It took Zion a fairly long time to compose his emotions.
"Father. My late King."
Sometimes, whenever he heard those who discuss history appraise his father as an incompetent king, there was always one thought he had.
The reason the young Zion accepted and shouldered the duty given to him so utterly as a matter of course.
Because he had watched and learned it growing up.
His father had always striven for Deber.
"So do not disparage your utmost as a mere desperate struggle."
He picked up the gold ore fallen on the ground and put strength into it.
Along with intense heat the impurities burned away, and only the gold melted and pooled.
Before long a single bead of gold formed. From a fist-sized gold ore, a volume of gold amounting to a bean had been extracted.
Truly an astonishing content.
"The legacy you protected shall become my strength and be used to protect Deber."
The golden bead melted once more and flowed along Zion's hand.
Its destination was the middle finger of his right hand. The gold coated the Ring of the Guide.
"So please, enter into rest."
As though time were turning back, the earth returned to its former shape.
At the same time Zion let go, and the Stem of the North Star issued its efficacy and returned beyond space.
...He had resolved.
That he would make the Teraguard farm a haven for Deberians.
Fwoooosh!
Crow's feathers fluttered.
'Zion Riobelt must not look after worthless Deberian convicts. The first condition is maintaining secrecy.'
A place where, at least on the surface, a trash prince makes Deberians his slaves and exploits them down to the marrow, more horrific than any ordinary prison.
But which in reality is a workplace providing generous wages to poor Deberians with nowhere to lean.
He intended to fit it out as a paradise so pleasant, contrary to its exterior, that one would think no place more comfortable could possibly exist in Deber under the Empire's rule.
'How to maintain secrecy will be the crux.'
He racked his brains for days on end. Put another way, when he came to himself he had already arrived in Seiel.
"Your Highness! Where on earth have you been!"
Had he been away about a week? In that time Winter's face had shrunk by half.
...He seemed to have suffered a great deal of mental strain.
Zion felt slightly sorry.
And he was scheduled to feel a little sorrier from here on, at that.
"I bought a farm, so naturally I went and looked at the farm? More to the point, I have an order for you. What became of the Deberian convicts?"
"I obtained Proprietor Reijo's cooperation and have it all prepared."
Meaning every Deberian Reijo had been working was in a state where they could be transported to the Teraguard farm at any time.
This Winter fellow. Capable after all.
"Your Highness, more to the point, there is a little over three weeks left now. Let us think together about how to raise seven million Luon......"
He cut him off.
"Shh. Send all the Deberians to my farm."
He was confident he could guess what Winter was feeling right now from his face alone.
Add one more word and the man looks like he'll burst inside and die?
'Can't have that. I still haven't found out why the ring responded to this fellow. It probably has something to do with Marquis Remiconin.'
Well, anyway. It wasn't urgent right now.
"It is an order, Winter. By any means necessary, make the Teraguard farm the optimal space for remaking Deberians."
"When you say remaking, which direction would you like?"
"Hm, for now let's set the concept as roughly hell on the surface and paradise on earth in substance. Providing maximum welfare inside it so that the Deberians tremble with suspicion and unease."
Winter was certainly not an idiot who would be fobbed off with vague talk.
"Hide your expression a little."
"I thought it would be better than asking with my mouth."
"That's true. You're curious why I'd do such a thing?"
"......Yes. Honestly, how could I not have questions...?"
It was one of the points he had deliberated over on the way.
Magic might be one thing, but using his head like this was his weak point, so he would have to order Winter to do it; how should he explain it away.
And then he gave up on preparing an excuse.
'What's he going to do if I order it and he doesn't?'
"Guess, Winter. This prince's profound intent, that is. Should you happen to hit the mark, I shall bestow whatever you desire as a reward."
"Do you truly mean it?"
"I do. Even if what you wish for were the downfall of a certain traitor."
Winter's eyes gleamed sharply.
"I shall engrave your words deeply. Please be sure to keep them."
"Very well."
Sorry, but he would absolutely never guess it.
Who in the world could ever anticipate that Zion Bliese had come to dwell in Zion Riobelt's body.
At any rate, the operation of muddling through vaguely, subtly, while looking impressive and pretending to have a hidden move, was a success.
'Work like a dog in my place, Winter!'
Zion himself had separate business to attend to in that time.
Thinking such thoughts, he stroked the ring on the middle finger of his right hand.
The pattern he had engraved while coating it in gold caught at the tip of his fingernail.
"That will be all, then. Keep up the good work."
"One moment, Your Highness. How much are you thinking for a budget?"
To Winter's mind, carrying out the prince's command would require no small budget.
No, perhaps even spending the whole five million Luon fortune wouldn't be enough.
