Supersum: Living in another world [LitRPG Transmigration Fantasy]

...

"Mr. Alexander, please calm down."

Alexander paced back and forth, tail lashing so wildly it knocked over candleholders and fruit bowls. His eyes darted, hair and fur disheveled—a bundle of raw nerves. "Listen, this is serious!" he said, turning sharply toward Melina. "We need the entire military mobilized—scorch the island if we have to!"

Melina sighed, her face set sternly even though Alexander practically whirled around her in his agitation. "Mr. Alexander, I—"

"You're right!" he cut her off. "We need the Temple here. Hire every mercenary we can afford! And if all else fails, call my grandma and let her go wild!"

Melina's concern deepened. "Mr. Alexander…"

Alexander's mind churned with possibilities. He ignored whatever Melina said and tried to find any strategy to eliminate the threat he experienced as quickly as possible. "We need to raze them…" he mumbled.

"Do—"

"No, we should capture them first," he continued, scarcely pausing for breath. "Interrogate them. Waterboarding, electroshock—whatever works. I picked up a few techniques from those Americans—"

Her voice took on a sharper edge, and she channeled a small spell to ensure he heard every syllable. "Mr. Alexander! Stand still for one second!"

The sudden burst of sound made him wince. "Yes?"

Melina exhaled, regaining her composure. "Thank you. Now, consider the bigger picture. Suppose you involve your parents immediately, especially given that you survived and still have the support of the Eros Alliance Leader and several Clan Leaders. In that case, it will spark a political scandal. Right now, they're letting you take the reins. If you escalate recklessly, you'll force their hand and cause a chain reaction, especially with Dame Pascal's not-so-subtle hatred of the former Lady."

He hesitated, taking her words in. "When did you get so politically savvy?"

She offered a tight smile, and her spider-kin eyes briefly flared with color. "You had Ms. Anastasia teach your retainers, remember? After you only needed her advice, there was no need for her to be your educator, and instead, you assigned her to us, your retainers."

He slowly shook off his panic. "All right," he muttered. "Any other suggestions?"

Melina squared her shoulders. "Finalize the current deal, then head to the Pure-Steam Island front—from the gossip I heard, it's basically a done deal, and discarding it would be a great mistake."

Alexander opened his mouth to protest but stopped himself when Melina spoke again. "Mr. Alexander, whatever you're afraid of—whatever you want to stop—ask yourself: is it truly that urgent?"

He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply to center himself. Oyaras had threatened to unearth technology that would bring unimaginable devastation. Still, she also seemed almost frantic, as though her plan hinged on his possessing some key knowledge—maybe it wasn't quite so imminent.

'I overreacted,' he told himself, calming down as he reflected on that. However, a nagging voice cautioned him not to dismiss the danger completely. He still lacked all the information, and while his initial reaction had been extreme, staying too calm was not the right approach either.

Alexander needed more information about the group Oyaras belonged to and their progress in collecting earthlings, especially considering the strange steampunk technology he had observed.

He glanced at Lili, sprawled on the bed, giving him her usual half-lidded stare. She'd taken some injuries during the fight but could move around after Ipe's healing. Her ego seemed the bigger casualty; Oyaras's hypnosis technique had left Lili powerless to protect Alexander, which clearly bruised her ego.

Her grandmother trained Lili, and she became a powerhouse in her own right. While she achieved the first conjecture, Oyaras was at the second. The qualitative difference was too significant and could only be bridged through body enhancements, divine interventions, or the use of artifacts—nothing of that the fauna had to any considerable extent.

He forced a smile and asked, "So what's your take? Part of me wants to scour the island clean."

Lili responded by sticking out her tongue—a playful, doglike gesture. Yet the aura she radiated made Alexander shudder; she was out for blood. "I'll kill anyone who tries to hurt you," she said flatly. "But first, you should consider our real weakness."

He inclined his head. "Which is?"

"You can't defend yourself against soul attacks."

"Pretty much," he admitted.

She drew a slow breath. "You only survived through sheer luck," she said, her tone grim. "Or, more specifically, your bloodline did the work."

