We’d won against the southern rebels, but as a result, no one could gauge which way this civil war would turn. As they each murmured among themselves with grave expressions, the crown prince was, surprisingly, composed.

"The Hungarian mercenaries hired by the Duke’s army have been wreaking havoc on the supply lines, so the Grand Duke’s army chose to withdraw strategically. But that also means the enemy’s main force has drawn closer to the capital."

A strategic retreat, then. When at a disadvantage, pulling back is sound strategy, but it’s a double-edged sword. The moment the soldiers mistake a withdrawal for a defeat, the situation can spin out of control.

"The order given to us is to cut across Selthausen and Konstanz and capture Radensdorf. If we can capture the enemy’s home base, we can end this civil war with our own hands."

The mood soared.

A deep yearning seemed to bloom.

The nobles each pursued different things, but the one thing they had in common was a fanatical obsession with honor. The crown prince’s pledge to end the civil war seemed to ring sweetly in their ears.

I don’t want to throw cold water on it, but do you think it’s that easy?

Rheinkalsen aside, we’d have to pass through Selthausen and Konstanz and then enter Radensdorf, but how are you going to overcome the sporadic enemy resistance and solve the supply problem?

I ignored the delighted nobles and looked at General Alexander and Benjamin, who wore grave expressions. They were probably thinking along the same lines as me.

Fried voiced deep concern.

"The strategy of cutting across the southern territories to attack Radensdorf is excellent, I think, but the problem is that it takes far too much time. Your Highness, we have only five days left."

"...Has that much time passed already?"

What Fried was referring to was the period during which a prince is obligated to serve the royal family. The obligatory period the Duchy of Beren had agreed upon with the princes was forty-five days. It had already been forty days since the civil war broke out.

"It’ll sound irresponsible, but His Majesty my father will handle it somehow."

"The princes’ demands are likely to come pouring in, I’d say."

"Lord Euznirk, that’s not a problem I can do anything about, is it?"

Hm, the crown prince has gotten quite shameless.

But he’s right. As a mere heir, there was no way he could grant what the princes demanded. It was a problem for that crafty old fox of a Grand Duke to deal with on his own.

During the obligatory period, the princes followed orders without a peep, but the moment the period was exceeded by even a single day, they would start applying real pressure on the royal family.

Since I hadn’t mobilized any troops, I didn’t fall under the obligatory period, and the truth was I was getting more in rewards anyway, so I had no particular complaints. Except that a prolonged civil war meant I couldn’t see Hilda.

This is just my guess, but Count Euz might use the lapsed obligatory period as a pretext to demand part of Baschurten’s territory. That’s why he’d drawn in the neighboring lord, Count Belfort, and me.

If the Geerhilt family of Baschurten had its title revoked and the land became a royal demesne, it wouldn’t be impossible. His foresight really was remarkable. He’d predicted Baschurten would fall someday.

"The most important thing for capturing Radensdorf is our artillery strength. Having seen Baschurten fall, you all understand its importance, don’t you?"

At the crown prince’s words, all the nobles nodded in agreement.

The knights were still skeptical of cannons, but they couldn’t deny their power. There wasn’t a single knight who hadn’t shuddered at the sight of the gates collapsing under the cannonballs.

"Sir Streit, how much stone shot have you secured?"

"The cannonballs I’ve secured so far amount to fifty in total."

"You mobilized all of Baschurten’s stonemasons and that’s all you have?"

You think they just pop out the moment you need them?

You’ve got to give us time to make them, at least.

"Your Highness, it’s only been two days since work began in earnest. To carve the stone, the stonemasons have to shape each one precisely with chisels, one by one. Do you really think that’s possible in such a short time?"

"Hm, but the time given to us isn’t much."

"A skilled worker needs at least four days to fully carve a single cannonball. Each cannon has different specifications, so trimming them to fit takes time as well."

It was precisely because I knew it would come to this that I was personally overseeing cannonball production. There are far too many fools who believe that pushing harder will produce results faster no matter what.

If I’d been an ordinary man in charge, most of the nobles would have raised the issue of accountability, asking if that was all I could manage, but the only figures here who could say such a thing to me were the crown prince and Fried.

The crown prince, now thoroughly enamored of artillery, understood the importance of cannonballs well. Even Schneider, who’d been sitting there cowering, actively backed my opinion. Without cannonballs, what can a cannon do?

In the end, the crown prince decided to remain at Baschurten.

Even if a siege became necessary in the south, we had the Royal Artillery Corps. We needed to produce cannonballs so that the Royal Artillery Corps could batter the enemy’s walls.

Blindly joining up with the princely army wasn’t the be-all and end-all.

During the week spent at Baschurten, various things happened.

The eastern front had fallen into a stalemate, but the Count of Rheinkalsen, who had been resisting in the south, presented surrender conditions and requested a conference. According to the rumors, the conditions were quite outrageous.

With the Count of Selthausen and the Count of Konstanz joining the conference one after another, the crown prince ultimately set off ahead for Rheinkalsen to attend it himself.

Since it was a formal session to coordinate surrender conditions with the Western Lords’ Army, the crown prince, as supreme commander, had to attend the conference.

So Fried became the commander of the Baschurten garrison, and the citizens’ treatment grew even worse. The lives of the common folk swayed like candle flames in the wind, depending on the disposition of their ruler.

I paid no mind to anything else and devoted myself to hitting my target.

As a result, I produced more than two hundred stone shot.

This much meant there’d be no shortage of cannonballs for the time being.

Ironically, this cannonball factory ended up sustaining Baschurten’s industry, which had been destroyed by the siege. There was a quarry near Baschurten, so we could concentrate on producing cannonballs.

The reason I’d been able to exceed the target was that I had made paying daily wages the top priority. In wartime, far from paying daily wages, forced conscription was an everyday occurrence.

Baschurten was occupied territory, and there would have been no problem with conscripting labor, but rather than such shortsighted exploitation, I focused on raising production efficiency by paying fair daily wages.

So the dead economy naturally came alive, and I’d offered a carrot that let the people of Baschurten make a living for the time being. As a result, the efficiency of cannonball production rose sharply.

Naturally, the nobles couldn’t understand my methods at all.

I wasn’t looking for their understanding; I’d simply needed stone shot, so I didn’t bother trying to convince them. But I won the goodwill of the people of Baschurten.

That achievement was by no means small.

The conference held at the beautiful Rheinkalsen Castle, which overlooked the Main River, dragged on. The reason no conclusion had been reached by the time we arrived was that the southern princes hadn’t fully capitulated.

"Those damn pigs are demanding the status of victors. They ought to come to their senses!"

The crown prince must have been truly angry, because he spat out a curse, which was quite unlike him.

By the way, they demanded the status of victors? The rebels?

The Count of Essenbach, along with Count Euz, Count Belfort, and others, were present. Count Belfort had bandages wrapped around his shoulder, apparently having been wounded.

"What they’re waiting for is news of the Duke’s army’s victory. It would be the only way to overturn this situation in one stroke."

"A brazen scheme! In the end, this time-wasting conference is bound to fall apart."

"The artillery that brought down Baschurten has arrived, so wouldn’t it be fine to resume the fighting?"

The princes must have had their fill too, because they rallied behind resuming the battle.

If they don’t know their place and demand unreasonable terms, then war is the answer after all.

"Please reconvene the conference tomorrow."

"The conference? I thought you’d tell me to declare war."

"I have a rather good plan."

I couldn’t say for certain whether it would succeed, but it was worth a try.

After hearing my plan, the crown prince clapped his hands and burst into roaring laughter.

The princes, who had no idea what was going on, were bewildered, though.