Water Magician

Vol 4. Chapter 723: Diplomacy Is

One floor above the conference room where Abel and the Knightley Kingdom party had been shown, Chief Matar and Minister of Ports Nonta were holding an emergency meeting in the minister’s office.

In a sense, compared to the peaceful atmosphere in the conference room, the air in this minister’s office was heavy.

Endlessly heavy.

“This has become a disaster...”

Matar was trembling.

After having the Knightley Kingdom party shown into the conference room, he had calmed down enough to think, and now he understood just how bad his situation was.

They had attacked the king of a foreign country who had visited in friendship.

Such a thing was unprecedented.

And it had happened in front of the public... right before him, the chief.

How much easier would it be if this were some other country’s conspiracy... or if it all turned out to be a dream?

Matar had led this country for more than ten years, but he had very few memories of being driven this far into a corner.

Basically, because he had always been popular with the people.

But this time was bad.

“How is Mottzare?”

Matar asked after “Strange Man” Mottzare.

“They say he is crouched in the corner of his room, holding his head.”

“He has a powerful fighting instinct, but his sensitivity to threats is even stronger. He must have judged King Abel to be a threat... and been driven by fear.”

Chief Matar did not blame Mottzare. Instead, he regretted his own lack of judgment in bringing him out there.

Everything had been because of that woman captain... Her presence had warped his judgment.

“I want to apologize to King Abel...”

“Chief...”

That was Matar’s honest feeling. Nonta understood it completely.

But Nonta also understood why he could not do that.

The head of a country could not easily bow his head to the head of another country.

It was for the sake of his own people.

Because he stood as their representative.

If such a thing was done in front of the public, it could become a trigger that sent the extremists among his own people out of control.

To avoid that, an apology could be offered in a private meeting, but...

“We only just met. We exchanged greetings and shook hands. And one of my subordinates attacked him... There is no way he would meet with me one-on-one.”

Even Matar understood that much.

For example, even the head of the neighboring Banban Kingdom, whom he knew well, would probably not meet him one-on-one.

Unless the heads of countries had formed a deeply personal relationship of trust, such a thing was difficult.

“Chief, what if we limit the subordinates... yes, if each side brings only one subordinate? And not far away, but in the small conference room next to the room where they are now. If they judge that, in the event of anything happening, they can immediately call loudly for their allies...”

“I see. In that case, they may accept.”

At Nonta’s suggestion, color finally returned to Matar’s face.

Until then, he had been deathly pale.

The cornered situation had made him look that way.

The small conference room beside the conference room.

On Pishkan’s side were Chief Matar and Minister of Ports Nonta.

On the Knightley Kingdom’s side were Abel and Ryo.

A four-person meeting would be held.

Of course, when Pishkan proposed it, Company Commander Scotty, who could be called the one responsible for the escorts, showed reluctance.

It was only natural to fear letting his lord meet with people he had not yet built trust with, in a small number and inside a closed room.

But, again naturally, Abel said,

“I can simply take Ryo as my guard, can’t I? This time, he should protect me before I’m attacked.”

“Of course. Leave it to me! Before the enemy’s deadly blade reaches you, I will protect you by freezing you in flawless ice!”

“If possible, I’d like you to protect me without freezing me...”

Apparently even Hero King Abel the First, known for his courage, feared being frozen in ice.

“In that case, it can’t be helped. Let us bring the Covert Guard First Unit with us. They are not people, so they do not count under their proposal of ‘up to one subordinate.’”

“Yes, surely that is cheating.”

“You are so earnest, Abel. Meetings between the heads of countries are, in a sense, war. It is a terrifying world where all manner of monsters run rampant. The danger of poisoning, traps with falling ceilings, the shadows of assassins—countless schemes lie in wait... and yet you mean to leap into that with only the two of us. You may be going beyond earnest and into foolish.”

“Yes, earnest or foolish is fine. Just protect me properly.”

Abel lightly brushed aside Ryo’s fantasies and closed the discussion with that.

And now.

They sat two-on-two in four chairs.

