The Medieval-Modern Man with a Gamer Mindset

3. A Bold Move

In front of the office where Prince Aeselton resides, Edwina approached the door and, with a polite demeanor, opened her mouth to speak.

“Your Highness, I will knock now.”

“Ah. Go ahead.”

“I’m really going to knock.”

“Edwina. Shall I do it instead?”

“…No. I will do it.”

The statement ‘If you won’t, I will’ held power even here. Edwina fidgeted with her fingertips, bit her lower lip slightly, then took a deep breath. Only then could she finally muster the courage to knock.

Knock knock.

I intently watched Edwina’s back.

“Will you be able to hear with that?”

“….”

“Try a bit louder.”

It seems she couldn’t bring herself to increase the volume of her knock. Instead of knocking louder, Edwina chose to open her mouth slightly and make a sound. Her eyes, like beads, were rolling restlessly, alternating between looking at the office door and me.

“Your Majesty, His Highness wishes to see you.”

My father, Prince Aeselton, responded with a cool voice.

“Come in.”

“Your Highness, then I shall take my leave.”

“Bring the maid as well.”

Edwina suddenly stopped moving. Her expression remained indifferent, but her complexion turned deathly pale.

Her pink lips trembled, indicating she was incredibly nervous. Indeed, meeting someone of high status is always an uncomfortable affair. I comforted Edwina, who was shivering like a duckling thrown into a storm.

“Don’t worry. Father won’t be paying attention to you.”

“Your Highness…”

Warmth returned to Edwina’s face, which had been growing cold. A gentle moisture gathered in her bead-like eyes.

“He’ll be too busy being angry with me to spare you a thought.”

“Master!”

Like a drop of water flung onto the sands of the desert, I had dried up in an instant. Yet, the gloomy atmosphere had lifted. Pushing Edwina behind me, I swung open the door to the office.

The first impression was… smaller than expected?

As I entered through the door, I found myself in a small room with several windows. Bright and clean natural light streamed through the bars, illuminating the interior. Thanks to this, the neatly and stylishly crafted furniture seemed to soak up the sunlight, creating a radiant atmosphere.

In the center of it all was a desk, atop which lay an extinguished candle, a long piece of charcoal, and stacks of tough paper, all neatly arranged.

Prince Aeselton let out a small sigh and set down the charcoal he was holding.

“Narba. I’ve come because there’s something I need to discuss.”

The prince tried to maintain a robust appearance, but it was futile. It was not the sigh but the gaze that was more problematic. The eyes that should have greeted the visitor with a firm and resolute attitude were sneakily looking elsewhere.

He must have guessed why I had come. It wasn’t that the body’s owner hadn’t heard the rumors. It was just that he hadn’t gone around on foot to hear them from those nearby.

It was clear that Prince Aeselton knew this marriage proposal was not a normal case.

“Your Highness, since you’ve questioned my noble responsibility, I shall duly fulfill it.”

“Is that so?”

“But please give me a valid reason. The reason why you’re rushing this marriage proposal as if you’re selling off your youngest son.”

“That’s none of your business.”

The response that came back was chillingly cold, enough to make Edwina, who had followed, flinch. Hmm. It was somewhat the answer I had expected. What would a twelve-year-old child understand, after all?

In medieval times, children were not considered subjects of persuasion. But I was confident I wouldn’t lose out in stubbornness.

“Then I shall split the belly.”

“What?”

“I’m talking about the daughter of Yubas. After we’re married, as her husband, don’t I have the right to check if she has remained chaste? If I split her open, I’ll know whether the rumors are true or not.”

“Are you out of your mind? To do such a thing to Yubas’s daughter?”

“If Your Highness cannot persuade me, then I will find the evidence to convince myself.”

The provocation was very successful. Prince Aeselton was not a man weak enough to forgive his child’s brutality. The eyes that had been looking far away began to burn fiercely in my direction.

“How dare you threaten your father!”

“It’s Yubas who is threatening. Is this marriage proposal a show of force?”

It was indeed a critical situation. Prince Aeselton pushed his chair back and stood up, ready to unbuckle his belt at any moment. He was probably thinking of using it as a whip instead of his hand.

But it seemed he hated Yubas, who made such unworthy demands, more than his insolent son. The prince’s face, which had been red with anger, turned pale. He collapsed onto the chair as if falling.