It was common knowledge that every race on Orbis had strengths and weaknesses. There were numerous exceptions inside any race, but exceptions wouldn't exist without a rule.

Beast Kin excelled at survivability. They could adapt to any environment and use it to their advantage—some more, some less. Furries possessed overwhelming physical might. Faunas were highly spiritually inclined. Nature dwellers could use divine abilities that borrowed power from Orbis itself. Humans had divine skills that would propel a few into positions of unimaginable power, i.e., the hero, sage, and saint, making them unstoppable powerhouses. Dwarves and gnomes had an intrinsically higher intellect and were masters of crafts. Djinns could thrive in their specific environments to an unstoppable degree, and so forth.

But weaknesses balanced these gifts. Beast Kin and Furries were vulnerable to soul attacks. Faunas had to prepare their spirits before every fight. Djinns and nature dwellers became useless in highly unsuitable environments. Humans were subpar on average, unable to compete with any other race.

Nobody ruled Orbis—it was an absolute rule of the world. It was a deadly game of rock, paper, scissors, in which to avoid being crushed by a rock, they had to shore up their vulnerabilities with allies. There was no best race, especially since new ones emerged at every second and ancient ones died out.

As such, Alexander wasn't ignorant enough to think he was perfect since he tried to fight his most significant weakness for months—his inability to eat chocolate.

Alexander nodded. "I know. My, uh, curse helped me out—overwhelming aggressiveness that seeped from my body into my soul. Not exactly an elegant solution."

Lili nodded. "We only call it now a curse as it doesn't fit well into the society we built, but in the past, because of this bloodline, the overwhelming aggressiveness, it would bleed into your soul and snuff out any intruders."

Alexander's expression darkened as he recalled the bizarre, disorienting battle within himself. "It was... very challenging," he couldn't reveal too much, answering carefully.

It was still a shock at how powerless he was. It was an experience that bordered on humiliation he didn't want to experience again.

Lili shrugged, then stood and stretched. "Well, if you want to defend yourself for real…"

He tilted his head, hopeful. "How?"

Her eyes gleamed. "By training, of course. You made mana as simple as building muscle. Now, you'll do the same for your soul."

Lili's expectations were quite adorable, but she wasn't wrong about the mana and magic part—he simplified it to some simplicities that removed all the mysticism, so much so that many students lost interest as quickly.

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Many learned solely lifestyle spells, like cleaning and conjuring food, without wanting to deepen their understanding of theory. There was a clear expectation that ended once they had to build constructs in the most efficient way possible algorithmically.

As such, Alexander understood Lili's expectation when she wanted him to break down the soul, but there was a problem—he couldn't sense it and had no way to do so.

Alexander grimaced. "But I don't even sense anything, and no Shaman will volunteer to help me."

Shamans—often found in races like the Djinn—safeguarded the mysteries of soul and spirit. Besides, he had no desire to let some stranger tamper with his mind again.

Lili smirked. "But you have me, don't you?"

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, oh wise one. Enlighten me."

She moved closer, her voice soft yet determined. "Find that space inside yourself. Control it. Make it yours, the same way you first conquered mana."

...

A few days later

Alexander walked the Ash Palace corridors, surrounded by elite guards. Heavy shadows clung beneath his eyes from lack of sleep. 'I've finally found something I genuinely struggle with,' he thought, recalling the grueling "soul training" Lili had put him through—complete with her gleeful jibes as she tested his defenses.

She only tugged at the outer parts, respecting his wish to go deeper, but even then, he died so many times inside him that it became a humiliating experience. The only skill he received was [Soul Arts], which rose to level 6, making it a little easier, but not what he had expected.

His arrogance had never blinded him to his limitations; he knew he wasn't all-powerful. Sarah would surpass him in martial arts within a few years. Narsiz wielded charisma like a superpower, mesmerizing crowds whenever he spoke. Lorient was a born commander, able to win the trust of the Strip of Hope as if she were part of it. Janina's artistic talents saw beauty and emotion in dimensions he couldn't begin to grasp.

