Before the Storm: Act 8, Chapter 3
Chapter 3
Ainz folded his hands on the table, making a show of giving Baroness Zahradnik’s query plenty of serious thought. No, it wasn’t as if he wasn’t giving it serious thought, it was just that nothing came of it no matter how much he tried.
Even in his previous existence as Suzuki Satoru, rules favoured the rulers and justice was merely a word. Arguments between Ulbert and Touch Me were about as much exposure as he had to it. Ulbert in particular would go on about the injustice of the world and his fellow guild members grew concerned when his real-world gripes started to blend with his ‘evil’ online persona.
He suspected that the Baroness would be markedly unimpressed by Ulbert’s views on the matter. Touch Me often pointed out that Ulbert’s ideas on justice were little more than romantic notions that revolved around ignorant opinions on fairness. The Baroness, on the other hand, sought practical solutions to the societal issues faced by the Sorcerous Kingdom.
Ainz’s nebulous concept of justice bounced around in his empty skull as nonexistent drops of sweat formed on the equally nonexistent skin of his brow. He was supposed to be the king, yet he felt like his old salaryman self being questioned by a company executive. Unable to come up with anything that might impress the Baroness, he resorted to the default tactic of salesmen since time immemorial: ask leading questions until he identified something to turn to his advantage.
His eyes went to Aura and Mare, whose eyes shone with their expectations for his answer.
“For the benefit of Aura and Mare here,” he said, “we should walk through how we may come up with a realistic framework through which the Sorcerous Kingdom’s justice is upheld. I would hate it if they grow up thinking that such monumental systems are arbitrarily derived.”
“Of course, Your Majesty,” the young noblewoman smiled.
Yosh.
Lady Zahradnik seemed to have a soft spot for children, so Ainz figured she would readily agree. As a result, he had gained an extra layer of defence against her scrutiny. If things went well, he might even be able to learn something useful.
“To begin with,” the Baroness said, “what is the root of justice?”
“E-Everything that Ainz-sama says is right.”
“That’s right,” Aura nodded. “Ainz-sama can’t possibly be wrong!”
Ainz resisted the urge to bury his face in his palm as his plan immediately went awry.
“Now, now,” he said, “I’ve told you many times before that even I can make mistakes. Zahradnik-dono, why don’t you get us started on the right foot?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. The root of justice is nature. A species’ instincts, behaviour, and place in the environment act as the baseline for what is perceived as positive or negative; what is relatable and what one empathises with. In other words, the foundation of morality is dependent on the nature of a race. Morality, in turn, is foundational to one’s sense of justice. Even in the most primitive of tribal societies, there is a sense of right and wrong shared by the entire community. What one should and shouldn’t do becomes codified into rudimentary law. As order establishes itself, so does the social contract. This social contract tends to be upheld by the judiciary of a government, whether it be a council or tribal elders or the high court of an empire.”
“And this is why it’s so difficult for different races to get along,” Ainz said. “You mentioned the justice of sheep being detrimental to wolves.”
“Indeed,” Lady Zahradnik replied. “Re-Estize and the Empire provide many examples of how Human justice – I suppose most races would consider it ‘the justice of sheep’ – deals with other races. Entire institutions are created to remove what are perceived as threats to Human life and economic productivity.”
“Such as the Adventurer Guild,” Ainz said. “Or the Imperial Army.”
Baroness Zahradnik nodded.
“There is a painfully obvious bias in Human countries when it comes to interactions with species other than their own. Re-Estize and the Empire went to war every year, yet they still host each others’ embassies, trade with one another openly, and even share family ties. Compare that to their mutual reaction to a tribe of Goblins living in the wilderness beyond their borders.”
“As Frontier Nobles,” Ainz said, “shouldn’t your family have existed at the forefront of that thinking?”
“In my experience,” the Baroness replied, “it tends to be the opposite. People from the heartlands and especially the cities tend to react more poorly to interactions with wilderness tribes. I suppose it is because all of the ‘exciting’ tales that they hear instil them with certain preconceptions.”
“Yet the wilderness tribes do attack,” Ainz noted. “Raids along the frontier are not merely tales spun by Bards for entertainment.”
“And those are mostly the result of two forms of justice coming into conflict. House Zahradnik survived for as long as it did not because it prevailed over every tribe it contended with, but because it developed an understanding of tribal justice. Through that understanding, we could prevent most conflicts before they happened.”
