We could then use that money to import things from abroad. Right now, our trade relations with the Beast Kingdom *Eurazania* were on hold, and with the vegetables and grains produced in our nation alone, we wouldn't be able to feed the numerous adventurers either. That's why we'd need to import things from other countries. Even if that weren't the case, it would still be fine as I planned to turn my kingdom into a **trading powerhouse**. We'd stick to the plan this time around, but I still had to figure out ways to transport more goods per run.
Given that was the case, I had already formed a rough outline. My plan was to increase the width of the road. At the moment, the roads were only half paved, with the other half still having exposed dirt. I planned to fit train tracks on the unfinished half to allow cargo trains to run on them.
> "The only thing left now is the promotional work."
I was lost in my own visions of grandeur when Myourmiles's voice cut through, grounding me back into the present.
Oh yeah. There's no use rushing things.
Putting aside the train tracks, simply developing the trains themselves would already take time. The more pressing task was ensuring the **Founding Festival** commenced without a hitch, leaving a powerful impression on the other nations.
> "This isn't enough to be called a promotion," Myourmiles continued with his confident grin. "But I've sent invitations to several heads of nations. Some reporters from varying countries have also agreed to help, so I figure that we will get plenty of guests—"
I leaned back on the chair, my crimson cloak resting over my shoulders like a mantle of authority.
> "Hmm. As expected of you, Myourmiles. If we are arranging the transportation of the royalties and nobles, we should do that before the snow melts—which is now. It seems I won't have to worry about that anymore. Then, let me hear it… what else do you have planned?"
> "Then let me get in touch with some other renowned merchants to inform them about the festival being held in Eterna," he replied smoothly.
> "Can I trouble you to do that?" I asked, my tone steady and commanding.
> "Just count on me. I've actually already made some preparations. I wanted to check out the condition of this nation first before confirming whether I should do so or not," Myourmiles cracked a smile as he replied.
I allowed a faint smirk to appear on my lips. The man was sharp.
> "Ah, Myourmiles-kun is too impressive. Your shrewdness never fails to surprise me."
> "You're flattering me," he chuckled lightly. "It is Atem-sama who deserves those praises. Compared to how much of a visionary you are, my skills are nothing."
We exchanged looks—steady, calculating smiles.
No. That's not true. Myourmiles's cunning mind was the real sharp blade here. And I knew exactly how to wield it.
> "Atem-sama, this plan will not fail," Myourmiles suddenly declared, his expression hardening into something serious. "With all these amazing conditions in our favor, success is all but guaranteed!"
Overconfidence could be a dangerous flaw… but hearing it from him didn't irritate me. It reassured me. I could tell from his eyes—he was already bound to Eterna.
He was drawn to its **food, power, and comfort**. To its **future**.
It was as if this moment was the beginning of something larger.
I rose from my seat slowly, letting the fabric of my cloak shift like rippling flame. I extended my hand toward him.
> "I'll be counting on you, Myourmiles."
> "Leave it to me—" he answered without hesitation, clasping both of my hands with an oath. His grip was firm. Loyal. Absolute.
I could feel it. This plan would succeed.
That night, I accepted his invitation to dine at his estate. The meal was exquisite—lavish spreads and warm flavors, the kind that left no doubts about the wealth that Eterna could generate.
Afterwards, we sat across from each other, the steam of freshly brewed black tea curling in the warm air of the chamber. The candlelight danced on the walls as shadows stretched behind us. It was during this quiet moment that Myourmiles gave a subtle gesture to his men.
A few seconds later, they returned—escorting **Bydd** and **Gobemon**.
Gobemon?
That was unexpected. Knowing his personality, he should have been carrying out his bodyguard duties discreetly, not standing in Myourmiles's estate.
I narrowed my eyes, leaning forward slightly.
> "Atem-sama," Myourmiles began carefully, "this Gobemon-dono here seems to be a bodyguard you sent."
I didn't answer immediately. Playing dumb wouldn't work. He'd already figured it out.
But what made me focus wasn't the fact that Gobemon had been discovered.
It was his arm.
His **right arm was gone below the elbow**.
> "That's true," I admitted, my voice like tempered steel. "But let's put that aside for now. Gobemon… what happened to your arm?"
The silence in the room thickened like smoke.
> "A-Atem-sama!" Gobemon suddenly dropped to his knees. His voice cracked under the weight of guilt. "I-I'm truly… truly sorry. It was all my fault for being reckless and getting discovered by Myourmiles. This lost arm is the punishment for my foolishness!"
The anguish in his tone carried more weight than blood.
Before I could speak, Myourmiles stepped forward calmly, almost like he'd expected this scene.
> "D-Don't get so emotional, Gobemon-dono," he said firmly but not unkindly. "Please get up and have a cup of tea to calm down."
Gobemon hesitated, his head still lowered. Myourmiles signaled one of his men to serve the tea. Slowly, Gobemon sat on the chair, clutching the warm cup as if trying to hold on to something solid. Once he gathered his composure, he began to speak.
According to Myourmiles, there had been **several assaults** after our last meeting. Myourmiles, ever cautious, had ordered his own guards—including Bydd—to stay on high alert.
But there had been too many ambushes.
Their survival had depended on a hidden guardian stepping out from the shadows each time—Gobemon.
