LETTER 11

Miss March—

I truly need to see you again after all these years.

You see, ever since my days helping the brave warriors of the Constantius theater maintain their lines from the demonic invasion, I’ve made a habit of silently touching my own fingertips to count things.

With my right thumb, I would touch my first digit and think of my father. I would touch the next digit and think of my mother. I would touch my third digit and think of my brother. I would touch the next digit, the first digit of my middle finger, and think of my first sister. Then, I would touch the second digit and think of my youngest sister.

For the third digit, I would think of my closest friends. Moving on to the ringfinger, with each digit, I would think of their families. Moving on to the tiny finger, I would think of my neighbors in Constantius. With each digit of my right hand, I would see the faces of the people important to me, and with it, I would remember what I had to protect.

That would give me the courage to stand. That would strengthen my resolve.

After Suzuki took off to the Darklands to fight the Demon King, I added a new habit—I would clench my left fist for a moment, feel all my fingers, feel the entire palm of my hand, and think of him. Then, after he returned from that final fight, I added everyone else from the Mansion to the list.

With the feeling of touch in both of my hands, I would remember everyone dear to me. I would remember what I would have to do to protect their smiles.

I would remember to be strong.

It was the strength I so desperately needed as the week finally ended, because Rex Lenamontis had officially summoned all representatives of the Patritia and Magistratus back to the Royal Court for His decision.

There was one key difference in the air this time—the entirety of the public was abuzz that, for the first time, the King would use the Academic Transmission platform to broadcast His decision directly, and simultaneously, to all of Lenamontis. This would be the first ever use of the Academic Transmission for live dissemination.

It would also be the last time the King should have to address the issue of slavery in Lenamontis, because this time, His decision would be made public as it was made. No more waiting for messengers. No more waiting for announcers. The voice of the King would echo all across Lenamontis as He spoke.

All in all, the public was anxious and excited. I was the same.

With my fingers running beyond control all over each other—hidden behind my back, of course, so that my nervousness wouldn’t be seen by anyone else—I took a deep breath as the other dukes started coming into the Court.

This time, rather than preparing to be seated, I was still standing when the doors to the Court were opened. I wore a plainer white dress with blue accents this time, a dress with much less embroidery, no gold-laden patterns, and nearly no accessories save for my one diamond earring. I had to make sure that my tone was a match with the King’s attire and my Manus Dextra brooch. Even the capelet I wore for the occasion was pure white. I wasn’t there as Duca Constantii. I was there as Manus Dextra Regis Lenamontis.

I knew that one look from the slaveowning dukes confirmed everything we both needed to know.

However, nothing was spoken out loud. The King had also avoided meeting with anybody in the Castle the past week, even some of His own Vindex Regis. He had turned away nearly every request to see Him after I exploded in His face the night after the fateful emergency summons (it was a long story, Miss March—I’ll tell you of it another time!). It was the first time since the meeting that the King finally showed His face again.

My appearance as Manus Dextra, the reappearance of the King, the use of Academic Transmission … everyone who had attended the previous meeting knew that this meeting would be very different to the one before, but even then, there was still one more key difference—the one difference that finally made the nobles break their silence and murmur as they walked in, a total breach of etiquette when going into Court with the King.

The Hero was there with us.

Suzuki was wearing a polite, tight-fitting blue ceremonial suit, all properly buttoned up and the fabrics sleek, complete with a deep magenta cloak draped over his shoulders. The Divine Blade hung idly by his side, but even his upright posture made it clear that he was relaxed enough to not want to draw the sword out under any circumstances. He looked fairly nervous—I had told him to relax since yesterday, but it probably wasn’t enough—but other than that, he looked dashing.

I took another deep breath. There was a purpose for his presence there. Tactically, of course, because what would go down in the next few minutes could easily depend on his presence there, but him being there also reassured me that it was all going to be alright.

Goddess, give me strength.