“But didn’t we just say that different forms of justice make it so that people can’t get along?” Aura asked.
The ghost of a smile touched the young noblewoman’s lips.
“Yes, my lady,” she answered. “At the same time, it is from our relationship with our tribal neighbours that I gained my first hints as to how proper justice might be established in the Sorcerous Kingdom. Through countless interactions over the centuries, a rudimentary sense of shared customs has been established in the area. A moral thread that determines what is acceptable and what the consequences for crossing certain lines are.”
“How did you use it to defend your Area?” Mare asked.
“It informed us as to how we should act to minimise overly violent incidents with the tribes. One wouldn’t be wrong to say that we adopted the same code of justice to survive. We were the outsiders when it came to that, after all.”
“I see,” Ainz stroked his chin thoughtfully. “So by conforming to the overarching culture of the tribes and thus drawing a relation to their sense of justice, it made things easier for your people to function on the frontier.”
This was one of the basics of adult society. New employees conformed to workplace culture or they would have a difficult time surviving. Now that the Baroness had defined the roots of justice, Ainz could see workplace culture as being similar to tribal justice. There were all sorts of unwritten rules beyond the letter of the law and everyone just went along with the punishments should some unfortunate soul violate one of them.
“It is hardly a novel concept,” Lady Zahradnik said. “The problem is that few consider adopting what they might consider alien or primitive. People are more likely to throw around terms like ‘barbarism’ and ‘savagery’ than they are to give any serious thought into how and why things work the way that they do.”
“But why do we have to conform to how other people do things?” Aura asked, “They just have to do what Ainz-sama tells them to and there won’t be any problems!”
“Is that an Elf’s perspective on the matter, Lady Aura?”
“It should be everyone’s perspective,” Aura replied. “People who don’t listen to Ainz-sama should be punished.”
Beside Aura, Mare nodded in agreement. The Baroness placed her hands on the table, staring silently at the books and notes spread out along its length.
“Justice that does not serve the people tends to result in tragedy,” Lady Zahradnik said. “The civilisation that we have been studying for the past few days is an example of this. Is…is this the type of society Your Majesty desires? There must be hundreds of books in the Great Library covering their history.”
“Absolutely not,” Ainz’s answer was immediate. “If anything, I would prefer that we avoid their situation entirely.”
“That is a relief to hear,” the young noblewoman smiled and turned her attention back to Aura and Mare. “Now, based on what we have learned of this civilisation, how would you describe the form of their justice?”
Aura and Mare hmm’d for a few moments. Though he had a lot to say as someone who had to exist in the civilisation that they were studying, he refrained from answering the question out of a creeping worry that he might end up sounding like Ulbert on one of his rants.
“The rulers were strong,” Aura said, “so the people had to go along with whatever they decided.”
“They controlled pretty much everything,” Mare added, then frowned. “But I don’t understand why that’s bad. If Ainz-sama did all that, wouldn’t it be good?”
“Maybe it’s bad because they weren’t Ainz-sama,” Aura ventured.
The Baroness glanced at Ainz again. It wasn’t his fault that the NPCs were so fanatically loyal to him, but he still felt guilty whenever she received one of their arbitrary answers.
“How about we consider things from the perspective of the common citizens?” Lady Zahradnik said.
“Ainz-sama can do whatever he wants to me!” Mare said as he bounced enthusiastically on his chair.
Imaginary sirens blared in Ainz’s head. He cleared his nonexistent throat, acting to prevent something from happening. He wasn’t sure what would happen, but it surely wouldn’t be good in various ways.
“Zahradnik-dono is asking how the common citizens feel about how society treats them,” he said. “Whether their basic needs are met, the availability of opportunities, and so on.”
“Mmh…it looked like the people who followed the rules got enough food to survive. It didn’t sound very tasty though.”
“If they wanted better food,” Aura said, “they should’ve followed Ainz-sama instead.”
I can’t win.
No matter how he twisted and turned, the NPCs seemed to always find ways to express their unwavering loyalty. This time, Suzuki Satoru’s meagre savings were instantly vaporised as collateral damage.
“While poorly trained administrators may consider sustenance as a mere quota to be fulfilled,” Lady Zahradnik said, “its quality can have an outsized effect on the public sentiment and its value is not limited to enjoyment. Consider the Quagoa, for instance. They can consume iron, copper, and other common metals, but what their offspring can become is dependent on what they are fed. Therefore, the availability of quality food weighs far more heavily on a Quagoa population’s opinion of their quality of life.”