The first to speak was Chief Matar.

“King Abel, I am truly sorry for what my subordinate did.”

As he said so, he lowered his head deeply, though still seated.

The sight surprised Ryo a little.

Even back on Earth, he had never seen the head of a country bow his head so deeply.

But Abel, the one receiving that bow, spoke with a smile.

“Please raise your head, Chief Matar. It is true that I was attacked, but I was not injured. Please do not concern yourself.”

Naturally, he was not saying that because he was simply kindhearted.

In situations outside his position as king, that might be possible, but... this was already a diplomatic setting.

The other party’s mistake was his opportunity.

And this was not some minor matter on the level of arriving a little late to a meeting.

That said, as far as Abel was concerned, if his original request was accepted, nothing else mattered.

And even that request was not something that benefited only the Knightley Kingdom one-sidedly. It would probably benefit Pishkan as well.

“To begin with, the reason our Knightley Kingdom’s Skidbladnir put into port in your country is not that we have some difficult demand to make.”

Abel began speaking with that same smile on his face.

Matar raised his head and looked at Abel.

Abel could tell that a slight wariness had appeared deep in his eyes.

Of course it had.

When someone suddenly appeared claiming to be a king and said he had no difficult demands, it was hard to believe him from the start.

“Our Knightley Kingdom lies in the Central Countries. From your country, it is about one week by ship to the east.”

“One week...”

Matar was left speechless by Abel’s explanation.

Nonta could not say anything either.

Pishkan was an island nation.

Both of these men, as its leaders, had naturally lived with the sea—it would not be an exaggeration to put it that way.

That was why they understood the terror of sailing for an entire week through this monster-filled sea.

No, to be precise, they had never experienced it, but they could imagine it.

The people of Pishkan only went out to sea for a single day at most.

The neighboring Banban Kingdom was half a day to one day away by ship.

They never stayed at sea longer than that.

That was true not only for Pishkan, but for the Banban Kingdom as well.

It was common sense in these waters.

And yet the king before them said he had come by ship for one week.

As far as Matar and Nonta knew, there were no countries nearby other than the Banban Kingdom.

They had never even heard of any.

But if they looked at the huge ship that had put into port, they understood.

These were people with shipbuilding technology more advanced than their own.

They had no choice but to accept that the ship had come from a distance they could not even imagine.

“I understand. It is beyond our imagination, but...”

“Our ship is called Skidbladnir, and the purpose of this vessel is to travel by sea to the Western Countries.”

“I recall hearing that name before. Last time that giant ship... Skidbladnir, put into port, we were told it had come from the Western Countries.”

“Yes, exactly.”

Matar spoke while remembering, and Abel nodded.

“At present, we are attempting to open a sea route connecting the Western Countries and our Kingdom.”

“Open a sea route...”

“This is not something that will happen immediately. We are crossing waters no one has ever traveled before, at least as far as records show. As you know, the sea is home to terrifying monsters. We will need to further refine practical technologies that prevent attacks from such creatures. Only now has trial navigation finally begun.”

“And these... Western Countries. How far are they from our country?”

“Apparently more than two weeks away.”

“That far...”

Matar was left speechless again by Abel’s answer.

Abel had answered “more than two weeks,” but he had been told it would probably take longer.

When Skidbladnir came from the Western Countries to the Central Countries, he had received a report that she had been blessed with favorable winds.

On the open ocean, clipper ships like Skidbladnir, which carried many square sails, could reach considerable speeds when blessed by the wind.

Conversely, with a headwind, their speed dropped.

Because they could not proceed against a direct headwind, they had to advance in a zigzag... which kept their speed from rising and required extra distance, so it took time.

That meant they were heavily affected by wind direction.

Moreover, once this became a developed route, most ships traveling back and forth probably would not be clipper ships like Skidbladnir.

They would undoubtedly be slower.

Two weeks was truly conditional on the shortest possible travel time.

“If a route between these Western Countries and the Knightley Kingdom is connected, even as trial navigation... then those ships may put into port in our country.”