“There’s not only loss in this. Even though they act dishonorably, there is indeed something to gain.”

“That’s something you need to explain to me, Father.”

“Do you think you can understand?”

“I just want to share a bit of your burden, Father.”

—

A guy who occasionally shows beauty after being hateful is more admirable than one who only does pretty things. After a moment of hesitation, Prince Aeselton spoke in a subdued voice, sharing various things. Of course, there was no feeling of an actual exchange.

Prince Aeselton’s story felt less like a clear opinion and more like a complaint.

But when the prince’s lengthy grievance was over, I could come to a conclusion.

“This marriage alliance must be annulled.”

Not because I don’t want to take responsibility, but for strategic reasons.

***

I mistook possession for a dream because of the game I usually played.

Fantasy Monarch.

A game that cleverly dodges criticism by adding a touch of fantasy to a medieval history simulation. It was a truly wise attitude. Among the many game developers recently, these guys would be the best at making excuses.

In the face of recent controversies sweeping the gaming world, some argue about ‘historical authenticity’ and complain about its lack, while others invoke ‘fantasy’ to counter. To users blaming the game’s completeness, the response was ‘then quit the game.’

Sadly and frustratingly, there was no substitute for Fantasy Monarch.

Fantasy Monarch is an RPG-heavy, self-proclaimed strategy game where the player becomes a lord in a medieval European fantasy world and does various things. Clearly, no capital or company wanted to invest in a game that only a limited audience would enjoy.

Instead, it gained a cult following because it made its players engage in cunning schemes and tricks. The essence of this was maximized in multiplayer. Users trained against the bound AI in single-player now faced each other on a stage of pure malice.

From the perspective of someone who has stepped into that place, Yubas was a very villainous guy.

“Yubas is not only using us as a shield but also trying to take away our family’s honor and lineage.”

“…Do you have a reason to believe so?”

“If you allow, I would like to explain with a map.”

“Go ahead.”

The map was at the very bottom of a stack of tough paper. Of course, compared to modern maps, it was crude. No contour lines, proper symbols, or even measurements, the coastlines were blunt, and without a scale, it was a mess.

It was good enough to reference where things roughly were. Despite many flaws, it wasn’t problematic for explaining.

“Surrounding Yubas, there are four duchies including ours. Each force is small, but each is an old and prestigious family deeply rooted. The local faith and centuries-old family connections are assets Yubas does not possess.”

As is typical of elite groups, the nobility takes pride in being different. They are not open enough to warmly welcome unknown upstarts. Naturally, the local noble cartel thoroughly excluded Yubas.

“However, we are not receiving support from the other duchies. This is not for any other reason but because Yubas has targeted us specifically, intimidating us with his formidable military force.”

It’s more effective to target one rather than many at once. It’s a valid method when facing an alliance that has not yet united. A gang formed out of fear of a solo run tends to watch idly, reassured by the thought that only one will be attacked.

Prince Aeselton seemed to feel this painfully, as he washed his face with dry hands.

“Narba. The honor among nobles is ultimately just a facade. It’s a mirage that disperses quickly when someone bares their teeth.”

“What if this is a strategy to sow discord?”

“…Discord?”

Yubas is a capable man. To surpass the existing families that have thrived on their ancestors’ legacy, he had to be far more superior, whether in strength or cunning.

“It’s natural to target the weaker side rather than confront a powerful enemy head-on. If Yubas raises an army to subdue the duchies that do not recognize him, what will become of us?”

—

Having said this much, it seems that even Prince Aeseolteon has come to a realization.

One does not harbor animosity towards an overwhelmingly strong opponent. Instead, it’s the one clanging by your side that becomes more detestable. Just as the saying goes, a meddling sister-in-law is more annoying than a mother-in-law.

When Yubas sets out for a full-scale conquest, the anger directed at Yubas will turn towards us. And Yubas, rather than dispersing his forces, will quietly observe as he takes a beating.

“I understand your concerns. But they are unnecessary worries. Even if there are suspicious rumors circulating, Yubas is also a corner of the nobility. It’s unlikely that he would not assist the alliance…”

“There’s more to gain by not helping than by helping. There’s no need for that.”

What Yubas’s ultimate goal is, I do not know. What’s important is his intent to expand. Whether they will devour everything or simply enshrine and end it moderately, the intentions behind this marriage proposal are crystal clear.