After the dukes and marchions were all seated, the Three Justices entered the Court. One thing was different with them: they brought with them a box with a small Magic Stone attached to the back, along with what looked like a wand facing forward and one facing up—it’s the Academic Transmission platform that Miss Hari designed, a tool to instantly transmit information across distances. We really managed to arrange for them to broadcast the results of the meeting directly from the mouth of Rex Lenamontis Himself.

Good. Exactly as intended.

We were right back to our original seating arrangements. Well, apart from Dux Aetii, perhaps, but the reason he wasn’t there was entirely his own fault. The man also happened to have no immediate family or descendants, so even after a week, nobody really showed up to vouch for Aetius. I wanted to feel bad about that, but pragmatically speaking, that’s one vote gone from the slaveowning side. I’m not going to waste what little wins I get.

Once everyone was properly seated, I gestured for Rex Lenamontis to take His seat by the head of the table; and, as He sat, so did I.

The Hero, contrary to his station as the guest of honor in every country in the world, kept standing still by my side—showing that he was not part of the discussion.

The Grand Justice started with a raised hand. “Prior to the meeting, for the sake of the Kingdom of Lenamontis, it shall be proclaimed that the King’s decisions will be impartial, and His choices be made for the greater good of the Kingdom of Lenamontis. This shall be known by all, and acknowledged by all present, as will be proven by the Oath of Impartiality. The Oath shall be spoken aloud under the Holy Empire’s Veracity Purview. Should any person here present objects, make thy voice known now.”

Nobody raised a hand. No objections. We also went through the same motions on the previous meeting, but with the King already visibly picking a side, there was an uncomfortable weight hanging in the air as the King raised a hand over His heart.

The Grand Justice gestured to the Holy Empire ambassador, who cast the Miracle of Truth upon the King. His voice was bright and clear.

“I swear upon the powers invested in Me, above My Throne and under My Crown as the King of Lenamontis, that My decisions forthcoming remain impartial and made only, and only, for the greater good of the Kingdom of Lenamontis. This Oath shan’t be found untruthful and upon this Oath rests My powers as the King of Lenamontis.”

No response from the Miracle of Truth. The Veracity Purview cleared His oath.

That’s the first hurdle cleared. I wasn’t really sure how the Miracle of Truth would respond to everything I had prepared for the occasion, since the King was rather deeply involved in my plans, but He turned out to believe in His own justice way more than I had expected. The words He spoke were truthful. He truly believed himself impartial, even if His choice clearly weighed upon one side.

He truly believed His choice to be just.

Even though He created the Abditum, I thought bitterly, but I held back. It’s not the time.

If I wanted to get out of this alive, and my people out of this without spilling blood, I had no time for my own personal moral concerns. I had to remain focused and precise.

Now that the Oath was out of the way, it was time for the real battle to properly begin.

As with the previous meeting a week ago, the Grand Justice began by deliberating the topic. However, unlike the meeting a week ago, the nobles had all brought their points up—it was time for the conclusion.

So, instead of asking for the dukes to bring up their points in turn, the Grand Justice instead gestured to Rex Lenamontis.

“With the Academic Transmission we have kindly received from Sage Dreyhilda Vanaseid, we shall cast the results of this meeting directly and immediately to all parts of Lenamontis. Then, Rex Lenamontis—Thy conclusion.”

With my thumb, I touch my digits. Father. Mother. My brother. My sisters. Suzuki. Leonie. Maelys. Astrid. Scarlet. Amelie. Lady Dreyhilda. Miss Cath. Miss Artia. Miss Hojo. Little Miss Karin.

Mister Aeolius. Mister Bauer. The young ninjas. The maids. The butlers. Mister Ventus.

My fellow soldiers, long since free or only recently.

With each digit, I see their faces, their smiles, and I remind myself again that what must be done must be done.

Leonie patted me in the back. Suzuki also touched my soldier, very gently, very softly, both of them making sure that the gesture was not outwardly visible to the other dukes.

It’s alright. I have them by my side.

It would work.

Rex Lenamontis gave me a very quick look, and I gave Him the nod.

