Tower of Karma

"- The number of participants in the study group, which was right shoulder up, is decreasing rapidly"

With a rugged face, Palomides gazed at Alfred, who sat face to face.

"Why?

"Don't ask me even though I know. The territory managed by the houses of several participants was to be managed by another nobleman. It's been inserted. My neck."

"There was an abbreviated decree earlier. So - I'm talking. I thought it was a territory that the house had managed for decades. It wasn't today yesterday. I can't help but feel free to change that."

Lambert is the one who is sitting on the couch after a mock fight and falling asleep. Lamberto thought there were just honor students, palomides, where they wouldn't break Jen Royalty despite being as worn out.

"Quickly."

"With the exception of Your Majesty, we have only limited means of being forced to do this."

"Ministerial class, right. Keep your reins tight, and so will the white king."

"Because the king is not omnipotent enough to keep an eye on everything. Moreover, the opponent is an old nobleman who was more spoiled by the old royal family than by the Claudia faction. Even kings are not easy opponents. And even a king who burns his hands naturally becomes a mighty enemy to us."

Quiet, fierce, one-off attack. This is what it is to say about turning huge forces into enemies. Nobody gives me a meeting from the front. Scrape this one off the side, that's how they do it.

"What do we do?

There was a rush in Palomides' eyes. His friend's house was also flown to secluded areas on the grounds of a rearrangement of lords. There is no convincing trade. No, trade would still be better, some houses were confiscated and driven away by idleness.

I attended a study group sponsored by Alfred, just for that reason.

"How about we sue His Majesty directly? At the request of my active son..."

"I don't know who's activating power, and they're just doing what they can within the discretion they've been given. There's no reason for the king to move."

If he had time, Alfred swallowed a word that nearly fell from his throat. As long as we have time, this unscrupulous arrangement's twist will always show up in the numbers. In an unfamiliar situation known as the food crisis, it is imperative that an unfamiliar lord be brought into being.

Their hands are bad. Normally, I wouldn't point, a bad hand who doesn't seem to think about anything after pointing. Alfred has underestimated the face, pride and stupidity of their old aristocracy. Would it be an ugly, crappy creature, albeit an arrogant demon clinging to history, that doesn't make sense?

But that's why Alfred mispointed.

"... I thought you were coming with a slightly looser hand. I didn't expect this to happen without resorting to reasonable and effective means to strangle them while sieging them."

"What, are you up to it? Alexis, the golden knight of heaven."

"No, I have bills to hang up. I'm surprised you're pointing your finger at this, even though we're showing it to you."

The strongest card Alfred has.

Now it is only with the Eskendereia food he has brought that Arcadia has managed to get through the winter. Because of that, the tightening has also been eased with the countries, with arrowheads that have become slightly normalised. Then, in winter, the market moves will stop.

If supply stops in each country, Alfred will still take the lead this winter. Imported foodstuffs that are kept out for supply while adjusting storage as appropriate. All we have to do is shut down the supply to the territory controlled by the mastermind in this case.

(The politics expands all at once. You'll see blood soon enough. It's convenient to get faster, but this one needs to get scratched, too, because I have a headache considering the future)

It is natural to crush them, but in the process they will also taint their own names. You'll be able to restore trust as soon as you get around to it, but given those hassles and time, it can never be a shortcut.

Brilliant hands as harassment. Though it is also a self-destructive hand.

"In the meantime, let's keep the study group going, unless the participants are gone. In the meantime, I'll explore everything. In the worst case scenario, it will be a civil war. For then, you must be a little stronger."

"... ok"

"Even though we're newlyweds. Fuck you."

"I'm sorry. I don't have enough power."

"Wow, I didn't mean to guess. He's my warrior, and he's gonna be ready. Leave the rough stuff to me."

"It'll help. I'll try not to."

With that said, Alfred's brain had already begun to paint a picture of the battle. Shura's way to wash blood with blood. After all, there can be no bloodless usurpation of kingship. I should have understood that, but how could Alfred not be in the range of assumptions to be compelled to shed so much blood so quickly and too much more than expected.

(I have the power of war. Thought we were still ahead, but let's make a request)

A glimpse of the outside revealed the beautiful city of Arkas. For a moment, the memory of a struggle carved into this land long ago blurred the back of my brain. The Silver King and the Golden Knight collide, an abominable history many have lost.

I can't spin it anymore. It's a face-to-face disconnect.

(Do people repeat again? No, you shouldn't be like that of them. There is no sorrow like them in the struggle for coercion that shields unbelievable folly and ideals. There is only business)

Still, your own victory is imperative. Alfred makes his thoughts stronger that he should do so more in this matter. Tell the fool how to face the sacrifice he's made.

Get a king for your ideals. To this end, we choose to do the opposite of our ideals.

This contradiction is another royal road. It will be a man's business.

○

"... Mother, this situation is"

Second Prince Cornelius was in the same room as his mother, Claudia. There was a report from his squire to his mother as he was reading, and he was listening to it loosely beside him, but Cornelius closed the book to the deterioration of the situation as the report progressed.

Yes, this is an obvious bad hand.

After his squire leaves, Cornelius stares at his mother.

"You think the concubine gave you instructions?

"No, it would be arbitrary. Some faces come to mind."

"Damn, but isn't it getting interesting"

"Interesting, is it? I don't think we have a very good future ahead of us."

"Oh, what did you imagine, my dear Cornelius"

"Unless it's also some kind of hidden ball, Brother Alfred will stop feeding their territory. And they will contact your mother. He wants me to give him a hand. Ahead is the civil war. And no matter how it turns out, the invasion of another country begins in the spring."

"You're not so popular as to miss out on exhausted countries in the civil war. That's the country."

"It's not good for us. Even if you win, you lose the connection that says Eskendereia. If we suffer from hunger again next season, this time Arcadia will have to move to secure resources in the war. We can't even secure satisfactory food."

"The concubine imagined the same thing again. Goddamn, doomed, my paradise, Arcadia."

Seeing Claudia's expression making a disturbing statement, Cornelius speaks of anxiety.

"Why does your mother seem happy?

In the form of a question. But I know the answer to that.

"... Come on, for some reason. Either way, there's no option for the concubines to cut those. The fool and the mighty. A royal and a great nobleman, a lotus student. It would be, Cornelius."

"... you're right, Mother."

"I like kids with good sense of things. Pull over more."

Permission to approach, the moment it is given, scratching something out of Cornelius' head, etc. Anxiety and other winds that blow, just release the love that is within itself.

"Oh, Mother, Mother, Mother Ye"

Cornelius embraces it as if it were stubborn. Distorted parent-child relationships. There is no public figure of a prodigal child as though he was trying to regress into his mother.

(Will it perish? It's also a pleasure. The concubine perishes. What will you look like then? Anger, hate, pity, whatever, whatever -)

Claudia, let's go. Let's look at my face in the mirror and see.

I hate time. I hate him. I hate the world.

And above all...