Matar finally seemed to understand why Skidbladnir had put into port.

“Exactly. When that happens, if possible, we would like to receive supplies and allow the sailors to rest on land. Of course, we will pay suitable compensation.”

“I see.”

Matar nodded deeply at Abel’s proposal.

Matar could understand it.

He could understand it, but... he could not simply nod along.

That was not because of negotiation tactics. It was for a more material reason.

“Our Pishkan is an island nation. As for trade, we have experience only with our neighbor, the Banban Kingdom. In other words, we do not have great production capacity for many things, including food.”

Matar stated it clearly.

Abel nodded when he heard that.

Naturally, Abel understood as well.

If it were only a single ship like Skidbladnir this time, that was fine.

Food for one hundred people at most.

For Pishkan, where one hundred thousand people lived, that was not much.

But if this became a matter of “a route being opened,” the situation changed.

Of course, most of Pishkan Island still remained undeveloped, so if that development were advanced, it would likely be able to supply much more food.

That was why...

“What I am discussing now is not something immediate. We are still at the stage of trial navigation, and trade itself has not been confirmed. However, as a country, ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) we very much wish to trade with the Western Countries.”

He stated his country’s policy clearly.

“When that happens, we would also like to conduct trade, not only resupply, with this country of Pishkan and with the neighboring Banban Kingdom, which we will visit after this. I would be grateful if you would consider my visit this time... an inquiry regarding that possibility.”

“I see.”

Matar nodded at Abel’s words.

It would be far easier to accept than someone suddenly appearing and ordering them to become a supply base.

Ryo, who knew the history of Japan at the end of the Edo period, when the Black Ships arrived and told Japan to become a supply base for whaling, nodded inwardly.

Yes. To begin with, the reason the American Black Ships from across the Pacific had gone out of their way to appear off Uraga in Japan was because, as the Industrial Revolution advanced, the various Western countries were trying to obtain whale oil.

They needed supply bases for whaling activity.

In the end, they had even built whaling bases as far away as Antarctica to obtain whale oil...

History had that side to it as well.

“May I understand this visit as informing us that there exists a nation intending to adopt such a national policy?”

“You may.”

The instant Abel answered Matar’s confirmation, they realized the adjoining room—the conference room—had grown noisy.

Before Abel could say anything, Ryo, who had been sitting neatly and listening politely throughout the meeting, stood up and flew out.

Abel followed him.

Chief Matar and Minister of Ports Nonta followed after them.

In the conference room, there was a muscular man who had forced his way in, and Pishkan soldiers trying to hold him back.

The members of the Kingdom’s knight orders who served as Abel’s escorts had their hands on their swords, but they had not yet acted.

Without letting down their guard, they were watching how events would unfold.

The noisy voices also seemed to belong to the Pishkan soldiers.

“Scotty, what happened?”

Abel entered the conference room and asked Scotty.

“That man... the man who attacked Your Majesty is trying to enter the conference room, and this country’s soldiers are trying to stop him.”

Scotty’s explanation was exactly what they could see.

In fact, nothing else had happened, so that could not be helped.

A voice rang through the conference room where that exchange had just taken place.

“Mottzare!”

The muscular man called “Strange Man,” Mottzare, flinched and stopped moving.

Then only his face turned toward the voice.

The one who had called his name was Chief Matar.

He crossed the conference room and walked toward Mottzare.

In response, Mottzare lowered his head.

The soldiers holding Mottzare back also lowered their heads.

Matar was respected as chief.

Naturally.

If that were not the case, he could not have led a country for more than ten years.

“What is it, Mottzare?”

This call was different from the first.

It was filled with gentleness and affection.

“I... want to apologize...”

“Apologize? To whom?”

Mottzare silently raised his hand and pointed at Abel.

“You want to apologize to King Abel? For what happened at the harbor?”

Mottzare nodded silently at Matar’s question.

Their conversation took place in the now silent conference room.

Naturally, it reached Abel’s ears as well.

“I will accept that apology.”