He cleared His throat. “After one week of considering each point you have all brought up,” He said, maintaining His dignified posture, “and rereading all the papers some of you published, both in the meantime and in the past regarding the topic, as the King of Lenamontis, I believe I have come to a conclusion in regards to slavery in Lenamontis.”

Silence gripped the Court.

“Therefore, with the power invested in Me, above My Throne and under My Crown as the King of Lenamontis, I shall decree the following.”

Nobody dared to even breathe. I gulped.

“With considerations just and belief in the truth of Lenamontis, I find that it is most unbecoming for men to be sold for their worth in gold. In upholding the dignity of fellow man, I henceforth abolish slavery in Lenamontis—effective immediately.”

The Three Justices, unfazed, nodded their heads. The Grand Justice clasped his hands together in conclusion. “Thy decision will be kept for posteriority. Through means of the Transmission, this decree has been disseminated, immediately, so that all who stand upon our lands shall have heard.”

Somewhat surprisingly, but also predictably, there weren’t even reactions of anger or the like among the slaveowners. There wasn’t resignation, either. Rex Lenamontis had warned me that one of the reasons He could not make an immediate choice in the first meeting was because they had prepared an army in secret—to prepare for the case Rex Lenamontis would want to subjugate them to obey by military means.

These nobles could read the tide, and they knew where the wind was blowing. Rex Lenamontis’ decision to abolish slavery came as no surprise.

There were, however, clear sighs of relief from the abolitionists. That was it. Somewhat anticlimactic, maybe, but the battle was won. Their slaves were free.

There was some anxiety plastered all over their faces, too, but that kind of anticipation for the future was nothing new. Lenamontis was changing its face. At last, we could truly live in a world where—

“Well, that was unfortunate,” the Duke of Aureus said, raising his eyebrows and both his hands in gestural surrender. “However, now that the decision was made, we simply can’t leave our people be. Under this legal ground, we would cease to exist. We simply would not survive without slaves. So, I fear, for our own continued existence, this means that the Dukedom of Aureus must secede from Lenamontis.”

There.

That was the cue everyone was really waiting for.

After the Duke’s declaration, his allies gave each other nods before proclaiming their own dukedoms to secede from Lenamontis. The abolitionists were unsurprised—the rumor about the threat of secession was very loud for a rumor, after all—but they didn’t respond, either. They had their territories to think about. They weren’t in the place to start a war.

They wanted to see how the King reacted.

They wanted to see how I reacted.

Half our dukedoms just declared rebellion.

After noticing that the Three Justices also virtually just looked upon the situation with palpable detachment, I knew it fell upon our shoulders to respond.

It should be any time now….

Suzuki tapped my shoulder.

Right on cue.

I nodded to Rex Lenamontis. He understood.

“Well,” the King said—instantly shutting the entire Court up. “That’s even more unfortunate to hear. I can’t imagine having no territory to return to.”

The Grand Justice suddenly stood up. “Rex Lenamontis—didst Thou just proclaim that Thou shalt strip these nobles of their lands?”

The nobles all turned to the King—the Grand Justice raised an important point. Even the King could not proclaim such stripping of a noble’s allotted land without due procedure. What the dukes did was a declaration of rebellion that warranted military response, true, but their lands would only legally belong to Lenamontis upon successful annexation. In fact, nobles who declared secession to a higher power were guaranteed their own safety in the Regulations—at least until they were properly situated in their land.

The King could not, unilaterally, strip a noble of their own land or title.

In other words, the King had just overstepped His boundaries.

This was where my plan hinged upon, the second hurdle, but I held on. Leonie had extended her hand. So had Suzuki. I grabbed both. No need to be subtle this time.

Please don’t fail.

“Oh, no! Absolutely not,” the King feigned surprise. “I simply fear for your territories, see. I just declared your slaves free men, after all—I can’t imagine they’d be very happy about having to secede.”

WHOOSH.

As if cued, the sound of dozens of messenger birds flapping their wings suddenly filled the air.

Messenger birds suddenly flew into the Court, flying all over the halls as if trying to recognize the ones they had to send their messages to … and, slowly, one by one, they found their recipients.

