Ian, an 8th-Rank Mage, received the ultimatum but did not think much of it.
'An ordinary human cannot defeat a mage.'
Before the absolute law that had been passed down since the time of the founding emperor who established the Empire 1,000 years ago, he did not think lowly money-grubbers would dare defy it.
"What can those South bastards do?"
In a way, it was a natural thought.
In the medieval to early modern era, when scientific development was slow, mages, beings who could do anything with a single gesture, were truly, truly precious existences.
Wherever he went, as an 8th-Rank Mage, he was treated like a master.
Even renowned nobles bowed their heads, and commoners could not even meet his eyes.
A first-class citizen chosen by the heavens.
Inferior humans who could not even wield magic could not defeat him.
Ian believed so.
Until the Dreadnought breathed fire.
Kugugugung-!
A flame flashed beyond the horizon, and a massive roar was heard.
A sound as if heaven and earth were collapsing. A roar that made the atmosphere tremble and hearts pound.
"Hiiik!?"
At the sound that stimulated the fear of human instinct embedded since the beginning, Ian forgot even his dignity and stumbled backward.
Soon, an unbelievable sight unfolded before Ian's eyes as he watched the battle situation from the highest spire.
Eight shells exploded, scattering red flashes. A split second later, an indescribable massive explosion pounded his eardrums.
Before the successive shockwaves, Ian's body shook like a sheet of paper. As Ian, staggering wildly, fell to the floor, the shield he and his fellow mages had cast began to collapse.
Ian, still fallen, blankly looked up at the sky.
"Th-This is impossible..."
Even seeing it with both eyes, it was a situation he could not accept.
It was a magic circle cast together by two 7th-Rank Mages and one 8th-Rank Mage.
It was a defense that could not be broken even by bringing a 9th Rank Mage, of whom there are only five in the Empire. How on earth?
However, there was no time left to question such things.
If he stood blankly, it was obvious the next target would be the fortress.
Ian staggered to his feet.
"There's no way they can fire such monstrous attacks consecutively anyway."
So let's restore the shield quickly.
And gather firepower and sink those bastards into the sea.
Thinking so, Ian raised his staff—
Kugugung-!
Near the horizon, a flame flashed once again.
For the first time in his life, the emotion called fear settled in the heart of the mage Ian.
Thud-
His trembling hand dropped the staff he had cherished. Even so, he did not even think of picking it up again.
Ian, the 8th-Rank Mage.
He was the being closest to a 9th Rank Mage.
Therefore, he knew that even the 9th Rank Mages called transcendent beings could not use magic of that power at that speed.
"Huh, huhuh..."
While orange shells cut through the dawn sky, Ian blankly looked up at the sky.
A power beyond human strength.
Before divine authority, there was nothing he, a mere mage, could do.
"Save m..."
Before Ian could even finish speaking, flames covered the fortress.
***
"I-Impact confirmed... Second shell, hit!"
The Lookout reported in a trembling voice.
It was understandable.
Because the fortress that took the Dreadnought's naval gun broadside directly collapsed as it was.
At the same time a mushroom cloud rose, the fortress's towering walls collapsed. It was so instantaneous that calling it 'destroyed' felt embarrassing.
"Th-That high fortress, like tofu..."
"It got crushed..."
Yes, maybe 'crushed' is the better way to put it.
For the Dreadnought, designed to face steel fleets, stone walls were apparently far too easy prey.
In the silence, the Gunnery Officer's voice rang out.
"Third shell, loaded!"
I raised my binoculars and looked at the fortress.
The fortress, with smoke billowing up, had already lost its original shape, but I felt it was still not enough.
During the past three years while the fortress was being built, merchants of the South had to pay money to pass through it.
We must teach them how heavy the price is for daring to exploit the sweat and blood of our workers.
Even if we erase the fortress itself from the map.
"Third shell, fire."
Kugugung-!
Immediately after, a flash lit the dawn sea.
Beyond the rising gun smoke, the wretchedly ruined fortress came into view.
Everyone on the bridge watched the end of Sarsen Fortress without saying a word.
"Third shell, hit!"
Kururuung...
