Chapter 86: International Law

“Impossible! That’s a violation of international law!”

At the messenger’s report, General Newsbeck shot to her feet, her chair scraping harshly against the floor as her voice rang out—sharp, furious, and utterly incredulous.

More than a century ago, there had been a war so devastating that it could hardly be called anything less than the annihilation of half of humanity.

If anything, it had been worse than what one might compare to a “Second World War.”

In this world, individuals could wield magic comparable to nuclear weapons.

And in that ancient conflict—when great nations hurled such magic at one another without restraint—entire cities had been erased from the map as though they had never existed.

“Has that nation truly fallen so far as to break even international law!? This is unthinkable!”

That great war had been fought between a vast empire that emerged from a highland plateau and the coalition of nations that resisted it.

Even now, the lands at the heart of that conflict had never fully recovered.

If such a war were to happen again—

humanity itself might not survive it.

It was only natural, then, that the world had come together in its aftermath to establish its first international law: a prohibition against the use of magic in attacks that involved civilians.

“Then the world must judge the Kingdom of Friez immediately—!”

General Newsbeck’s words were righteous.

It should have been an act judged by all nations together.

“…Who,” I murmured quietly, tilting my head back as I looked toward the ceiling, “is going to pass that judgment?”

My voice was soft, almost lost in the charged air, yet it cut through her indignation all the same.

“The balance of power has changed greatly since then.”

“…What do you mean?”

“Do you think that religious state—the one that always postures as a mediator—will step in to punish Friez over a violation of international law?”

The current war revolved around two powers so dominant it was no exaggeration to call them the strongest nations in existence: the Kingdom of Friez and the Kingdom of Lunoa.

“If not them, then perhaps the Northern Sea Empire, drowning in debt and barely holding itself together? Or the relic of a former superpower that destroyed itself in internal conflict and has since shrunk into a minor state? Maybe the nations of the New Continent? Or that island country in the Far East?”

I let out a faint breath.

“…None of them are likely to act.”

There was no country in the world foolish enough to willingly insert itself between those two giants.

The war had not even lasted a full year.

Friez or Lunoa—whoever emerged victorious would claim global hegemony. And no nation desired the birth of such a hegemon.

“…!”

“Punishment,” I continued quietly, “is built upon force. To enforce it… you need power.”

International law, in the end, was powerless on its own.

Laws did not stop nations.

Only power did.

And at this moment, that power—the collective will to enforce such laws—was absent from the international stage.

“…That was faster than I expected,” I muttered under my breath.

Ah…

The gates of hell had been thrown open.

I hadn’t thought it would come this soon. I had assumed it might at least hold together until something like “the war not ending by Christmas” became the breaking point.

But reality had surpassed even my worst expectations.

“…I can’t argue with that.”

General Newsbeck exhaled slowly.

Unlike me, she did not possess knowledge of another world, of history repeating itself in cruel patterns.

And yet—

She accepted it.

“I suppose I’ve lost this argument. If that’s the case… then we should have acted first!”

“…!”

Even after accepting that international law could be broken, she reached a stark, ruthless conclusion without hesitation.

“Can’t we do the same, even now?”

“…We can’t exactly bomb our own city,” I replied, shaking my head.

“…True.”

She fell silent for a brief moment, her thoughts shifting rapidly.

“The real problem is what comes next. Frankhalt… bombed? Bombed, you say…?”

“…!”

I bit down on my lower lip.

“That’s the same as having our supply lines cut…! If supplies stop, our offensive won’t last long. And yet—we’ve come this far…! We’re this close to reclaiming the mining region!”

The weight of her words pressed down on my chest, suffocating.

“What do we do…?”

Her gaze turned toward me—sharp, searching, expectant.

“…Brigadier General Willard.”

“…!”

My throat tightened.

For a moment—

no words came.