Saying so, Abel began walking toward Mottzare.

Naturally, Scotty, as his escort, tried to stop him, but Abel lightly held out an arm and restrained him.

This was, in a sense, a diplomatic setting.

This was a moment that would become a turning point, an opportunity for the two countries to develop friendship in the future.

Abel understood that instantly.

Then he slowly approached Mottzare.

Looking closely, Mottzare was trembling.

His instincts had recognized Abel as someone with terrifying combat ability.

Letting such a person enter his range... that could only be fear.

That was why he trembled.

Even so, Mottzare endured it.

Because he understood that his actions at the harbor had worsened the position of the chief he revered.

Because he had come here hoping to somehow make up for that.

So, though it was terrifying... though his trembling would not stop, he endured it.

Abel stood in front of Mottzare.

“I am... sorry.”

Mottzare lowered his head.

“I have received your apology.”

Abel told him that.

At first, Abel had thought perhaps he should shake his hand, but he stopped when he realized Mottzare’s body was trembling.

Because he understood that the trembling came from fear of him.

Abel was a former A-rank swordsman.

And because he had spent time near Ryo, he had also interacted with beings beyond human.

If beings like that entered his range... it truly was nothing but terrifying.

That was why Abel understood Mottzare’s trembling.

Abel turned toward Chief Matar and spoke in a deliberately bright tone.

“Chief Matar, we actually have something delicious. I would very much like this... Sir Mottzare here to try it. I’m sure he will like it.”

“...Pardon?”

Matar tilted his head at Abel’s sudden proposal.

Mottzare himself seemed to have no idea what it meant either.

After that, the conference room sent word to Skidbladnir, which was anchored in the harbor.

Fifteen minutes later, the desired item arrived.

What Head Chef Kovac and the others brought was... a large platter piled high with karaage.

An appetizing aroma drifted through the room.

Mottzare’s eyes were glued to the mountain of fried chicken.

Abel promptly reached for the delivered pile of karaage.

Then he took one piece—not exactly proper table manners—and popped it into his mouth.

“Ho, hot...”

It seemed hot.

But his expression said it clearly: he was eating something delicious.

“Now then, Sir Mottzare, please have some as well.”

Abel called out to him.

Mottzare reached out without thinking, but stopped his hand partway.

Then he looked at Matar.

Apparently, he had reached out according to instinct, then checked with Matar to see whether his action was acceptable.

Matar nodded silently.

Mottzare reached out again, took one piece of karaage... and carried it to his mouth.

“Hoff, ho...”

Apparently, even a muscular man found hot food hot.

But...

“Delicious...”

The word slipped out after he ate it.

“We had them make plenty, so eat as much as you like.”

Abel told him with a smile.

Head Chef Kovac nodded.

“King Abel.”

“Ah, my apologies, Chief Matar. I acted on my own, but would you forgive my selfishness?”

“Of course... of course. Forgive is far too presumptuous a word. I am the one who should be grateful...”

Abel spoke with a smile, and Matar nodded again and again while watching Mottzare begin to eat the karaage with obvious relish.

Incidentally, beside Mottzare, a man in a white robe was eating as if determined not to lose.

He and the Mottzare beside him were smiling at each other.

Of course, it was Ryo.

“He froze Mottzare...”

“Believe it or not, he is the Premier Duke of our Knightley Kingdom.”

“What?”

“He is also the foremost water-attribute magician in the Central Countries.”

“...He eats with such delight.”

“Doesn’t he? He is the kind of man who would insist that delicious food must be the key to world peace.”

“World peace... That is grand indeed.”

Matar showed surprise despite his smile at Abel’s words.

Yes.

No one knew how vast the world truly was.

And yet, if one spoke of “world peace”...

Grand was the only word for it.

“Still, when I see something like this, I find myself thinking it may not be entirely impossible.”

“Yes. Even chiefs and kings, who should understand the difficulty of peace better than anyone... find themselves thinking so. An interesting thing.”

Abel nodded at Matar’s words.

In the conference room, a peace led there by food began to spread.