The sound of something collapsing came from far away.
It was a slightly different kind of sound from the roar of naval guns or shells crushing the fortress.
"What's that sound?"
When I asked with a frown, Lucilla, who was holding binoculars beside me, answered in a calm voice.
"It is the sound of the fortress's foundation collapsing. It seems even a solid granite foundation cannot withstand three consecutive naval gun salvos."
"Hmm..."
"You went a bit too far. For a while, exports through the overland route of the Sarsen-Lutetia region will be impossible."
When I looked through the binoculars at where Sarsen Fortress had been, a miserable sight appeared.
The fortress's imposing appearance was gone without a trace. The site where it had stood had collapsed along with the ground, leaving no trace.
Certainly... it seemed some time would be needed before that road could be used again.
"It's fine."
Of course, it was not my concern.
I had already come prepared with how to handle this situation.
"Count Sarsen will cover the losses we incur."
"Pardon?"
Lucilla looked at me with a puzzled expression.
"I don't think Count Sarsen, who lost the fortress and the mages, will compensate us for damages, but..."
"I think so too."
Naturally. In just five minutes, the fortress built over three years, the mages, and the soldiers all vanished; there's no way he'd willingly hand over money.
It was obvious it would be a long and tedious negotiation.
And that is exactly what warships are for.
"This ship will now head northwest."
Fuel was sufficient anyway. Sarsen was the South's front yard. It was only half a day away.
That meant a day or so of saber-rattling somewhere would not cause supply shortages.
I raised a finger to the chart and ordered.
"Destination: the port at the center of the County of Sarsen. Helmsman, port 15 degrees!"
"Port 15 degrees!"
The helmsman repeated the order and turned the wheel.
Now it was time to go conduct some proper 'diplomacy.'
***
Until now, negotiations between the Grand Duke of the South's envoy and Count Sarsen always followed the same pattern.
When the envoy begged him to please demolish the fortress, the Count listened with one ear and let it out the other.
Even if the South promised funding. Even if they said they would buy Sarsen's grain. Even if they dangled the bait of building factories in the county, the result was always the same.
From Count Sarsen's perspective, there was no need to listen to the South.
Funding? If he kept the fortress here, money would roll in on its own anyway.
Buy grain? He earned more from the fortress than from selling grain.
Build factories? In the end, the South would run them.
So Count Sarsen always gave the same answer like a recording.
After all, he knew there was no one in the Empire who would take the Grand Duke of the South's side.
"In accordance with the Sarsen-Lutetia Treaty, I demand you halt fortress construction immediately!"
"Understood. Since you say so, I will consider it."
Because he kept saying only that, the South's envoy always had to return without any results.
He thought he could do the same in the next negotiation.
Until Sarsen Fortress was demolished before his eyes.
Thunder struck beyond the horizon, and the defensive magic circle shattered at once. In the next bombardment, the fortress was blown away, and the ground it stood on collapsed.
It took only five minutes for the fortress built over three years to disappear.
"Th-This can't be..."
The County of Sarsen lost all its forces in that one blow.
All the superiority it had held over the South vanished at once.
The Count, staring at the fortress with a hollow expression, could not sleep properly that night.
"Count, nothing is visible on the coast. You may return to the manor now..."
"No, no! We don't know when that thing will appear again!"
Because he feared the Heavenly Punishment that destroyed the fortress might fall on his manor, he napped in the carriage.
Arriving at the conference hall in a half-dazed state, Count Sarsen was once again shocked.
"Hiiik...!"
Because a giant steel monster was floating in front of Sarsen Port, where the conference hall was.
Count Sarsen's face went pale at the sight of the monstrously large naval guns aimed at the city.
"Haha, you needn't worry, Count."
Kyle, standing before him with his guards, approached the Count with a friendly smile.
"This warship has merely been deployed to deal with the Reactionaries who unilaterally violated the Sarsen-Lutetia Treaty and tried to block free trade within the Empire."
Kyle's blue eyes gazed steadily at Count Sarsen.
"I trust you are not that kind of person."
The Count could say nothing.
He merely entered the conference hall, dazed, led by Kyle's hand.