I sighed. Second hurdle cleared.

Now, the third hurdle.

If the plan had worked, those messages should all contain the same things. The timing of the messages would suggest so. However, with enough bad luck, with so many moving parts and only less than a week to arrange everything, this might well be where the plan met its end.

Then, in the drop of a hat, the expressions of the slaveowning dukes all changed.

They changed to shock.

All of them.

I couldn’t help but grin.

Third hurdle cleared.

“As I said,” the King continued, “I simply feared for you.”

The Duke of Aureus, to my surprise, was the first man to lose his temper. He slammed the table with both hands, stood up, and pointed at the King. “YOU—”

Rex Lenamontis simply raised both His eyebrows and smiled. “Yes?”

Realizing only then that he was risking more with each move, the Duke drew a sharp breath before proceeding. “You planned this, did You not? You seized our lands before we seceded! You violated our rights as Patritia!”

“And how should I have planned all this, Dux Aurei?” the King shrugged. “Also, what could you possibly mean by seizing your land? After all, I don’t believe the Praetorium, nor the Vindex Regis, has done anything to your territories. Or is this a formal accusation against Me?”

Some of the slaveowning dukes were trying to raise their voices, but conversely, the Duke of Aureus clammed up. A formal accusation would entail various processes, including the gathering of evidence, and it would not only take time, but also resources.

Neither was something they could afford with the news on their messages, because they should have all just simultaneously received news that their territories had been formally taken over, swiftly, and simultaneously, by their slaves.

That, Miss March, was my grand plan.

For the past week, I’ve been going out at night to each and every slaveowning territory in secret—I admit that this was less than legal, true, but desperate times called for desperate measures. The slaves could communicate in secret using tribal languages, so I figured they wouldn’t be so against the idea of secret interaction if it helped serve their interests.

To make sure that they listened, I asked Suzuki to bring me everywhere with Teleport. As the man had been to all Lenamontis lands, it wasn’t impossible. The presence of the Hero made them quiet down and note that we were serious.

Then, after I made sure that they listened, I came to each slave group with someone they’d listen to. Not me—I’m a noble, there was no way I could relate to their experiences. Not Suzuki, either—he was the Hero, his existence was way beyond any human reach.

We needed one of their own, so we brought the former slaves among us: Miss Cath, Miss Artia, and, most importantly, Little Miss Karin.

Of everyone in the Mansion, they probably desired the end of slavery the most.

Of everyone in Lenamontis, the slaves would probably listen to them the most.

“I was lucky enough to have never found a master,” Miss Cath recounted to the slaves. “I was virtually stuck in my slave merchant’s cage. My price kept going down in the auctions—I would always fight back. I would bite whoever tried to tame me, I would kick on whoever approached me. The slave merchant was armed with a mage, who tried to use flames to tame me.”

She lifted a portion of her top, showing a burn scar on her side.

“It never healed. The Hero and the healer of his Party, Her Holiness Johanna, offered to heal me. I refused.” She gave a toothy grin, showing her fangs. “No way I would ever let myself forget. I can still see their faces in my dreams today.”

She did, however, have Miss Johanna heal her brand. She did not want anything on her body that would seem to mark her as the property of a slave merchant. In this regard, Miss Artia was the same.

However, Miss Artia was, in a way, less fortunate: her more feminine frame, and her more demure behavior, had made her a more desirable slave for the less savory characters. Like Miss Cath, she was terrified to her death when they were captured. Unlike Miss Cath, her will was entirely broken the moment Miss Cath got hurt the first time. She couldn’t fight back.

When her turn came in the slave auction, she was sold almost immediately. She didn’t even get to say goodbye to Miss Cath when she was taken away to be collared.

It was an entirely lucky coincidence that she was accidentally left behind due to an illness when her master had to move away. The person who found her fallen on the road saw her brand, then returned her to the slave merchant. The merchant tried to reach the buyer again. The buyer, apparently, had grown bored of Miss Artia by that point and didn’t really think much of the money he’d spent to buy her.

