Chapter 181
Here's the translation without asterisks:
"I appreciate this, Liberta."
"Not at all, I acted of my own accord."
"Just seeing that fool's face made it worth setting up this negotiation table."
This summons was to align the demands between Lady Esmeralda and the other party regarding their duel.
The participants were His Grace the Duke and Lady Esmeralda, while the other side apparently sent their idiot son and Shin.
Though it was rude for the family head not to appear himself, His Grace was in high spirits after thoroughly defeating some greenhorn kid in arguments and securing extremely favorable terms.
"Was it that significant?"
"Yes. Despite being wide-eyed during negotiations, he kept looking at Esmeralda repeatedly."
Moreover, with the magic-modified items I prepared and the maids' enhancements, Lady Esmeralda's beauty now shone like a celestial maiden, captivating all regardless of gender. Every soldier and servant who saw her was enchanted, making it clear this was the caliber of the former fiancée he'd discarded.
"Was he regretting it?"
"Indeed. Though he tried desperately to hide it, he must have been filled with regret inside."
It seems our little revenge was a resounding success.
"What about the main negotiation terms?"
"They demanded that if they win the duel, all current matters be dismissed without question."
"Well, that's reasonable—it's about all they could ask for."
"Exactly as expected. But if we lose here, it would truly stain the Edelgard ducal family's honor. We absolutely cannot lose."
"Indeed. By the way, I've done my best to train Nel for human combat—she should be ready."
"I've heard the reports. Not a single one of my soldiers could defeat her. If this gets out, it'll be disgraceful in another way."
I'd have liked to see that myself, but since there's someone on their side I'd rather avoid, I hope His Grace enters the negotiations fully prepared.
The location, attendees, and security—with that mad jester present, assassination attempts against both families during negotiations wouldn't be surprising. The guards were adequate, but frankly, they were too young.
We could pass them off as dwarves, but maintaining that disguise would be troublesome.
"Still, it was good experience for the soldiers, right?"
"True. But many lost confidence after being defeated by a girl."
"That's purely a difference in fundamental ability. Our opponent could pass as an A-rank adventurer at worst. We must prepare thoroughly."
If she keeps growing, the truth will come out, and more complications will arise—that much is predictable.
As part of parallel preparations for Nel's final training, she relentlessly sparred with other soldiers, achieving a hundred victories, which His Grace lamented, but I hope he understands.
"Given organizational relations, we can't exactly choose Claudiah from the church as our proxy duelist, can we?"
"No, we cannot."
Had it been Claudiah, the ducal family's dignity might have been preserved. Unfortunately, it's Nel, a fox girl.
For grown soldiers training daily to be crushed by a girl must have been quite a shock.
"Some... no, all the soldiers from the recent expedition have petitioned for you to train them. After seeing Nel fight, the sentiment has spread."
"That's impossible."
"I thought as much. I never expected approval either."
But some soldiers, having witnessed the battle with General Locust, are motivated to grow stronger. If a girl can become strong, surely adult men can too—that's their drive. Some are so fired up they're petitioning their superiors, but I'd rather not be involved.
"I already have enough trouble with a certain someone."
"...Do you really think he's here?"
"Given his penchant for stirring chaos, his absence would be more surprising."
Regarding Ares, I've informed His Grace. It's speculative, with no concrete evidence, but the circumstantial evidence is compelling. He's almost certainly here. Keeping such certain information quiet would cause more trouble later.
His Grace frowns and sighs.
"Knowing that, this duel is folly, yet unavoidable."
As nobles, they must accept duels with full commitment—to refuse is seen as cowardice. Similarly, tainting a duel is taboo. Hence, pre-duel negotiations to set terms.
Though it's mostly just stating demands, then signing before witnesses. If terms are unbalanced, negotiations adjust them—that's the custom.
"Being a noble sounds exhausting."
"Indeed. But we've extracted all we can."
Here, the fault lies entirely with the other side. At most, we can demand exoneration—already quite brazen, but permissible in an honor duel between houses.
There are no draws. The winner's demands are met; the loser accepts any terms. They challenged the Edelgard Duke, prepared to swallow any consequence.
"May I ask what we demanded?"
"Nothing major. Rights to one of their eastern continent trade ports, and permanent exile of their brats from the southern and eastern continents. Initially, we asked for their heads, but settled for a port given the proxy negotiator was just a boy."
"A port? That must hurt their house badly."
"Indeed, it does."
The cost to them was steep.
"And not some fishing village port?"
"One of the four major trade ports on the eastern continent. Hah! Gaining that would ruin their reputation. Their family seal is already on the agreement—no room for excuses."
To stake something so crucial, believing they'd win—what fools. If they lose, their own family might demand their heads.
His Grace smiles wickedly, viewing the duel with cautious optimism. Seizing rights is such a noble thing to do.
"Why didn't their family head come? After such a blunder, you'd think they'd disown him."
I can't comprehend the spoiled brat's logic. Were I a noble with such a son, I'd have disowned him already.
"Hmph. It's because he bears horns. On the eastern continent, horns symbolize nobility—not all noble children are born with them, and those without aren't recognized as nobles. Hence, horned sons are treasured."
"Ah."
But that's human convention. The eastern continent has its own rules.
I recall this from quest events—the trope of the incompetent horned heir versus the competent hornless sibling causing family strife. The ex-fiancé must be one such case.
"Isn't that excessive?"
But normally, anyone would see it's foolish. Even with Ares as a trump card, losing is possible. To me, he's an unpredictable liability. Trusting him fully is recklessness.
"Liberta."
"Yes?"
Staking a nationally crucial port is madness.
"In this country—no, this world—such cost-benefit analysis is rare."
"Eh?"
"Status supremacy... it's odd for me, a noble, to say this, but it's created a warped political system."
His Grace nods at my confusion, agreeing despite it undermining noble authority. What follows challenges what I'd accepted as FBO's worldbuilding.
"Levels are tangible power. Higher classes are stronger—this is divine providence."
"Yes."
"And strength comes from experience. Even craftsmen can grow somewhat strong."
"Right."
In level-based VRMMORPGs, level equals strength—basic info.
"But slaying monsters is the fastest path. Danger accelerates growth—the gods ordained this world's logic."
"True."
Study or crafting grants EXP, but monster hunting is most efficient.
"The issue—if you can call it that—is this efficiency breeds the belief that monster slayers are superior."
Hmm? The tone shifts.
"God's most efficient method. Thus, those who fight and level are deemed greater—a global trend."
"Really?"
His Grace frowns, helpless.
"Who then steers nations?"
"...Don't tell me."
Higher-level individuals commanding lower-level ones. Specifically, those who studied governance but fought less are subordinate to those who neglected study but grew strong through combat.
So this world is ruled by brawn over brains. The players accepted this as game lore—verification videos touched on politics only superficially, as it rarely affected quests.
"My faction fares better. Others are worse—nobles with high levels but no knowledge rely on low-level experts to barely manage affairs."
Compared to Japan, we accepted this as fantasy worldbuilding. Critiquing it would break immersion—games are fun when you embrace their logic.
But hearing His Grace, it clicks. The system makes sense, yet is clearly flawed.
"Is it barely functioning?"
This explains why the Duke turns dark in FBO's story after losing his daughter and wife.
"At least the eastern, western, and northern dukes exploit this to control people. Such ideology is convenient for manipulation."
"All is this world's flawed logic!! I'll overturn it by any means necessary!!"
His despairing face flashes in my mind. Now, he's calm, spending time with me. I wish it could stay this way.
So I find myself wondering—is there no way to change this?