Chapter 4
Ian, an 8th-tier mage, had no particular thoughts even after receiving the final ultimatum.
'A normal human can't beat a mage.'
He didn't think those lowly money-grubbers could possibly defy the absolute law handed down since the age of the imperial founding ancestors a thousand years ago.
"What can those southern bastards do?"
In a way, it was only natural.
In the medieval-to-early-modern era, when scientific progress was slow, mages who could do anything with a wave of the hand were truly, truly precious.
Wherever he went, he was treated like an honored guest as an 8th-tier mage. Even renowned nobles bowed their heads, and commoners could not even meet his eyes.
A first-class citizen chosen by heaven.
Inferior humans who cannot even wield magic cannot beat him.
Ian believed that.
Until the Dreadnought spat fire.
Kugugugugung-!
A flare flashed beyond the horizon, and a tremendous boom followed.
A sound like heaven and earth collapsing. A roar that made the air tremble and pounded against the heart.
"Hiiik!?"
At a sound that stirred the primal fear embedded in human beings from the beginning of time, Ian forgot his dignity and stumbled backward.
Then, before the eyes of Ian, who had been watching the battle from the highest spire, an unbelievable sight unfolded.
Eight shells burst, scattering red flashes. Half a beat later, an indescribably tremendous explosion hammered his eardrums.
Faced with the shockwave that came surging in one after another, Ian's body shook like a sheet of paper. As Ian staggered wildly and fell to the floor, the shields he and his fellow mages had cast began to collapse.
Ian lay there on the floor and stared blankly up at the sky.
"Th, this is impossible..."
Even while seeing it with his own eyes, he could not accept what was happening.
It was a magic circle cast together by no fewer than two 7th-tier mages and one 8th-tier mage.
It was a defense that even bringing in one of the Empire's five 9th-tier mages couldn't have broken. How on earth?
But there was no room to think about that.
If he stayed dazed, it was obvious the next target would be the fortress.
Ian staggered to his feet.
"In any case, there's no way they can keep launching such monstrous attacks one after another."
So let's restore the shield quickly.
And then gather our firepower and sink those bastards to the bottom of the sea.
Thinking that, Ian raised his staff-
Kugugugung-!
A flash of fire burst once more near the horizon.
For the first time in his life, fear took root in the heart of the mage Ian.
Thunk-
His trembling hand let go of the staff he cherished. Even so, he didn't even think of picking it up again.
Ian, an 8th-tier mage.
He was the closest thing to a 9th-tier mage.
So he knew that even a 9th-tier mage, called a transcendent being, could not use magic of that power at that speed.
"H, haha..."
As the orange shell cut across the dawn sky, Ian stared blankly upward.
A power that transcended human strength.
Because before the authority of a god, there was nothing he, a mere mage, could do.
"S-save..."
Before Ian could even finish his words, flames engulfed the fortress.
***
"Ta, impact confirmed... Second shell, hit!"
The lookout reported in a trembling voice.
It was understandable.
The fortress that had taken the Dreadnought's broadside head-on was crumbling to pieces.
As the mushroom cloud rose, the fortress's towering walls collapsed just like that. It happened so quickly it would be embarrassing even to call it 'destroyed.'
"Th... that towering fortress, like tofu..."
"It got crushed..."
Yes, perhaps it would be more accurate to say it was 'crushed.'
To the Dreadnought, designed to face a steel fleet, a stone wall was probably nothing more than easy prey.
The gunner officer's voice rang out in the silence.
"Third shell loaded!"
I looked at the fortress through my binoculars.
The smoke billowing from the fortress meant it had already lost its original shape, but I still felt it wasn't enough.
For three years, while the fortress was being built, southern merchants had had to pay to pass through it.
I had to teach them just how heavy the price was for daring to exploit our workers' blood and sweat.
Even if I had to erase the fortress itself from the map.
"Fire the third shell."
Kugugung-!
Immediately afterward, a flash lit up the dawn sea.
Beyond the rising black smoke, the ruined remains of the fortress came into view.
Everyone on the bridge watched the end of Sarsen Fortress without saying a word.
"The third shell hit!"
Rumble...
From far away, I could hear something collapsing.