That was when Miss Artia was reunited with the still-rebellious Miss Cath. Where Miss Cath had a mark from the mages burning her for punishment, Miss Artia had a matching mark from the ruin she had to endure from her former master. Miss Cath always called it their sisterly mark, a proof that they were inseparable even when they were apart.

Their final stroke of luck was that Suzuki was operating in the location when they orchestrated their escape. Encountering the escaped slaves, against everyone’s judgment, Suzuki could only afford to provide them his open arms.

Miss Artia had to fight back her tears as she recounted her story.

“Oh! Burn mark!” Little Miss Karin sounded like she just realized something. “Mother had that, too!”

Unlike the two beastwomen, Little Miss Karin was a slave since birth. The circumstances weren’t even all that difficult: her mother birthed her in her slavery. From what we gathered during the Diutiscus Affair, her mother was a money slave, traded in for cold hard cash by her own family right at the end of her puberty. The young woman later fell in love with a very kind man, a fellow slave in the estate she worked in, and they conceived Karin.

The man passed away not long after that due to what was supposedly a work mistake, although we had reasons to believe that it was punishment for having Karin—as she was one additional mouth to feed without their permission. Karin’s mother, her heart completely shattered, took very good care of Karin as she was the last legacy of the man she had loved.

Then, when illness took her over, she had only little will left to live. She could only hold on for so long. Karin could barely remember her mother—just enough details to make her remember the love she was given, the littlest details about her existence and that she had someone she called ‘Mother’, but not much else. Not her voice. Not her face.

However, once in a while, she would vividly remember things like this.

Contrary to Miss Cath and Miss Artia, Little Miss Karin refused to have her brand healed. She was crying for so many nights the first time the Mansion maids took off her original ragged clothes and dressed her up properly, and we later learned from Amelie that the poor girl struggled to let go of her mother without even knowing it. So she kept things, little things, many things, all the things that would help her remember her mother—and her brand was no exception.

To her, the brand had always meant something different than what it was for. To her, it was a memento of her mother.

“We were lucky we had the Hero with us when we needed it the most,” Miss Cath then concluded. “Now, let the Hero save you—and, in the same way, you can save us, too.”

The men were touched by the bond between Miss Cath and Miss Artia. The women were touched by the bond between Little Miss Karin and her mother. Slaves might be plenty abound; they may be sold as things and traded in gold, but that moment just proved to me something I had always known—that they were still human.

That way, when I and Suzuki began laying down our plans, they all listened.

It was important that Suzuki was there. It gave them morale. It gave them strength to know that the Hero was fighting for their cause—in the same way he had always fought, as bloodlessly as possible.

“Timing is important,” I said. Oh, it felt like back when we were holding strategy meetings in Constantius during the War. It’s actually kind of nostalgic. “We’ll need someone to get to the slaver’s room to grab the keys. We’ll need it to control how the overseers move and where. We also need to make sure that we move at the exact time I tell you, because we need the results to all happen together.”

“All? Together?” a shifty-eyed slave asked. “With whom?”

I looked him in the eye. “With all the other slaves all across Lenamontis.”

Murmurs. “So the Hero will—”

“Help you, yes. But not during the very day itself. He has to attend the central battle—the battle that determines how your fight will end. Your fight is to take him there, and he will finish everything for you.”

“Just like with the demons,” Miss Cath simplified. “We all handled the frontlines—but he went for the Demon King. We kept things going so that he could finish the job.”

“This is a fight we all fight together,” Miss Artia concluded. “If we’re all going to be free, this is the time. Act carefully. Act quickly. Act precisely. Let’s get it done.”

I had to assign different times for the different territories so that all the messenger birds would arrive in the Royal Court at approximately the same time. I knew the overseers and slavers would use messenger birds, as that’s the quickest way to send information without the Academic Transmission. We had to make sure, because we needed the timing to be perfect—the King must have already proclaimed slavery abolished by the time the messenger birds came, but the slaveowners must have also proclaimed secession.

The first hurdle was, of course, the Oath of Impartiality. The King was in on this plan the moment I hatched it.

