Marco's Monologue.
It's Hard to Feel Good.
Imagining that I can achieve peace feels complex to me. I've been suffering for so long that feeling good causes my heart to constrict and seek ways to diminish those emotions.
I believe that someday I will have to pay for the sins I have committed. I don't know when it will be, but undoubtedly, I will have to pay for them. I have both girls in my arms, my princess, whom I love so much. And Emilia, who has been a great friend.
I know that neither of them will seek to betray me, I know that neither of them will seek to disappear from my life. I must protect them, that's why I've trained and trained.
But this world is not so simple; death is a daily occurrence. Undoubtedly, this world is vile and cruel. Ironically, it has been the world that has brought me great people.
I press them to my chest, feeling their warmth.
I wish I could bring my parents; I wish I could show them that their son is okay.
I wish I could tell them they can rest, or at least say goodbye to them. I couldn't even say goodbye before they both died.
As the chaos of the world continues to roar outside, I feel a fierce determination. No matter how arduous the path to happiness is, I will fight for it. I will not allow hatred and adversity to define me.
Deep within me, I hold onto the hope that, at the end of the road, I will find the peace I long for, not just for myself, but for those I hold in my arms and for the memories of those who are no longer here.
That's why I must protect what I have. It doesn't matter if I must give my life; what matters is protecting those I care about.
I don't know what I would do if I were to lose them.
Prologue
What is not Written.
The gentle caress of the wind envelops me as I stand in the basket of the hot air balloon. Cheers and excitement reach a crescendo; Irlam is witnessing unprecedented growth. Its production, academic institutions, and businesses have all reached a level of organization that has captured the interest of people from afar.
Irlam increasingly resembles a bustling city, a place that has thrived following the defeat of the cult and its connection to the whale, alongside Emilia's brilliant initiatives and the advent of steam-powered technology.
The primary catalyst for this rapid expansion is undoubtedly the proliferation of factories. Through various means, I've succeeded in creating a plethora of job opportunities, attracting individuals who seek to transform their lives.
All eyes are on Irlam, recognizing its immense potential.
Once a town devoid of resources, where the sole ambition was to ascend to the capital, Irlam now stands as a beacon of progress. Formerly vulnerable and prone to tragedy at the slightest misstep, it has now emerged as a resilient community poised for greatness.
Irlam now gleams with streets of concrete and stone, new homes, thriving businesses, and houses under construction. From this vantage point, I can take in everything: the people, the houses, and the factories.
This is just the beginning. I gaze upon the sky with gratitude for my world, its advancements, and the effort that tens of millions of individuals have invested in inventing, discovering, creating, and innovating.
All of this has propelled me swiftly forward in this universe.
Knowledge is the source of truth; humanity must recognize it. In this world, most do not pursue knowledge but rather physical or magical power. The few who possess knowledge attain power, exacerbating the gap.
It is time to change this; society must transform, and the world along with it.
"Look!" I point towards a column draped with blankets held by the army. It is the evidence of our victory over the whale, the proof that Irlam can progress, the testament to my strengthened self.
Soldiers unveil the blanket-covered statue, which stands before everyone. The people's gazes fill with wonder, and adults lift their children onto their shoulders so they too can behold it.
Yes, this is how every invention begins, how every act begins, how every moment in our lives begins.
Perhaps everyone is pondering about the identity of the man, but obviously, no one here will recognize it. This moment, this situation, is what embodies the transcendental. It was challenging to find the perfect statue, but in one way or another, this one represents the truth.
"Someone meditating," I observe everyone. As their gazes remain fixed on the statue, I add, "race, ethnicity, origin, morphology, gender, age."
I inhale deeply, to conclude this point; it is time for everyone to truly contribute their part. Combating racism, combating hatred has been a laborious and complex task, but I believe it is feasible.
"We are a society of thinkers!" I declare with vigor. "We are a society that refuses to be governed by mere instincts." I stretch my arms out, surveying the sky above. "What distinguishes us from beasts is our capacity for reason; anyone who possesses it deserves respect just as much as you seek it."
"This moment, this situation, is one of profound significance."
"That's why, as rational beings, we have a duty—to guide those in need." The hot air balloon begins its descent, bringing me closer to the ground.
With a command of the wind's magic, I control the descent, easing the pressure within and orchestrating its landing.
All eyes are on me as I descend. When the balloon finally touches down, I step out of the basket and join the crowd.