His advantage sprang mainly from his reincarnated knowledge, and even that would fade over time as others discovered or improved upon his imported ideas.

One trait set him apart, though: sheer stubbornness. He'd drag the whole world forward with him, forcing the change he wished to see. That was also why so many followed him—a leader who lived by his ideals.

He trudged up floor after floor until he reached a small room tucked away in a corner of the palace—one that felt very much like his personal "strategy room." Pushing open the door, he found Lavafist, Pascal, Steel-Mountain, and Hearth-Fire already in discussion.

Barry and Lili accompanied him inside. Most of the others present didn't keep bodyguards, but Alexander's circumstances gave him little choice.

"Morning," he said. "What's new?"

Hearth-Fire and Steel-Mountain both inclined their heads in greeting. Lavafist hovered like a mountain over them, his expression stern.

"Thank you for helping us recover," said Hearth-Fire, her gaze fixed on Alexander while gently cupping her cheek. "Your cute Dryad friend was a treasure—his healing abilities were beyond compare~."

Steel-Mountain nodded. "Agreed." He lightly rotated his shoulders with ease. "Even my old injuries vanished like nothing."

Long-standing ties existed between Beast Kin and the Temple, part of a natural synergy since the Circle of Nature faith was only genuinely welcome in their territories. Elsewhere, planting a World Tree was seen as overreaching—a plant that gave the messenger of the region the power to control the land.

While it sounded like an easy way to use this as a means to conquer land, growing one to a reasonable size would take decades and require many resources.

Alexander took a seat. He greeted Lavafist with a nod. "What a nice forum we had, am I right?" The sarcasm was palpable.

Lavafist flashed a grin, leaning back. "Still wearing your earrings, I see. Thought you'd thrown them away by now?"

Alexander twisted an ear slightly. "They sort of fused to my skin, but hey—no big deal—they look cute, right?" He shrugged. "Anyway, can we skip those debates? I would like to present my proposal and come to a quick decision."

Pascal threw her head back and laughed. "No more lengthy speeches about peace and prosperity?" Her eyes sparkled with curiosity. "I thought you would spend the next few weeks haggling until we ensured that no poor farmer goes to bed hungry."

Alexander only rolled his eyes, countering. "Why? My charity will feed them what you probably couldn't." Pascal's smile thinned, but he ignored her. He withdrew a document from his spatial pouch and used mana to float it across the table. "Let's first seal a deal—I doubt you'll disagree with what's in here."

As they read, their smiles grew. The proposal—revised over a few days—divided the island into a perfect arrangement that considered the Essence Alliance, the Eros Alliance, and Moorgrelian laws. Anastasia's education in law and culture was invaluable in drafting it.

Typically, negotiations dragged on for months or even years, giving parties time to recover or shift alliances. But Alexander's thorough plan left little room for quibbling.

The most important key Points of the Proposal were as follows:

The island's central region, about half the territory, would be a free trade zone open to all three parties: Eros Alliance, Pascal, and Leonandra. Each faction had limited rights to propose or veto laws, ensuring no one could overpower the others with exceptions.

There would be four seats—one for Leonandra, one for Pascal, and two for the Eros Alliance. Alexander wanted to ensure that Lavafist wouldn't feel that he lost land to others.

The surrounding territory was split, with about 60% going to the Eros Alliance, 35% to Pascal, and 5% to Leonandra. Official trade corridors would be established to promote commerce and autonomy, preventing any territorial isolation—all in the graces of the Leonandra territory, which would give up it's for those and make them part of the free trade zone.

Pascal would gain practical independence in her new holdings via certain legal loopholes. Due to a bizarre law introduced during war periods in their council, someone who was legally surrounded by all sides gained full autonomy of the land, and not even the leader could say to them what they could do or not—the surroundings were due to Alexander's logistical corridors which were open to cross.

Other than that, her new territory was larger, had an autonomous peace deal with the Eros Alliance, and had more potential economic power than one could imagine—a sure way to make her more independent.