The second hurdle was making sure the birds were all properly timed to arrive. I had Suzuki use one of his Miracles, the one he called Detection, which allowed him to feel the presence of anything in his surroundings—he would signal me when the birds were nearby so that I could time Rex Lenamontis’ response to the threat of secession. He could also inform me if something was wrong, like if there were less messenger birds arriving than expected, so that I could jump into contingencies. Otherwise, we needed the precise timing because Rex Lenamontis’ answer would have to be discreet, enough so that the Magistratus could not endanger His position, but at the same time, He would have to make sure all the dukes knew that He was not taking the threat of secession sitting down. Knowing when to use what kind of threats was part of the plan.

The third hurdle was something that entirely depended on how the slaves handled each of their tasks. I asked the niftiest of them to pick locks and take away all the necessary things—keys, weapons, everything that the slavers could use to control things and hurt people. Then, I asked the strongest to be ready to throw hands. Not to fight, just to intimidate and maybe defend if anything goes wrong.

Then, I asked everybody else to be ready to move—the fastest among them all to occupy the slavers’ quarter as quickly as they could, supported by the strongest, and then by the rest of the slaves. For every more than a hundred slaves, there was only one slaver. No one person could fight more than a hundred men without a weapon, except maybe if that person were Suzuki.

Just in case things still went wrong, I still posted two ninjas for each rebellion center—they only had to make sure each timing of action went without a hitch, and if something was to fail, they were to swoop in to make sure no blood was spilled.

Otherwise, everyone was to take control quickly, swiftly, precisely, and bloodlessly.

Different territories had to start at different times. Thankfully, Lenamontis was surrounded by the Seven Mountains, so I could time them all based on how much sunlight had touched Mons Deae, the tallest mountain, the one we called the Mountain of the Goddess. It was the mountain most visible to the entirety of Lenamontis, and its tip was always the first to kiss the sunlight good morning.

With that, the slave takeovers all occurred with the reports arriving at almost the same time—all without Vindex Regis being involved.

That was the very important part: that the Vindex Regis was not, in any way, involved with the simultaneous takeover.

“This kind of uprising could only happen if they were all coordinated,” said the Duke of Aureus. “I wonder if maybe You happen to know something about that, Your Highness. For example … maybe something about that Hero next to You who could appear and disappear at will to faraway places.”

It was no secret that Suzuki vouched for abolition, after all. It wouldn’t be a surprise if he was involved in this practically miraculous uprising. However, the young man simply shrugged with a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, Milord, but even I can’t be in so many different places at the same time. Sounds like a cool Skill, though!”

(He called his Miracles his ‘Skills’ for some reason that I don’t really understand, maybe I’ll have him explain that to me someday in the future.)

“Also,” I added, “as you could all here see, Sir Tanaka was always with us this entire meeting. How could he have done anything else?”

And this was what I needed him here for. I had to make sure that it’s visible to everyone that his involvement was minimal to begin with. Even, if I were to be honest, I wish to have the power to Teleport myself so that he could be entirely uninvolved apart from his one other role, if possible. The slaveowners had to see that this was entirely orchestrated by the slaves—that this was an expression of general dissatisfaction by the populace.

“Then, certainly, it shan’t be a problem for us to retaliate by force,” the Duke of Aureus continued. “These slaves have taken over something by force, after all.”

“I’m afraid it wouldn’t be that easy,” Rex Lenamontis said. “They are now free men, you see. Their freedom was given the moment the news of my decision reached your territory, which it has, thanks to Miss Haraldina Jarnsida’s wonderful new invention. The Regulations stipulate that freed slaves are cleared of all their past crimes. In other words, as of my announcement, it’s safe to say that they’ve done nothing wrong in the eyes of the law. If you try to use force upon them, the Executor Legis may have to be involved. But, if you still doubt, I’d love to hear what the Magistratus has to say about that.”

All attention turned to the three representatives of the Magistratus. The Grand Justice just nodded. “With the present Regulations, that is indeed the case, Dux Aurei. However, if you feel that your territory is so in need of public order, we will not be shy to have Executor Legis assist you in assessing the situation and deciding how to proceed.”