“But the Sorcerous Kingdom’s Quagoa mostly eat common metals…”
“Umu,” Ainz crossed his arms. “For the time being, the Sorcerous Kingdom largely depends on imports for ore and metalwork in general – mostly from the Dwarves. I promised prosperity to them when they submitted to my rule, but, as a country, the Sorcerous Kingdom can’t realistically provide Adamantite to every Quagoa.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Lady Zahradnik nodded, “as a country, the Sorcerous Kingdom cannot realistically provide Mithril, never mind Adamantite to every Quagoa household. Nor should it. While we call it a social contract, it is more flexible than any formal contract between parties. Within it, amongst other things, are harboured the expectations for security, opportunity, and overall quality of life. In exchange, those who choose to participate in that particular society are expected to observe its laws and customs. People compare one social contract against another – though they likely do not frame it as such – to determine where their best prospects lie.”
“So all we have to do is be better than anyone else?” Aura said, “That’s easy! The Sorcerous Kingdom is already the best country in the world.”
“Because Ainz-sama is here,” added Mare.
“While we may agree on that,” Lady Zahradnik said, “others will not. You do bring up a good point, however. Emotional and economic investment in one’s current home may heavily skew how one feels about it. Similarly, those factors will influence things like trade and foreign relations for outsiders.”
Aura’s expression soured.
“Foreign relations? I thought we were supposed to be talking about the justice of the Sorcerous Kingdom.”
“Since His Majesty wishes for amicable relations with both members of our hegemony and those beyond our immediate sphere of influence, it is something that we must consider. Unfortunately, the Sorcerous Kingdom will most likely fail to appeal to everyone.”
“I-I-I’m not going to fail Ainz-sama!”
“For what reasons do you predict failure?” Ainz asked.
The Baroness took two books from the nearby piles on the table, placing each under one hand. One looked like it was one of Blue Planet’s crazy books while the other was a proper history of Earth.
“Irreconcilable differences between value systems and the resulting clashes of culture and justice are not restricted to relations between a country and its tribal neighbours. The more steps we take toward realising Your Majesty’s wishes for the Sorcerous Kingdom, the more solid of a target different aspects of our society will be for those who disagree with them.”
“That isn’t necessarily a problem for us, is it?” Ainz said, “It’s unreasonable to expect every country to be the same.”
“It is as Your Majesty says,” Lady Zahradnik replied. “Unfortunately, tolerance is unlikely to solve many of the problems that come with having such neighbours.”
“If they attack us,” Aura said, “then we’ll squish ‘em.”
“Few would be so straightforward with their convictions if they are aware of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s martial might. The Temples of the Four in our region are a good example of how future problems might play out. Rather than attack us directly, they use their influence over the people, creating cultural, economic, and political barriers. As a result, our overall progress in the Empire is many times slower than it should be. Strategically speaking, it is the most efficient way to resist us: if the Temples incited violence against the Sorcerous Kingdom or the Imperial Administration, they would give us the justification to intervene and Lady Albedo would not waste any time purging undesirable elements.”
“Is this going to happen everywhere?”
“I believe the reaction to the Sorcerous Kingdom’s opening moves as the regional hegemon is a fair example of what we will encounter abroad,” the Baroness said. “We will have pragmatic groups like the wilderness tribes whose societal paradigms make submitting to strength the obvious choice. Identifying and capitalising on existing crises can also help us cut through bureaucracy and address erroneous preconceptions that may otherwise take years or decades to dispel. Others, like the Empire, may peacefully become members of our hegemony and slowly adapt to their new circumstances.”
“And what of those who refuse to get along?” Ainz asked, “Re-Estize has known of our existence for about as long as the Baharuth Empire has, yet there is little sign of progress with them on the diplomatic front.”
The Baroness folded her hands on the table, her gaze becoming unfocused.
“Despite both being neighbouring Human countries that have many cultural parallels,” she said after a few moments, “it is hardly fair to measure our relationship with both countries by the same standard. In the case of the Baharuth Empire, Your Majesty brilliantly won the Emperor over through what must have been an act to surpass even the legends of old. Since the Empire had become so highly centralised with little to keep the sovereign’s power in check, it meant that the entire country would come over to our side, as well.”
