[767] Breaking the Precepts (2)
* * *
South Aymond Republic.
Almareta's face at the cabinet meeting was unexpectedly buoyant.
'Is unification finally coming?'
According to the spy reports, Igor was already dead and the capital Pasia had been liberated hours ago.
'How could that be…?'
Doubts were inevitable, but hope that a long war might finally end washed away their coolness.
The ministers waiting for the head of state had also heard the liberation through their channels, but only a few knew the full details.
"Can we really trust this? There are too many oddities. We won't be at a loss, but—"
For ministers of a country that had avoided a demon invasion, war had been profitable.
'They made a lot of money.'
Citizens who had faced death found no reason to oppose the parliament's tax increases.
"Only one out of four hundred northern spies sent this liberation message. Aren't we jumping the gun?"
That only J.C. had survived meant none of them had escaped the demons' surveillance.
"He's reliable. Skilled and patriotic. It's true that Igor is dead."
The interior minister looked to the defense minister. "How exactly did this happen?"
At that moment Almareta entered.
"I'll explain."
When the ministers rose, she gestured for them to sit and took the chair.
"It is true that North Aymond has been liberated."
"Do you have grounds to say that?"
"Igor died a long time ago."
A murmur ran through the chamber.
"To put it plainly: the core force behind this wasn't the Resistance or the Anarchists. It was the Ivory Tower."
A collective sigh escaped the ministers.
"I'll brief you."
The defense minister stood and walked to the lectern; Almareta stepped aside.
The briefing lasted about thirty minutes.
"…Currently, the number of demons in the capital is estimated to be in the single digits, and two of the Stars appear to have gone off to seal the altar."
Shadows passed over the ministers' faces.
"Just in a day… two people liberated Pasia?"
"Monstrous."
What kind of people were the Ivory Tower's Stars?
"Thank you for the briefing."
When the defense minister returned to his seat, Almareta set a hand on the lectern.
"As you can imagine, we stand at the most critical crossroads since the division. The North is in a state of anarchy. Every minute counts."
"We should deploy troops immediately and occupy the North. It was ours to begin with. We can't hand it over to another country," the interior minister said.
Almareta nodded.
"I agree. However, if we act unilaterally the Ivory Tower will step in. We must reach a mutual agreement."
Though she framed it politely, ministers who had dealt with the Stars before winced.
'We'll be begging for mercy.'
"Leave it to me. We can offer concessions, but I'll make sure we retain oversight of the North."
It sounded odd to say she would "handle" the Stars, but the foreign minister had once brokered a dramatic settlement with the Ivory Tower.
"No. This time I will negotiate personally."
"You, Madam President?"
If the Stars demanded a head of state, there was little choice, but leaders didn't normally volunteer to be humiliated.
"What kind of Stars are they? Are they people we know?"
"That's… classified."
The Stars had once been citizens and mages of nations; revealing identities in a room of ministers would be unwise.
The foreign minister pressed, "Still, we should know enough to prepare. How many Stars are there?"
He believed their disposition varied with number.
"There are ten Stars."
"Ten…?"
The foreign minister frowned, thinking it over. "Wait. Two people—how can there be ten Stars…?"
His face froze.
"Ten?"
The simple arithmetic—five plus five equals ten—flashed through their minds, and every minister swallowed hard.
"You get the idea now, yes?"
As the ministers turned, Almareta jerked her chin toward the door.
"What are you waiting for? Move."
Shirone and Minerva crossed South Aymond's airspace in a jet.
"There's the capital—Gardan."
A massive city built on the plains.
"It's bigger than Vashka."
"It's a republic. Even accounting for social costs, it develops faster than a kingdom. Its defense is superior."
Tormia was a great power too, but South Aymond's military was said to rival the Seven Kings.
"I still prefer Tormia."
"Heh. Different tastes."
The Ivory Tower's Stars had no attachment to nationhood, but Shirone's briefly human expression was pleasant enough.
"Let's land by the gate."
"No need. The Stars have free passage through the airspace. Besides, they already seem to know everything."
A line of soldiers reached the government offices.
"This is your first meeting with the head, right? The troops won't be themselves. The top brass will be pinching them like mad."
"Is all this pomp necessary?"
"Of course not. They're trying to pry something loose. Don't get distracted—do as I say."
They crossed the walls faster than sound and reached the government building. An officer snapped to attention and called out.
"Welcome the honored guests!"
To the sound of the military band, pre-arranged citizens threw petals in a grand reception.
"Don't be distracted. Keep walking."
Shirone, aware this wasn't simple goodwill, walked with a cautious expression.
Ministers, deputy ministers, department heads, experts, commanders with rank insignia—all were assembled.
'That's…'
Against the government building stood Almareta, wearing a modest smile as she approached.