The slaveowners gritted their teeth. While the Grand Justice technically said that they would be cooperative, this would turn the affair into one that involved the Magistratus—and they probably had their own vested interest in either the liberation or subjugation of slaves. Not only was their position uncertain, involving a whole other Power would come with so many things to entail, a whole other set of interests to consider … again, that required time and resources, which they couldn’t so easily afford at the moment.

“No matter!” one of the slaveowning dukes proclaimed. “I shall have my army prepare still to retaliate, Rex Lenamontis. You have clearly overstepped Your boundaries!”

“Have I?” the King calmly asked. “I mean, I haven’t done a thing. In fact, I can’t even order My own Guards around right now.”

Then, collectively, it just dawned upon everyone: not a single Vindex Regis was present this entire meeting.

The King was never without his Guards.

I could see that Duke of Aureus’ heart just sank right to his stomach. “Where are they—where are the Guards?”

“Oh, nowhere important,” the King chuckled. “Just making sure that the routes all over the Kingdom are safe for me. You have heard that I planned an itinerary to traverse the Kingdom, yes? It’s almost the anniversary of the Demon King’s death. I wish to see My free people, after all.”

And that was the real reason the King hid Himself for the entire week. He was taking shelter in the Heroic Mansion, Miss March, as more and more of his Guards were sent out to take control of key Lenamontese roads. He was without Guard the entire week, and He could not afford to be in that much danger. The safest place for Him to be would be near where the Hero was, so that’s where He hid.

The Duke visibly gritted his teeth. Rex Lenamontis just implied that He had taken over all the important travel routes, which meant that He had taken over all the important supply routes. The dukes had prepared armies to prepare for the King to retaliate with his military, but armies still consisted of men. They still needed food. They still needed water. They still needed rest. They still needed medical assistance.

Armies weren’t cheap to deploy, let alone maintain. I should know, I’ve had to manage one.

Now, with the King controlling the supply lines and taking vantage points, the dukes would have to squirm more uncomfortably, even if only for a bit. They were still relatively self-sustaining, sure, but they’d start the war at a disadvantage. If nothing else, we’ve made it difficult for them to reach out for allies if any one of them was in trouble. At worst, we made it very easy for the Guards to intercept them when the fighting began in earnest.

I was very afraid about the idea of a protracted war, but that was only because my enemies had the advantage of sustenance. In other words, the opposite was also true: should they fail to turn the battle into one of attrition, the advantage would be on my side.

“But this means your Guards are scattered about, no?” one of the dukes answered, laughing nervously. To my surprise, Suzuki was the one who responded.

“Ah, about that!” he said. “I think I saw a request on the Travelers’ Guild just a few days ago. I believe it mentioned something about assisting the Vindex Regis in keeping the roads safe for the King to travel. I really wanted to join because the quest prize was no joke, but I haven’t been hunting monsters in a while … I don’t know if the receptionist still remembers me, hehe.”

That was a very clear jest, but I never thought Suzuki could be that petty. Of course the receptionists at the Travelers’ Guild remembers him, he’s the literal Hero. That said, this was his real, irreplaceable role: the sway he held over the Travelers’ Guild.

The Guild was renowned for its independence, Miss March, as you are aware—it was this lack of affiliation to any specific country that made them the most successful in international affairs, right next to the Church.

They had branches everywhere, drafting simple travelers, profiteering merchants, pioneering adventurers, curious scientists, and powerful mercenaries—people who made it their life’s purpose to venture into the unknown or assist the people who do. All the quests were also private: the requester would have to pay a fee to post a quest and leave the prize money, or a portion of it, with the Guild. The Guild contributed to the economy by being a place where people could even leave their savings, which they could cycle for other purposes and allowing those people to withdraw that money from any of the other branches of the Guild, making merchants worry much less about having to travel afar with large bags of gold that could easily be robbed. Even the Merchants’ Guild relied on the Travelers’ Guild for banking—they’re that influential.

