Lihen Coins.
They were, arguably, one of the most convenient divine inventions in all of Amphoreus.
Thanks to their existence, Amphoreus had nearly eliminated the possibility of financial fraud. As long as a person had at least a room-temperature IQ, there was no way they could be scammed.
Lihen Coins directly measured the intrinsic value of goods. With them, all transactions followed the market rates established by Talantum, god of Law and Equity, ensuring that no margins or discrepancies ever occurred.
Because of this, Aizen didn't need to carry Hypermion's local currency at all. Simply bringing a small fortune in precious metals and gems was enough to trade freely in any mercenary market.
After traveling between Ladon and Campa, Aizen finally hired a mercenary company with an average age between thirty and thirty-five , seasoned, battle-tested veterans.
Of course, during negotiations, a few idiots had tried to "swallow" Aizen and Seliose , gold, cargo, and all.
The result was that Aizen once again found himself spectating a live-action version of Musou Mode.
Seliose's martial control grew sharper with every fight. Once merely a brawler who battled beasts in the wild, repeated bandit hunts and militia skirmishes had honed her tactical awareness. Her combat instincts now improvised efficient crowd-clearing maneuvers, and the martial addict recorded, remembered, and refined the techniques of every opponent that could survive more than three moves against her.
After several mercenary groups lost men and morale, word quickly spread through the underground. Everyone realized this traveling duo was not to be trifled with.
Their initial intent had been understandable, though. Two foreigners flaunting wealth in the middle of a famine would make anyone's heart itch.
Most of these men had been tightening their belts for months, every meal an anxious ritual. Spotting a "fat sheep" like this pair strolling through their territory , who wouldn't at least consider skimming something?
But when they noticed the "sheep girl" decapitating entire bands of wolves with a stick of steel, it was already too late.
They hadn't stepped on a soft persimmon.
They'd stepped on reinforced concrete.
Who would've thought this delicate-looking pink-haired girl could single-handedly demolish multiple mercenary bands like a deity of war?
Once the violent road was closed off, the mercenaries' fear turned into admiration. The tough ones, filled with masochistic awe, approached on their own to ask about recruitment pay.
And then they discovered that the boy's offered rate wasn't merely fair , it was above market.
Before long, competition became feverish.
Like mercenaries with Stockholm Syndrome, the tough men began forming a line.
After intense filtering, Aizen handpicked eight hundred of the finest.
Eight hundred , a number that, for his homeland, carried mythic resonance.
In the stories of the heroes of the Flowery Homeland, eight hundred men was an omen of legend.
Eight hundred , with them, Huo Qubing rode to the Xiongnu royal court and sealed the border-Wolf at Mount Langjuxu.
Eight hundred , with them, Li Shimin seized the Xuanwu Gate and took the Tang Empire.
Eight hundred , with them, Zhu Di raised the Jingnan Rebellion and became the only prince in history to successfully seize the throne.
Eight hundred , with them, Zhang Liao at Xiaoyao Ford made Sun Quan regret leaving home that day.
Countless miracles had been written by eight hundred men.
And now, Aizen was ready to hand those eight hundred to his own "Caesar," the so-called Conqueror, Anaxa of Hypermion.
He wanted to see if this future Empress, this mirror of Caesar herself, could bring him another miracle.
"Your Majesty, we received word from Lord Alaset."
"What news?"
"The Council has passed a joint resolution. They plan to form an expeditionary army to march south against Okhema. The objective is to secure new land for the displaced by next spring."
"Oh?"
Anaxa raised an eyebrow, intrigued. She hadn't expected the pack of corrupt noble worms in the Council to ever pretend to care about the citizens' welfare.
Then again, it was obvious , such words were just pretexts for another "extraordinary tax."
None of these parasites had the money to fund a campaign.
If an army was being raised, the commoners would pay for it.
"However," the maid continued cautiously, "Lord Alaset personally refuted the protestors and announced that three million Lihen Coins would be drawn directly from the treasury to fund the expedition. In addition..."
The maid hesitated slightly, glancing nervously at Anaxa.
"Speak," Anaxa said coolly.
"Lord Alaset has decreed that Your Majesty must personally lead the army. He said that if you succeed in this campaign, should you return victorious, he will relinquish the Regency and restore full authority to you."
"Me? Lead a royal campaign?"
"And after achieving great merit, he'll graciously hand over the throne?"
Anaxa's lips formed a tight, mocking smile.
So, the nobles were finally ready to wring her dry to the last drop of value.
She knew better than anyone the state of Hypermion's treasury. The late king hadn't exactly been frugal, and since his passing, the nobles had pillaged what little remained. Now, the treasury was so empty a rat could starve walking through it.
But none of that mattered, because the citizens didn't know it.
In their eyes, the national taxes all went into the treasury.
Now the regent had heroically "stood against opposition" and agreed to spend treasury funds to save the people , and had generously chosen their beloved queen to lead the banner of redemption.
If she refused this, she'd be lynched.
Aizen knew the type of quest this was.
No win state except forward.
Refuse to march, and the mob would storm the palace gates the next day.
Accept, and the nobles would throw hired blades at her on the return trip.
The knife was already at her throat.
The only choice was whether to die now or later.
"So... they're using me to balance the books," she whispered, smiling to herself.
Once this war began, all of the nobles' stolen wealth and the empty treasury alike would be erased under the excuse of "war expenditure."
When it ended, she'd be dead , victory or defeat, it didn't matter.
Her obituary would read "died for country."
The public would cheer.
The regent's sins would be buried with her body.
"But even then," she murmured, eyes flicking toward the deep crimson chess piece on her desk, "I will gain something , a troop, even if in name only."
Her blue eyes glimmered darkly, a storm gathering behind her calm.
"Perhaps..." she said softly, smiling for the first time that evening, "this is my chance."
"Luqueya."