While the young woman spoke, Ainz silently prayed that she wouldn’t ask what exactly it was that he did because he didn’t know himself. He had gone to Arwintar to promote the Sorcerous Kingdom’s new Adventurer Guild and came back with a client state instead.
“Re-Estize, on the other hand,” the Baroness continued, “is still very much a kingdom where checks and balances would keep House Vaiself from doing the same thing. One would not only have to win over the royal family, but each Noble house, as well. It would be far easier to woo individual Nobles to our side than it would be to take the Kingdom in one piece. That being said, our strategy in Re-Estize is entirely different from what happened with the Empire.”
“Shouldn’t the trouble we’re having with Re-Estize mean that similarities between societies don’t help them get along?” Mare asked, “Ainz-sama said that we should use the laws of Re-Estize. By your logic, Human countries should be more friendly to us.”
“It may seem that way from our perspective, my lord,” Lady Zahradnik answered, “but the fact of the matter is that the Kingdom of Re-Estize does not recognise us as a Human country. Neither does the Baharuth Empire, for that matter. We are still considered a land overrun by Undead and Demons by the people of both.”
“B-But we’re not?”
“The truth matters little in this regard. What matters is what people think is true. I fear that we will be facing a similar set of challenges wherever we find ourselves.”
“Isn’t that a bad thing?”
“It is what it is. What matters is that we face those challenges and develop solutions for them. Now, back to the domestic side of things. As a member of the Royal Court, how would my lady propose to uphold the justice of the Sorcerous Kingdom?”
“Make laws, I guess?” Aura said.
“That is one available avenue,” the Baroness nodded. “How would you structure those laws? Forget devising punishments for the time being: I want to know the rules and measures through which you will guide the citizens of the Sorcerous Kingdom, forming the society that His Majesty desires.”
Hah? What’s with this difficulty spike?
They had gone from discussing the building blocks of society and its effect on foreign relations straight to moulding the character of a civilisation. Wasn’t her question too complex for children? He was lucky she hadn’t turned to him for the answer right then and there.
“Everyone seems to think that killing your own people is bad,” Aura said, “let’s go with that, first.”
“Th-That’s right,” Mare nodded. “If people are dead, they can’t pay taxes to Ainz-sama.”
“The relationship between population and productivity is indeed something that governments tend to focus on,” Lady Zahradnik said. “Not only does a person dying mean that their contributions to society are cut short, but the investment that went into their development is no longer generating returns. In the guild system, the average time it takes an apprentice to graduate to journeyman is six years. If said journeyman is murdered in an alley shortly after they graduate, the six years invested is a complete loss. Not only that, a government’s investments into maintaining the infrastructure and security similarly go unrewarded as far as that individual is concerned. The more technically demanding a job is and the more complex and expansive a country’s systems are, the higher the cost to develop the population becomes.”
“Does that mean it’s worth it to resurrect people who are valuable enough?” Mare asked.
“I imagine that countries with access to resurrection magic do exactly that,” the Baroness answered. “Now, by implementing a law against killing citizens, you have created another problem: the citizens who would normally prey on your other citizens have been denied their usual source of food. From their perspective, you have implemented an unjust law.”
“They can buy food from the market!” Aura said.
“How can they afford food from the market?”
“By working. Isn’t that obvious?”
“Yes and no,” the young noblewoman said. “The line of thinking that you just used is common amongst urbanites, but it is a woefully insufficient answer for a ruler. To purchase food from the markets, that food needs to be procured in some manner. To find work, there must be demand for one’s capabilities in some productive activity and the rewards for participating as a functional member of society must outweigh the alternatives.”
Hah…I’ve caused a lot of trouble for everyone.
As he thought about his thoughtlessness, Ainz felt like disappearing under the table. As far as his policies on employment went, it was just a vague suggestion that everyone should do what they were good at. It never occurred to him that, even if someone was good at something, it didn’t necessarily mean that there was a demand for it. Even if there initially was, adding millions of Demihumans to the labour market surely meant it wasn’t the case any longer.
His notions on trade were similar. When he had gone to negotiate with the Azerlisian Mountain Dwarves, he proposed that the agricultural produce rapidly stockpiling in the Sorcerous Kingdom could be traded for ores and metalwork produced by the Dwarves. This was out of a desire to maximise Nazarick’s income from the Sorcerous Kingdom’s agricultural production. He hadn’t given any thought whatsoever as to whether his subjects would be able to eat.
