Chapter 75: Postwar Management

As he had declared, Zenon immediately resigned from his post as the Kingdom’s Financial Advisor.
He brushed aside all attempts to stop him and the fervent cheers of the public, swiftly setting out on the journey back to the Arkwright Territories.
The king, though astonished at Zenon’s remarkably clean departure, had no choice but to respect his decision.
However, he attached one condition:
“You must remain in the capital until the peace negotiations with the Galian Empire are concluded.”

(…Another hassle added.)
Zenon clicked his tongue inwardly but accepted it with resigned pragmatism.
Ending the war was still the commander’s duty.
At least, the final postwar arrangements had to be seen through.

A few days later,
peace negotiations with the Galian Empire began in a room of the royal castle.
Representing the Kingdom on behalf of the king were Zenon and Duke Wellington, the Minister of Foreign Affairs.
On the Empire’s side sat the captured Marshal Gaius and a delegation of bureaucrats hurriedly dispatched from the capital.
Their faces were etched with the humiliation of defeat and tense determination.

The first to speak at the negotiating table was Duke Wellington.
With the composed confidence of a seasoned diplomat, he presented the Kingdom’s demands with calm authority, radiating the assurance of victory.

“…Now then, Esteemed Empire, this war was truly regrettable. We sought peace, yet you trampled it unilaterally. You must atone for that.”

He demanded the return of prisoners, the redrawing of borders, and an enormous indemnity.
It was a natural expectation for the victorious side.

Yet the leader of the Empire’s delegation responded without changing expression.

“…Duke, we have heard your demands. But we cannot accept everything unconditionally. Undoubtedly, this battle was our defeat. Yet the strength of our Empire remains. Should these negotiations fail and war resume, your kingdom will not escape unscathed either.”

An implicit threat.

“We can still fight. Make unreasonable demands, and we are prepared to respond in kind.”

From there, the negotiations descended into a quagmire.
On the issue of reparations, neither side would budge.
When Duke Wellington used his cunning rhetoric to shake the opposition, the Imperial delegation countered with cold, logical reasoning.
A back-and-forth struggle.
Diplomacy, in this sense, was another battlefield where words were weapons.

Throughout this tense exchange,
Zenon remained silent.
He uttered not a word.
He simply folded his fingers, closed his eyes, and appeared as if napping.
The Imperial delegation began to internally underestimate the young hero.

(…Hmph. Skilled on the battlefield, but apparently weak at intellectual warfare like diplomacy. Just a provincial brawler, after all.)

Hours passed, and the negotiations reached a complete deadlock.
Then Zenon slowly opened his eyes.
For the first time, he spoke.
His words were abrupt and utterly ignored the room’s atmosphere.

“…Marshal Gaius.”

He did not address the Imperial chief negotiator, but the old general seated beside him.

“Your son now serves as a governor in the southern provinces of the Empire, correct? And your grandson is five years old this year. I have heard he is quite intelligent.”

“…Wha—!?”

Marshal Gaius’ face changed color.
How did this man know about his family in such detail?

Zenon continued without pause.

His voice was calm but carried terrifying pressure.

“And you, Lord Heinz, chief of the Empire’s delegation. Your son is excelling at the Imperial Magic Academy. Yet two years ago, he conducted forbidden magical research and nearly caused a major accident. …That fact is strictly hidden by the Academy’s upper management. But if it were made public, what would become of your family?”

“…Ahh!”

The color drained from the chief negotiator’s face.

It was the family’s greatest secret, unknown to anyone else.

Zenon slowly scanned the faces of each member of the Imperial delegation.
He calmly and precisely exposed their hidden secrets, weaknesses, and scandals one by one:
evidence of tax evasion, affairs, secret pacts with political rivals.
All had been meticulously gathered using informants throughout the Empire over the past few days.

The negotiating room froze.
The Imperial delegation could no longer negotiate.
Before them sat a boy who seemed like a demon, a terrifying entity capable of completely destroying their lives.

“…Now then,”

Zenon said quietly,

“Shall we continue negotiations? …Regarding the indemnity, I believe it would be acceptable to take double the amount initially proposed by Duke Wellington. …What do you think?”

This was no longer a question.
It was an ultimatum.
Marshal Gaius trembled, biting his lip.
After a long, agonizing silence,
he pressed his forehead weakly against the table.

“…We are utterly defeated… We will accept all demands.”

It was a historic moment—the unprecedented conclusion of a unilateral peace treaty in diplomatic history.
The Kingdom of Berstein achieved maximum gain at minimal cost.
And it was accomplished entirely by the intelligence strategy of a single boy.

After the negotiations,
Duke Wellington walked toward Zenon in disbelief.

“Zenon… Who exactly are you? Your method is not diplomacy… That was nothing less than blackmail.”

But his voice carried awe, not reproach.

“Not blackmail, Duke,”

Zenon replied calmly.

“That is the presentation of a B.A.T.N.A.”

“…BATNA?”

“Best Alternative To a Negotiated Agreement. In negotiations, it is the best alternative if an agreement cannot be reached. By making the other party understand that a worse outcome awaits if talks fail, you compel them to accept your demands. …The basics of negotiation.”

The incomprehensible jargon left Duke Wellington dumbfounded.
On that day, his pride, painstakingly built over years as a diplomat, was completely shattered.
And he realized, simultaneously, that this boy was truly a monster destined to shape the future of the kingdom.

Zenon’s unwilling battle had finally ended.
He had saved the nation and brought immense wealth to the Kingdom.
At last, he believed he was freed from all troublesome affairs.
Yet he did not know that the enormous results he had produced would soon sweep him into an even greater vortex of destiny.