"Welcome, honored guests. Thank you for visiting the South Aymond Republic."
Even before the watching public she bowed twice to Shirone and Minerva.
'She's gambling everything.'
Minerva gave an enigmatic smile; Shirone didn't know how to respond.
"Uh, I belong to the Ivory Tower…"
Minerva ignored the president and turned to a man in his early fifties at her side.
"Long time, kiddo."
Ruda Garcia, head of South Aymond's Mage Association, inclined his head.
"A long time."
An officially certified first-class grand mage who had perfected flame magic—his fireball was said to be capable of burning an entire village.
"Again."
Minerva curled her index finger downward, indicating he should bow lower.
"…"
Garcia didn't move.
"Again."
"Please refrain from actions that would lower the dignity of either side. This is a welcome prepared with our best efforts."
Shirone had sensed it from the first moment he saw Garcia.
'He's powerful.'
Not inferior to Lupist, Tormia's mage association head.
"Again. This is your last chance."
Almareta, briefly forgotten, shot a distressed look.
'Just do it. You know his temper.'
Garcia bowed ninety degrees.
"A pleasure to meet you again, Star of the Ivory Tower."
Minerva watched him coolly and nodded toward Shirone with her chin.
"There's one more."
Garcia showed no emotion.
"Pleased to meet you. I am Garcia, head of the Mage Association."
"Yes. Arian Shirone."
No need for more words that would only sour things.
"My, you're the association head now? You've grown. It feels like only yesterday you were shaking before me."
Minerva sounded older than Shirone expected.
"I wasn't shaking."
"Shirone, remember this man's name. In firecraft, he's the best in the world."
That Minerva, who hadn't glanced at the president, personally introduced him carried weight.
Almareta's face cooled as she led them into the conference room.
"May I be blunt?"
"What kind of blunt question is that? Go ahead. We've seen enough of the president's courtesy."
Shirone had bowed to earn the right to speak.
"Give us sovereignty over the North. We will manage the altar and won't do anything to draw other nations' ire."
What the republic wanted, ultimately, was money.
"What will you do, Shirone?"
Leaving administration to South Aymond would be easy, but he felt the altar should be overseen by the crusade.
"It's not perfectly sealed. Are you absolutely certain you can prevent any breach?"
"The president doesn't use the word 'absolutely.' But we take pride in South Aymond's defense."
Almareta glanced aside, slid a box from under the table, and pushed it forward.
"And this is modest."
Shirone's expression soured at once.
"In these terms—"
Before he could finish, Minerva took the box, opened it, and examined the contents.
Instead of gold and jewels, they were bonds stamped with the national seal and sums written on them.
"So you're not joking."
"This is one-tenth of South Aymond's national budget. Leave it to me. I am confident I can satisfy the Ivory Tower."
Shirone's eyes went hollow.
'One-tenth of the budget? That's beyond lobbying. I must never accept that.'
Minerva rubbed a bond between her fingers, tapped it, and tossed it back.
"This offer won't do."
'Of course. Minerva is one of the Ivory Tower's Stars.'
Shirone felt ashamed for doubting her—then a shocking demand followed.
"Half the national budget. Nothing less."
At first he thought he'd misheard.
Even the one-tenth offered earlier was enormous; a single person wouldn't need that much in a lifetime.
'…I see.'
Almareta looked distraught as she turned to Shirone.
"That demand is excessive. How can we run the government if you take half the budget?"
"What do you think?"
Shirone nodded. "If it's half, I'll allow it."
"..."
As if a mask had fallen away, Almareta's pleading look emptied.
"Twenty-five percent. I cannot concede more than that."
"We said fifty percent."
"Thirty percent. If it's any higher, we will renounce our right to govern North Aymond."
"Forty percent. Let's end this. Two options: pay ten percent each year for four years, or hand over government bonds now."
"I'll hand them over now."
Minerva chuckled, shoulders shaking. "You're a decent leader."
They wagered that over four years of ten-percent payments a foreign power would end up paying more, but finishing the deal now would permanently remove Ivory Tower interference.
'On the other hand…'
Even giving away forty percent of a year's budget, gaining sovereignty over North Aymond was still a profitable deal.
'Still, this will prevent South Aymond from running wild. It's better to end it here.'
What surprised Shirone was how quickly he'd grasped their real aim.
'I thought he was a dilettante, but he's pragmatic.'
Forty percent of a national budget was an amount Minerva couldn't exhaust in a lifetime. Shirone realized the problem wasn't personal greed but that South Aymond's budget needed trimming.
'They already have military power comparable to the Seven Kings. Absorbing North Aymond would seed another conflict.'
Almareta produced a freshly written bond.
"You two hold the highest positions in the Ivory Tower; I trust this will prevent any later complications."
An amount equal to forty percent of the national budget was written on it.