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There’s no helping it now. Since it seems impossible to approach this in a friendly manner, I’ll just keep it businesslike and matter-of-fact.

“More importantly, Lord Aram, I came today for a consultation with you.”
“A consultation?”

Sweat stains were spreading across Aram’s clothes, and his expression was visibly strained. He seemed to be under considerable stress.
He was sitting face-to-face with an unpredictable werewolf, one particularly notorious even in Miraldia. If our positions were reversed, I’d probably be wetting myself by now.

Feeling a little sorry for him, I gave a brief explanation.

“Would you consider forming friendly relations not only with the Miraldia Alliance, but with the Demon Lord’s Army as well?”
“What!?”

Aram half-rose from his seat with a strange cry.

“Are you telling me to betray Miraldia!?”
“No, not at all. Please, calm yourself.”

From here, I needed to proceed carefully.
The basic principle of negotiation is to explain the benefits to the other party. To say, “If you accept this proposal, here’s what you gain.”
Threats, in essence, work the same way: accept our terms, and you regain your safety. That’s business talk too.
Of course, that’s always the last resort.

Lowering my voice, I chose my words carefully.

“Is there any point in pledging loyalty to a nation that will perish soon enough?”
“Perish…?”

Every nation eventually falls. I learned that much in my previous life’s history class, though I slept through about half of it.
In any case, for a city-state like Schaldir to survive, it has to keep riding the shifting currents. Clinging to some old alliance is pointless. The Demon Lord’s Army, currently on the rise, is the smarter choice.

Aram stared at me, his complexion pale.

“Then you truly intend to destroy Miraldia?”
“Depending on circumstances, it may well perish.”

If they accepted demons into their fold, the form of the country would change.
But fortunately, Miraldia isn’t a monarchy. If the Senate included demons in their ranks, things might somehow work out.
Still, Aram’s face kept growing paler. Was he misunderstanding me?

“Don’t get me wrong. We have no interest in bloodshed. As proof, look at Lüenheit and the two other cities currently striving under the Demon Lord’s Army’s rule.”
“I-in other words… if we side with you, Schaldir won’t be destroyed?”
“Of course. If you become our ally.”

Even if you don’t, we wouldn’t necessarily destroy you. But if I said that, there’d be no negotiation, so I kept quiet.
Aram bit his lip and looked down.

Since the misunderstanding only seemed to be deepening, I tried appealing from another angle.

“We are aware that Schaldir and many other southern cities harbor resentment toward the north. That is the reason why the Demon Lord’s Army is pressing Miraldia from both north and south.”

That was a lie.
The Second and Third Divisions’ strategies were so different that His Majesty had no choice but to order them to advance from separate routes.
We demons are country folk from the forests and mountains.
There’s no way we could know the inner workings of the Miraldia Alliance.

Still, the truth didn’t matter. What mattered was whether the other side believed it.

“Bernehainen, Tübahn, and Lüenheit in the south are already under Demon Lord Army occupation. In fact, the lords of Bernehainen and Lüenheit themselves pledged obedience.”

Of course, the Lord of Bernehainen became a vampire, so it wasn’t exactly voluntary. But no one needed to know that.

“Of the eight southern cities, only five remain. The Demon Lord’s Army intends to reward those who ally with us early, and reward them generously.”

A subtle nudge: the sooner you side with us, the better.

“And even though we’re slightly apart, Schaldir in particular lies next to Lüenheit on the east. We would like to establish a friendly relationship as early as possible.”

I glanced at Aram. His face seemed to settle; he was probably calculating now.

But I stopped myself from pushing the negotiations further.
Schaldir was a proper member of the Miraldia Alliance. Betrayal on their part carried enormous risks.
Should they declare independence and Miraldia attacked, the Demon Lord’s Army might not have the strength to protect them. I’d like to, but right now, our forces were stretched thin.
If Aram still had sound judgment, he’d have no choice but to refuse outright, even at the risk of being killed.
But if he did reject me clearly here, any forms of negotiation would be out of the window.
That, I couldn’t allow.

So I stood, gave the groaning Aram a slight bow, and said:

“Of course, I don’t mean to demand an answer right away. Trust takes time to cultivate. You may reply later.”

At that, Aram let out a visible sigh of relief.

“Understood. Let me consider it.”
“Yes, that would be most helpful. Until next time.”

I took the chance to make a light survey of Schaldir before departing.
Thanks to the lake on the north side, it was bustling with caravans. Merchants in all sorts of garb from different lands were relaxing in taverns and inns.
The city was lively, and the people seemed well-off. But what caught my attention was the strangely low number of guards.
Instead, I often saw soldiers in town guard-like uniforms here and there. Who were they?

On the way back, I had to listen to Hammarn’s squad gripe.

“Boss, why didn’t you just finish off the lord right there?”
“Yeah, the five of us could’ve taken him down easy.”
“I thought we were finally gonna get to rampage a little.”

Just how badly do you lot want to rampage?

As I sighed, squad leader Hammarn muttered under his breath.

“Trust the vice-command. He’s got a cunning far beyond anything we could come up with.”

The werewolves glanced at one another, then nodded.

“True enough.”
“Best leave it to the boss.”

Good men I had with me.
Though in truth, it wasn’t me being cunning, just taking advantage of being a human in a previous life.

Later, after our return, I learned the real reason Aram had rejected the Miraldian Army.
According to merchant rumors, he had been secretly gathering private troops.
Schaldir was allotted only 120 guards by the Senate, fewer than Lüenheit. It was apparently due to a grudge from the Unification War. Even so, that number is still far too few.

Problem was, there were nomadic tribes along the trade routes, people outside city authority. While they were local residents there, they would gladly turn into bandits should the opportunity show, and they’d collect tolls from travelers without permission.
As long as you paid them, they might provide guidance through the desert and other conveniences, but they were hardly reliable folk.
Naturally, one couldn’t be careless with neighbors like such.
But with only 120 men, the guards barely maintained order inside the city. With so much traffic, even gate inspections demanded manpower.
Technically, in emergencies, regular troops could be dispatched—but not in time to matter.

So, upon taking office, Aram had spent lavishly to hire mercenaries and swordsmen. The men I saw in Schaldir must have been them.
The exact number was unclear, but rumor had it he hired at least 200. Judging by what I’d seen, their gear and training rivaled the city guard, and their discipline wasn’t bad either.
But that violated the Miraldian agreement, which prohibited independent standing armies. Aram was afraid he’d be discovered.

No wonder he was so jumpy. For someone so timid, he was quite reckless. For a schemer like him, though, he might just drown in his own schemes.
However, that was the perfect opening for the Demon Lord’s Army to slip in. We’d sell him our strength, and win him over.
I can see myself coming back here soon.