Excitement fills the air as people approach, eager and jubilant.
They make way for me as I approach the statue, using magic to levitate myself and stand atop it.
"Irlam stands as a bastion of ingenuity! Of creation!" I raise my fist, rallying everyone together. "Here, no one will be held back from progress, from creation. Here, we refuse to suppress those who strive to better our world. We will not cut short their lives or those of their loved ones."
"Here, we celebrate the creators! We cultivate knowledge!" I shout with passion. "Learn! Strive! Work! Seek your best self every day!"
Placing my hand over my heart, I gaze upon my people, reflecting on all that we have accomplished.
I started with nothing, but now, now I have a beginning.
"We will be so grand that the world cannot ignore us!"
"Long live Irlam!" everyone shouts enthusiastically.
The proud gazes of each individual, the excited cheers of the children, it all merges into a chorus that drowns out any negative feelings. A revitalizing sensation envelops me, an indescribable feeling, almost as if the simple act of being connected strengthens me.
Everyone's eyes shine with a fiery passion, looking at each other with palpable pride as they chant "Long live Irlam" in a magnificent chorus.
I return to the stage with a smile, my eyes meeting Emilia's and Beatrice's, who await me eagerly.
"That was impressive!" exclaims Emilia, extending her hand to me. I accept the gesture, and we both turn our gaze forward.
We can no longer withhold the information about steel; it has leaked among the nobles, and before they use it to their own advantage, we will release it to the world.
"As you all may know, rumors have begun circulating that Irlam has achieved the production of steel, a coveted metal that until now was only forged in the great foundries of different nations," I address the audience, raising my fist. "Irlam's steel factory has been operational for five months."
As planned, the blacksmiths advance towards the stage, ascending to the platform with pride.
Those souls who suffered under the dominion of those who wield power, those who gave their hearts and strived to overcome. Those who shed their blood for their dream, despite having lost everything.
Baltazar stands by my side, and the rest of the blacksmiths stand behind us, upright with radiant smiles on their faces.
"Today! We announce the birth of the Irlam Blacksmiths Guild!
A guild that will soon transform into a formal entity.
"We possess notably stronger and more durable steel, steel that is unmatched by that of the capital.
We will not allow them to steal from us or to criticize us.
We will not give them the chance.
"All thanks to the people who were once exiled by those who oppose progress, by those who wish for everything to be forgotten."
Baltazar takes a step forward, addressing the crowd.
"The blacksmiths' guild of Lugunica expelled all my colleagues; they used them to take over the entire capital. We lived in the shadows, not knowing if we would have anything to eat the next day." Baltazar clenches his fist in fury as the rest watch impatiently. "They seized control of the steel and monopolized it, but not satisfied with their dominance, they carried out malicious schemes to annihilate us."
Everyone's eyes shine intensely as he gazes at the crowd, smiling.
"Now that we have surpassed them, they will have no choice but to compete. This is just evidence that we can all achieve it."
The coherence with which Baltazar speaks surprises me; it seems like he truly felt those words.
"We have created the steam engine, we have developed the typewriter, we have used metal to invent devices that make people's lives easier, and we have also conceived devices that can end them. We will continue to create and progress, but only if you continue to innovate and create," Baltazar raises his voice. "Any request for an invention you may have will be welcomed; you will receive fair treatment. This way, Irlam will continue to thrive."
Baltazar points to himself with his finger and flashes a confident smile.
"I am Baltazar! I am the leader of the Irlam Blacksmiths Guild. Those individuals will have to beg us. HAHAHA!"
I smile, acknowledging that this is the same Baltazar I know.
Baltazar looks at me, as if he is on the verge of his emotions. I smile back at him as I squeeze Emilia's hand.
She raises her hand and addresses everyone, with a smile so radiant that it eclipses the sun itself.
"We can all progress! We can all smile!" Emilia raises her voice with a touch of magic. "This is just the beginning. I, Emilia, as a candidate for the throne of Lugunica, will do everything in my power to create a world where everyone can feel safe, a world where everyone has the opportunity to thrive regardless of their background."
The celebrations reach their peak, people applaud proudly at the words of Baltazar and Emilia, and at this moment, racism towards her has significantly decreased.
Several demihumans arrive in Irlam in search of opportunities, as this is a place where anyone can attain a position of power, and the general treatment is much friendlier. Though the competition is fierce.
