Obvious as it may sound, the West and the South wanting to merge doesn't make it a legal merger on the spot.
Any change to the Empire's administrative boundaries requires the Crown Prince's approval.
And the Crown Prince would never grant it.
From his perspective, the South—steadily growing stronger after its victory over the West—was a source of considerable unease.
"...That concludes the analysis from our South Intelligence Bureau's think tank."
"Thank you, Lucilla."
"Oh, and the Design Bureau has sent word that the 'new weapon' is ready. They say they can deploy it whenever you give the order."
"Perfect timing."
If I decided to push forward with the merger, the groundwork to begin within a few months was now in place.
That said, it wasn't as though there were no complications.
Foolish as he might be, the Crown Prince was still the Crown Prince.
However poor his reputation, ignoring the Crown Prince's authority in a pre-modern empire was an entirely different matter.
The Empire's subjects had spent over a thousand years being told that the Emperor was the living embodiment of the sun—a divine being.
If the West and South proceeded with a merger over the Empire's fierce opposition, public opinion in the West could sour.
The Empire might even resort to armed intervention.
"Well, it doesn't matter. I never intended to push through a 'complete' merger openly—not right away."
Within the Crown Prince's declared 'Peace of Our Era,' the position I wanted to occupy resembled interwar Germany.
Walking the line without fully crossing it. Making the Empire wonder whether the cost of intervention was worth it, or whether it was better to simply look the other way.
Of course, that kind of position wouldn't hold for more than a few years—but frankly, I didn't need any more time than that.
'A few years is more than enough to swallow the entire Empire whole.'
So the position I would take was already decided.
"Lucilla. There's a saying from the East: 'Whether the cat is black or white doesn't matter, as long as it catches mice.'"
"Meaning the only thing that matters is achieving the objective?"
"Exactly. Whatever color the cat is, you pursue what's practical. Politics is no different."
A 'complete' merger requires approval from the Imperial central government?
Then simply don't pursue a complete merger.
Substance over form. Just as the saying goes—do everything except the physical merger itself.
"To begin with, the Western army and our Southern forces have already conducted joint operations, and we'll need to keep the western barbarians in check going forward—so we can consolidate the command structures of both armies into one."
Military authority was a privilege inherent to the lords.
And now that Kaiser III had loosened those reins even further, interfering with military command without any actual attempt at treason was simply not done.
It was a gap that had opened when Kaiser III died shortly after relaxing the iron-fisted policy.
"And we have more than enough justification to integrate the administrative systems of the West and South as well. A significant portion of the West's ministerial posts are already filled by our Southern personnel."
Since they were all Southerners anyway, there was no point wasting administrative resources on redundancy—just merge the bureaucracies into one.
For us, with a puppet government already installed in the West Duke's seat, it was hardly a difficult task.
"Now that the West's modernization has begun, they'll need new laws suited to the new technology, won't they?"
Using the transfer of technology as a pretext, we could merge the judiciary.
"The disorder in the West will need to be brought under control by our Southern police."
Using public order as justification, we'd deploy our police forces.
"And the decision-making bodies can be unified as well."
The plan was to establish a joint deliberative body for the West and South, then steer the West's voice however the South saw fit.
All of it would be carried out under the banner of serving the people.
"Our South has decided to integrate the institutions of the West and South into a single body, in order to stabilize the turbulent situation in the West."
On paper, it looked like cooperation between equals.
But with the majority of the West's nobility already purged by Southern hands, there was no way they could exercise equal say in anything.
Going forward, the West and South would nominally remain separate regions.
But if legislative, executive, and judicial authority were all merged—could anyone still call them separate?
By the time the Empire arrived at that answer, it would already be too late.
***
Every step of the merger was carried out through a vote.
"Our South values the opinions of the Western people. If they express displeasure, we will halt the process immediately."
Of course, few among the Westerners chose to refuse.
It was thanks to the Southern army that the plains had been pacified.
If the Southern forces and their new weapons withdrew, the western frontier would once again be at the mercy of barbarian raids.
In that situation, no one was going to tell the Southern army to leave.
It was also the South that was restoring the shattered public order.
The police forces the South had deployed were filling, more or less, the void left by the purged corrupt nobles.