The Eros Alliance, meanwhile, eliminated a persistent problem while expanding its economic base and increasing its diplomacy. Yet, a problem still stood: losing territory, while not a big deal, was still partly uncomfortable. As such, he included something Lavafist couldn't resist—every new island Leonandra would conquer in the southern seas, part of the land would go to them, assuming they still had the same friendly relationship. The same was also true for Pascal.

Without going into too much detail, Alexander had to get them on his side, make it as worthwhile as possible, and future-proof it. Neighbors didn't like going to war, and fewer if their outfall would end in an economic bust and the end of highly lucrative arrangements.

It was basically the post-WWII strategy: integrating so much that starting a war would seem idiotic. Later, Alexander would expand all his new and old institutions into every nook and cranny he could, slowly gluing them together.

On the other hand, Leonandra's portion was kept small but viable, and additional security measures ensured it couldn't pose a threat. Other than that, due to the Moorgrelian deal with the central Mal-Gil Royalty, they were unable to conquer and hold territory officially. This piece of land was inside a weird legal limbo that he had no interest in discussing.

Additionally, his school already brought him gains. Due to his relatively diverse student body, he already asked for recognition, and the first one to agree was the Love Fief of the High Demons. A copy of the Lord's and Lady's letter was attached, making this a recognizable deal.

Pascal set down the proposal with a satisfied grin. "Clever, boy."

Hearth-Fire agreed. "Long-term thinking, are we~?"

Steel-Mountain was the last to read it. "Hm, how many troops do you need, Mr. Alexander?" His smile, elegant but greedy, shone through. "Of course, we would like to help the leader to make this little campaign as flawlessly as possible."

Last but not least, Lavafist's voice boomed. "Good idea." He smiled, understanding Alexander's proposal very well. "If you both help, you will get the seats."

Alexander's smile grew, his eyes pushing the tiredness away as everything went as perfectly as possible. Even his age didn't pose a problem since he was representing his Household, and inexperienced offspring leading was more common than not.

"Great!" He clapped his hands together. "Let's start with the finer details then, shall we?"

...

Days later

Alexander leaned over the railing of a modest transport ship as it cut through choppy waters. The smell of salt and seaweed hung in the brisk air, stirring his anticipation. The deck shuddered beneath him, and the sprawling harbor of the Pure-Steam Island loomed ahead.

They docked amid a chaotic array of ramshackle outposts, merchant tents, and battered vessels. Smoke curled from makeshift forges where blacksmiths hammered blades and armor. Rows of tents extended inland, each marked with varied sigils. From scuffed alleyways to haphazard walkways, the entire place reeked of hurried improvisation.

Stepping onto the pier, Alexander felt the crush of bodies all around: ragged Beast Kin fresh off distant battlefields, burly Furry mercenaries hefting supplies with ease, plus night elves, djinns, and an assortment of oddities who'd shown up to claim a stake. A few of Alexander's own servants scurried about, struggling to break language barriers.

Beyond them, rows of tents stretched into the distance, each marked with a mishmash of sigils. The metallic clang of hurried repairs, the bray of beasts of burden, and the occasional bellowed order filled the air with a grim urgency. Everywhere he looked, he saw weapons in various states of readiness—some gleaming and new, others battered from recent skirmishes.

Barry, stepping off the ship behind him, scanned the crowd with a practiced eye. "Quite the improvised force," he commented under his breath. "Not sure if these folks come out alive."

Lili hopped onto the pier with her typical languid grace, glancing over a group of soldiers attempting to assemble a crude barricade. "You really are rusty, are you?" she said. "This is not the Northern or Western front, but they look determined, at least."

Alexander nodded, his gaze tracking the swirling chaos, and more groups appeared before his eyes. Students were discussing and performing magic. Sometimes, sole high demons followed a young boy who looked overwhelmed, and the array of Guard Household soldiers, who were all so different, still sniffed themselves out.

'I feel sick,' Alexander's guts began to churn as he slowly realized what a mess he may have created. 'This is gonna be messy.'

His thoughts were interrupted by Aurum, who strutted forward, his eyes blazing with fury. 'What now?'

"Mr. Alexander," he said, bowing down. "You have a lot to do."