People evolve, ideas change through trials and compromises, even in the case of Emilia, who has proven to be an excellent leader. The day continues with its excitement until nightfall, and we find ourselves celebrating at the kiosk with bottles of wine.
Crusch, Emilia, Beatrice, Roswaal, Rem, and Ram. Otto and Luan are celebrating in the village. For my plan, it's essential that Roswaal never crosses paths with Otto, so I excluded him on this occasion.
"It's been a magnificent speech," asserts Roswaal, while savoring a sip of wine. Every day I understand Roswaal's expressions more deeply; lately, he seems more jubilant than usual, as if he were anticipating something with great excitement.
At this point in the narrative, the only adversary I would need to worry about is the rabbits. However, with the people around me, I believe it's feasible to take measures.
The dilemma is that something unusual is happening; the high nobility maintains an unsettling silence, and Miklotov has failed to gather any information.
"It's been quite enjoyable," affirms Emilia, taking a small sip of wine as Beatrice settles into her lap. Crusch and Emilia engage in lively conversation, while I continue to discuss the next steps with Roswaal.
"Now that the steel has become public, it's imperative to carry out what I mentioned to you." Roswaal strokes his chin, scratching it lightly.
"It presents a challenge." Roswaal hands me a letter. "The 'mayor' of the city of the Holy Mountain of Pardochia wishes to meet with you. I consider establishing relations with him essential for your plan."
I need to start building connections with the outside world; initially, I intended to leverage Roswaal's contacts, but he argues that few have significant influence in other countries. What I seek is the possibility of founding companies in foreign nations and gradually increasing Irlam's influence.
The steam engine constitutes the cornerstone of everything, though currently, the typewriter is gaining importance as it has become popular among officials and nobles.
"Hermod..." A mysterious individual, unknown to me in the novel. Roswaal claims he is an acquaintance who has shown interest in the steam engine, thus traveling to Irlam with the intention of forging commercial relations.
If I can start with him, it will be a step forward. I hope he is a person of integrity and not a ploy by Roswaal.
Burr, Burr.
The metia vibrates again, so this time I pick it up and open it. As I do, the first thing I notice is Miklotov's expression, who appears worried, with furrowed brows and a tense gaze. I realize it's not a trivial matter, so I rise from the table.
"Allow me to excuse myself for a moment; I need to attend to an issue," I announce to everyone, turning my back.
At the last moment, I notice it: Roswaal's eyebrows arch and a subtle smile form on his face. My body starts to feel the rapid circulation of blood through my veins as anxiety mounts.
Once I'm far enough away, Miklotov begins to speak.
"What I feared has happened," he says, taking a paper from his desk and starting to read. "The industrial city of Costuul requests from the Irlam community the delivery of the blueprints for the creation of steel, the steam engine, and the typewriter, under the accusation that these blueprints were stolen directly from the city of Costuul."
A vein on my forehead begins to pulsate strongly as I listen to Miklotov conclude his account. I sigh, struggling not to let my emotions overwhelm me.
"And? We've already announced all these inventions to the world. Everyone knows that Irlam produced them to defeat the cult. Steel is something we just made public, before this notification became public."
Miklotov continues.
"Suspicions point to the revolutionary army, the cause of the war between demihumans and humans. It is believed that they are hiding in Irlam. In Costuul, a secret attack occurred where the blueprints were stolen from the castle. Therefore, a thorough investigation is requested in Irlam."
It's becoming increasingly absurd and senseless. It seems they're running out of arguments. Roswaal remains the ruler of Irlam; under his protection, there should be no room for doubt. Roswaal's position and honor cannot be tarnished.
Moreover, Roswaal is theoretically a strong ally of Costuul. There's no way they would take actions against him, as he is the one who aids with the magic machines.
This makes no sense; there must be something more.
"The council of sages has decided to approve the request for review. However, to maintain the honor of Marquis Roswaal L Mathers, Marco Luz will be appointed as the owner of the lands of Irlam. This decision has been approved by Marquis Roswaal L Mathers, and the city of Hanumas has been granted to him as compensation for the decision made."
Did Roswaal approve it?
But I never saw him leave, and no letters addressed to him from the capital arrived in Irlam.
A secondary contact?
No...
It's been since then, he's been waiting, that damn bastard.
Ever since he went to the capital after the royal selection meeting.