Suzuki used to be this kind of Traveler himself with his Party. He knew full well the sense of freedom and odd solidarity that all the Travelers shared.

With his help, although the Vindex Regis was stretched thin, they weren’t lacking for manpower. Suzuki was a legend among the Travelers, and he had more than enough gold from his adventures to both afford the anonymous quest and sponsor the Guild to blow it up. Sure, maybe the Travelers wouldn’t be ready for a real protracted battle, but acting for a sudden show of force to just give pressure? Just to make the assembled duchy soldiers even more hesitant to act, right after the shock from knowing their supply lines were cut? They were more than enough.

They were even enough to completely drain the colors from the faces of the slaveowning dukes.

“I’ll … I’ll still have to take back my plantation….”

“From the people who had spent their lives operating the thing?” the Duchess of Forestis snickered. “Good luck.”

Above all else, their main concern about losing slavery was the labor. They now had to pay the hard labor that the people there give out, as they normally should.

Outside of that, they really just wanted either the status quo or the profits.

Slowly, the dukes started realizing that the longer they stayed in the Capitol, the more of an upper hand we’d get. The moment they announced secession, their right to safety was only guaranteed until they reached their territories again—which they’d lost control of, thanks to the former slaves. They could not just start the rebellion in earnest, as the Guards would be ready to intercept. They could not even let their assembled soldiers do anything, because they had not formally informed their territories that they were seceding. In other words, until the news reached their respective territories, they were still subject to Lenamontese laws.

If someone were to start a fight, that would instantly involve the Executor Legis—and, by extension, the Magistratus.

Even further yet, they could not even have their own footsoldiers lay a hand on the slaves to subjugate them again, as the slaves were already free people thanks to Rex Lenamontis arranging to have his decision broadcasted instantly. The moment we had access to instant communication, we held the overwhelming advantage.

It’s almost ironic how the Academic Transmission was only developed because the Alliance rejected Suzuki’s motion for abolishing slavery. What goes around truly comes around.

“In other words, My good Dukes, I have not crossed any of My authorities as Praetorium here,” the King concluded. “I would even be delighted in helping you negotiate with the people who took your territories to have them return it to you. However, if you still wish to continue with the secession, you will not only return to enemies back in your territory—you will make one of Me. Unless, of course, the Justices are willing to mediate in the discussion regarding the terms with which you could return to your respective territories. How does that sound, Your Honor?”

The Grand Justice nodded. “We advocate for peace in all Lenamontis territories. We will be more than happy to negotiate with the freed people of the dukedoms regarding their actions and whether the dukes and marchions can be safely returned to their homes.”

The message was somewhere between the lines, but it was clear: if the slaveowning dukes and marchions still wished to go home, they would have no choice but to surrender.

They lost the battle before it even began.

We didn’t even need to always hold the advantage—we just needed to have it at the right time and hold it for as long as necessary. A transient state, so to speak.

Just like you told me, Miss March.

With that, the Duke of Aureus finally threw his hands up in surrender. His allies, soon after, followed suit.

The Three Justices extended orders to the Executor Legis to assist. Suzuki also offered to help, although I felt like that just rubbed salt upon the slaveowners’ wound. What we did was nothing short of blackmail, but it was effective. We somehow skirted around all the technicalities. As the dukes were escorted out of the Court, as I took one last deep breath, it really finally dawned on me.

We somehow pulled it off.

We really somehow pulled it off.

We did it, Miss March. I don’t know how, but we did it. We ended slavery without bloodshed.

I was so tired of everything that had transpired I felt like collapsing, but my dearest Hero was there to catch me.

“Careful there,” he said. I just giggled. Then I laughed.

Then I cried.

We somehow pulled it off.

We really somehow pulled it off.

I tugged upon the sleeves of my beloved, and I just blanked out.

I still can’t believe it, but….

Miss March—we did it.

We finally see the day all men in Lenamontis are truly free.

To the future and thereafter,
Charlotte Valeria de Constantia,
Ducal House Constantius, Kingdom of Lenamontis.

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