I Am Being Mistaken for a Genius Strategist

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“Damn it. I almost choked while sipping my tea. Wasn’t this just supposed to be a fan meeting?”

I never expected to be dragged into national affairs so quickly, and once again at that.

Moreover, this isn’t even a battlefield. Yet, here I am, stuck in such a situation!

The Menwa Tribe. Ultra-radicals. Just hearing their name gives me an instant headache.

I could overlook internal affairs, but this involves foreign countries beyond our borders.

You should handle your own issues; why come to me for help?!

“Please don’t feel too burdened, Prince Kael. This is merely my personal sentiment—as Charlua Estania.”

When you insist it’s not a burden but then give me that look, who wouldn’t feel the pressure?

No matter how much you emphasize it’s ‘personal,’ it still feels uncomfortable.

“…I was wondering why the Nobogord delegation seemed so rushed, and it turns out they came with ulterior motives.”

I could never have imagined they’d set up a triple-layered disguise.

Superficially, they were sent to celebrate the Empire’s victory.

However, everyone in the Empire suspected that Nobogord had hidden intentions.

It’s likely to assess the internal conditions of the Empire post-Eastern conflict.

And Nobogord used that as a smokescreen for their actual aim.

“By now, the delegation’s representative must have privately reported to the Emperor of the Empire,”

“Are they ignoring the esteemed officials of the Empire?”

“Please understand, Your Highness the Princess. If this news were to be made public within the Empire, it would surely sour the atmosphere.”

“That’s—”

“From the Empire’s standpoint, the Eastern conflict has only just concluded. Isn’t it too burdensome to raise another large army?”

“…!”

Charlua, you said? That demon woman is sharper than I thought.

It’s no wonder she’s the only daughter of the chairwoman of the council.

She reminds everyone of what they had momentarily forgotten while intoxicated by the Empire’s victory.

The Imperial Legion is an invincible army. Although they’ve lost battles in the past, they have never been defeated in war.

Wherever they go, they plant the flag of the Empire’s victory, sharing in that glory.

The problem is, being such a mighty Imperial Legion means they’re bound to be an insatiable money pit.

“Nobogord delivering news so secretly and my personal request are for quite similar reasons. Either side tends to panic or faces difficulties. I don’t want the tower of peace we’ve built to collapse for such reasons.”

Listening to Charlua’s unexpected actions, I feel both incredulous and somewhat understanding.

Now that the moderates have seized power in the council, provoking friction with the Empire is literally self-destructive.

Moreover, raising armies to eliminate the ultra-radicals poses significant internal and external problems.

It’s not just about raising the Empire’s guard; that’s merely the tip of the iceberg of their worries.

The use of force could give the suppressed radicals a reason to rise again.

The situation is quite similar for the Empire. They weren’t purged; they were simply pushed back.

Therefore, the moderates shouldn’t be the ones to strike down a faction of the radicals.

Other factions besides the moderates and the neutral party must step in to suppress the ultra-radicals.

Charlua is likely seeking advice precisely for that matter.

‘The problem is, why is it me that has to deal with this? We have an Emperor, a Crown Princess, and even plenty of Foreign Ministry officials! Why me!!’

“…Miss Charlua believes that only Prince Kael can offer answers to that?”

“The other members of the delegation will seek assistance from other directions. Perhaps the Imperial Ministry of Foreign Affairs or elsewhere. But I thought of Kael Clausewitz first.”

Both the Crown Princess and I fell silent, merely fiddling with our teacups.

A personal request. I want to avoid any words like ‘foreign intervention’ or ‘permission granted’ slipping out.

Good grief, what a painfully challenging problem to drop on me. Truly dastardly, just like a demon!

“Miss Charlua.”

“Yes, Prince Kael.”

“Please tell me more about the Menwa Tribe.”

Charlua nodded and began explaining about the Menwa Tribe.

“As I mentioned, they are the most extreme radical tribe among the various tribes of Nobogord. They are the ones who always advocate for a confrontation with the Empire.”

“Are they receiving support from other radical factions?”

“They used to, but not anymore. Ironically, it was their intense fervor that allowed the moderates to drive out the radicals.”

So, they were the great traitors who laid the groundwork for a reversal.

That’s somewhat of a silver lining. I was expecting them to be backed by the radicals.

This situation poses a problem not only for the moderates but for the radicals themselves.

“Now that they’ve sent a delegation, they’ve become even more sharp-edged. They’ve even broken the lion’s rest.”

“Hmm. Disturbing graves is something that would be condemned universally, right?”

“True, but the Menwa tribe is quite extensive.”

In other words, they’ve fallen on hard times but are still rich enough to hold on for three years?

They’re quite a nuisance but also present a very palpable opportunity.

Listening to Charlua’s explanation, I could deeply sense the seriousness of the situation.

The Eastern conflict merely wrapped up just two weeks ago.

Although there was a victory for the Empire, it wasn’t without cost.

Both the 7th Legion and 12th Legion sustained significant losses, as did the other legions.

But the bigger issue is the astronomical military expenses incurred.

In total, five legions mobilized, nearing 100,000 troops on a grand expedition.

Just how much money did that actually require? How many supplies were consumed?

It’s impossible that it was covered solely by the Eastern region. The entire Empire had to contribute.

“Amidst all this, I heard the situation beyond the western and southern borders is dire.”