'I still have no idea whatsoever what he is thinking, but he wouldn't want it done halfway.'
Inside that prince there is no such thing as halfway.
Isn't it obvious just from his spending five million Luon on a single night's luxury.
'......For a member of the Divine Race, and a direct-line prince at that, it may be a small sum. Still, given that it is his entire fortune he might well hesitate, yet he showed no reservation at all.'
This much is certain. Ninth Prince Zion Riobelt's generosity, at least, is enormous.
"Budget? Spend it all. It's an order. Don't leave a single coin."
Just as expected. A decision blazing beyond compare.
The problem being that he gave no thought whatsoever to handling the aftermath.
"Twelve million to Proprietor Reijo. You have not forgotten, I trust."
"Ah. Right."
The next moment. Winter's eyes went wide.
Because gold bars came pouring from the sleeve of the prince's robe.
"I forgot. I have never had occasion to concern myself with a mere few coins."
Counting them, it seemed there would be at least thirty kilograms.
Meaning it was not an amount a prince slender for a man could carry about.
'A magitech device? So the clairvoyance device was not all of it. Rumors truly cannot be trusted. Driven out penniless, my foot.'
Perhaps he had hidden assets exceeding hundreds of millions, no, billions of Luon.
Judging by how he vanished without a trace and came back with a pile of gold bars, there was no doubt.
Perhaps... all of this was nothing more than a diversion for an august personage called Divine Race.
Winter set his resolve straight once more.
'Since I have grabbed the rope, I shall grip it to the end and climb up there. I will without fail climb higher than that bastard. Even if it takes wagging my tail before a member of the Divine Race who gets called a piece of trash.'
***
"Get up this instant!"
"Move it, quickly!"
Military police striking the iron bars with batons and swinging whips to create a threatening atmosphere.
Because the lodging had been on the verge of collapse to begin with, a hole ended up punched through one wall.
This place was the lodging reserved for Deberian convicts, located in a corner of Reijo's farm.
"Move, you worthless creatures!"
Bang bang bang bang bang baaang!
The Deberians climbed into the cargo bed of a large transport vehicle, gripped by fear.
They did not even ask where they were going. Because they did not want to give needless pretext to the overseers, who had been mobilized since morning and seemed thoroughly irritated.
Instead they put their heads together and trembled.
"Say, do you know why they are gathering us?"
"I don't know. It seems they're sending us somewhere else, but......"
"Surely they aren't moving us to a place with few people and then shooting us all?"
"There's no chance of that. It's a wretched thing to say, but we're free labor. What reason would they have to slap penal labor on all of us and then kill us now?"
At that, a young Deberian man among the younger set shook his head.
"If it's a bastard who kills without needing a reason, he might."
"What? Do you know where we are being dragged to right now?"
"Not precisely. But...... you know I have a route for secretly bringing in goods from outside."
Wherever you go, in places where there are convicts, the smuggling of prohibited items like tobacco tends to happen.
At this farm the young man's knack was the best.
"I did hear one strand of an ominous rumor. That someone is gathering Deberian convicts."
"Who on earth......?"
"The Ninth Prince, Zion Riobelt."
"......"
"......"
"......"
An ominous silence hung in the air.
The Ninth Prince, Zion Riobelt. Because his notoriety had spread widely even to Deber across the sea.
"Hhkk......!"
Someone's forlorn weeping. Unease drifting aimlessly through the vehicle.
The dwellings that had been visible here and there kept dwindling. An empty expanse with a low hill in view appeared.
And after several hours like that, a farm revealed itself.
It looked even more wretched than the farm they had been at.
Screech, the truck stopped.
"Get down!"
"Overseer, sir. Is this the destination?"
WHAP!
"Ouch!"
"Shut up and get down!"
After flinging the Deberians out as though they were freight, the vehicle raced back the way it had come and disappeared.
Late evening, with the sun gradually setting. The season was still cold.
"F-first let us look for somewhere to lodge."
"It appears to be a farm, so wouldn't there be people?"
"For now, inside......"
It was then.
"Papa!"
The group of Deberians were all men, and most were of an age to have a child or two.
A commonality arising from their being sentenced to penal labor.
Most of the convicts' heads whipped around, and one of them dashed out.
"Einne! Einne! Why are you here......?!"
"Why did you come so late, Papa. I waited five fingers' worth."
Behind the girl, several more figures appeared. Judging by their dark hair, all of them were Deberians.
"So the last of you have come."
"The last? Do you mean we are the last?"
"The last of what?"
"Now, now, you must be hungry, so let us go inside and talk while you have a meal first."
They had spent the whole day starving, loaded into a rattling cargo bed.
The dinner awaiting them, hungry enough to chew grass raw, was......
