You could say that this "kid" got rid of the parasites.
But—ironically—those very parasites had been rather beneficial to the Kingdom of Holfort. Thanks to their activities, the army had always enjoyed a steady influx of male nobles; after all, women in Holfort almost never serve, and organizations like that ensured a stable stream of recruits.
Now that the "Forest of Ladies" has been wiped out, one of Holfort's key problems has become the shrinking of its army.
"A grim situation," remarked one of the commanders of the Principality of Fanoss, frowning. "Losing a quarter of the enemy's forces sounds like good news on the surface, but if you think about it… such internal upheavals make them unpredictable."
Leon nodded, holding the room's attention.
"The second point is the internal conflict within Holfort itself. The kingdom's three largest noble houses are currently not on the best of terms. The tension is especially strong between Holfort's royal family and the House of Redgrave."
He paused briefly before continuing:
"The reason? A scandal at the very top. The prince broke off his engagement for another woman. They didn't become outright enemies, but the relationship between their houses has grown noticeably colder. That rift can be used to our advantage."
Someone in the room gave a quiet chuckle; another thoughtfully traced a finger along the tabletop.
"But there's also a third house," Leon went on. "The House of Frampton, led by Malcolm Fou Frampton. And he might be our biggest trump card. That man dreams of sitting on Holfort's throne. If we promise him support in exchange for aiding the invasion, he'll likely agree."
Garrett, who had been listening silently until now, finally spoke up:
"We've already made partial contact with him. Nothing formal yet, but his interest is obvious."
Leon smirked inwardly.
Hmm. I'll have to ask Luxion and Cleare to check his mansion. I'll do the same thing he's been doing to me—but instead of planting letters, I'll take the ones he already has.
He returned to the discussion, absently adjusting his glove.
"Good to hear. Then let's move on to the final—and perhaps most important—question."
All eyes turned toward him.
"In the past few days," Leon asked, "have there been any reports of a spy being caught on the island?"
Silence fell over the room.
"No?" Leon gave a low chuckle. "Then we have a problem. The Kingdom of Holfort has probably started to suspect something. Rumors have reached them that high-ranking military figures from the principality are gathering here. It's quite possible they've already sent spies to find out what's going on."
He swept his gaze around the room, his voice turning cold:
"That spy could be anyone. He might be sitting right here. He could be you"—Leon pointed at one of the officers—"he could be me… or even the Black Knight. Who knows?"
Those words had an instant effect. The room erupted in mutters, whispers, and tense suspicion. People began throwing wary glances at one another.
Leon clapped his hands sharply, cutting through the noise.
"Fortunately," he said calmly, "I haven't revealed every detail of our plan. And I'm sure you're all holding a few things back yourselves. So here's what I suggest."
He reached under his cloak, pulled out a small metallic device, placed it on the table, and said with a faint grin:
"This is a bucket."
He paused, enjoying their puzzled expressions.
"Inside are my documents—plans, drafts, and analytical notes on Holfort. I'm sure each of you has your own versions of strategies. Here's my proposal: you put yours in here as well. Then we'll hand everything over to the Grand Duchess. Let her study the material and decide whose ideas should be used in the upcoming invasion."
A rustle swept through the hall—one by one, the officers began pulling out their papers, nodding, and handing them to Leon.
He watched with satisfaction.
Twenty minutes, Leon thought, and they're already doing whatever I tell them.
Now, in his hands, he held enough information not only to weaken the Principality of Fanoss, but perhaps even to help the Kingdom of Holfort unite—if only a little.
Well, politics was never really my dream, he mused silently, but if you want a better future for yourself, you've got to work for it.