I Became The Leader Of A Revolution In A Romance Fantasy

< Chapter 33: Empress’s Reign – 2 >

Knowing what happens in the future is not much different from knowing the present.

“What’s the point of knowing the present when it’s just right in front of us?”

one might think, but from the perspective of someone trying to change that future, it’s not the same.

Knowing about an event that will inevitably happen means understanding how things must get twisted from now on for that mess to occur.

So I started doing what I do best.

“The Logres Empire is the greatest nation on earth, and this can be scientifically proven!”

“Ah, I wish I could live in the Empire.”

“Are you curious as to why the people of such a great Empire are suffering like this?”

Eugene Hastings’ wholehearted performance. Curtain up.

###

The capital of the Empire, Camelot.

A city full of those thirsty for national pride.

The greatness and strength that the Empire once enjoyed were like brackish water to them.

When a thirsty person drinks brackish water, they become even more dehydrated. They are clearly drinking water, yet their thirst is not quenched.

The nonsense I spewed was, metaphorically speaking, something like pouring seawater into their throats with a funnel.

“The Empire is the greatest nation in history. Are there people who deny that?”

“All the cultures of the old world were essentially built upon the legacy of the Empire. All the achievements of our time would have been impossible without the Empire and its great citizens.”

“The last Great War was actually won by the Empire, not the Allied Forces. Though the Old Kingdom’s army won the battles, the moment the Empire cut off the sea routes, they had no choice but to wither away. The Empire, which designed the strategic victory, and the others, obsessed with tactical victories. That’s roughly how the victors of the ‘First World War’ can be divided.”

“What? What do you mean by ‘First World War’? Oh, it was just a slip of the tongue. Hahaha.”

As a result of several days of media play, every notable media outlet in the Empire had sent reporters.

A former war hero of a once enemy nation.

And a revolutionary leader who abolished the monarchy.

The impact was beyond imagination when such a high-risk individual started whispering what the Empire’s people were thirsty to hear.

One reporter stopped taking notes and looked up.

“Congressman. You said it was a slip of the tongue, but it’s hard to just laugh it off. Isn’t saying ‘First World War’ like predicting there will be a Second World War?”

“Hmm.”

I tightly wrapped up the tale I had been unraveling. Then, resting my chin on my hand, I pondered the reporter’s question.

For a moment, I pretended to be contemplating what to do.

Then I sighed, as if I had made a decision.

“There won’t be a new war in the near future. However, the embers of the ‘unfinished old war’ will reignite.”

The reporters, who had sighed in relief at my first words, stiffened up again.

I covered my mouth, feigning the look of someone flustered by the weight of my own words.

And I hid my smile.

‘It seems appropriately dramatic.’

The quality of the script only needs to be average.

The important thing is the delivery.

#

「Eugene Hastings Discusses Defeat!」

「The Empire’s Nemesis Says the War Isn’t Over Yet.」

「A Pyrrhic Victory? There’s a Reason the Empire Suffers.」

The newspapers that poured out the next day.

The front pages were all mine.

Ms. Lize prepared drinks along with the newspapers.

A cold beverage poured with a trickling sound.

It felt like this place was truly my congressional office.

“Thank you.”

I briefly thanked Ms. Lize, took a sip from the cup, and unfolded the newspaper.

It was the start of my well-established morning routine, so familiar that I didn’t need to check anything with my eyes.

That was my mistake.

Iced Americano. The only caffeine regulator allowed by the government. The fuel that essentially kept the Republic of Korea running.

Instead of the stable and familiar barley tea flavor with a hint of ‘roasted bean aroma,’ my mouth was filled with a strange soap taste.

“Pfth!”

“Congressman?!”

I belatedly checked the cup.

And my face contorted mercilessly.

“My god…”

Like a sign of the empire’s fading destiny, the cold sunset-colored liquid monster still filled the cup halfway, sloshing around.

– Hello? I’m black tea!

They turned a perfectly fine foreign country into a colony. After completely bulldozing the land where the locals used to grow their own food, they turned it into a nursery to produce a soap-flavored beverage that no one but themselves drank.

This horrible and grotesque liquid produced that way was black tea, the very materialization of the bloody stench of imperialism and feudalistic heresy.

“Sigh, Ms. Lize. I think we’ve stayed in this damned country for too long.”

Suddenly, it hit me hard that I was performing like a clown in the land of people who drank soap. The realization of that moment was indescribable.