"M-meat......?"
"Pork! Not chicken, this smell is definitely pork......?"
A dining hall... no, a space that ought to be called a mess hall.
It was warm.
And it was full of smell.
A smell that set a horn blaring in the belly at a mere whiff.
And the food wasn't all of it.
"Papa!"
"Papa!"
"Father!"
"Brotherrr!"
"Wait, Menion! Why are you here?"
Every one of the convicts was reunited with family.
With the exception of exactly one man.
Families whose faces they had been unable to so much as see for weeks at the shortest and years at the longest since being sentenced to penal labor.
Sounds of sobbing began to be heard here and there.
"Young man. It seems you have no family."
An old man approached the one left alone and spoke to him. The young man who had been tacitly playing leader among the group of Deberians. He had lost his widowed mother and was left alone.
"Yes. That is how it turned out."
"Then take a meal with me. There is no such thing as a ration limit here, so eat all you like."
Dozens of questions had surfaced, but for the moment the young man picked up a tray.
Being young, his stomach emptied fast. He could not hold out any longer.
"Hoo. This is the first time in my life I have eaten food this delicious."
"Four out of five people here have said that. I hear it is because it's made with high-grade ingredients three or four times more expensive than the usual foodstuffs Deberians eat."
One more question was added.
Who on earth would provide such luxury to the likes of Deberian convicts?
"Elder. Would you tell me the circumstances behind all this?"
"Hoh, where should I begin. It is truly complicated. First, everyone here was either being exploited under that vicious pig Reijo or is family to one who was."
Just as the old man drank some water and was about to continue.
Vrooom!
A crisp exhaust note came from outside, and before long an automobile of gaudy coloring, blue and gold in harmony, revealed itself.
An extravagant exterior he had never seen in his life. The young man's eyes went round.
Clack.
A handsome youth stepped out of the car attended by an ash-haired young man and entered the mess hall.
Blond hair and blood-red eyes giving off their distinctive light.
"Are you all eating well?"
The faces of several convicts who had arrived here today hardened.
They were the ones who knew the bloodline characteristics of the Empire's Imperial house.
The Divine Race.
That man was a member of hateful Litania, and of the Imperial house at that.
"A subject of the Empire...... greets a member of the great Divine Race......"
Before the salutation could even finish, Zion waved his hand back and forth.
"It is this prince's command. All of you are permitted to omit the salutation during mealtimes. Everyone stand up and eat."
There was no chance he enjoyed hearing Deber's people call themselves subjects of the Empire and call the Divine Race great.
'I can't refuse it entirely, since it could draw suspicion, but I'll cut the number of times down as much as I can.'
Thinking such thoughts, Zion looked contentedly over the scene in the mess hall.
The sight of people steeped in poverty and a sense of defeat enjoying an abundant meal.
The Deberian convicts who had been exploited by Reijo were all innocent people sentenced to penal labor for petitioning for Zion Bliese's release.
So Zion himself had a duty to gift them a tranquil life.
Money? What did it matter how much it cost.
When it was for the fulfillment of a duty.
'I am scheduled to become colossally rich before long anyway.'
The third largest gold vein even in Deber, famous for gold!
Set up one mining trading house and start digging, and money copying would be possible in an instant.
'For the immediate moment, ahem. Things are a bit tight.'
If it came to real urgency he could fill the gap even by using the last resort.
"The convicts from the last farm should have arrived as of today; correct?"
Winter, who had been standing in attendance, spread a document and answered.
"Correct, Your Highness."
"I see. Good. An explanation will be needed, no?"
Step. Step.
He stepped on a chair and climbed onto one of the dining tables.
"As of this hour you are all sentenced to penal labor at the Teraguard farm. The term of service is indefinite. I intend to apply guilt by association and treat your families all identically, so bear that in mind."
"......!"
"......!"
Shock rippled like a tidal wave.
"Indefinite...? F-for life?"
"What great crime have we committed that we must do penal labor for life!"
"Oh dear, I have done wrong. If I do not return my children will starve to death, hhkk."
Objection and clamor. A natural reaction.
"Hey, you."
The middle-aged man singled out flinched.
"Did you say your children will starve to death if you do not return."
"The thing is......"
"But your children are here."
"...Pardon?"
He struggled to hold back laughter.
'Do not worry, all of you. Because here you will lead better lives.'
"The penal labor incentive is ten thousand Luon per month. To those whose work volume ranks in the top ten percent, this prince will add another ten thousand Luon as prison funds."
Every convict who had newly arrived today snapped their eyes open.
Because words their heads could not comprehend had come through.
"Penal labor... incentive?"
"Did such a thing exist in this world?"
And what's more...... the wage was far higher than the work they had been doing before?
