Tenth author's journal 2: Mikhail

19_Budding trust

Chapter 19: Our future

The dusk sun shines through the clear window, illuminating the massive gorgon in front of me. To avoid eavesdropping, the room is completely locked. "Changing the course of the kingdom" makes me sound like the lunatic in front of him. The tension is high because there is nothing left to do as I previously stated.

Looking around, the office appears to be in disarray. Many parchments have been discovered on the waste ground, and those books on the self have been misplaced. What happened while I was dying? It was a waste of my and the advisor's time, and the culprit could be any of the four because the librarian never left the library unless on a direct order or to mistreat the knowledge he so cherished. In any case, failing to provide a proper meeting arrangement is an embarrassment on my part.

"In the end, it's your choice. Mikhail, you are a sovereign, correct? Don't worry about my nephew's babbling; he is, as you said, irresponsible at times like this." Andromalius, fidgeting his fingers, says

"I witnessed it firsthand at Lysander's funeral, and...the contract." He looks at the desk beside him with reluctance. He must have seen the red flag and realized how much he had been duped. There must be a large number of Kryos who were shown to be playful and unconcerned about his noble status. I couldn't care less how the angels below treated me when being the direct descendant of Sariel, even if I had the experiment status of a homunculus.

"Shall you then lend me your ear?" You will be very important in my future." I assert. Andromalius reacts with surprise when I inform him of his status in this meeting.

"Mikhail, you do know I am tired of such a contract," he says, slamming his hand on the table. "Are you going to make me involved in another after you've freed me?" Of course, he will react in this manner. No matter how much guilt I bring on him, there is a limit to what favor I can ask for in exchange for compensation.

"I'm not going to do it." I don't want you to be in such a position of responsibility or relationship as you have been in the past." Calming, I say. Andromalius looks at me with doubt in his eyes and stumps his feet in response to the usual tail shaking.

"So, what are you thinking?" Andromalius is still unsure. I was going to propose that the tribe become a vassal state of Saudade, but his lack of trust and fear of betrayal is the main issue. It's understandable that he doesn't trust me right away as someone who is still struggling to forgive himself for a false contract.

"Voluntary modification, a separate set of guidelines for ruling or administering your village." Slowly but steadily, I want to ensure their survival. A foundation, not an obstacle to trade with rival kingdoms. Instead of outlawing hunting, simply changing the way the ration is distributed is sufficient.

"...I'm not sure what you're saying." So you'd like me to?" Andromalius' response is perplexing. I just sound delusional without a proper word-out book. Because there is a risk in letting those in the unknowledgeable one, I should state unequivocally: "There is no alliance or dependence relationship." Simply advice from one ruler to another."

"Then I accept; how should we proceed?" It's encouraging to see him cooperate so quickly. I'm relieved that our awkwardness has passed.

"I request that you stay until at least tomorrow high noon." Instead of wording it, I'll show you directly." Better yet, I can show the agriculture minister how the system works while also advising Andromalius on how to store extra hunting meat. If he approves of my work, he will provide housing and a tailor. After all, it takes time to build trust.

"Please allow me to send you my massage, Mikhail." 'Numtius' is cast the moment Andromalius says it. The green will o wisp appears with a gust of mana, and the mana string is poisonous as well. Perhaps it's a defense mechanism against those who would tamper with messages or eavesdrop.

"I'm not coming back this night; beware of the dark wood animals." I chime in with a threatening voice just as the spell is about to fly away, "The high noon shall he return, if not begin planning to aid him." The popobawa in the middle of the green turns pink. A gentle reminder would suffice because they were hostile towards me the last time we met; it's better for them to remain suspicious of me than to suspect their leader was brainwashed by me.

"Why did you do it, Mikhail?" Your message came across as unnecessarily hostile." Andromalius appears concerned. It shouldn't be a concern of his, but he still chooses to involve, this gorgon's sense of responsibility...

"To demonstrate that I am one with my words." Sir Andromalius, your safety should come first." I give him my assurance. He should have noticed how our role played out by now; no matter how friendly he wanted to appear, appearing weak in front of his subjects will cost him a lot more to spare.

"How will I sleep tonight?" The guest room has been renovated to become your room." Andromalius does not appear to be arguing anymore; everyone has had a long day.

"Could you please make it your bedroom tonight?" "I'm not going to sleep tonight." As before, I scoff it off. After wasting time with Sariel's logs, I should at least be responsible and finish what I promised. A week of immobility has reduced this vessel to the size of a child's muscle.

