Bullet Points, Part I

“So, you are saying that you found this shell on the battlefield. Therefore, that must be a gun that fired it, and firing that gun was a war crime?” I asked the princess, half sarcastically and half bewilderedly.

“Obviously.” The princess, who was as confused as I were, replied. “On top of that, the shell has no markings on it. It’s a clear violation of the Vertian Protocols.”

“I don’t know what is in the Protocols, but surely it makes that little war of yours a cheap imitation.”

The princess was instantly inflamed, her hostility overflowing in her voice. “A cheap imitation? How dare a mere civilian call the war that? Don’t you dare to insult the honour---”

“I am merely speaking the truth. Look at that bullet shell you brought; its manufacturing quality and design is at least comparable to what was made on Earth during WWI. If your technological capabilities are comparable to our own about a century ago, then surely you could have made much more deadly weapons. Instead, by the looks, you are still fighting using swords and magic. Can you really call that a war, then? Your war is little more than a martial arts tournament for the entertainment of the rich and powerful. Rich and powerful ones like you, Your Imperial Highness."

Clap.

I felt a stinging pain coming from my right cheek, and a powerful momentum that pushed me onto the ground. I lifted my head; the fiery-eyed princess, her killing intent barely suppressed, had raised her hand. She had slapped me out of frustration, I thought; just like the rich and powerful ones I met before. None of them could handle any disrespect; all they care about is honour, honour, honour. As if that could mean anything for us the commonfolk…

At least, that was what I thought.

“I don’t care if you insult me,” the princess raised her voice in anger, “but my comrades! Henry, Aston, John… they were all good men who fought for a just cause. Are you telling me they died for my entertainment? Forget about your insolence. You are barely fit to be a human for thinking so!”

Her eyebrows locked, the princess took a step back and took off her glove. Was she about to through that glove on my face and declare a duel, like those knights in old timey TV dramas? Not for her own, but for her dead comrades’ honour? That was surprising. But I merely spoke the truth, even if it was too harsh for her to handle. I would happily die on this hill, I thought; it was not like I was afraid of death to begin with…

“But my assistant was right, Claudia.” The familiar voice resonated across the room, again. “Wars in his world are incomparable to our own. Great cities can be flattened, people can evaporate into thin air, leaving behind none but tainted land and cursed water --- all in an instant. To him, the great wars between Kalumar and Vestinia must look like a child’s play. Please forgive him.”

“Your Excellency.” The princess regained her posture, looking at the Witch of the tower, who finally came down fully dressed and awake. “If that is the will of the great witch, then I would oblige.”

“I understand your frustration. My assistant is an uncouth one, who treats even his master with disrespect.” Dandelion sighed. “Still, Grey, you’ve gone too far. Apologise to Claudia at once.”

“…I apologise.” I turned to the princess and uttered those words. As simple as those words were, I tried my best to impart a silver of sincerity in them. But the princess, whose anger had not yet subsided, ignored me.

Ignoring both of us in this awkward situation, Dandelion continued to speak. “Now, part of this is my fault. It is true that guns are banned according to the Protocols, and the war isn’t as intense as it could be. But it’s also not meaningless as you imagine it to be, my assistant. You simply lack critical information.

“Should we give you a history lecture, then?”

----------------------

Earthtear was a world at war. To be precise, it had always been a world at war.

For the past two millennia, Earthtear was roughly divided into three parts: the continent of Vestlandia, the continent of Kalamaria, and the Archian Archipelago which lied between the two. Along with geographical division came the political division. Vestlandia and Kalamaria were each dominated, and had been dominated for a long time, by a superpower, while the two superpowers constantly vied for influence against each other in the Archian Archipelago with its numerous conflict zones and neutral cities, often through the force of arms.

And it was no different back then; with Vestlandia dominated by the Vestinian Empire and Kalamaria dominated by the Kalumar Republic, the two fought each other in a long and drawn-out war in the Archian Archipelago.

But what was the source of the conflict?

No one could remember what the original casus belli was. The war between the Republic and the Empire had gone on for at least five centuries; a millennium might have passed since the start of the war, if we include the predecessor polities to the Republic and the Empire. The two sides, each of them a superpower, certainly hated each other; this hatred permeated their societies, from the most powerful elites to the most common peasants.

But of course, wars never run on hatred alone.

An obvious reason would be the geopolitical and economic need to secure the resource rich Archian islands. But aside from that, the Empire and the Republic were also archnemeses of each other in terms of ideology: whereas the Republic was born from a bloody revolution, the Empire was formed through diplomacy and marriage. Whereas the Republic was a centralised state, the Empire was a patchwork of domains.

But perhaps the biggest differences between the two were their views on race and authority.

The Empire, as its name suggest, gave unlimited authority to a hereditary Emperor. The Republic, however, was a constitutional democracy led by an elected council. The Republic, to inspire unity and patriotism, prioritises the rights of humans at the expense of those of elves, dwarfs and beastmen; the Empire, to harness loyalty from its diverse subjects, enshrined the rights of the minority in its laws and traditions, so much so that the minorities were an undisputable part of the Imperial family: the princess, for example, inherited her long ears from her elf mother.

The two nations, like oil and water, had every reason to fight each other. With their power roughly matching each other’s, the two fought intense wars for centuries, interrupted by truces and armistices. But intense warfare always followed brief periods of peace --- until three hundred years ago.

The war left both powers devastated and exhausted. Worried that the war could destroy both nations, powerful third parties negotiated treaties that sought to regulate the war. On grounds that if flames of war cannot be extinguished, they must be controlled, the treaties --- called the Vertian Protocols --- confined the war to the Archian Archipelago, assured the security of neutral entities, and laid out detailed regulations for weaponry allowed in the war. With heavy regulations and restrictions, the war gradually became a low-intensity conflict that continued to that day.

But what was in the princess’s hand could very well incite the flames of war again: it was a large calibre shell, and the banned firearm that might have fired it.