Plan

After the study door closed, Calca sat alone for a long time.

The flames in the fireplace gradually weakened, their orange-red glow dimming as shadows began to swallow the corners of the room.

She did not rise to add more wood. She simply sat there quietly, replaying every word Higashino Makoto had said in her mind.

"You are too weak."

"The courage to do dirty work."

"Your people do not need a saint who never makes mistakes. They need a ruler willing to do anything for them. Even dirty things."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Then she opened them, rose to her feet, and walked over to the desk.

A parchment map lay spread across it, depicting the entirety of the Holy Kingdom.

A peninsula nation split into a U-shape by a vast bay.

The northern and southern ends were separated by the sea, connected only by land at the bottom of the bay, forming a narrow corridor.

North and south stood opposed.

This had been her greatest burden since ascending the throne, as well as her most difficult problem.

The southern nobles were wealthy and powerful, possessing vast plains and fine harbors.

The north was barren and bitterly cold, locked in constant war with demi-humans. The southern nobles looked down on the northern "bumpkins," while the northern knights looked down on the southern "spineless weaklings."

The conflict between the two regions ran deep. Every Holy King had tried to bridge the divide, yet none had succeeded.

Calca stood before the map for a long time. Then she picked up a quill and wrote several lines in the blank space on the parchment.

"Feasible plans for unifying north and south."

After writing those words, the pen tip hovered above the paper for a long while without falling.

What plans were there?

She had considered many before.

Marriage alliances, economic subsidies, joint military operations, cultural integration... but every proposal had a fatal flaw.

Marriage alliances?

Intermarriage between northern and southern nobles had never ceased, yet the conflict remained.

Economic subsidies?

What the north needed were warriors and magical support, not money.

What the south needed were trade and markets, not charity.

Joint military operations?

Command authority, supply distribution, credit for military achievements—every part of it could spark endless arguments between the northern and southern armies.

Cultural integration?

The north's rough ways were viewed as barbaric by the south, while the south's refined mannerisms were seen as hypocritical by the north.

She could not continue writing.

Calca set down the pen and rubbed her temples.

Then she suddenly recalled something Higashino Makoto had said.

"If you refuse to dirty your own hands, then you will forever be controlled by those willing to dirty theirs."

Was the root of the north-south divide truly geographical separation and cultural differences?

Or was it because...

She had never truly exercised royal authority?

When some southern nobles opposed her ascension, she had chosen patience.

When some northern knights were dissatisfied with her, she had chosen appeasement.

She had always tried to rule through "consensus," rather than authority.

But if a ruler did not even possess authority, how could she push for the unification of north and south?

Calca picked up the pen again. This time, her handwriting was firmer than before.

"Plan One: Establish a north-south coordination body directly under the Holy King. I will personally appoint its leaders, without going through the Noble Council."

She paused, then continued writing.

"Plan Two: Launch joint north-south military exercises. Under the pretext of responding to the demi-human threat, forcibly station and train northern and southern forces together."

"Plan Three..."

Her pen stopped.

She thought about the third plan for a long time before finally writing it down.

"Plan Three: Eliminate the vested interests in the north-south divide. Those nobles who used the conflict between north and south to gain power and wealth must be dealt with."

After writing it down, she stared at the word "dealt with" for a long time.

Dealt with.

The phrase sounded so light, but actually carrying it out...

Her hand trembled slightly.

This was "dirty work."

The "dirty work" Higashino Makoto had spoken of.

She knew which nobles had been secretly stirring up tensions between north and south, and she knew who had been lining their own pockets by exploiting those conflicts.

But she had never acted, because those people had power, connections, and influence.

Moving against them meant upsetting the balance of interests throughout the noble class.

But if she did not even dare to move against these people, then unifying the north and south would forever be nothing more than empty words.

Calca rolled up the parchment, tied it with a ribbon, and placed it in the corner of her desk.

Then she walked to the window and pushed it open.

The night wind blew in from the sea, carrying a salty tang. In the distance, the harbor shimmered silver-white beneath the moonlight. The vast U-shaped coastline was like a mother's arms, embracing the seawater in its bosom.

If one day the north and south could truly be united...

The Holy Queen moved faster than Higashino Makoto had imagined.

With the demi-humans of the Abelion Hills too intimidated by Higashino Makoto's previous show of force to make any rash moves for the time being, coupled with the support of the Custodio Sisters, she had truly managed to break open the situation.

The next morning, the Holy Queen's order spread through the royal capital, Hoburns, at the fastest possible speed. It was then conveyed to the nobles of the north and south through magical communication and swift riders.

The order was brief and uncompromising.

All noble territories were to dispatch no less than thirty percent of their military forces to the northern border within ten days. Any who failed to arrive by the deadline would be personally "looked into" by the Holy Queen.

The uproar this order caused in the royal capital was far smaller than Calca had expected.

Not because the nobles agreed with her decision, but because news of the demi-human mobilization had also spread.

The shadow of the previous great war had yet to fade, and the people of the borderlands were still rebuilding their homes.

If the demi-humans invaded again, no one would be able to remain untouched.

Under such circumstances, resisting a military order was tantamount to placing oneself under suspicion of "colluding with the enemy."

No one dared bear such a charge.

Though there were voices of dissatisfaction among the southern nobles, not a single one truly stepped forward in opposition.

Within three days, Calca received replies from every southern noble. Their wording varied—some respectful, some perfunctory, some even carrying faint resentment—but their core message was the same—

"By your command."

She sat in her study and read through the replies one by one, a complicated smile appearing at the corners of her lips.

So, when she truly gave orders in the capacity of a "king," those nobles who usually spoke in such veiled, sarcastic tones in the council chamber were no more than this.

At the southern border lay the port city of Villar.

It was the territory of Count Villar, the greatest noble in the south, as well as the south's most prosperous port city. Count Villar was nearing sixty. He possessed the longest standing and greatest influence among the nobles, and he had also been among the fiercest opponents of Calca's ascension.

At that moment, he stood on the harbor docks, watching the troops assembling within his territory.

"My lord, are we really sending troops north?"

His adjutant asked in a low voice beside him.

"That's thirty percent of our forces—eight hundred men in all..."

"Do you have a better idea?"

Count Villar did not turn around. His voice was hoarse and weary.

"If the demi-humans attack and the north can't hold them back, do you think the south will be spared? When the demi-humans breached the central fortress last time, even Hoburns was shaken. If they get smarter this time and bypass the north to land directly from the sea... do you think your head is enough for them to chew on?"

The adjutant shrank his neck and said no more.

Count Villar fell silent for a moment, then suddenly sighed.

"That girl... she has more nerve than I expected."

The "girl" he spoke of was naturally Calca.

"Pass on my order."

Count Villar turned around.

"Eight hundred men aren't enough. Make it a thousand. Have old Barnes lead them, and bring the best equipment."

"My lord, this..."

"I said it was an order."

Count Villar's voice abruptly turned cold.

"If we're going to fight, then we fight to win. If we lose, then there'll be nothing left."