"It's unreasonable, you've only just woken up and yet you've chosen to put everything on your fragile shoulder." With Andromalius and his nosy attitude, I'm not sure how much of a burden I must be before he admits to releasing me to fulfill my duty.

"I promised the agriculture minister that the plan would be operational by tomorrow." I'm not going to break another so soon." Andromalius' village would be served by the new system as well; a hand on example would be preferable to those dried-up words. Isn't it ironic that the archangel of knowledge despises books?

"You're their king, the one they should have protected and followed without question. Why put this solely on yourself?" Andromalius questions me as if he still believes in the old in-the-book hierarchy. It's no surprise that the agriculture minister reacted so harshly; the idea must have irritated him.

"Because I am the only person who can do it right now." Being sovereign entails not only the authority but also the responsibility that follows." Andromalius is stunned by my response, and the gorgon can only look down at the ground. The moon has already set, and the deep sounds of owls calling awaken Andromalius from his ephemeral trance. Could he take a look at how our rule differs from his? When wisdom is absent, charisma and noble will only bring devastation.

"Good evening, Mikhail. Just try not to overwork yourself. It's bad for the image of a king." Andromalius stormed out of the room, his stomping footprint descending slowly to a slithering slide.

I need to be alone right now. Most of the older scrolls and parchments are still in their original locations, as I had previously organized them. They lie up according to time and purpose, with the unsorted hanging out as a sore thump at the end of the bookcase. Because of the memorial title and mana imprinted left behind, the misplaced are easily moved. Unknown artifacts were once again left behind in the room, and I recall asking the advisor to bring the majority of them to the library. The majority of them are for medical purposes; they must have attempted to cause my untimely death before.

As the night progresses, the starless sky outside the window appears as a mocking reminder of how truly alone I feel. They'll have no idea why I've been rushing since my rebirth. And how would they react if the news was made public? This kingdom was most likely deserted prior to the assault. What should a king-replacer do if the only thing brought is the omen of annihilation? The plan I devised was not entirely motivated by desperation, but rather by a genuine desire to advance the kingdom.

The beginning was the report of my lifeless body and the shattered prince with the military minister. How dull is the scroll that is worth being here, but history cannot be erased, and I despise painting lies on common knowledge? This should be included in Section 7 of the military report.

The following one is...

…

Oh, that's the agriculture minister's complaint. The writing style is rough and direct. The documentation of the impact of famine and how a broken promise let him down. There is no mistake in the sentence; only the harsh vocabulary and the curse of originality. This will cause some issues when moving between readers. I might make a change and-

The sun shone through the window, signaling the arrival of another day. It's been so long that I couldn't care about work pacing until now. I can safely set aside the unfinished ones now that more than half of them have been reviewed. The early morning sun rays catch the column of neatly organized documents. In comparison to its previous state, the room appears cleaner and more breathable.

It's time to leave the room and greet Sir Andromalius; I hope our conversation since the last dusk hasn't influenced his decision-making. As I open the door, I notice a familiar figure approaching. The advisor! Oh no! Will he chastise me for disappearing the last time?

"My majesty, you've been in there for a night. Was the duty appropriate for your situation?" With such deep bows and the advisor's stern voice, I can't help but be concerned about my fate.

"I was in there for so long that I lost track of time." I'd like to take it easy for a half hour or so because it's still early." I respond as the advisor scans his eyes...and spells for any deformity. The spell isn't familiar; perhaps it's a one-of-a-kind of his.

"I have heard your majesty and his majesty's debate." His Majesty was right to be concerned about your condition, but your choice of work gives me a conflicted feeling of gladness and worry." The advisor says this while cleaning his glasses as if the stain bothered him. Listening to Kryo's rant about my disagreement must have been an eyesore.

"Was I that inept when it came to you, advisor?" I inquire, waiting for his decision. I need some discipline right now, not heartfelt experiences. Those are distracting and make me prone to laziness.

"No, your Majesty. "I just saw an image of my old king in your." I may have stepped on a landmine, says the advisor, smiling. Considering his opinion of me thus far, I may have exceeded my worth. For him, I am simply a better version of Kryos, not someone worthy of mention in Lord Lysander's place.

“That’s reassuring to know.” I end the conversation. We part ways.

The end

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Civilization makes or ends mankind.

Technology is no different.

On the right hand, humanity flourishes.

On the wrong hand, humanity withers.