Sixteen-six: The hard part’s just starting once you get there, huh.

After trekking from the Empire, Lucas Lindblum, a hapless adventurer who’d come seeking work, finally reached a proper city-state—guided by the fact that every little country along the way had been wiped out by monsters.

Truth be told, footprints from townsfolk fleeing a campfire still lingered near the city’s edge. Even if Lucas hadn’t been around, we’d have made it there just fine.

Same layout as all the others—town and castle nestled within stone walls. No surprise there, fields outside the walls, and a gate visible, built for quick evacuation.

Even in the kingdom, frontier towns like this are common. At worst, it’s like Goldendown—same idea, just on a scale so different it’s laughable.

Van’s probably sweating bullets trying to keep all these scattered forts in line. Still, the walls are made of alchemically hardened stone.

Travel between cities isn’t common, so we weren’t made to wait at the gate when entering.

At the massive gate of the wall, a guard in strange armor stood on watch.

“That armor….”

Raidock murmured, and Lucas picked up.

“Huh. That’s a Mizuho warrior. This country’s close to Mizuho, you know.”

“Isn’t this an independent nation? Relying on foreign soldiers for defense?”

“Common among small states, apparently.”

The unusual armor reminded Raidock of something he’d seen occasionally during his days as an adventurer.

He was about to say the same.

He knew they were Mizuho warriors, but most of them never talked about why they came to the kingdom or became adventurers. It was an unspoken rule among adventurers not to pry into the past. He didn’t know the details, but the vibe was… they didn’t fit in their own country anymore.

When we got close to the gate, a stout warrior in full armor—some kind of samurai—called out at us.

"Stop! Who the hell are you? Don’t look like refugees. Too clean for that..."

First, I step forward.

...Seriously, that damn Raidock’s not in the mood to negotiate at all.

"Good day. We are envoys from far south across the great river, sent by His Majesty King Vindeck Midlights von Magalia of the Kingdom of Magalia. I am Kyle Goldendown von Eriksil, head of the delegation. We seek permission to enter and audience with your ruler."

Damn it. "Good day" was a slip. Just ignore it.

"What? Magalia Kingdom? One of the Three Great Nations, isn’t it?"

"Yes. It is our pride to be called so."

The warriors clattered their armor together as they gathered, starting to confer—no intention to hide anything, every word clear as it rang out.

“What now?”

“Can’t believe it came from the south. All the nations ahead of us have been wiped out by monsters!”

“And to pass over our Mizoho Shrine Nation and favor this one? That’s an insult!”

“True. We should pay our respects to our Muten first!”

I could tell they were getting worked up, so I cut in fast.

“Excuse me! We don’t know your customs well at all! We know there are several nations here, but figuring out their relations—well, that’s part of our mission as envoys! If greeting the Mizoho Shrine Nation comes first, then we’ll go straight there!”

When I kept talking, the samurai’s excitement finally settled.

“Hmm… true enough. Then let me explain. Our Mizoho Shrine Nation is something like a sovereign over these parts—an overlord city-state. So first thing’s first, we should pay our respects to the living god of the Mizoho Shrine Nation, Lord Muten Ingrum!”

So, we got shoved out of there—more or less forcibly.

We’re not short on supplies, but still, don’t they usually let you resupply a little?

While I scratched my head, Lucas shrugged.

“They’re strong, sure. But their loyalty to the living god? Unshakable. Too much. They’ll bend for anything else—but when it comes to the nation… the dignity of Muten? No room for compromise. Those guys.”

“Ah. So this Muten—that’s the king, right?”

“No. The living god just watches over the nation. All the actual work? That’s the general’s job.”

"Soldiers run politics?"

"That's just how the country is."

"I see."

Something about the structure of these small nations started to click.

Not just a bunch of independent city-states scattered around—no, the Mizoho Shrine Nation was probably holding them all down with force. Otherwise, how could a lowly guard at a foreign gate, a mere soldier, even think about changing a visiting ambassador's schedule?

After climbing into the carriage, I told Kyle my thoughts. Eva joined us as advisor, and she seemed to agree, more or less.

"Yeah. I’ve got the same impression. So let’s not dawdle—straight to the Mizoho Shrine Nation."

"Yeah... still, I wish we’d known the name of that city-state back there."

"Haha..."

A little off schedule, but we were headed straight for the Mizoho Shrine Nation now.

"Wasn’t sure if the small states had all been wiped out, so it’s a relief to see a proper nation still standing."

Kyle’s mumble made me flinch—yeah, that had been a real possibility.

...Now I think I get why Van damn near killed himself pushing forward with road construction.

And so, at last, we reached our destination.

◆

The Mizoho Shrine Nation that came into view was a country beyond anything we’d imagined.

First, the walls stretching out on either side—solid stone masonry with no gaps, topped with countless watchtowers.

In front of the walls, a deep moat, filled with water. Later we learned it connected to the sea—saltwater, apparently.

Even the moat was built of stone, but not stacked in uniform blocks like the standard method in the kingdom. Instead, stones were laid as they came, fitted together in their natural shapes.

"Damn impressive engineering."

Still, I wouldn’t have noticed that if Leifan hadn’t told me.

Size-wise, it’s huge if you call it a city-state, but small if you call it a nation.

Still, it was a massive city, with a long, imposing wall.

Sure, it’s a lot smaller than Golden Dune, though I’ll say it’s rude to compare them.

Maybe a bit smaller than the capital.

The gates are drawbridges, and they’re lowered now.

Some carts and wagons are passing through—enough to suggest there’s traffic.

Of course, the guards at the gate are warriors.

“Halt!”

Naturally, we were stopped—suspicious-looking strangers, after all.

“You’re not merchants. What business do you have here in the Mizoho Shrine Nation?”

I gave the same explanation I’d given to the border guards of that little backwater country.

“What? The Kingdom of Maugaria? Not the great southern power?”

“Yes. I wish to meet the representative of the Mizoho Shrine Nation. If it’s not an imposition, I’d be honored to pay my respects to the living god, Muten Ingrum.”

I’d practiced this enough that the tone came off right. …Or so I hoped!

"Hmm. I’ve noted your desire to greet Lord Muten. Let’s first ask General Shingen."

"Thank you."

"I can’t promise how long it’ll take to hear back. For now, stay at the inn. A messenger will come soon."

"Thank you for your kindness."

I handed over the bribe I’d prepared in advance.

Standard procedure in the kingdom.

A samurai eyed the small pouch on his palm with clear distaste.

"Keep it. I'm a gatekeeper. I know how merchants and outsiders operate. I'll say this only once. Such behavior is an insult to us samurai. Watch yourself."

He shoved the small pouch of silver coins back at me.

"Deeply sorry. Thank you for the warning."

"Hmph. I won't bother others who aren't samurai."

For the first time, the stern-faced samurai twisted his mouth into something close to a smirk.

Turns out he had a sense of humor after all.

And so, without incident, we entered the Mizoho Shrine Nation.

Then we were startled again.

The sheer number of people. The energy humming through the streets.

Fantasy, just by chance, mimicked the culture of old Europe.

The Mizoho Shrine Nation, just by chance, bore a resemblance to ancient Japan.

No reincarnated souls or anything like that. W.