Chapter 14: Border Conflict

“Alright, next on the agenda is how to secure funds and arms from external allies. Let’s hear everyone’s thoughts.”

One had to admit, the talents left behind by Maxim were somewhat resourceful.

Someone suggested mortgaging the duchy’s mineral resources to obtain loans from the high nobility in the imperial capital.

Another proposed borrowing money from the Berlia family’s in-laws—Andrei’s mother’s maiden family.

There was even a subtle, if unspoken, suggestion to arrange a political marriage—well, basically to have one of the Berlia family’s prime studs sell his charms, since the proposed match was old enough to be Andrei’s mother.

Zhang Shan was so angry he nearly wanted to throw the guy out the window.

He slammed the table and said, “Those paupers in the imperial capital don’t have a dime. If we’re going to get funds, we should go to those with real money—no borrowing from the poor!”

“Your Highness, did you just say ‘rob’?” someone asked.

But that was truly Rasian spirit.

Only the ruthless survive among the world’s nations.

If you’re not fierce, you won’t stand firm.

The Rasian Empire’s rise from a small duchy to a colossal state spanning over twenty million square kilometers was no accident.

In this new circle, everyone deliberately ignored Zhang Shan’s slip of the tongue.

They were more curious to see what profound ideas this prince—previously known only for his womanizing—might offer.

As is well known, the Rasian Empire teetered repeatedly on the brink of bankruptcy. This wasn’t slander; the previous emperor, Ivan XVI, had thoroughly ruined the country—losing the last world war, ceding territory and paying reparations, failing to provide pensions for soldiers, and attempting to purge the high nobility, which ultimately sparked civil war.

The seven great electors may have won, but it was a hollow victory. The new imperial ruble’s exchange rate was one to ten thousand compared to the old one. This alone revealed the dire state of the empire’s finances. The old ruble wasn’t quite at the point where fifty thousand would buy a loaf of bread, but it was close enough.

Annual reparations had to be paid. Though the sum wasn’t enormous—the front wasn’t a total disaster—squeezing the budget to repay debts made every Rasian noble quite miserable.

Some noble families certainly had wealth, but why would they lend money to the Berlia family?

Moreover, the empire’s western border faced an increasingly aggressive Asgard Empire.

“We’ll demand support from Asgard, Britannia, and Arica,” the prince declared.

Anna keenly noticed that the prince said “demand,” not “borrow.”

Regardless, after a private discussion with Zhang Shan, three envoys prepared overnight and took off early the next morning. Each had a daunting task; just enduring the long flights spanning tens of thousands of kilometers nearly to the other side of the planet was a trial.

Bearing the fate of the entire Far East region and the trust of their new master, Prince Andrei, they were energized.

Meanwhile, news broke that Yamato had suddenly launched multi-pronged attacks on the Rasian Empire’s Far East territories. Like wings, the news sped through telegraphs and telephones to countries worldwide.

The most excited, naturally, was the southern nation of Sairis.

As a country devastated by Yamato’s relentless assaults, losing half their lands over nearly a year, this news was a veritable godsend.

“Haha! Fantastic! Those idiots in Yamato actually dared to provoke Rasian!”

“Wait for the Rasian to crush them into dust!”

“I heard Rasian forces have been weak lately. Could they lose to Yamato?”

“Impossible. Rasian is an old great power.”

As Sairians, they hoped a strong country would share the burden of firepower. If Rasian suddenly rose and crippled Yamato, Sairis could reclaim lost lands.

Among the great powers, reactions varied.

First, Emperor Constantine XVIII of Rasian. Though his nation was attacked, his initial reaction upon hearing the news in the summer palace was laughter.

“Hahaha! That old Vladimir finally got his comeuppance. Forced to choose that stallion as heir,” the emperor gloated. The Rasian nobility all knew that during the election of the seven great electors, the Duke of Berlia had supported another candidate.

The political divisions from that factionalism were difficult to reconcile without new developments.

Moreover, the imperial capital was nearly nine thousand kilometers from the Berlia family’s stronghold, rendering the emperor’s influence over the Barovsk frontier region virtually nonexistent.

This greatly displeased the emperor.

“Order this: if a Berliasvky family envoy arrives, find an excuse to deny him entry. I want that stallion kneeling at my palace gates for a full day and night before I consider an audience.”

“There’s so much worthless land in the Far East; losing some of it doesn’t matter,” he added, as one of his most trusted ministers, Duke Yurovsky, asked, “Your Majesty, what is your bottom line?”

“Make his family swear eternal loyalty to mine.”

“Your will shall be conveyed to the humble Berliasvky family.”

In fact, the emperor’s reaction was already noted by the Yamato.

No declaration of war meant that if one was declared, it would be an all-out fight with the entire Rasian Empire, and the emperor would have to personally intervene, dispatching large armies to support the Berlia family.

As long as war was avoided, the emperor was happy to watch his political enemies suffer.

Conversely, even if Yamato crushed the Berlia family, as long as it wasn’t humiliatingly bad, the emperor would likely turn a blind eye.

At the same time, General Honda, commander of Yamato’s Northern Border Army, slapped Colonel Yamasan hard across the face.

“Baka! Are you an idiot? You lost two battalions attacking a mere Lanud, and let the Rasian capture nearly a thousand of our men! You’ve disgraced the empire.”

Yamasan dared not argue, bowing his head in apology.

“I am still investigating. Once I find that scoundrel Okamoto, I will make him commit seppuku.”

“Hmph! A minor setback is just an accident. We must swiftly crush the Berlia family. Their new head is just a kid with no experience. If we pressure him enough, he’ll piss himself and beg our emperor for mercy. Then our Northern Border Army will gain fame.”

After dismissing Yamasan, Honda called his adjutant.

“What’s the emperor’s reaction?”

“He summoned our ambassador and scolded him. The latest report defines the matter as a ‘border conflict’ for now.”

Honda laughed. “That’s more like it! Before winter, we’ll break through all of Barovsk!”

In a sense, the enemy’s invasion combined with the emperor’s connivance and betrayal had pushed the Far East’s situation to unprecedented severity.