Knock, knock.

Just then, a knocking sound came from the door.

Considering who would be at the foreign minister’s couple’s private residence in the empire at this hour, it was obvious.

So without asking about the visitor’s identity, I nodded to Ms. Lize.

When she opened the door, it was indeed the father and daughter duo I had expected.

Congressman Roche didn’t hide his skeptical expression.

“Is this really going to help?”

As he naturally sat next to me, the front page of the newspaper he handed over depicted me leading soldiers toward the Logres Islands, looking like some kind of demon.

Ms. Lize’s eyes darkened.

“…How dare they slander the Congressman like this.”

I heard the grinding sound of her teeth, a true model of an aide.

I chuckled and restrained her performative loyalty, then read the headline aloud.

“A few years ago known as the ‘Armor Breaker’ and ‘Thousand-Slasher’ Eugene Albert Wulfric Hastings. Now he must be called the ‘Crownbreaker.’ The traitor and betrayer didn’t hide his hideous intentions, claiming that the war isn’t over yet…”

Blah, blah, blah.

The endless expressions of hatred and anger.

I chuckled and closed the newspaper.

Congressman Roche looked at me with a bewildered expression.

“Do you find this funny? Convincing the Prime Minister should have been enough. Why do something unnecessary that worsens public opinion about the Republic?”

“Why does saying that the war isn’t over worsen public opinion about the Republic?”

“?”

This time, Congressman Roche looked genuinely puzzled.

With a skillful telepathy that seemed to say, ‘Did I seriously misjudge this person?’ he cautiously continued.

“The Empire is also suffering from an unprecedented terrible recession right now. If they start looking for the reason for this pain in the war, our lives will become very tiring.”

“Why?”

“Why, you ask? We were the Empire’s enemy, for god’s sake!”

Congressman Roche, with a face like someone being repeatedly asked the answer to 1+1, exploded in frustration.

But I smiled broadly.

When someone keeps insisting that 1+1 equals 3, how can I not ask about it?

“Congressman, isn’t your point essentially this? The Empire and the Republic were enemies. So if negative sentiments about the last war keep surfacing within the Empire, the upper echelons of the Empire might feel burdened to cooperate with us. Is that correct?”

“And! It’s not just hinting at a war but outright suggesting that there will be a next war. What on earth are you thinking?”

I tilted my head in confusion.

“I don’t understand. Congressman, are we the victors?”

“…What?”

Congressman Roche furrowed his brow.

And three seconds later.

As his furrowed brow slowly relaxed, his face turned to one of surprise.

“Ah…”

It seemed he understood.

I nodded and continued speaking.

“That’s right. The Republic, or rather the old kingdom, lost. We were the ones utterly crushed, destroyed to the roots.”

“…That may be true, but continually associating with negative sentiments…”

I interrupted Congressman Roche’s hesitant words.

“We need to cultivate negative sentiment. What is our objective?”

“To break the treaty of defeat and propose a new compensation plan by seeking the Empire’s cooperation.”

Oh no, that’s not it.

“It’s to shatter the ‘Alliance’ that is united under the name of the victors.”

“!”

“The Empire won. But why is the victor not rewarded but suffering through an unprecedented, horrible recession? That question has always been within the Empire’s citizens. We need to unleash that sentiment in the direction we want.”

“…Is that possible? Can we really make them believe that this mess is due to their own allies? Even if that’s possible, what on earth are you talking about with the Second World War?!”

That’s just an unadulterated, straightforward prophecy.

However, saying that outright would immediately change Congressman Roche’s gaze to one of contempt for a madman, so for now, I’ll keep the truth to myself.

I smiled quietly.

“The Empire was robbed of its victory.”

“What?”

“The Empire won. But it gained nothing. The forced burden of the war’s losses caused the national economy to crumble. The Empire, originally the greatest country in the world with the strongest economy, and the nation of the most superior people, is now suffering because of the traitors disguised as allies. Furthermore, they have left the embers of war burning, solely to satisfy their petty vengeance.”

As I continued my speech with passionate gestures, I smiled at my three audience members, who stared at me as if they were entranced.

“A deep wound from behind. All of this is because the internal enemies, the enemies behind the scenes, stabbed the Empire in the back.”

The reason your lives are screwed up is absolutely not your fault. What you were supposed to enjoy was much greater and more desirable, but because of ‘those bastards,’ you are now living miserably.

What a sweet truth this is.