There's no point in telling him anything; after all, he'll just act according to his damn book.
"But then, if they come to steal everything from Irlam, how do I stop them?" I ask Miklotov, knowing that he knows more about these things than I do.
If anyone knows about the complete political situation of this world, it's him. Normally, I would be glad to have Irlam, but now it's just plain stupid.
A ruse by the sages to pass the mantle, blame me, and destroy me. It's so foolish that even their arguments are. It's like in my home country, where they say anything to achieve their goals, regardless of what people will think.
Pure greed. Waiting for the name of Irlam to be high only to steal everything. Miklotov thinks for a while. Minutes pass, and as I try to think of a solution, he interrupts me.
"The only way is for you to reject the request," Miklotov shows me a paper, with a single word. "You will enter into war with the industrial city of Costuul."
"A civil war?" I close my eyes for a moment, wondering if it's really a solution or if it's part of Roswaal's plans.
Miklotov affirms, he seems sure of what he's saying, and although his expression remains one of deep tension, his voice is laden with deep introspection.
"If you accept, they will steal everything from you and use some vermin to imprison you, be sure of that. But if you declare war on the city of Costuul, then you'll have time while the council's decisions are made." Miklotov takes out a book and begins to explain:
"In the kingdom of Lugunica, decisions are made by the great king. Without him, the council of sages takes the power to make decisions about agreements between different cities. In case of a confrontation, the council of sages must decide whether to accept the war agreement or not."
Lugunica displays of being a peaceful nation; however, it also has legislation for wartime situations. Internal conflicts are only authorized if an agreement is reached, mediated by the nation's leaders.
"Decisions will be made with the council exercising its mediating role," proclaims Miklotov as he closes the book. "Clashes between cities are strictly prohibited unless they are extraordinary situations, and in this case, an exception is likely to be made."
Irlam is in the spotlight; currently, Costuul is suffering economically due to production costs that are incredibly higher compared to those of Irlam. This perspective allows me to understand it better.
The law in Lugunica does not permit it, but the council of sages has the ability to decide, often with bureaucratic motivations. It's like a war between nations, where murder is illegal, but in times of conflict, it's accepted.
At this moment, I must reflect deeply. The gears are turning again, and once more I find myself in the eye of the storm.
Roswaal seems to be plotting something, and I can't reveal my relationship with Miklotov at this time. Although, I suspect he already knows.
The way the Book of Wisdom acts is still a mystery. If what he knows are my actions, then I must make sure to hide those details. His book must be anticipating what I plan to do with it, that is, how to influence his actions. I must avoid this at all costs.
Beatrice explained to me that the Books of Wisdom of everyone reveal the actions they will carry out for the benefit of their mother, as well as those that will guide them on "the best path in their lives."
It's evident that Echidna must have plans, and her resurrection must also be prophesied, although perhaps it's not the right time for Roswaal to discover it.
"Allow me to reflect; I will give you an answer as soon as possible," I sigh, pondering the decision I must make.
"Consider the war carefully; I will try to prolong it as much as possible so that you can prepare adequately," Miklotov bids farewell and closes the metia, leaving me with the soft murmur of people's laughter in the kiosk.
I sit on the grass and gaze at the sky. At this moment, Irlam's army is constantly expanding; the production of steel rifles continues, and bullets and various grenades have been manufactured with the intention of strengthening Irlam's power.
I feel no fear towards the knights, if only they were common knights. The real danger lies in whether they bring someone like Julius or hidden mercenaries, individuals who lurk in the shadows as sources of power.
Costuul is on the other side of the mountain, and I must carefully consider this seemingly absurd motive; there must be a way to counter it.
I know people won't believe it right away, but we are immersed in a political battle, and any rumor can affect us significantly. If we truly wish to overthrow this accusation, perhaps we should consider allowing them to come and investigate.
However, there is a risk that they will steal our blueprints, as we do not have copyright protection to shield them. I must also remember that, although Irlam is under my control, Roswaal remains an important figure who must maintain his prestige.
Even though he may seem unconcerned about these matters, he must keep up appearances until his peculiar book gives him instructions. If all of this is happening and Costuul is pressuring us in this way, it's because they want us to surrender, either to protect Emilia's honor or to eliminate her and me.
I stand up, illuminated by the bright light of a large waning moon. I clench my fists, reflecting on what I must do.