The moment that police presence was pulled, the collapse of order was inevitable—so no one could demand they be withdrawn either.
"If we vote against this, we lose access to the new technologies?"
"Regrettably, there's no other way. Without sweeping legal reforms in the West, our companies simply cannot operate here at full capacity."
And no one was willing to give up the Southern innovations they'd grown accustomed to over the past few months.
"The South Duke is truly something else. To have torn out the West's deep-rooted corruption in one fell swoop."
"With those corrupt nobles gone, life actually feels worth living. No more taxes squeezed out of us on whatever flimsy excuse they could dream up—now I can actually build something for myself."
"After all that exploitation, serves them right."
Those who had felt firsthand how much better life was without the corrupt nobility also threw their support behind the merger.
Above all, the very act of holding a 'vote' was a stark departure from the corrupt nobles who had ruled the West until now.
"First time I've ever seen anyone bother listening to the likes of us farmers."
"No wonder my son came back from the South singing the South Duke's praises."
The sight of people traveling throughout the West, claiming to hear the voices of its citizens, came as a genuine shock to the Westerners.
A government that actually tries to listen to the people—maybe our lives really will get better.
That hope, accumulating across the region, produced an overwhelming result at the ballot box.
"91% in favor, 2% invalid, 7% opposed. The voice of the Western citizenry has been heard."
Overwhelming support from the Western populace.
Silence from the Western intelligentsia.
The West Duke's seat had been a puppet of the South from the very beginning.
With no one left to oppose the merger, every procedure began to fall neatly into place.
The ones most caught off guard by all of this were in the Central Empire.
The mages said:
"This is clearly a sign of forced annexation! We must raise an army and strike them down this instant!"
The nobles said:
"Legally speaking, the regional dukes are guaranteed broad autonomous authority."
The Imperial generals said:
"The approval rating among the Western populace is far too high. If we attempt to intervene by force now, this situation will escalate into civil war."
Civil war.
That was what every member of the Imperial upper echelon feared.
They knew they were standing on a sinking ship. The republics, embracing new technology and growing stronger by the day, had been a source of anxiety for a long time—as had the mounting pressure from neighboring states.
If civil war broke out on top of all that, could they survive the fallout?
Crown Prince Teodorl—indecisive, and a man who valued his reputation more than his own life—had no desire to see civil war erupt because of him, or to watch the Empire crumble as a result.
And so he took one more step back.
"...I have heard your counsel, gentlemen. Then let us observe a little longer. If there are clear signs of an actual merger being attempted, it will not be too late to intervene at that point."
"But if we stand idle any longer, it will be too late!"
The mages' desperate cries managed to shift the Crown Prince's mind—just barely.
There was only one way to intervene between the West and South without resorting to war.
"We shall also prepare a propaganda campaign to turn Western public opinion."
Of course, once more than 90% of public opinion had already shifted, a propaganda campaign was meaningless.
The only person in the room who didn't know that was Crown Prince Teodorl.
***
"So the Southern dogs have finally begun their annexation of the West."
The quiet halls of the East Duke's residence.
East Duke Edward, gazing out at the sea, turned the Crystal Orb in his hand and spoke.
"At this point... it seems I'll need to deal with that South Duke upstart first."
The removal of the West Duke as a rival was certainly welcome. But the South's power had grown beyond that—far beyond it.
If they were to be stopped, now was the time. Before the West was fully absorbed, a decisive blow had to be struck.
Then, with their economy in his grip, he could dismantle the ties between the West and South one by one.
Let them suffer the consequences of daring to fall out of favor with the man who ruled the Empire's seas.
"Order the Abyssal Monster Corps and the navy to prepare for a naval blockade."
"...Understood."
The adjutant nodded, his expression unreadable.
The situation in the East was hardly enviable.
Edward, once a sharp and brilliant East Duke, had at some point begun devoting that mind of his entirely to winning a woman's affection.
'Work? I've lost interest in anything so dull. Not long ago, an intriguing puzzle entered my life—one I simply cannot solve.'
That was what Edward had said, and he had dropped everything.
The East's economy had begun tracing the same downward curve as the declining Empire itself.
What would happen if the naval blockade failed?
Carrying that vague, nameless dread, the adjutant turned and walked away to summon the naval ministers.