If Nobogord also causes trouble now, the Empire would once again have to march on.

The military expenses would double and internal faction disputes would reignite.

I prioritize my family’s well-being and the stability of our family above all else.

All of this hinges on the maintenance of the Empire’s stability.

That’s why I stay put and let people misunderstand me as a genius strategist.

The early end of the Eastern conflict still rings loud thanks to the chaotic borders.

Thus, it’s best for Nobogord to remain as it is.

It’s wise to avoid giving the radicals a reason to suppress the moderates.

“Still… it’s hard for me to give a direct answer at this moment. Miss Charlua, you know well that…”

“Of course, I understand. I feel heavy-hearted as if I made an unreasonable request. I previously mentioned that you shouldn’t feel burdened. This is merely a ‘personal request,’ after all.”

Heavy conversations ended there for now. Just then, Charlua suddenly took something out.

Wondering what it was, she promptly declared it a ‘gift from the Great King.’

‘…Wait a minute. Who’s gift are we talking about here?’

The Great King? If anyone in Nobogord could be referred to as the Great King, it could only be one person.

But that Great King was a demon who lived during the same era as our Great Emperor.

There’s no way the person who ascended long ago came back in a dream to deliver a gift or something.

So I continued to watch as Charlua placed something on the table.

“This is…”

“It’s a blessing bestowed by the Great King upon Nobogord.”

“Have a taste,” she suggested, producing none other than a potato.

To be more precise, it was thinly sliced, deep-fried and sprinkled with cheese—potato chips!

Only then did I understand why it was called a ‘gift from the Great King.’

“Aha. Now that I think about it, the Great King of Nobogord introduced a potato variety that could grow well even in the harsh northern lands long ago.”

“Your Highness the Princess knows quite a bit. That’s right. Beyond the North Sea, we have whales, and beneath the northern grounds, we have potatoes. We demons call these the gifts from the Great King.”

Just a potato labeled a ‘gift from the Great King’? It may sound underwhelming.

However, this potato was not just any potato at all.

It was resistant to pests, thrived in any land, and the tubers were quite substantial.

Even in the challenging northern climate, they grew exceptionally well no matter where they were planted.

It’s no wonder the demons named it after someone they revered the most.

‘And this deep-fried version sprinkled with cheese… it’s just potato chips, isn’t it?’

Oh my. I never expected the creator of this world’s snacks would belong to the demon realm!

Why has this delicious snack not been imported into the Empire?

“This is… better than I thought?”

The Crown Princess also seemed quite taken with these world-class potato chips—Nobogord’s specialty.

It seems the Empire has inadvertently overlooked Nobogord, leading to such delicacies remaining scarce.

Ah, what a revelation! These potato chips are truly a universal delight!

“Fufufu. I’m relieved you both like it. The Great King would be pleased, too.”

“You seem to hold a deep respect for the Great King.”

“It’s akin to how the Empire regards the Great Emperor. Sometimes through sheer force, sometimes through gentle words, he was the very first person to unite the busy and warlike demons.”

Just as one cannot discuss the Empire without mentioning the Great Emperor, one cannot speak of demons or Nobogord without mentioning the Great King—it’s something I remember reading in a book.

In the early days of the founding, the Great Emperor forged a treaty with the Great King of Saxon to stabilize the north and turn his gaze elsewhere.

This allowed for the relatively worry-free conquest of many kingdoms in the East and South.

Meanwhile, the Great King of Saxon poured his energy into uniting the demons through both strength and diplomacy.

‘It’s quite amusing when you think back on it.’

The Great King, whom the demons revered, was rather moderate in his dealings.

While he didn’t bow to the Empire entirely, he was always ready to collaborate.

He certainly never spoke of ultra-radicals or surprise attacks against the Empire, as far as I can recall.

How did the demons, who once pursued profit, become so proud today?

As if they didn’t understand that a proper confrontation with the Empire would likely result in the destruction of Nobogord.

I ponder if residing in such a snowy, cold place leads people to develop this way.

Let me think—based on memories from my past life, what kind of environment is similar? Perhaps a country obsessed with vodka?

Or those roaring about Valhalla while wandering around?

Here, they have individuals who would chew on potatoes and whale meat without flinching in combat.

What would the Great King of Saxon think if he saw the relations he maintained with the Empire?

“…Oh.”

“Wait a second.”

“Miss Charlua.”

“Yes, Prince Kael. Please speak.”

“Regarding the Menwa Tribe, you mentioned they disturbed a grave this time.”

“Yes, they played an important role in the Empire’s cooperation. They would be regarded as notable figures in Nobogord.”

“Yet they still dared to disturb a grave.”

At my question, Charlua forced a smile.

It seems that such extreme radicals are plentiful enough to be troublesome.

Moreover, other radicals stand by quietly, making matters worse.

“While moderates control the council and politics, they haven’t yet seized the public sentiment.”

“Alright, Miss Charlua. Then prepare yourself.”

“Eh? What preparations are you talking about…?”

“Did you not come seeking advice? You should be ready to take notes.”

How dare they disturb a tomb? How dare they disrupt the rest of the dead?

Although it’s merely a memory from my past life, this is indeed provoking the spirits!

“Let’s do this. If we collaborate with the Empire, we can spread the whisper that some ultra-radicals among the ones who hate the Empire have foolishly dared to lay hands on the Great King’s tomb!”