“I wish for the death of my father, brothers, and nephews, or at least for them to dawdle until such a time comes. Or perhaps for them to fall from grace. They might even prefer the country to crumble once. For then, they could swallow it whole in one bite, using me, who is tied to their daughter.”

“…Surely not to such an extent.”

Despite saying so, he seems quite shocked. Prince Aeseolteon, while doubting, twists his eyebrows as he rests his chin on his hand. Now is the opportunity. I decided to drive the final nail here.

“The reason they’ve attached a pregnant woman to you must be because of that.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Should I die suddenly before seeing my child, they must prepare a child in advance to claim legitimate rights.”

-In the world of Fantasy Monarch, raising an army doesn’t mean you can conquer mindlessly.

One must have a right to the land, or a grand cause, to conquer. Only then will the local people quietly welcome the new ruler. Thus, the players pondered how to obtain a just cause.

And the method they came up with was utterly ruthless.

In a society where monogamy is the norm and illegitimate children are considered sinful, a user was troubled by his daughter who got pregnant before marriage. He found an innovative solution.

[I’ll marry her off to the landowner’s child I’m eyeing, cuckoo them, and then claim the rights through that child!]

First, take the land in the name of the cuckoo. Next? Claim the land while citing guardianship. If they resist, since they’re not my blood anyway, I’ll gladly chop off their heads.

It’s a strategy that protects the family’s honor, increases land and wealth, and marries off the daughter—a three-birds-with-one-stone ruse.

Upon hearing the full extent of the plan I surmised, Prince Aeseolteon sighed.

“Narba. Even if what you say is true, if we refuse, Yubas will consider it an insult to his honor and will invade.”

Such is the sorrow of a powerless nation. Prince Aeseolteon, with a pained expression, hung his head and let out a groan. It must feel utterly hopeless. However, there is a fatal flaw in this method.

I conveyed this fact to Prince Aeseolteon, who seemed far removed from schemes and plots.

“As it’s a sophisticated and grand ruse, it’s easy to disrupt. If we can simply induce a broken engagement, the scheme falls apart easily.”

“Yubas knows this fact and will interfere, but how…”

Prince Aeseolteon’s worry is valid. Those types won’t break off an engagement easily. They’ve put so much into it, they’ll desperately try to prevent a breakup.

But the success of a conspiracy lies in its swiftness and being unreadable. Since it requires a long time and has become predictable, thwarting this scheme is truly an easy task.

“I have a trump card. I can gauge who the child in the womb belongs to and induce a breakup. However, it seems we cannot avoid going through with the marriage.”

“…”

I looked at the worried Prince Aeseolteon and smiled confidently. Fortunately, it seemed that Prince Aeseolteon was deeply impressed by my thoughts and arguments.

“I thought she was just frolicking with a bright smile.”

“…”

The fact that the body’s owner was playing leaves me speechless…

“However, to deceive even a father to such an extent shows a deep cunning. Do as you will. If you need help, you may use my name.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“It would be better to call me ‘father.’ If a lowly noble dared to act so insolently towards me, I would have his head.”

“Yes, father.”

He immediately changed the way he addressed him. Then, Prince Aeselton lifted the corners of his mouth and nodded his head.

“How sly.”

***

Only after stepping out of the office did Edwina, who had been mute, speak again.

“Your Highness, honestly, I was really surprised.”

“Didn’t I tell you? He’d be too busy being angry at me to pay attention to you.”

His body may be like this, but his heart is that of a man. He keeps his word as much as possible. He learned not to use the word ‘definitely’ lightly. As he shrugged his shoulders confidently, Edwina’s eyes, like beads, gently closed.

“Your Highness’s insight, and the confidence to express your opinions boldly before His Majesty.”

It was the moment a faint smile settled on Edwina’s blunt face. With a slightly trembling voice, she threw a teasing remark.

“The strong move you mentioned, Your Highness, I trust you’re not really going to split the belly.”

“Ha-ha, why would I split the belly.”

As if a mother and child are to blame, to be thrown in front of a medieval surgical blade, sticky with flesh. Edwina, now that I see it, your thoughts are somewhat eerie.

And there was the most important reason.

“If you split the belly, it leads to war.”

“Excuse me?”

“Huh?”

The response was a bit strange. Looking at Edwina, she had already turned her head far away.