"Bzz!"
Fauken Bay, Empire Second Army garrison, Fang City in Golden Lion Territory, within the lord's castle's council hall.
Lieutenant General Doran Beate, a burly man with slicked-back blond hair, sunglasses, a cigar clenched between his lips, and a glass of red wine in hand,
sat in a rattan chair at the head of the room. As he enjoyed the refreshing cool air blown by the magic-powered refrigeration unit beside him and admired the seductive dances of the lightly veiled Beastfolk slave girls before him, the corners of his mouth rose uncontrollably.
He inhaled the rich aroma wafting from the glass of Romanee Red Wine in his hand, a royal exclusive from the Francia Kingdom.
Savoring the uniquely smooth taste of a Baru cigar, painstakingly crafted by master cigar rollers from the distant Baru Kingdom, his heart was filled with pleasure.
In truth, ever since he had learned from his father three months ago—his father being both the Marquis of Beyat and the Foreign Minister—that he was to be assigned to Fauken, a place crawling with mosquitoes and danger at every turn,
Doran had been deeply resistant.
After all, in the eyes of others, he was Lieutenant General Doran, the imposing commander of the Empire Second Army.
But he knew perfectly well what he was capable of, and just how much water there was in his rank of lieutenant general.
In fact, if not for his father's connections, as well as Prime Minister Wolf's need for an obedient puppet to keep Duke Mosesiris, the Marshal of the Ground Army, in check and prevent that ambitious duke from developing designs on the throne,
then no matter how hard he tried, his mediocre military talent would never have allowed him to reach this position.
Although the Empire had successfully seized Golden Lion