The image was clear in my mind now: while Myourmiles's entourage was being attacked, Gobemon had been cutting through the darkness like a silent blade, intercepting threats meant for the man I intended to make a pillar of this nation.
A man loyal enough to lose an arm for Eterna.
I looked at Gobemon—really looked at him. The fire in his remaining hand trembled, not from fear, but from regret.
My voice carried through the room, calm yet sharp enough to cut through air.
> "You lost an arm… not because of weakness, but because of loyalty. Do not apologize for protecting what is mine."
His eyes widened, and he lowered his head deeper, trembling—not from fear, but reverence.
> "Atem-sama…"
I rose from my chair, my power subtly rippling out like a tidal wave pressing against the walls of the room. **Solarys, Sovereign of Wisdom**, whispered softly in the depths of my mind, offering options, calculating paths, but I didn't need it to understand what came next.
> "Loyalty like yours," I said, stepping toward Gobemon, "will never be forgotten."
The ambushes were more frequent than I imagined, so they were able to deduce that someone had been secretly protecting them. From there, they concluded the only one who could be responsible was me—which was why Myourmiles pretended that he hadn't discovered Gobemon's presence.
But what Myourmiles didn't expect was the key event that followed. In a foolish act of vengeance, **Viscount Kazak** decided to resort to violence far beyond what was acceptable.
> "I found someone to inherit the store in that nation (Blumund) and came here straight away," Myourmiles explained, his fingers tightening around the teacup. "I was thinking we'd be safe once we got on the road, where the attackers wouldn't be able to strike as easily. We thus lowered our guard, but I didn't expect—"
His voice caught for a brief moment, and I already understood the rest.
The roads were under constant patrol. There were many other merchants and adventurers using them, and even during the harsh winter, the snow was cleared daily. These roads were supposed to be *safe*. If an attack did happen, the patrols would have rushed in immediately. Myourmiles had traveled that path many times—he trusted it. And that trust… was what they exploited.
He was ambushed at the corner of a street in a small town.
> "Village? Was it the one Bydd tried to con—was it the village where Bydd and I first met each other?" I asked sharply.
> "R-Right! That was the village Atem-sama and I first met!" Myourmiles answered quickly.
About Bydd… back then, he was just a conman pulling cheap tricks. Now, he stood as Myourmiles's bodyguard. A fitting twist of fate.
Bydd approached and stood behind Myourmiles, silent at first, listening carefully. Then his expression shifted. He stepped forward, his voice serious.
> "It was a black carriage, Atem-sama. Out of nowhere… a swarm of Rank B monsters came charging. They were vicious."
He wasn't exaggerating. Bydd had once only been Rank C. Against Rank B monsters, the gap was vast. He and his men had no choice but to stand their ground, prepared to die. But they still bought time, protecting the villagers and forcing the attackers to focus on them.
It was then that Gobemon appeared.
> "It was then that brother Gobemon saved us!" Bydd declared, his voice filled with respect.
> "That's right," Myourmiles added, nodding. "Not just Bydd. Everyone back at the scene is grateful towards Gobemon-san."
But Gobemon's face didn't reflect pride. His jaw tightened. His gaze fell to the floor.
> "But… it's still an undeniable fact that I've failed—"
I could already see the memory playing out in his mind. There was no way Gobemon would have lost to Rank B monsters. He must have cut them down like grass. But then…
The real problem had arrived. A **Rank B-plus Basilisk**—a rare beast, one capable of turning a battlefield into stone.
Gobemon's right arm had been caught in the **spray of its petrifying gas**. Without hesitation, he'd severed it at the elbow to keep the poison from spreading further.
In that brief window of vulnerability… the black carriage had escaped.
> "So the failure you were referring to was that you let the culprit flee?" I asked, my eyes narrowing slightly.
> "That's part of it," Gobemon admitted, lowering his head further. "The other being that Myourmiles discovered me…"
Ah, so *that's* what had been weighing him down.
> "It's really no big deal if you were discovered," I said calmly, but my tone carried iron beneath the surface. "Your duty as a bodyguard comes first. By the way… you should hurry and heal up your arm."
I extended my hand, drawing from my inner dimension—*Solarys, Sovereign of Wisdom*, silently adjusting my storage. A **high-grade healing potion** appeared in my palm, its glow faint but potent. I was ready to hand it to him.
But Gobemon bit down on his lip, refusing to take it.
> "No," he said, voice firm even through the shame. "It was all because of my immaturity that I was injured. I wasn't able to defeat the basilisk on my own; it was with the help of Bydd and the rest that it was defeated. It's too embarrassing. And even though leaving me with one hand is inconvenient, it will regenerate over time anyway…"
Stubborn. Proud. Loyal to a fault. That was Gobemon.
I stepped closer, my gaze fixed on him—not with anger, but with the weight of **command**.
> "Gobemon," I said lowly, "do you think it's shameful to ask for help from Bydd and the others?"
> "I-I guess…" His voice wavered. "It was my mission to be their bodyguard, yet I put the people I was guarding in crisis—"
> "Hold on, Gobemon." My tone cut cleanly through his self-reproach. "You've got the wrong idea."
> "Did I… get the wrong idea?" he asked, almost whispering.
> "Yes," I said firmly. "You've gone too far playing the lone ranger. That is where you and Gobta are different."