The Maritona Confederation stood as one of the few powers on the vast Inseria continent capable of rivaling the Empire, despite occupying only half its land mass. Two key factors accounted for this remarkable feat.
Firstly, the Confederation boasted a significantly larger population than the Empire. Abundant fertile farmland and an expansive coastline teeming with a diverse array of fish provided the Confederation with immense wealth. The Empire, on the other hand, possessed substantial farmland concentrated in its central regions, while its northern coastline, adjacent to the Grand Duchy of Valoria, remained largely untapped. While the Empire claimed sovereignty over these northern lands, they remained unused. Although the Empire held some coastal territories within the Greater Benher Sea, they paled in comparison to the Confederation's expansive coastline. Consequently, the Confederation flourished in trade, surpassing the Empire in this regard.
The second reason behind the Confederation's success was its efficient governance. True to its name, the Confederation comprised six kingdoms—Vestalis, Samar, Gavaria, Glyswing, Casentino, and Idrisid. Every fifteen years, these kingdoms engaged in a competition to determine the head of state. The leaders of each kingdom participated in a month-long series of events, encompassing scholarly arts, battle strategies, and combat prowess. This grand event was broadcasted throughout the Confederation, fostering public confidence in the chosen leader. The victor was determined by the highest cumulative score, thus prioritizing intelligence over brute strength. Thanks to this meticulous selection process, only the most competent rulers ascended to power. Additionally, as the contests were conducted in a spirit of camaraderie and shared culture, conflicts between the kingdoms rarely erupted—a feat that left the Imperial citizens astounded, as such harmony during succession was virtually unheard of.
The six Confederation members gathered within a spacious chamber of the Grand Chancellor's palace, the official name for the head of state, also sometimes called princeps or princeps maximus, wine glasses in hand. Having grown up together and competed since childhood, they had become close friends. In these intimate settings, they allowed themselves a degree of relaxation that eluded them in public.
"So, the demons have declared war, huh?" Princeps Maximus Oddmund Glenns Casentino, King of Casentino, and the Grand Chancellor grumbled as he downed a cup of wine, a hint of annoyance etched on his face. Contrary to his earlier appearance when he learned of John's withdrawal from the race, the Grand Chancellor now exuded a casual air, dressed in a simple white shirt and blue trousers.
"Haah, those bastards never learn. I'm one hundred percent certain they'll come after us as soon as they secure resources from the Orcish Mountains. Unfortunately, we can't interfere in this war since it's taking place within the Empire's sphere of influence. Damned bastards," ranted King Erland Lay Idrisid of Idrisid, a bespectacled man whose face reddened with frustration. Despite his current state of inebriation, King Erland was known as one of the sharpest minds in the room, his only flaw being his quick temper when it came to matters of war.
"Calm down, Idrisid. There's no point in crying over spilled milk—hiccup. We can allocate a few of our elite divisions to the orc borders, and everything will be fine. Unlike the Empire, which has been grappling with instability for ages, we've focused on growth. So, there's no need to worry—hiccup," slurred King Aldwin Geisslerg Gavaria of Gavaria. Signs of intoxication began to manifest on his face as he took swigs directly from the wine bottle. King Aldwin stood as one of the continent's mightiest individuals, a Violet Core Knight, and the general with the most encounters against the Empire.
"Yeah, easy for you to say, Aldwin! Those bastards will be at my border! Yaaah, Oddmund, do something, will you? I am so not in the mood for this shit again. We just had a war against the mermaids last year, and my ports are still recovering. I am so not interested in this—ahhhhh!" Queen Krista Jewelle Glyswing, a young woman with long white hair, slammed her hand on the table in agitation and rested her head upon it with a deeply frustrated expression. Queen Krista ruled Glyswing and held an air of exasperation in her voice.
"Calm down, Krista. I'm sure our esteemed Princeps Maximus has an idea of what to do, right, Oddmund?" Ferdinand Eks Samar, the chiseled black-haired king of Samar, barely held back his laughter at his own words. He was known throughout the continent as the Sword Saint, a title that brought a smirk to his face.
"Oye, I told you not to call me that, didn't I? Sword Saint my ass! If the people saw how ridiculously hungover you get after two glasses of wine, they'd start calling you the Puking Saint," Oddmund retorted, rolling his eyes at Ferdinand's jests. "Vestalis, did you receive a reply from those fellows at the Round Table regarding the situation?" the Grand Chancellor inquired, addressing the half-asleep man seated beside Ferdinand.
"Oye, wake up, you lazy sod! His Majesty the Princeps is asking you something," Krista exclaimed, delivering a swift kick to William Prigent Vestalis's chair. Startled, William tumbled to the floor and promptly jolted back to his feet, an expression of despair etched on his face. As he rose, the weight of his misfortune became evident—a precious bottle of wine he had clung to during his drowsy state lay shattered on the floor, a costly loss indeed.
"You fucking bitch! Couldn't you have woken me up like a normal person? Look at what you've done! Do you have any idea how rare a bottle of Crimson Velvet is?" William berated Krista, his glare piercing. In response, she simply stuck out her tongue, unbothered by his indignation.
"Haah, will the two of you please shut it? You're ruining the wine for me," Aldwin interjected, displaying annoyance on his face as he directed his gaze towards the squabbling pair.
Disregarding the escalating argument and the exchange of insults, Oddmund shifted his attention to William and inquired, "Oye, Vestalis, what happened with the Round Table?"
"Ughhum," William cleared his throat, adjusted his chair, and settled back down before speaking. "Yes, I have. The Round Table has issued an ultimatum to the demons, urging them to cease this senseless war. However, I doubt the demons will heed their words. Frankly, I find these Round Table bastards suspicious as hell. Who knows what they're planning?" William handed the letter over to Ferdinand, who read it with a frown on his face.
"Don't waste too much thought on them. For now, they're just pawns to exploit. When the time comes, we'll deal with them accordingly," Oddmund remarked, taking a slow sip of his wine as he contemplated the unfolding events.