at him coldly.

“Shut it, magic maniac.”

“Watch it, or I’ll burn you to a crisp,” the mage snapped back, almost bursting a blood vessel as he stared the butler down.

Tired of his coworkers arguing, the knight who was standing between them shrugged his shoulders in frustration.

“Will you two stop bickering over my head? Honestly.” The last time he had tried to stop the two from fighting, it hadn’t ended well for him. Since then, the knight had tried to make sure that they at least didn’t cause any trouble for any bystanders, but otherwise left them be.

The butler shifted his gaze from the Spellcaster to his master.

“Still, the magic nut has a point. It would be better if I—”

“No,” his master cut him short, then continued in a stern tone. “You can’t do that. Then everything would be for naught.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them to look at his men of service. “Thank you for worrying about me. But I’ll be just fine—as long as I have all of you.” He flashed them his usual innocent smile. His men of service couldn’t bring themselves to say anything in response to that. It was clear as day just how much faith he placed in his men.

“Lend me your strength.”

His men of service nodded in response.

At a later point in time, and in a different place, a different scene was unfolding in the office of the Principality’s parliamentary head.

The Principality of Parche was a maritime nation, with the sea to the west and north, and Gracis Kingdom and the Atrad Empire to the east and south, respectively. With Grand Duke Parche as its head of state, its parliament was split into two houses: the House of Peers, controlled by the nobility, and the House of Representatives, which represented the common people. The nobility and the people had long walked hand in hand, usually cooperating, sometimes quarreling, but always working for the common good of the country. Grand Duke Parche was less of a ruler and more of a speaker for the parliament, mediating between the two houses in an attempt to find common ground.

The Principality excelled in trade and diplomacy, and had so far managed to escape the grasp of both the neighboring kingdom and empire while maintaining a favorable relationship with both. The current grand duke was an elderly man, soon to turn seventy.

The grand duke finished reading the two letters placed on the table before him, letting out a groan as he scratched his beard. By his side, the chairwoman of the House of Peers, a bespectacled young woman, as well as the chairman of the House of Representatives, a man in his prime, made similar expressions as they stared intently at the letters.

“Now then... What do we do?”

“Do we really have much of a choice...?” the chairwoman of the House of Peers asked, nervously adjusting her glasses as she picked up one of the two letters. This one was a secret correspondence that had been enclosed with a letter from the grand duke’s daughter, who had been married off to Gracis. “If we simply do as it says, they will be in our debt. Regardless of how matters turn out, there is little risk in it for our country.”

“Now this is fascinating,” the chairman of the House of Representatives interjected. He was a man of the sea—unshaven, tan, and sturdy. Wearing finely-tailored clothes in a disheveled manner, he stood out from the others in the parliament, but he himself didn’t spare a second thought for any of that. He took up the second letter, still sitting on the table. “All of our negotiations have been public so far, with no backdoor dealings to speak of, so this is a first. How very fascinating indeed.”

He smiled, seeming almost like a mischievous boy despite his age. The woman frowned at the sight, but quickly readjusted her glasses as if to hide her expression.

“I do not think it matters whether the dealings between two states are fascinating or not,” the woman coldly replied, to which the man smiled suggestively.

“Now, now, even you can tell that this is fascinating in all sorts of ways, can’t you?” the man said, waving the letter in the air a few times before placing it back down on the table. “A storm is coming for Gracis.”

The man smiled cheerfully, as if to show just how confident he was, while the woman averted her gaze. She was well aware that, in spite of the man’s facetious attitude, he did have a point. The matter at hand would greatly affect the relationship between their own country and the kingdom going forward. After a moment, the woman turned to the grand duke.

“Your Grace, how shall we proceed? This is not a matter for the parliament...” the woman said, implying that the matter had to be kept behind closed doors. The grand duke furrowed his brow, and after a moment of silence, he opened his mouth and informed them of his decision.

“Are you sure, Your Grace? This is more or less a gamble. I thought you weren’t very fond of gambling,” the man asked, amused. In response, the grand duke furrowed his brow even deeper and nodded.