In other words, despite his intention of creating a harmonious, prosperous country that everyone could admire, he had become no better than a corrupt, untouchable ruler who exploited his people for his house’s gain. The only reason people outside of Nazarick didn’t notice was because they assumed that the funds and resources collected through taxes and rent went to the national budget and had no way of knowing otherwise. The lack of transparency itself violated the laws that they imposed on everyone else.
Rules for rulers, indeed. No, no, no, it can’t be that bad, can it?
“On that note, Zahradnik-dono,” Ainz said, “how do you think the Sorcerous Kingdom has fared on that front? Say, through our relationship with the Dwarves.”
“Just the Dwarves, Your Majesty?”
“Let’s keep things simple for Aura and Mare’s sake.”
“Very well. Broadly speaking, I believe that we have established a mutually beneficial relationship that should serve as a model for future diplomacy with small countries.”
“I see,” Ainz nodded sagely. “Is there anything in particular that you like about it?”
“Attributing the benefits to any single aspect would not do the whole justice, so I will try to be as concise as possible. Imports of ore and refined metals to the Sorcerous Kingdom have stimulated many industries. Most notably are those related to transportation and logistics, which will be essential in the future.”
“How has the Sorcerous Kingdom benefitted?”
“Only a handful of houses were ready to fully capitalise on the unexpected initiation of diplomacy and trade with the Dwarves – namely House Corelyn, House Wagner, and House Gagnier. I also invested what I could at Countess Corelyn’s urging. Due to this, our combined interests control the majority of land trade based in the Sorcerous Kingdom as well as all of its maritime trade.”
Ainz flinched as the Ulbert in his heart spit on him. Not only was he a comically corrupt ruler, but he had created a cadre of cronies who controlled huge chunks of the country and its economy. Peroroncino appeared as well, but he mentally waved everyone away before he spouted something Peroroncino-like.
“What of the people themselves?” Ainz asked.
“When a Noble speaks of their house in this context,” the Baroness answered, “it generally refers to the house’s subjects as well. They are all part of the same establishment, after all. If Your Majesty is asking about the population as a whole, the best way to describe what is going on is to outline the demographic shifts happening in the Kingdom. The territories in the south and east are leading these shifts – again those of the houses I mentioned just now – along with the capital.
“Growth in industries related to transportation and logistics has fuelled a demand for skilled labour. Humans, who are suited for the pure Job Class builds favoured by these industries, are flocking to both the government-run technical schools and traditional guild establishments to pursue careers in those fields. The jobs that they leave behind, which are mostly physical labour, are being snapped up by much stronger or more resilient Demihumans.”
“Won’t that create a problem wherein Demihumans are looked down upon?”
“That depends on the resident culture, Your Majesty,” Baroness Zahradnik replied. “Followers of The Six do not believe that any one vocation has inherently greater value over any other, so one will not experience any notions of the sort of…pecking order in the southern territories unless an outsider brings the idea of it in with them. Elsewhere, however, it may be as Your Majesty says unless an active effort is made to curb such behaviours. This is a problem not caused by Your Majesty’s manoeuvring in the Dwarf Kingdom, however – it is one inherited through the culture of the northern Human countries.
“In conclusion, Your Majesty’s decision to initiate relations with the Azerlisian Mountain Dwarves can only be seen as the move of a ruler with inscrutable foresight, laying solid groundwork for the Sorcerous Kingdom’s future ambitions in so many ways that I suspect that we will not realise the full scope of Your Majesty’s grand vision for decades to come, if ever.”
Ugh, my stomach hurts.
Across the table, Aura and Mare’s mouths were open in wide smiles; their eyes shining with unadulterated awe and admiration. Ainz couldn’t decide whether knowing or not knowing the precise details of his supposed genius was worse.
“Now,” Lady Zahradnik said, “we have been so kindly guided to the next topic and its effect on the perceived justness of a society. Lord Mare; Lady Aura, are you ready to hear more of His Majesty’s wisdom?”
“Yeah!” Aura cheered.
“Un,” Mare nodded. “I can go all night long!”
“Excellent,” the Baroness smiled. “With so many exciting things to learn from His Majesty, I am sure that the many hours to come will simply fly by.”