And on top of that, though it was penal labor, they would add prison funds if you did well?
"Furthermore, I shall not permit rest to you vicious ideological criminals. Meaning I cannot allow even collapsing from illness. I shall stuff food into you until your bellies burst and make you into constitutions so healthy you can never collapse."
"......?"
"......?"
"......?"
Isn't that a good thing?
Living outside meant a shabby house with rent collectors hounding you, and even with the wife and children working too, barely managing two meals a day; that is the life of this nation's lower classes.
Meaning living here or living there was much the same.
Small murmurings began to be heard.
"You used to do carpentry work, didn't you?"
"That I did. The buildings look rather shabby...... and the trees nearby are quite sturdy."
Zion cut in with good timing.
"Hauling and stacking heavy timber is penal labor among penal labor. Heh heh, this shall be entertaining. Winter! As of tomorrow, tear down their lodgings one building at a time!"
"Yes, Your Highness."
...One building at a time? With the number of people gathered here, one building a day could be put up easily.
They wouldn't be able to enjoy city infrastructure like mana lines or streetlamps, but......
A picture was taking shape.
A picture that set the mind at ease of its own accord.
"Enough! All of you bear in mind that you are in the position of receiving harsh punishment under His Highness. Going outside the farm shall be regarded as escape and met with summary execution, and guilt by association shall likewise be applied."
'It's an empty expanse out there anyway, isn't it?'
'Looked like you'd have to walk two days to reach a dwelling.'
'I kept watching outside while we were hauled in and it's three days at minimum, three.'
Which is to say, this.
They can't leave, but their families are all here.
It seems they'll have to do penal labor, but a monthly wage of ten thousand Luon is a fortune that would take a good three or four months of work outside.
And room and board provided on top of that?
"This... is absolutely not bad employ, ah, no, penal labor......?"
"You there!"
Bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang!
Zion, stomping his feet wildly to stiffen the atmosphere, let out a bellow.
Concealing what was inside him, and carrying delight instead of wrath.
"You wretches who dared petition for Zion Bliese's release! For life! Under this prince! You shall work like dogs and repent your crimes!"
'I am sorry. My ability is lacking, so this much is all I can do for you.'
***
It happened that night.
Within a strange moment that seemed like a dream and yet not a dream, a solemn voice rang out.
「I hereby bring into effect the second article of the covenant.」
「The Guide is permitted the witnessing of the fork.」
The scenes that had appeared for an instant each time the Ring of the Guide vibrated.
The name of the efficacy was 'the Guide of the Fork.'
He didn't know why, but that was the feeling he got.
「Choose.」
「Which path will you walk.」
Before he could even continue the thought, his field of vision reversed.
Flashing light changing and mixing rapidly.
At last a single scene came into view.
The Empire's Imperial Palace. That very plaza where Marquis Gebel's inauguration ceremony had been held.
In place of a platform, an enormous execution stand had been installed.
Dozens of criminals were kneeling with restraints fitted.
...Faces recognizable at a glance despite their filthy state.
'Arist! Leianna! Why are the comrades of the Order......?'
Comrades facing execution. His head hot to the point of seeming about to catch fire.
His field of vision receded and the Third Prince's face came into view.
It was a movement of the field of vision reminiscent of the new import called moving pictures, or cinema.
"Stupid creatures. From Zion Bliese to the whole Liberation Order. The star of the execution ceremony has changed, but it is better this way."
Then someone asks, mixed with admiration.
"How did you know the bastard had failed to rejoin the Order after his escape? Had it been after he rejoined them, you would have become a laughingstock."
"I was not certain. So I put out a newspaper article about the Crown Prince's execution ceremony and observed the fish's movements. It was both bait and a verification measure."
"Hah! I see. You are the Third Prince indeed."
Another flatterer pushed his face in.
"And you even made it into an opportunity to multiply wealth."
"Considering several matters in everything is the very virtue of a sovereign."
"It was a move the likes of me could never have dreamed of. To tell me to buy Brown Trading House securities. They rose a full four times, hahahahaha!"
Cheerful laughter. And a chill wind in inverse proportion to it.
A sharp signal tone tore through all sides.
The guillotines' enormous blades fell all at once.
***
He drew a great breath in.
"Hheuup!"
He exhaled as though vomiting it out.
"Puhaah!"
Zion shot upright in bed, drenched in cold sweat.
He did not say anything as stale as wondering whether it was a dream.
'The comrades' execution ceremony. The bait is me, Zion Bliese. All of these scenes are......'
The vibration he felt in his finger.
The Ring of the Guide.
'Reality. Precisely speaking, the future.'
A mutter flowed out along with a sigh.
"Should I buy some stock too, damn it."