It was a different kind of sound from the roar of the naval guns or the sound of shells pulverizing the fortress.
"What's that sound?"
Frowning as I asked, Lucilla, who was holding binoculars beside me, replied in a calm voice.
"It's the sound of the fortress's foundation collapsing. It seems even a solid granite base can't withstand three consecutive broadside salvos."
"Hmm..."
"That was a little excessive. For a while, overland exports through the Sarsen-Lutetia region will be impossible."
Looking through the binoculars at where Sarsen Fortress had stood, I saw a pitiful sight.
The fortress's once-magnificent appearance was gone without a trace. Where it had stood, even the ground had caved in, leaving no trace behind.
Clearly... it seemed like some time would be needed before that road could be used again.
"It's fine."
Of course, I didn't care.
I had already thought of how to deal with this situation.
"The losses we take will be made up by Count Sarsen."
"Pardon?"
Lucilla looked at me with a face that said she had no idea what I meant.
"I don't think Count Sarsen, who blew up the fortress and the mages, is going to compensate us for the damage..."
"I think so too."
Of course. In just five minutes, he'd blown away three years' worth of fortress, mages, and soldiers; there was no way he'd obediently hand over money.
It was bound to become a long, tedious negotiation.
And that's exactly what battleships are for.
"This vessel is now heading northwest."
We had more than enough fuel anyway. Sarsen was the South's front yard. It was only half a day's journey.
That meant there was no chance we'd run out of supplies just because we spent a day showing off somewhere.
I lifted a finger toward the sun and gave the order.
"Destination: the port in the center of Count Sarsen's domain. Helmsman, turn 15 degrees to port!"
"15 degrees to port!"
The helmsman echoed my order and turned the wheel.
Now it was time to go conduct some serious 'diplomacy.'
***
So far, negotiations between the Southern Grand Duke's envoys and Count Sarsen had always followed the same pattern.
If an envoy begged him to tear down the fortress, the count would listen through one ear and let it out the other.
Even if the southern side promised funding. Even if they said they would buy Sarsen grain. Even if they dangled the promise of building factories in the county, the result was always the same.
From Count Sarsen's point of view, there was no need to listen to the South's words.
Funding? Once the fortress was in place here, money would come rolling in on its own.
Grain? We made more money building the fortress than we did selling grain.
Factories? In the end, the South's bastards would be the ones running them anyway.
So Count Sarsen always gave the same answer, like a tape recorder.
He knew there was no one in the Empire who would side with the Southern Grand Duke anyway.
"In accordance with the Sarsen-Lutetia Treaty, cease construction of the fortress at once!"
"Understood. Since you put it that way, I'll consider it."
Because he kept saying only that, the southern envoy always had to return home empty-handed.
He thought the next negotiation would go the same way.
Until Sarsen Fortress was torn down right before his eyes.
Thunder rumbled beyond the horizon, and the defensive magic circle shattered at once. In the next barrage, the fortress flew apart, and the ground it stood on collapsed as well.
It took only five minutes for the fortress built over three years to disappear.
"I, impossible..."
With that one blow, the County of Sarsen lost all of its troops.
All the advantage it had held over the South until now vanished at once.
The count, staring at the fortress with a dazed expression, did not sleep properly that night.
"My lord, there's nothing visible along the coastline. You can come back into the manor now..."
"No, no! What if that bastard shows up again?"
He took a short nap in the carriage, afraid that the heavenly punishment that destroyed the fortress would fall on his manor.
Arriving at the negotiation venue in a half-mad state, the Count of Sarsen had no choice but to be shocked once more.
"Hiiik...!"
Because a giant steel monster was floating in front of Sarsen Port, where the negotiation hall was.
The Count of Sarsen's face went pale when he saw the huge naval guns aimed at the city.
"Haha, please don't worry, Count."
Standing there with his escort guards, Kyle approached the count with a friendly smile.
"This vessel has merely been deployed to deal with the reactionaries who unilaterally tore up the Sarsen-Lutetia Treaty and tried to block free trade within the Empire."
Kyle's blue eyes gazed steadily at the Count of Sarsen.
"I'm sure you're not that kind of person."
The count couldn't say a word.
He could only, dazed, be led by Kyle's hand into the negotiation hall.