Chapter 910: Between Stone and Succession ( 910 )

After securing the border wall, Javier stood atop the battlements, arms folded, surveying the landscape in silence.

Sigh... So this is what passes for a border wall around here?

He tapped his glasses, prompting the Sky Eye to zoom out and sweep along the entire stretch of the frontier. The projection blinked and scrolled, offering a crisp, end-to-end view.

Is this really how the previous lord built his defenses?

With so many enemies, this was his idea of a stronghold?

No wonder he crumbled so fast when the late King Edmund went mad with that so-called celestial.

Javier frowned, eyes tracing the jagged, unfinished lines of the wall.

What’s with all these wide open gaps? Just stretches of half-built barricade and dirt piles. He left the whole region wide open. Why not build it like Armand’s border, high walls, battlements, not a single rat hole from end to end. The only way in or out should be through the official gates.

Javier clicked his tongue, a mix of irritation and contempt flickering across his face.

If it were up to me, nobody would even dream of slipping past this line.

There’s no point closing or locking the gates if half the border doesn’t even have a wall. The enemy could just march right in.

No resistance, no obstacle at all.

Javier’s lips curled in annoyance.

Shit... what a mess.

Arjam’s supposed to be one of the richer regions, isn’t it?

Higher tax revenue, decent ore mines, plenty of stone, lumber, good farmland... If I compare it to Armand, Arjam probably comes in second. So why the hell is their border like this?

He zoomed out, letting the Sky Eye’s live feed scroll across the horizon.

Shit... This is going to take a lot longer than I thought. I’ll have to station even more puppet knights along all these open areas, just to plug the gaps.

A sense of frustration gnawed at him.

Even if those nobles don’t dare send troops. With everyone already know how strong Armand is, even without my puppet knights, there’s still the risk. Saboteurs, spies, enemy intelligence units... all it takes is a few "rats" slipping through the cracks.

I know Alf’s already deployed his counterintelligence and assassin units, but nothing is ever guaranteed. Not even with the Sky Eye overhead. There’s no such thing as perfect security.

He exhaled, gaze hardening as he watched the empty stretches between the walls.

It’s going to be a long job.

Javier squatted down on the battlement, letting out a deep sigh.

Damn... now this is just too much work. Sure, I could use my puppet knights to rebuild the walls in record time, but what about the locals? They need jobs. If I let the puppets do everything, the townspeople will be out of work, out of money, stuck watching their lives get rebuilt by outsiders while they go hungry.

Father always said, never let the people starve when there’s honest work to give. With steady jobs, they can feed their families, keep a roof over their heads, start piecing their lives back together after all this chaos. Work gives them dignity, hope... and a reason not to sell out to the next greedy noble dangling a few coins.

That means my main job is to lock down security. Keep the borders tight. Deploy the puppet knights as guards while the Armand officers and staff act as enforcers. The real rebuilding, walls, battlements, towers, everything, needs to be done by the locals we hire and pay fairly. The more they build with their own hands, the more invested they’ll be in defending it.

Javier sighed again, rubbing his face.

So that means more days stuck out here, less time back home in Armand. And with Father’s wedding to Queen Mylezra coming up soon...

He frowned, mind ticking through the likely fallout.

Wait a minute...

He pulled out his notebook and pen from his magic storage, flipping to a blank page.

If news of Armand taking Arjam gets out, sooner or later, those greedy kings will hear about it in two or three days, maybe longer if we’re lucky. Within a week, maybe seven to eight days, the royal council will call an ’emergency meeting.’

And of course, Father won’t be invited. Kimar will use that chance to stir up trouble. Which means I’ll be stuck dealing with another political headache. And just like that, Father’s wedding day gets postponed, Queen Mylezra gets in a mood, and she’ll come hunting for me or Mother to complain.

He rolled his eyes.

But if it’s Mother... she’ll know how to handle Mylezra. She always does. Maybe I should just leave it to her this time.

Let’s just hope those bastard kings don’t try to strip or revoke Father’s title.

Because I can already see what’s coming next.

Now that Arjam’s under Armand’s control, with Princess Kliatana appointed as the new Arjam Ruler, and, of course, my ever-calm, noble, too-handsome half-brother Heres, who’s so smitten with Kliatana, things are about to shift.

Armand’s going to close the gates to Human Kingdom merchants. That’s a given. The only supplies left will come from the Dwarven Nation and the Beastkin Nation.

But knowing Father, he won’t let other people starve. This means the supply to the Beastkin Kingdom and Dwarven Kingdom will be maintained.

But there’s no more direct trading with the Human Kingdom. No more easy profit for them. The royal capital and other noble regions are going to feel the pinch soon enough, prices up, supplies down, nobles grumbling, merchants and commoners starting to riot...

No... that’s not important right now.

If these were about to happen...

This means Father’s plan will be working.

And I’m sure Father can easily get recognition from King Veldrac, King Lioness, Queen Mylezra, and even Chieftain Gumarak. And when that happens...

Independence for Armand.

Ugh! No, no, no!

That’s what Father’s aiming for. No question.

And who gets stuck with the real headache?

ME!

Eeeekkk!! Paperwork, paperwork, paperwork! Inheritance, succession, the whole "next ruler" thing breathing down my neck. My freedom!! Gone in a flash!

Javier paced along the battlements, hands clasped tightly behind his back, a scowl dragging at his face.

No more lying around with my head in Liana’s lap. No more sneaking off with Gloria, no lazy afternoons tinkering in the workshop. Forget grilling meat in the courtyard, or fishing by the stream, or even climbing up trees just to snatch a piece of fruit.

All of it...gone!

Gih! Next, I’ll have to move like a real prince. Perfect etiquette at every banquet, posture straight as a rod, that diplomatic smile plastered on my face from morning till night. Formal greetings, bowing to every noble, handshakes, polite laughter. No more slouching, no more rolling my eyes, just one endless parade of being the...

"ideal Armand heir."

( End Of Chapter )